A/N: Yes, its a Danny Phantom and Doctor Who crossover.
Used to be its own story, but when I realized that I was never, ever going to update, I've decided to put it in here. Yay?
The Doctor to Danny-boy
English class. The class that evokes malevolence and cruelty. Its dusty books which hold malice in forms of metaphors and imagery. Its chalkboards, which, when written upon, screech vindictively. Only students know the tribulations that English class truly possesses. The clock ticks slowly, torturously, mocking the students by moving as leisurely as possible. The students abhor the homework, the tests, the class work, and especially the teacher.
Danny tried to pay attention in English. Really, he did. There was just something so tedious and just plain boring about Mr. Lancer, as usual.
So he usually played hang-man with Tucker instead, until his ghost sense appeared and he had to leave.
It was a drizzly Friday morning, when he came. Danny was winning his fifth game of hangman (easily, when all Tucker can think of are names of all of his PDAs). Sam was watching them intently; she had given up on taking notes a long time ago.
Mr. Lancer was so engrossed in his lecture on the auditory imagery present in A Tale of Two Cities, and how it developed the motif of echoing footsteps, that he didn't notice that more than half of his class was asleep, texting, or doodling. His voice became a monotonous hum in the background, much like the heater or the incessant rain on top of their heads.
Danny gasped suddenly; a cold, blue swirl of air escaped his mouth, and he automatically raised his hand. "Mr. Lancer, can I-?"
Some muffled screams arose from outside the room, probably caused by the ghost.
The door swung open with a bang. Lancer leaped about five feet in the air, his chalk dropping on the carpet. Danny braced himself, expecting the ghost.
Instead, a young looking man wearing a tweed jacket and a red bow-tie bounded inside, pointing a blue tipped device all around the room. He spun several times, his device making an odd resounding buzz.
A younger looking woman with red hair and a brown leather jacket followed behind him, gasping and clutching her stomach. "Doctor," she panted. "Why did we run all the way to this classroom?" She had a strange accent that Danny couldn't quite place- British? Scottish?
The device that this so called "Doctor" was brandishing chirped louder when it reached Danny, who had been in the process of getting his Fenton Thermos so he could deal with the ghost.
"Aha!" he exclaimed, delighted, and rushed to Danny's seat. "Amy, I found the little bugger!" He definitely had a British accent.
Danny stared at him, shocked. "What?"
The man, the Doctor, opened his mouth to speak again, when a third interruption occurred. Another man, wearing a plaid shirt, rushed inside, clutching a red bucket.
"Doctor, its coming, its right behind me, but I found the bucket!" He held it up for approval.
The Doctor rolled his eyes, turning away from a thoroughly confused Danny. "No, Rory! I said that this reminds me of the time I used a red bucket, I asked you to get the red bucket, but then I said, 'Forget the bucket!' Anyway, I found the right gadget! It was right under our noses, the whole time!" He tapped his nose covertly and chuckled.
Mr. Lancer finally gained his speech. "What are you doing here?" he blurted out. "This is a high schoo-"
The ghost finally arrived, and Danny was almost relieved by this normality. He didn't care that he was still Fenton, and hadn't gotten a chance to escape. He had the Fenton Thermos, so it was all good.
The ghost was green and purple and big; it looked like the Minotaur from Princess Dora's realm, but without horns on its head. It bellowed at Mr. Lancer, visibly blowing Mr. Lancer back a few steps. Lancer screamed girlishly and ran out of the room, leaving the class to fend for themselves.
Danny, Sam and Tucker, now standing, tried to look as scared as the rest of the class, which was screaming their heads off and running in every direction.
The ghost turned to face the class, and prepared a ball of green fire in its hand. It directed it at Dash, who looked like he was going to pee in his pants.
The strange Doctor winked at Danny, snatched the thermos out of his hand, and whirled around, aiming at the ghost. Within a split-second, it had been sucked in.
"Whew. I'm a bit rusty but not bad," he commented, throwing the thermos in the air and catching it like he was an expert.
Danny blinked. "What?"
I do in fact hate English class, although its the reason I have pretty good writing skillz. And A Tale of Two Cities- I don't own it, and its the longest, hardest and most confusing book I have ever read in English. The most interesting book, though.