'"Ember would probably make a decent rock star….you know….if she wasn't bent on world domination and all."'

The blue-haired ghost sighed, resting her pale chin on the back of her hand as she sat atop their so-called meeting hall. Those words….she hadn't been able to get them out of her head since she'd battled the ghost-boy the day before. She didn't know why-after going head-to-head with Danny Phantom not only physically but verbally for so long, she'd almost become immune to the consistent banter that came out of his mouth whenever they crossed paths. Yet for some reason, this time around was different. She had been affected by his words—correction—it wasn't actually the halfa who had said them, but his friend….Tu….'T' something she thought his name was. And they hadn't been said directly to her, either. She'd just happened to eavesdrop on the conversation between Danny and his friends after she'd completed phase two of 'the boss'' plan. But to her or not, Ember was starting to wish she'd left immediately after she'd beaten the ghost-boy, instead of sticking around long enough to see the damage she'd inflicted upon him. For the longer the phrase ran through her head, the more memories from her past life kept resurfacing—memories she thought she'd repressed long ago.

Peering over the edge of the roof, Ember's mind began to wander, and a sad expression passed over her face. How long had it been since she last reflected on the past….a past where she was still alive—young and full of promise. She shook her head, the flames in her ponytail flickering when she did so. Too long, she decided, her green eyes glassy as she remembered who she had been before….before she died. However much time had been spent trying to forget, from the haziness of her thoughts, the female poltergeist guessed had to have been a good while-after all, she'd been a ghost for at least seven years—maybe more; since her death, Ember hadn't really paid much attention to time as a whole.

Shifting her eyes downward, Ember gazed at her guitar—placed at her side-and a rather poignant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. The instrument, in all its ghostly glory, still reminded her time and time again of the one she used to play….the one she'd discovered her talent with. Even after Technus' alterations, the similarities remained, though the colors themselves were and always had been different; her original guitar having a color scheme more suited to match how she looked at the time. Black and purple instead of magenta and blue.

"Ember would probably make a decent rock star….you know….if she wasn't bent on world domination and all."

The ghost-teen growled, racking the palm of her hand against her forehead. She'd almost forgotten the girl she used to be, and the life she used to have. And though there was a part of her that 

enjoyed remembering who she had been, part of her wished her memories had been truly forgotten. For, now that she was a ghost, she could do nothing about her life but reminisce; there could be no visits to the parents she'd left so long ago, no sudden miraculous re-appearance of "Ember Mclain" to bring her the fame and fortune she once had. She was dead, and as such, the only thing left Ember could ever visit was her own grave….and that was something she knew no ghost, no matter how ready they were to move on with their afterlife, wanted to do.

It isn't fair, Ember thought reproachfully, hands clenching together, why me? Why do I have to be the one to remember? She freed her hands, and one, still in a fist, punched the surface beneath her. For a moment, she wondered vaguely if there were other ghosts in the Ghost Zone who occasionally dwelled on their previous lives. But in doing so, Ember realized that, what she was really wondering was why the halfa-boy's friend would bother saying something about her like that. Especially since he and the rest of the living world viewed her kind as the enemy. Was it because she had just dueled with Danny Phantom? Or…..or was it something….else?

Vigorously, Ember shook her head again, as if the action would instantly remove the thought from her mind. There was no way….no way he could have actually meant what he said….was there? Did he really believe those words when they escaped his lips? No. No….it wasn't possible. After everything she'd done, after all the lives she'd endangered, there could be no way the ghost-boy's friend had meant it. Not in a sincere way, at least.

And yet….and yet….he'd seemed sincere when he'd made the comment-she hadn't been able to pick up on any mockery or sarcasm in his voice at the time. Nor did he appear to have put much thought into the reaction of his friends, or the fact that he was talking about one of the "threats to Amity park and the world alike"- which to Ember, seemed uncanny. Was there really someone out there who would willingly look past a ghost's dark side and see a faint glint of promise….dare she say….good? The halfa-brat certainly never had, so why would this 'Tu….Tuc….k'….

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM TELLING THE TRUTH!! WHY DO YOU NOT BELIEVE ME?!"

Ember, yelping slightly, jumped, startled at the annoyingly loud but familiar voice coming suddenly from inside the structure she now sat upon. Not him again, she thought, unappreciative of the rude rousing from her thoughts she'd been given by the infamous shrieking that could only belong to the Box Ghost, what does he want this time? She paused, attempting to guess what the irritating poltergeist could be in need of, but eventually gave up. She'd never liked the Box Ghost—he was….well….a lot of things. But quiet, decent and efficient certainly weren't part of whatever it was he was, and because of that, Ember usually paid him no head. However, what did intrigue her slightly was the sound of her temporary comrades putting up some kind of a fight. And that was something she'd always make time for. Picking up her guitar, Ember slung it across her back, and willing herself transparent, phased through the roof and into the room below.

"THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT LIE! HE KNOWS WHAT HE HAS SEEN!!" The stout spirit bellowed, pointing a shaking finger at the two opposing him.



Spectra, one of the two, folded her arms, shifting her weight to one leg and causing her body to slump subtly. "Mm-hm," she alleged, stressing the second part of the noise as she smiled deviously, "I'm sure you do. Even though there's a next-to-nothing chance you saw what you saw, I believe you!"

The Box Ghost paused, giving the impression he was studying the red-haired woman before him, and trying to decide if she was mocking him. After a second or two of silence, his mouth opened wide, preparing, no dobt, to shout his next response. But Ember chimed in before he could get the words out.

"What, exactly, is this dipstick whining about?" She questioned, looking from the blue-skinned ghost the others. Again the Box Ghost made to speak, but was cut off this time by Skulker, the second of the now three ghosts facing off against the irritating apparition.

"What this idiot is whining about, Ember, is the fact that he thinks he saw another half-ghost."

Ember's eyes widened as she stared at the metallic hunter, unprepared for a statement like that . "Really?" She inquired, temporarily losing the edge in her voice, "You mean, like Danny Phantom?"

Skulker nodded grudgingly, and Spectra rolled her eyes. "So he says, anyway." The ghost-woman added curtly, transferring her weight to her other leg.

"I DO NOT JUST SAY!!" the Box ghost suddenly interjected, tired of being left out of the conversation, "I HAVE BATTLED THIS OTHER HALF-GHOST! AND THOUGH I LOST, I USED FOUGHT HARD USING MY SUPERIOR POWER OVER ALL OBJECTS-"

"We know, we know….'square'" Spectra interrupted, finishing the statement they had all heard hundreds of thousands of times. "Look, Box Ghost, you say you lost the battle, right? So what are you doing back here? Shouldn't you be lodged somewhere in that Ghost-catching thermos of theirs?"

Ember could feel herself twitch a little at the mention of that cursed container. It had helped that ghost-brat thwart her plans several times, and Ember was non-too fond of it. Figured he'd be the one to have the one thing that could actually catch and hold a ghost. Of course, considering Danny's alias, and why her parents were, Ember knew she should expect no less from him. Nevertheless, mentioning the Fenton thermos still remained a sore spot for the blue-haired girl. And, observing his rapid and fidgety movement along with the changed expression on his face, Ember could guess it was the same with the Box Ghost, for, still glaring at Spectra, he cried

"DO NOT ASK THE BOX GHOST QUESTIONS ON SOMETHING HE KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT!! FOR YOU WILL NOT GET THE ANSWER YOU REQUIRE!!" His arms were raised now, his hands and fingers extended high above his head—his 'infamous' position when attempting to look threatening. As usual, the attempt failed….although it did manage to push Skulker over the edge, for before Ember 

could blink, he had whipped out one of the many lasers incorporated in his suite, and was now aiming it directly at the Box Ghost's plump bluish head.

"Fool though you are, don't think I won't hesitate to lock you and that mouth of yours in my trophy room and add you to my collection. So if you want to keep your freedom….and that ghostly body of yours intact, I suggest you leave us." Though completely dressed in metal, Skulker's green eyes narrowed dangerously. "Now."

The laser, extending from a metallic panel on Skulker's shoulder, began to glow; the Box Ghost, noticing this, hovered a few feet away, increasing his speed the farther from the bounty hunter he got. Deciding it was safer to, in fact, leave, the Box Ghost flew hastily upward, screaming his usual "BEWARE!" as he headed off. Waiting until he had completely phased through the wall, and thus out of eye sight and ear shot, Skulker's weapon folded and tucked itself back into its panel.

If they were able, all three ghost would have breathed a sigh of relief as they watched the Box Ghost scurry away. Whether it be the living world or the Ghost Zone, the Box Ghost was a pain in nearly everyone's side. Still, Ember couldn't help but dwell on what he'd been shrieking about earlier. Turning to Skulker, she asked "Do you….do you think it's possible he wasn't…."

"No." The hunter replied curtly, interrupting before Ember even had the chance to finish her question. "I don't."

She glared at him, placing her balled hands on her hips. "Well, thanks for hearing me out, dipstick." She uttered, purposely drenching her response with disdain. She knew it the probably of another halfa roaming Amity Park was incredibly slim, but the prospect intrigued her nonetheless. It wasn't as if she was actually hoping the Box Ghost's ear-piercing rants had been true—that would be crazy—but rather the fact she'd always been curious if there were others out there like the ghost-boy, who decided to use their powers for the greater good, instead of their own personal enjoyment.

Spectra, aware the younger ghost-girl had lost herself in thought over the matter, grasped Ember's pale shoulder and gave it a firm shake. "Listen honey," she began, after reviving the girl, "of all the ghosts who inhabit this zone, the Box Ghost could be the dimmest bulb of them all—you know that."

Ember nodded, jerking herself free of Spectra's hold, and crossing her arms. "I know," she snapped, her senses refocusing and the sharp tone in her voice returning, "get to the point."

"The point," Spectra went on, frowning, "is that everything said by the Box Ghost-every action taken-is bound to be full of nonsense….and therefore, shouldn't be bothered with. Understand?"

'Understand?' Where did that come from? "Of course, I understand, dipstick!" Ember shot, her fiery hair flaring in aggravation at the older woman, "I'm not a child, and I'm not stupid either." From somewhere to her left she heard Skulker scoff, to which she responded by shooting a ray of magenta ecto-energy from her finger in his direction. Ignoring his startled cry, Ember glowered hard at Spectra, beginning to rise from the floor.



"I know you think you're on his good side, Spectra," she said, now addressing their 'leader' and Spectra's newfound superior attitude towards those younger and what she considered 'less experienced,' "but I'd watch out. There's something about him...something….different….and whatever it is, we can't trust him."

Shock flickered over Spectra's face, giving Ember mild satisfaction that she'd hit the needle on the head, but at the moment, the girl had more important things to do. Such as getting out of here so she could have some time to think. Much farther off the ground than she had been before, her flaming ponytail began to grow, and twisted swiftly around her body. As her vision became engulfed in blue, the ghost-teen's reflected over everything that had just happened, and was amazed at how fast it all seemed to have happened. Shrugging, her thoughts once again fell on the earlier phrase which kept entering her mind.

'"Ember would probably make a decent rock star….you know….if she wasn't bent on world domination and all."'

She was still bothered by the words, and the boy who said them, which was partially why she was leaving the 'boss'' meeting hall and venturing off somewhere to clear her head. But as her world became wrapped in a sizzling blue, phrase matched manner matched face, and everything clicked.

Tucker. That was his name.

I know, I know. You guys are all probably wondering "What the HECK was that about?!" Well truth be told….actually….I really can't say—not yet. Just know that Ember's perspective IS actually important, especially for the end of this fic. So please don't think this chapter was a waste of time! Because I can assure you, it wasn't!