Welcome Home

It became something of a natural occurrence in Amity Park, where people did everyday things and occasionally scrambled for their lives while random ghosts ran their usual amok on unsuspecting citizens. None of that bothered them anymore, for they had a spectral superhero to defend them, so they continued life as though nothing happened. The increase in tourism didn't help much either, but the city was practically thriving from the ghostly encounters.

Which probably made sense since near the western end of the city, the once serene blue sky turned dark and menacing. The clouds swirled around as a ghoulish green fissure ripped across the sky and many innocents along the nearby sidewalks glanced up...

...and resumed their businesses.

Two flashes of light shot out of said green fissure, swirling obscenely around the block until the points of light collided into the top-most balcony of a nearby shady apartment complex. The light grew more intense, then died down.

The Amity Park's self deputized ghost boy flew around the scene and landed on top of the said building, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

"Strange. I thought I sensed a ghost portal open around here..." Danny looked up just as the clouds receded, the sky returning to its normal blue again as if the intense ghostly portal was simply a figment of his imagination. A sound buzzed in his ear and he pressed his fingers against the earpiece. "What's up?"

"Dude! You're going to be late for class again!" His best friend exclaimed. Danny could hear the background sound of students chattering among themselves.

Danny opened his mouth to respond, but another voice interrupted, Tucker's protest vaguely heard. "You heard what Lancer said last week Danny..." Sam said, her voice growing deeper and wheezy to imitate their nosy teacher. "'Fahrenheit 451! I don't care if you're Amity Park's savior, Daniel Fenton, it does not excuse you from a well-rounded education!'"

This made Danny chuckle, his expression changing as he looked up to the sky, continually disturbed by the ghostly emissions still emanating from the environment around him. "I still think that something's up, but..."

His acute senses picked up the mechanical sounds of the school bell. He panicked, already seeing the unimpressed look on Lancer's face for being late to homeroom again.

"Oh man, not again!" His legs transformed into a ghostly tail as he jumped off the roof and into the skies, heading towards the school at an unnatural speed.


Inside the once-glowing apartment, the once vacant space now looked like it had been occupied for months. Furniture, household items, and a couple of electronics were neatly placed around. The only thing out of place were two spectral entities currently occupying it, with mixed results.

"Heh, I can't believe how I was such a clueless little shit back then..." Phantom watched through the curtain as his 'better' half flew away from the scene. He closed the curtain with a huff and turned with a self-deprecating smirk. "Thank the Zone I'm not like that anymore."

Clockwork rolled his eyes and scanned the living room. His eyes lingered on the bedroom door. "There's only one bedroom."

Phantom's sneer burned onto Clockwork's back. "Was that an invitation?"

"Indeed." The Ghost of Time allowed himself a small smirk as he turned to see Phantom's incredulous look. "You'll have to enjoy what humans call... a couch."

Phantom's current expression was replaced with a repulsed glare. "I will not have my sleeping arrangements reduced to a... couch!" He pointed at the rather pathetic looking brown couch as if it was the bane of his existence. Which probably was, but...

Clockwork stared in boredom at the outburst. "Your comfort level is not my concern. You're just here for your test."

"I demand for some sort of bed that doesn't involve rats gnawing through it!"

"There are no rats." Having no desire for petty banter at the moment, Clockwork glided toward the bedroom. "I never expected a ghost of great caliber such as yourself complaining over sleeping on a couch."

"What's wrong with sharing a bed with you?" Phantom didn't mean to phrase the innuendos this time, but he refused to toss and turn on a backbreaking couch despite his ghostly form preventing such a thing. "Do you jack off nightly or something?"

Clockwork ignored him (he's been doing that a lot, but it was a fail-safe way of pronouncing the death of annoying conversations). "Stay put until I return."

"I'll take that as a yes then." Phantom sat on the couch and stared at the small blank TV while Clockwork disappeared into the adjacent room. After staring at it for a good few minutes, his brow furrowed in agitation. "Hey Clockwork!" He raised his head towards the bedroom. "How does this thing work again?"

The only response was a loud rumble coming from the room.

The morning had turned to nightfall by the time Clockwork revealed himself and Phantom was glad that ghosts didn't need trivial things like food to remain active. Otherwise he'd have been long dead from starvation than claustrophobia inside the thermos. What was interesting was that the Ghost of Time pulled back his hood for the first time ever, revealing a somewhat weary expression as he ran his hand through his long hair. Phantom had no reason to gape. But he did.

"You have white hair?"

Clockwork glared at him through his second run-through with his fingers. "I think silver is more of an appropriate response, Phantom. You wish for me to feel old?"

"If it pisses you off, then yes, I do indeed want you to feel old." Phantom kicked up his feet on the couch, preventing Clockwork from moving over to relax. Just because they were cohabiting much more formally didn't mean that they were friends. Clockwork merely grabbed a chair from the kitchen and sat on it. "So...?"

Clockwork rubbed his face tiredly. "So what?"

"What the hell have you been doing in there that lasted all day?" Phantom gritted out as the metallic collar buzzed dangerously in alarm. "Did you really jerk off?" Clockwork was tired, but undoubtedly satisfied. That said a lot.

"Don't be an idiot," Clockwork snapped. "I'm not in the mood."

"Oh ho ho. That sounded like a human emotion, Ghost of Time."

There was a mutual aura of glaring from the both of them and, for the first time, Phantom could definitely see some sort of strain on the Time Ghost's features. Uncaring for Clockwork's permission, he got up and walked towards the bedroom door.

Phantom had no choice but to whistle in amazement, pushing the door aside. "Home sick much?"

The room was no bedroom as far as Phantom could see. Everything was thrown out of tilt with a dark collection of dimensional energy bending back and forth as if time was ripped apart off its hinges. Faint silhouettes of melting clocks floated aimlessly around with no purpose and Phantom could hear the familiar emptiness of space and whirring of dimensional time pieces. The only semblance of a bedroom left was the bed, which looked quite insignificant and pathetic in the middle of the room. It was merely floating in the dimension.

He stepped forward and with a sounding 'whoosh' the dimension changed, leaving a perfectly normal bedroom in it's stead.

"I am omnipotent, but not invincible." Phantom turned to see Clockwork leaning on the door frame. Whether he was smug about it or simply tired, Phantom couldn't decide. "Like you, I am not of this or any time line. I can only exist in my dimension." He shook his head when Phantom opened his mouth, already knowing the question. "I exist to watch everything. Every dimension, every thread of time. Past, present, future, it is nothing to me but everything to the universe. I cannot stay in one place without a means back to my dimension. A place out of time does not have a place in time."

"Then I can't exist either, so what's the point of the test?" The malevolent ghost was intrigued. He was pretty sure that aside from the Observers, he was the only one privy to this information. Surprisingly, Clockwork rubbed the side of his face, a serene look on his face.

"You will be fine. This used to be your time line. You will not be as affected as I am."

"What about you? Didn't used to be in a time line? You can't just-pop-out of nowhere and just simply be the Ghost of Time."

A hint of uncertainty flashed across Clockwork's profile, suddenly feeling even more wary than before. "I do not know." Was he ever something more before taking the mantle of guarding time? He didn't really know. And if so, couldn't remember. It was an odd question to ask him and certainly not one he expected from someone like Phantom. "At any case, being a creature from outside of any time line, it can put quite a strain on me if I stayed within one longer than necessary. I linked this room to my home back in the Ghost Zone so I can recharge nightly."

Phantom could see Clockwork visibly relax a great deal as he walked into the room, another question plaguing his mind. "What happens if you don't return here for some time?"

Clockwork raised an eyebrow, suspicious of Phantom's look of intrigue. "Why would I tell the once greatest enemy of the Ghost Zone any more of my weaknesses?"

"You semi-omnipotent fucking prude," Phantom purred and draped his arm around Clockwork's sudden stiffened shoulders, bringing him close to a mocking hug. "I thought I was trying to become a good guy here? Wouldn't it be good for my character if I never act on your weaknesses?"

Clockwork coolly lifted Phantom's arm off of him and shoved him out of the room. "You are an annoyance. Leave."

"I'm not sleeping on the fucking couch!" Phantom snarled as he was pushed through the door frame.

The Ghost of Time gave him a dry smirk. "I will see you tomorrow morning." He slammed the door on Phantom's murderous face.


Since merging with Vlad Masters' disgusting ghost half, Phantom never dreamed. He never cared for it. Causing a reign of terror across the planet was something that sleep couldn't provide. It would have been a profound weakness that his enemies would have tried to take advantage of. There was nothing more terrifying than a renegade ghost who pillaged and wrought pain who didn't need to take a power nap to recharge.

Sometimes on the off chance that he needed some kind of break, he slept, but he never dreamed. Dreaming meant there was some semblance of humanity left inside, a collection of memories his mind was making up to compensate for something missing. He didn't dream.

Until now.

He dreamed of the old time line when, as Danny Fenton, watched his failure of saving his loved ones (and Lancer) in time from the Nasty Burger explosion. He could remember screaming in anguish, like something was physically tearing his chest apart. But there was no pain like in his recollection. The only thing he could feel was the absence of the feeling, the emptiness. Like a spectator witnessing a devastating car crash; a marvel to witness, but no personal emotion attached.

The scene changed this time and he stared at the pitiful look Vlad Masters gave him as he took Danny in as a surrogate son after the accident. Danny was lonely, guilty, suicidal. It was all his fault. Phantom didn't feel anything here either as he watched the boy disappear with his former arch-nemesis into the manor.

Another scene. This time he knew the pain well. A barely remembered lab, the Ghost Gauntlets forcibly ripping him from the poor boy's body. He could remember the confusion, fear and loneliness as he was being held by the Gauntlets and saw himself from two angles. Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were now separated for good. Consciousness and... terror.

He remembered that he didn't want to be alone like this. Barren to the world. He was tied to Danny Fenton... he needed Danny Fenton to exist! It was strange watching what was practically him thrash around the tightened hold of those Gauntlets, instinct overriding his senses as he tried to return to where he was whole and being denied. Phantom watched with a sense of resentment, of a dull ache of helplessness, as Masters grabbed Danny's struggling ghost half and tried to toss him into the ghost portal.

"Stop fighting, phantom! This is what Daniel wants! He doesn't want you anymore!" Masters had cried out.

Phantom began to shake, unbridled anger coursing through his entire being. Ah, was that where it all began? The anger, the malice. It was a beautiful feeling, the only feeling he could feel indiscriminately.

He could even pinpoint the exact moment where it all clicked. That he wasn't needed anymore... he was what caused Danny Fenton's loved ones to perish. Danny Fenton didn't want him anymore. That emptiness that his younger self discovered, something that was worth more than that instinctual terror. Anger. Anger that was his to cherish, anger that was something of his. Something that wasn't brought on by Danny's wayward emotions.

Anger brought him to life.

His vulnerable mind developed quickly after that, fueled by anger, filling that void of humanity. It was Danny Fenton's fault, not his. Danny Fenton killed his loved ones, not him. Why should he take all the blame? Danny Fenton didn't want Danny Phantom anymore, but Danny Phantom didn't need Danny Fenton either!

He remembered it. The rage boiling up to an insane fury when he ripped himself from the Gauntlets, remembering the pain in doing so. Raw pain, but good. It meant he could feel something, something that he made him truly alive. And in a flying rage, he had attacked the elder half-ghost, knocking the Gauntlets right off of him. He remembered picking up the Gauntlets, a daunting plan forming in his mind.

More rage. Make him stronger, faster, smarter. More. More. More.

"And you? Don't you despise your ghost half too?" he had spat out. "It left you lonely and miserable. Let me remedy that for you!" Phantom watched with a familiar twist of pleasure as the memory of himself shoved the Gauntlets into Vlad. The elder man screamed an unholy scream as his ghostly half was torn forcibly from his body.

"I don't need Danny Fenton! I don't need anyone!" He had bellowed in anguish, diving straight into Plasmius' body, tearing into the malevolent ghost half with the attempt to overshadow it, make him whole again. That was a battle Phantom knew well. The twenty year strong ghost wasn't going to be dissolved politely and battled him for absolute control. He could feel his face breaking out in cracks and his once green eyes turning red and villainous as the assertion went underway.

There was a scream of pain and a roar of dominance as his feelings of abandonment and hate overpowered Masters' ghost half. In the end, it was only natural that the strongest and fittest survived. In the end, he completely overshadowed whatever was left of the elder ghost. Plasmius' malevolence was then his powerful fodder for his pain. He was in control. He truly existed now, separate from the weak Danny Fenton.

He had taunted and attacked Vlad Masters halfway across the room, his first victim to terrorize. And how he did it so wonderfully. Danny had then slowly awakened from the anesthesia. Phantom had one last promise to fulfill. There was something cathartic about going after Danny, had glided toward the terrified boy as his former self fell off the operating table and weakly crawled away. He kept that cat and mouse game until Danny had nowhere else to run, cornered into a wall. He had cowered in the corner in fear.

"This was what you wanted, Danny," He remembered whispering as his cold fingers grasped Danny's tear streaked face and pulled towards his direction. "You wanted this."

"N-n-no..." Was the only thing uttered from his human half's cold lips as Phantom gave him a mocking chaste kiss upon them. "Remember, Danny Fenton. Remember how you have forsaken me and now I will plunge this world that you loved so dearly into chaos because of it."

Tears fell like rain down Danny's face. His last heroic attempt to stop Phantom resulted by grabbing onto his trademark hazmat suit, desperately holding on for dear life. If there was one thing to be had it was that Danny didn't die a coward like Masters' continued to live like one, running away and leaving the boy's fate in the hands of the now renegade ghost. He had looked down on the boy and held his human half, feeling for the first and last time a sense of longing and pity.

No... he remembered. The last thing he wanted to do was feel. He didn't want to feel anything related to Danny Fenton anymore. The one boy who rejected him based on his feelings alone. And if he was to only feel one thing, it should be anger. Only anger.

"Don't worry, Danny. I won't..." He looked down at the shivering human half, an insane smirk slowly gracing his features. As Phantom watched the scene slowly come to an end, he mimicked his counterpart's last words. "...you won't suffer again. Not anymore."

He destroyed Danny. No, he gave him what he wanted. United in death with the people he loved.

After that, he felt nothing remotely comforting to him anymore. Only anger, only hate. Only the desire to destroy. To make the world feel nothing like he did.

"Wake up." He heard an echoing voice. It was very familiar. It was strangely comforting and alive.

"Phantom!"


He opened his blood red eyes with a start and sat up abruptly. His momentary confusion ended when he remembered the living room around him. Everything was suddenly familiar except... He looked up and saw a young man around seventeen staring down at him in vapid amusement.

"Who the hell are you?" Phantom demanded as he jumped off the couch, his hands alight with green ecto-energy. Great, they had thieves in the vicinity. He loved thieves. Loved how they ran like little roaches when he took aim and killed them.

The boy raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Well, at least it's good to see that the disguise kicks in well."

"What...?" Phantom recognized the quiet, haunting voice and stared in amazement. "Clockwork?"

Clockwork smirked at the recognition. "In the flesh. Literally."

Clockwork no longer had the bluish skin of a veteran ghost, but a paleness that almost seemed sickly if he didn't look so goddamn amused. The once revealing face scar was converted into a stylish dark henna styled marking, which Phantom scowled at. Scars should be something to be proud of.

But his eyes was what Phantom caught at first. Indigo, like the ghost's cloak. It suited him more than the ominous red eyes that's for sure. Those should be reserved for someone much more menacing, like himself.

Phantom continued to stare in bewilderment while Clockwork shed his cloak to reveal what looked like some normal human clothing, obviously made for a well-kept young man. The shock of white-blond hair seemed to be the only thing reminiscent of the old Clockwork. He stopped gaping like a moron when Clockwork smirked at him, aware of Phantom's shameless staring. "It has been awhile since I've donned the guise of a teenage boy. I'm in a good enough mood to ask for an opinion."

Phantom composed himself long enough to sneer at the one ghost who looked good enough to devour. "You look like a goody two-shoes who's either going to be the fag shoved into a locker or become the school slut."

"Ah, I see you've finally raveled your tongue long enough to manage an eloquent response. I was getting worried." Clockwork walked back into his bedroom and returned, carefully holding a black belt that held a couple of multicolored hourglasses along the length.

"It demonstrates the same power as my staff," He answered to Phantom's questioning and lingering gaze upon it. "You don't expect me to carry the thing around while in disguise do you?"

Phantom couldn't help but stare at the hourglasses. All he saw was pure power. And he wanted it. "What do they do?"

Clockwork strapped it around his hips and turned to the left side of the buckle. He pointed at a blue-green sanded hourglass that kept refilling itself infinitely upwards. "The Hourglass of Urd. It turns back time." Next to it, he pointed at a yellow-orange hourglass that infinitely refilled both bulbs in cadence with each other. "The Hourglass of Verdandi. It returns back to the present time line we are in." Lastly, he pointed to a red-violet hourglass that infinitely poured downwards. "The Hourglass of Skuld. It moves forward to the future."

"Where's the ability to stop time?" Phantom spat the end out. He had bad memories with that mechanism.

Clockwork turned to his right side and pointed at the other three hourglasses, strangely accommodating to Phantom's curiosity. "This one, the Hourglass of Arresto..." He pointed at the black sanded hourglass. The sand was flowing as usual, but Phantom had a feeling that when activated, the sand would cease to flow. "...stops time."

"I'm assuming that the gray hourglass that's pouring very slowly is the power to slow down time?" Phantom murmured as he crouched down to watch the gray sparkles fall slowly onto the pile. As a ghost of many abilities, the power of time always intrigued him, always out of reach from his power-hungry fingers from the very person in front of him. If he had such a power... he'd be unstoppable.

"The Hourglass of Lento. Slows time to an almost complete stop." Clockwork nodded and pointed to the last hourglass, which was filled with pure white sand but the sand merely sat on the bottom, no supernatural force moving it.

"How come that's not moving like the others?" Phantom wondered aloud. There was a pause, as if Clockwork was debating whether or not to explain it.

"Because it is my duty to turn it myself," Clockwork detached the white hourglass off. It was surrounded by a golden circular mechanism which probably made it easier to flip around. The other's mechanisms were silver. "It does not affect the world like the others..." He twirled it absentmindedly between his middle and fore fingers, doing so without actually causing the sand to shift. Phantom watched an almost sober glow emit in Clockwork's dark eyes as if reminiscing of an unspoken, inside secret known only to him.

"What does it do?"

The Ghost of Time seemed even more hesitant to answer, eyeing the Phantom with suspicion before answering. "The Hourglass of Memoria. So powerful... I can only use it once every millennium, but the effects of it can be wondrous... or tragic."

Phantom scratched his head, but couldn't come up with anything. "What does 'memoria' mean?"

Clockwork gave him an amused smirk in response. "I've forgotten that due to your... abrupt halt in schooling, you haven't learned Latin. Good thing I talked to Principal Ishiyama while you were snoring away."

"Principal..?." Phantom crossed his arms, searching his memory to match a face with the familiar name, but couldn't come up with anything.

"You don't remember your principal from Casper High?" Clockwork summoned a wall length mirror and gazed into it, enjoying his belt and his new human look. "As soon as I fit you into your human disguise, we will be taking the Accuplacer Test in order to transfer into the school."

Phantom dropped his arms. "Accuplacer? What the hell are you spouting?"

Clockwork turned his head and smirked. "I told you that we'd be watching Danny. Surely that counts school, doesn't it?"

The Time Ghost blinked when Phantom drew himself to full height, his glare evident. "I refuse."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're trying to get me to fail on purpose. Sticking me with people I hate so you can fuck me over." Phantom glared. "I may lack Danny Fenton's soul, but I remember the bitterness that consumed him every single day he suffered in that place."

Clockwork considered the man's words, folding his arms to mirror his counterpart. The staring contest lasted for a minute before he changed his game plan. "Don't tell me that the great Dan Phantom can't work under pressure... especially when he's surrounded by impressionable teenagers..."

What Phantom hated the most was the fact that he was being mocked by the so-called all powerful Clockwork. "Fine. Fuck it. I'll play your games. And you'll be sorry because I'm going to win."

"Now that sounds more like the usual Phantom I've come to know and love," Clockwork reached behind his back and summoned his staff from what Phantom could only think of as hammer-space and raised it above his head. "So, what would you prefer as a disguise? Lanky? Slim? Muscular? Or would you allow me to just randomize it and see what happens?"

Phantom's smile was so wide it was almost villainous. Not many people could pick and choose what to look like these days. He intended to take advantage of every opportunity. "Athletic, but make the muscle depth at least lower than Dash's. How he gets through the door on a daily basis I'll never know."

"Specific, aren't you?" Clockwork drawled. "Would you like to look at the assortment of noses first before we make the next decision?"

"You asked, bitch, and you better deliver."

The staff began to glow a curious violet over Phantom's head. "Hold still."

Phantom yelped as he was engulfed in that very light. It felt very uncomfortable. "Clockwork!"

"Don't be a child," Clockwork reprimanded calmly as the light turned brighter until it dissipated, leaving a young man around nineteen behind, his tanned arms over his face. "You're done now."

Phantom lowered his arms and looked at his hands. His gloves were gone and his skin was a light bronze color, not ghostly blue. He shoved the smirking Clockwork aside to look at his reflection.

The first thing he realized was that his flaming, white hair was gone, replaced with sultry, thick black locks that reached into a bad-boy ponytail on the back nape of his neck. His red eyes remained, except it was diluted and was almost a wine-like color. He wasn't as muscular as his ghost counterpart, but he was lithe and athletic enough to be spot on to be a quarterback if he wanted to. His tight black shirt accentuated his torso nicely.

"I look like my upgraded and less dorky younger self," Phantom chuckled as he shamelessly posed in the mirror. The gray jeans and black sneakers brought a dark smile to his face. "Very sexy... perfect for me." He stroked his now soft, black goatee which he was glad Clockwork kept.

"You're welcome." Clockwork muttered in boredom and looked at the clock. "It's seven-thirty. We're going to be late."

Phantom tugged on his collar, the only thing about him he didn't find sexy at all."You wouldn't, oh I don't know, think it'd look suspicious for me to wear this piece of shit? I know Danny Fenton's a moron, but he's a moron with people who think for him instead."

Clockwork paused as he picked up the backpacks and glanced at Phantom. "Very well. Come here."

Half expecting to have it taken off, he eagerly approached Clockwork, and a pair of pale hands reached for his neck.

Something weird happened. Maybe it was because he had never in his entire sole existence, allowed someone to touch his throat, an instinctual problem that should have been long gone since he was no longer mortal. The throat was a sensitive thing. It could be compromised with a good ghostly blade and you'd be bleeding ectoplasm in no time to the floor. Cool fingers placed themselves against his jugular, just a tad shy away from the new pulse of his throat.

"Do you mind hurrying it up?" He growled as his body strangely enough careened into the touch, Clockwork's fingers grazing against the now sensitive parts of his neck. His teeth clenched in mild annoyance when Clockwork chuckled at the shiver he accidentally conceived.

"Are you attracted to me, Phantom?" Clockwork's voice tethered on amusement at Phantom's antics.

Phantom shrugged away, feeling for the first time uncomfortable. "Of course not. I don't swing that way." They were silent for a moment which bordered on awkwardness until Clockwork spoke.

"You've just experienced becoming human after ten years," He reasoned and Phantom refused to believe he was doing it for his benefit. "It's only natural that your body is extra-sensitive. Curious that you seem more sensitive than I am. I haven't been disguised as a human in over two hundred years."

"Damn Clockwork and his self control," Phantom muttered as Clockwork stepped back. He touched his neck. He can still feel the collar. "You did a shitty job disguising it."

On the contrary, Clockwork was admiring it for a moment and then tossed a navy blue backpack at Phantom. He caught it with one hand. "I merely made it invisible. Not even Danny Phantom can see it."

"I'm not worried about Danny 'fucking oblivious' Phantom. It's his friends you should be more aware of," Phantom narrowed his eyes. "They were smarter, more cunning. And Jas... Fenton's sister. She caught on. She always did." His response bordered on an almost nostalgic tone. Clockwork silently made a note of it.

"It's nice to know you can self-criticize without it hurting your ego," Clockwork quipped as he approached the door leading out of the apartment. Phantom instead headed for the balcony. "What are you doing?"

"It's faster to fly out, stupid." Phantom stretched his new found human legs and stood on top of the railing. He jumped.

Almost as if someone pressed the paused button, Phantom hung in mid air. Everything around was frozen except for a certain Time Master.

Clockwork palmed his young face, fingers pressed against the black hourglass on his belt. "He's just as impulsive as his teen counterpart." He had a strong desire to let go of the hourglass and cause Phantom to fall to his doom. That would definitely make his morning. Instead he walked over and pulled Phantom back onto the balcony and pressed the hourglass again. Phantom landed right onto the living room carpet.

"COULD YOU NOT FUCKING STOP TIME FOR ONCE?!" Phantom bellowed from the floor. Neighbors directly downstairs complained by hitting their ceiling with the butt of their brooms.

"Why not? It's amusing. Use the door." Clockwork opened the door slowly, as if trying to teach Phantom how to open it. "You are human now. Act like one."

Once Phantom was done having a heart-to-heart moment with the carpet, he reluctantly followed Clockwork out the apartment the normal way, grumbling about stupid school and even stupider time ghosts.


Meanwhile...

"How... how dare he?!" Observer number one crunched up the letter from Clockwork in his green hand, shaking with rage. "Does he think this job is just a backwards Nasty Burger manager position? He leaves time by itself to do its own bidding!"

"Its own bidding!" Observer number two agreed with a heavy nod.

"What if the time stream accidentally unraveled itself? The universe itself would be in danger all because one insufferable ghost thought he should relax and take a vacation!" Observer number one smacked the hand containing the letter onto Clockwork's working table.

"He thinks you've gone soft," said a feminine, trilling voice from across the corner. "He believes that he holds all the cards, therefore he should be free to defy you and do what he wants..."

Both of the Observers turned to find the source of the voice. A figure stepped forward draped in a black cloak not unlike Clockwork's.

"And who are you?" Observer number one demanded. "You are not allowed into the Ghost of Time's sanctuary!"

The hooded figure raised her head a fraction and the employers of time could see a pair of golden eyes blazing with ecto-energy. "I am merely looking for a job, my lieges." She bowed to them, something Clockwork never had the courtesy to do despite being their underling. "If you do not believe that Clockwork has remained... competent in his job, I would be more than happy to release him from his boredom and instill his responsibility on my own shoulders."

"How noble of you," Observer number one answered. "But I am afraid that Clockwork is the only ghost suited for the job. He coexists with time; he is embedded with it. All the powers of the Before, Now and Later belong solely to him."

"...Solely to him." Observer number two muttered ruefully.

The hooded figure hovered a bit before answering. "But if there was such a way to replace him, would you prevent it?"

The two Observers looked at each other and then looked at the figure. "ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

"I would like nothing more than to fire that insolent bit of ecto-goo!" Observer number one said indignantly. "If you can find a way to rid him from his duties, you may HAVE his job!"

"HAVE his job!" Observer number two repeated with the same ferocity.

The glowing eyes narrowed. "Excellent."