Prompt: Danny Phantom was famous enough to have in-canon merchandise in Reality Trip. Now that he's literally saved the world? Well, faithful con-going Tucker is having the time of his life.

Prompter: Sapphireswimming

Word count: 4705

Team: Ghost

(Gosh. Cons. Does anyone remember cons? Does anyone remember anything other than Quarantine, really? Haven't been to one in years, but gosh, I miss it. Anyway! Enjoy~)

And I'm Havin' the Time of my Life

—

"Saaaaam," Tucker moaned over the video chat. "S-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-mmmm, I need more monnnneyyyyy…"

Sam sipped at her strawberry shake and fought not to smirk. God, he sounded so wounded. The effect was undercut, somewhat, by the fact that he was in full Star Trek cosplay, but even with the pointy vulcan ears and pronounced Spock eyebrows, Tucker still managed to pull off an Oscar-worthy performance of utter betrayal and woe.

"Aw, poor baby," she crooned, her voice teasing. "Did somebody spend all their money on the first day of Comic Con?"

She got her answer in the form of a whine. "Why is California so expeeeeeeeensive?"

A clatter on the table distracted her thoughts. Sam looked up just in time to see Danny slide a tray of food onto the table. Their usual order from the Nasty Burger looked a little strange without Tucker's usual of a triple decker cheeseburger there, but he'd still ordered enough for them both.

"Hey Sam," Danny said as he unloaded the tray, doling out napkins as he sorted out his food from hers. He peeked idly over her shoulder. "Who're you talking to?"

"Tucker called."

About to sit down, Danny paused, then smiled, eyebrows raised. "Oh?"

"Dannnnyyyyyy~" Tucker whined theatrically, and Danny let Sam pull him down into the booth seat beside her. "Daaaaaaaannyyyy, you gotta help me out here, man, I neeeeed more caaaash—"

"Oh, Tuck. Don't tell me you're broke already?" Danny asked, amused. "What did you even buy?"

Sam smirked. "Ten bucks says he accidentally blew it all on junkfood."

"Hey now," Tucker dropped the begging act for a moment. "I may have spent $50 on street food, sure, but I'm telling you, that was a choice."

Danny, about to take a bite of his fries, choked.

"F—" he sputtered. "Fifty dollars?"

"—Maybe more?" Tucker said. Danny made another incoherent sputter at that. "I dunno, man. California's expensive."

"Well, regardless of your spending habits," Sam began, ignoring Danny's disbelieving squawk of 'fifty dollars' in the background, in favor of turning the camera back on herself. "…At least it sounds like you're enjoying yourself. So tell me, oh Nerdy one. Is it everything you ever dreamed?"

A misty look of awe glimmered behind his glasses. "And more," Tucker said, eyes shining. "It's amazing, Sam. Comic Con is bigger than ever this year. You guys are SO missing out."

They'd been there, fleetingly, during the incident with Freakshow, but the whole life-and-death aspect of the trip had sorta put a dampener on things. After the Disasteroid, Tucker had surprised everyone by announcing his intention to fill a couple of big Bucket List items—fair enough, the world had almost ended, after all—and of course, among other things, Comic Con topped his list.

Danny couldn't go, thanks to the increased ghost activity in Amity, and Sam decided to stay to support him, but she was glad, at least, that Tucker was having fun.

"And on that note," Tucker recomposed himself and resumed his begging act. "Sam? Please-please-PLEASE can I have a looooaaannn?

"Wow. You really must be desperate," Sam teased, her eyes dancing. Tucker usually avoided asking her for money - something about how a loan implied repay - though she suspected his pride was a front to mask the fact that he knew her own wealth made her uncomfortable. But for him to just come right out and ask… her eyes gleamed. "What are you planning to buy?"

Tucker's eyes flittered over to Danny's face for a moment, then back, the corner of his mouth twitching. "It's a secret?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. What, was he planning to buy an anime body pillow or something?

"And how much money did you have in mind?" she asked.

Tucker's head turned to look at something off-screen. "Uh, tough to say? There's a lot."

"You called to ask for money before you even knew how much you needed?"

"To be fair, I didn't think I'd get this far."

Ah, then maybe his request was just for fun. Sam rolled her eyes, dramatically, playing along. "Well, I'm gonna have to say 'no', then," she said. "Because for all I know you could be spending another fifty dollars on overpriced spare ribs at the Con."

"But Saaaaaaaam, you don't understaaaaaand—" Tucker, eyes gleaming, swung his PDA around. A smile was teasing the corner of his mouth; he was barely keeping a straight face. "I finally got to artist's alley, and you'll neeeeeeeeever guess what I foooooooound~"

She was expecting, maybe, a giant lego deathstar, or the newest, latest version of his current PDA. She was prepared, even, for life-size cutouts of his favorite heroes, or a celebrity cartoonist handing out signed sketches for eighty bucks a pop.

She was not expecting the sea of black and white, visible over Tucker's shoulder, of countless cosplayers in white wigs and black hazmat suits — and she certainly wasn't expecting to see a similar sea of merchandise, all adorned with a flying white D, Stocked. At. Every. Stall.

Sam's jaw dropped. "Shut. Up," she laughed, utterly delighted.

Comic Con was bigger than ever this year, and Danny Phantom, apparently, had stolen the show.

Behind her, Danny startled, his jaw dropping wide. "Wait, what?" He grabbed the phone in Sam's hand and tilted it so he could better see. "Wh—why does everything there have my symbol on it?" he demanded.

"Well," Tucker consoled, "That's not entirely true." He turned the PDA to bring some t-shirts into view. "Some of it just has your face. See?"

Danny stared at the t-shirt, featuring an unflattering forward portrait shot of himself. The face's expression was disturbing - cursed, really - staring back at them with a vacant gaze so intense that it could probably bore through a brick wall.

"Burn it," Danny demanded. "Burn it all."

Tucker was laughing, now, unrepentant. Hey, man, what did you expect? You're famous, you're a real live superhero, you just saved the world - of course Comic Con is going to be all over you."

Danny groaned. "This is the Reality Gauntlet all over again," he moaned. "And I don't even have a convenient reset button this time."

"Cheer up," Tucker said, grabbing a nearby action figure off a stall. "At least you get some sweet action figures out of the deal." He squeezed the toy, and it squeaked, and let out a slightly-off mimic of Danny's voice announcing I'm goin' ghost!

Danny groaned and let his head thump to the table below.

"So," Tucker said, adopting a businesslike tone, "Miss Manson, now that you know the details of our little arrangement, perhaps you'd be willing to reconsider?"

Sam took the phone back from Danny and made a couple quick taps. "I'm sending you two thousand dollars and I want doubles of everything," she announced.

Danny's head shot up in an instant. "Two thousand—no!"

"…You're right," Sam agreed, "— that's not nearly enough. Five thousand it is."

"No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O—"

Danny lunged for her phone, but it was too late. She'd pressed send.

On Tucker's end, his PDA ping'd, and his face lit up in a manic smile. "Why, thank you for your patronage, ma'am," he said, starting his walk down the halls. "Now, what shall we buy first? Allow me to give you a tour of the options…"

"I hate you all." Danny sulked from his seat.

Even Danny, as grumpy as he was, was begrudgingly impressed by the fact that there was just so much stuff.

The Con wasn't entirely Danny Phantom themed, (thank god), a fact that became apparent on Tucker's tour. There were the usual booths of anime-themed fanart and video game demos, comic book wholesalers and cosplay accessory experts. But nearly everything that wasn't a specialized booth had at least a little Danny Phantom merch, and that, combined with the Phantom-only stalls, made the tour a bit overwhelming.

Tucker bought enough posters to wallpaper his bedroom, and, true to his word, bought Sam a copy of each. There were also plushies, big and small, action figures (with 'real ghostly glow!' the packages boasted,) fanart, pencil cases, mugs, rings, pins, backpacks, t-shirts, and more, all decorated in black and white, and featuring his iconic insignia, the flying white D.

"I knew I should've copyrighted that symbol," Danny grumbled, as Tucker inspected the stitchwork on one of the many t-shirts decked out with the icon.

"Right?" Tucker laughed. "You'd be rich already."

"That's ok. My girlfriend willingly throws five thousand dollars at her friends just to buy Danny Phantom themed pillows. I think if I'm ever strapped for cash I'm all set."

Sam elbowed him in the ribs.

"Kind of a shame, though," Tucker commented, swinging around the stall, inspecting the other t-shirt styles. "I was hoping for more variety, ya know? Like, maybe a shirt with the Disasteroid on it, or an aerial shot of Amity Park, or—"

Tucker's voice died just as his eyes, and the camera, fell on a t-shirt that read It's Not Gay If He's Dead.

"…Tucker no," Danny said firmly.

"Tucker yes!" Tuck announced, and immediately bought two.

—

That was how most of the afternoon went, with Tucker finding something absurd amongst the stacks and Danny mostly failing to talk him out of buying it.

He succeeded once—and even then, only out of practicality.

"Where would you even put it?" Danny argued, as Tucker hemmed and hawed over the life-size statue of Phantom that one of the corner booths was selling.

"I guess you're right," Tucker admitted at last, pouting. His bedroom would be crowded enough already, with everything else he was stocking up on today. "Shame, though. It looks just like you."

Danny breathed a sigh of relief. If he had to look at that thing, day in and day out…

"I still want one," Sam announced.

"You got it, boss," Tucker said, immediately purchasing one for delivery.

When Danny fumed, Sam turned to smirk at her grumpy boyfriend. "Don't look at me like that. I live in a mansion. I have room."

And he couldn't even argue, because it was true.

"Your mom's gonna kill you when she sees it," Danny pointed out.

Sam's eyes went dreamy. "Oh, I know."

One stall featured nothing but plushies, and interestingly enough, they weren't all of Danny Phantom.

"That Box Ghost one is unfairly cute," Sam commented, sounding a little annoyed. "I guess the designer never met him."

"Do you think if we bought ol' Boxy one and gave it to him for Christmas, he'd leave us alone?"

"Doubt it," Sam sighed. "It'd probably make things worse. Now, Ember, on the other hand—" she pointed to a plush across the booth.

"Ooh. Good call, I'll get a few."

Danny squinted at the phone, looking suspicious. "Is that… Vlad?" he asked at last, nodding to the blue vampire figure nestled behind some blob ghost plush.

Tucker shifted the merch around to pull it out. "Oh, huh. Yeah, looks like it is, man. Why do you ask?"

"…Can you… maybe buy me four or five?"

"Why on earth would you want five Plasmius plushies?"

"…Target practice."

The owner of the stall ended up giving them a discount to encourage them to buy more of the Plasmius plushes - apparently, Vlad's was the only plush folks weren't buying - and so Tucker walked away with a whole crate of Plasmius toys, along with half a dozen copies of every ghost they could find.

If some of those plushies turned up in their respective ghost's lairs over the next few weeks, well….

Maybe Danny could admit that this spending spree had its perks.

"Oh my god, Danny, look! It's a fan comic," Tucker gushed.

Danny was beyond trying to convince Tucker to look the other way, and instead settled for clasping his hands in front of his face, praying desperately. "Please let it be PG, Please let it be PG—"

Tucker laughed and flipped open the front page.

"Hey, the art on this is actually pretty good," Sam commented, right off. "And accurate? That's clearly the Nasty Burger right there…"

"No kidding," Tucker said, and continued to flip. Danny risked cracking an eye open. "It's even got Skulker down pat… and I think that's Paulina in the background…"

"…What's the story about?" Danny asked.

"The story's following an OC insert… or maybe an Amity Park resident I don't recognize…" Tucker continued to flip the pages. The story played out of a young woman, late for work, taking a shortcut through an alley and running afoul of a giant ghost snake…

"Wait a second," Danny interrupted as Tucker turned the page, showing Phantom swooping in for his grand entrance. "Wait, this actually happened."

"It did?" Tucker asked, confused.

"Yeah remember that day all the ghost animals were running amok in Amity? The ones that escaped from Skulker's island?" Danny pointed. "That snake is definitely one of them."

"You're sure?"

"That thing almost took my head off, Sam. Of course I'm sure."

The next page featured Phantom, caught in the snake ghost's coils. "Huh." Tucker flipped idly through the pages, watching Phantom break free and then capture the snake. "So it's based on a true story…?"

"Well…" Danny examined the pages more closely after that. Phantom caught a giant ghost centipede, a ghost eagle, a ghost wolf, a ghost panda - "Okay that last one didn't happen—" - and returned them all to a Ghost Zone Zoo - "…also didn't happen," - where the zookeeper, Skulker - "…What." - thanked him profusely for the re-capture of his animals.

"Imagine what Skulker would say if he read this," Sam laughed.

Tucker flipped to the back of the comic and read the fine print. "Let's see— 'all of our stories are based on eyewitness accounts from the residents of Amity Park.'. Huh. Okay. Well, I guess that tracks? I mean. If folks saw Phantom running around capturing ghost animals all in one day, a zoo break is a logical conclusion…"

"Wait. 'All of our stories'?" Danny parroted. "There are more?"

Tucker flipped the booklet again to look at the spine. "Issue fourteen," he read, somewhat in awe.

Sam frowned. "There's no way that someone sketched, illustrated, colored, and published fourteen comics between now and the Disasteroid," she pointed out, truthfully. There'd been only three months since Danny's secret emerged. Even doing one full comic a week wouldn't cut it. She and Danny shared a look, perplexed.

Tucker flagged down the booth owner, who'd just finished up a sale. "Excuse me!" he called. "I have some questions about this comic here…"

"Sure thing!" the man said, pausing a moment to wrap up the customer's purchase and hand back the change. After bidding them goodbye, the man, a slim guy in his late 30s with hair starting to gray, made his way over. "Sorry for the wait, what can I do for you?"

Tucker held up the book. "Are you the author of this comic?"

"I am," the man confirmed, "The name's Matt Johnson, nice to meet you."

"How long have you been making this series, Matt?"

The man's face split into a grin. "Good question! Almost two years."

Danny blinked. Two years? That would put the start around—just before Walker's invasion of the city? Huh. That was… quite a while.

Tucker frowned, considering the comic's back cover again. "And am I reading this right? All your information comes from people who live in Amity Park?"

"Mostly. We do take some artistic liberties, so we can make the stories into, well. Stories. Trying to fill in the blanks for what the public doesn't see." He pointed at a girl in pink featured on one page. "This girl here is one of my most dedicated informants."

Tucker laughed. "Paulina. Should've known."

The man tilted his head. "Oh. Do you know her?"

"…Sorta," Tucker admitted with a shrug. "Anyway, I gotta ask. Do you live in Amity Park?"

A chuckle. "No," Matt admitted. "Though that would make more sense, wouldn't it. No, I travel for my job. Amity Park was—weird enough, on my first pass-through, that I kept my eye on the news. Phantom's actually been a bit of a cult phenomenon for months, long before the Disasteroid even hit our radar."

Danny hummed a bit at that, surprised. He knew he made the news in Amity Park, but… outside the town? He'd had a following, even before the Disasteroid? Huh.

…Weird.

"Just one more question," Tucker said, flipping the comic closed. He looked up into Matt's eyes, sharp and scrutinizing. "Why'd you start making these comics?"

A pause. "Well," Matt said at last. "To tell the truth—Phantom actually saved my daughter's life a couple of years back."

A blink. "He did?"

"I did?" Danny asked, brow furrowing.

"I doubt he knows, really," Matt said, as he dug around on the table, looking for a particular comic - the first. Finding it, he handed it to Tucker - the cover boasted Madam Babazita, at the arts fair, with Desiree in the background.

"See, I'm a small traveling artist," Matt explained. "This comic's my passion project, but mainly I paint portraits. I was in Amity Park for an art show, lots of folks from all over. While I was there, one of the food stalls malfunctioned, and there was some sort of… cotton candy? Explosion? …Spill? — I know it doesn't make any sense, but stuff like that happens all the time in Amity Park—"

"True enough," Tucker agreed, urging him on.

"Anyway. My family was near the center of it. My daughter got caught up in the flow." Matt nudged Tucker to open the comic, a few pages in - to show a little girl with blue-green overalls getting swept up by a river of pink. "She can't swim. But then, Phantom - we didn't know his name at the time - pulled my daughter out and brought her back to my wife. He disappeared before she could thank him."

Danny remembered the incident. Or at least, the context. Desiree's first appearance at the local swap meet. The girl, he didn't remember. There were too many people that day - every day - to really remember them all.

Matt set the comic aside. "Afterwards, I couldn't stop thinking about it. The event was so weird that even after leaving, I kept my eye on the town's news. And pretty soon, other stories started popping up. Other people, all seeing the same heroic, white haired, green-eyed teen, swooping in to save the day."

"You saw a pattern."

"I did." Matt nodded. "And when I reached out to others, I found people like me. People with stories to tell, who wanted to know more, who wanted… to thank this kid, but didn't know how." Matt shrugged. "So those stories - I guess it only seemed natural - I started collecting them."

Matt reached down and, from beneath the table, produced a boxed set - the collection, all told, looked to be about fifty issues thick.

Tucker stared a moment at the set. "A lot of stories, I see," he said at last.

Something in Danny's chest twinged. All those stories… all those people. He never thought—

Whatever he was feeling must've shown on his face, because Sam put a hand on his arm. "You okay?" she asked softly.

Danny swallowed and simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Part of me always hoped Phantom would find my series," Matt admitted, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. "Then again, part of me hopes he never will."

"Oh?" Tucker asked. Danny and Sam didn't miss the way Tucker subtly turned his PDA to keep the screen from Matt's view. "Why not?"

"Well, some of the earlier stories are… embarrassing," Matt admitted, cringing. "I'm a portrait artist, not a comic expert - or a journalist. There were a lot of innacuracies until I hit my stride. Like, we didn't know Phantom's name at first, so when 'Inviso-Bill' dropped, I kinda took off running with it… Bill, Billy, William, you know—" He laughed, embarrassed. "Stuff like that."

"Inviso-Bill," Tucker mused. "Haven't heard that one in a while."

Matt looked rueful. "Due to the inaccuracies, the series is going to be discontinued soon. Maybe revised. But… I can't say I regret putting those stories out there. Phantom gets a lot of flak from the press - ghost fights, collateral damage - but no one really talks about the people he's saved. I mean, this here?" he gestured to the boxed set. "This isn't even all of it. It's just the unique stories, the ones I had the time and patience to illustrate. I had countless others who told me the same story, over and over - he saved me, he protected my family - he disappeared."

Matt looked up at Tucker. "If you asked me how many lives he's changed, I don't think I could tell you. At this point, I don't think anyone can…" He trailed off. "Maybe not even Phantom knows."

Tucker, at last, chanced a look at his phone, his eyes falling on Danny's suspiciously bright blue gaze staring back at him through the screen.

"No," Tucker agreed, his voice quiet. "You're right. I don't think he knew."

A pause, and Matt, awkwardly, coughed. "So, uh— sappy story aside, the boxed set is $275 for all 52 copies and two bonus issues, and the individual ones are eight bucks a pop," He explained. "—We're also looking to have a Disasteroid retrospective put together come Decemeber, but the research going into that is gonna be… pretty extensive, so we don't have an exact release date as of yet. You can get more details on my webpage. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

Tucker smiled. "Well, guys? What do you think?" he asked, looking down at his phone. "Mind if I get us each a copy?"

"—That's fine," Danny said, his voice cracking a bit.

"Alright. Three Box Sets, please," Tucker said.

Matt's eyebrows shot up. "Three," he repeated, just to be sure. Tucker nodded, and Matt smiled to himself. "Wow. You know at this rate, I'm gonna run out of stock," he commented, going to dig two more boxed sets out from beneath the table and moving to ring them up.

Danny cleared his throat. "Hey Matt?" he asked.

"Oh! Yes?" Matt asked, eyes shifting when he realized the question came from where Tucker was holding his PDA.

"What's your daughter's name?"

"…Molly," he answered. "She's eight now."

Danny nodded to himself. "Tucker, get another copy of that first issue too, please?" he said. "—And his business card?"

"Is this your current mailing address?" Tucker asked, toting Matt's card as he dropped Issue #1 onto the pile.

Matt looked suspicious, but continued to ring him up, regardless. "Yes. Why?"

"Oh, my friend probably wants to sign your work and send it back as a gift," Tucker explained.

Danny, despite himself, smirked. "You can always see right through me, Tuck—even when I'm not invisible."

Matt's gaze flickered from Tucker's face to the phone and back again, confused.

"My friends and I live in Amity Park," Tucker elaborated, though that didn't even come close to clearing things up. Matt, poor guy, looked even more confused. "In fact," Tucker said, snatching up another business card and using a newly-acquired Phantom themed pen to scrawl his own email address on the back. "Why don't you get in touch with us when you're doing that Disasteroid research? Probably best you get the story from the horse's mouth." He handed it back with a nod.

"Oh! Thank you for the offer—er, I didn't get your name?" Matt tucked the email in his pocket and then offered his hand to shake.

"Tucker," he clasped Matt's hand in his with a smile. "—Foley. As in T.F., for Too Fine."

The speed at which recognition took over Matt's face, eyes wide and pupils shrinking, was, quite frankly, hilarious.

"—Tucker Foley?!" he demanded, about jumping out of his skin. "THE Tucker Foley?! Th—the guy who designed and built the transfer device that helped make the Earth intangible? That Tucker Foley?!"

"The one and only." Tucker preened.

"Oh my god, your costume, I didn't recognize—" Matt stammered, and suddenly, in a blink, there was a pad of paper and a pen in his hand. Where did he get that? "I have so many questions!"

"That's what the email is for, dude. So you can get in touch with us if you need."

"Oh. I—yes, of course, I—" He paused, there, abruptly, and it was like the three teenagers could hear the gears turning in his head. Matt looked up. "'Us'… When you said your friend wanted so sign my comic, you mean— that was—?"

Fighting a smile, Tucker held out his PDA for Matt to see.

Danny, after a prod from Sam, waved back. "Hi there."

A pause.

"I think I need to sit down," Matt said emphatically.

In the end, Tucker walked away from that booth with five new boxed sets - (Matt insisted on the freebies, and, well, it wasn't like they couldn't give one to Jazz. Or Skulker.) - as well as one of the two-wheeled carts the man used to load and unload boxes from his car. Tucker had wisely bartered for the cart when, after the purchase, it became clear that he didn't have the arm strength to lift his newly acquired comics, much less all of the bags of posters, apparel, figurines, and merch he'd already acquired.

"Just admit it, Tuck," Danny drawled, as Tucker made his way down the hallway whistling. "You've totally gone overboard."

"Nonsense. First of all, I still have a good thousand dollars left in my account," Tucker pointed out, earning a groan. "And second, this is Comic Con. Going overboard is half the point."

"Half?"

"The other half is visiting panels and seminars." Tucker said. "Speaking of which, I was thinking—"

"Whatever you're about to propose, my answer is no."

"Aww. But don't you think the fans here would love a little meet'n'greet? You'd make for a great keynote speaker."

Danny scowled. "…That's it, I'm hanging up."

"WAITwaitwait I'm joking," Tucker assured him.

"You better be."

Sam poked Danny in the side. "Come on, now. Lighten up a little. I may be Goth, but next to you, I practically look like a ray of sunshine," she teased. She tilted her head. "You did have a little fun with this, didn't you?"

Danny grumbled. "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm just—" Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's all just so… strange, you know? Up until a few months ago, most people treated me like a public menace, and now…" he trailed off.

"… Now everyone likes you?" Tucker finished.

"Yeah." Danny nodded, then made a face. "It's weird."

"Oh, Danny. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get used to it," Sam assured him, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. He blushed a bit, and smiled back.

"—Hopefully by next year," Sam added, cheeky. "Because we are definitely doing this again."

"Aaaaaaaaaand the warm fuzzy feelings are gone." Danny rolled his eyes. But he was smiling, but it didn't count.

Ignoring that, Sam turned back to her phone. "Now, Tucker," she said, "Get back down to Artist's Alley and see if we can't spend that last thousand."

"You got it, Sam," Tucker agreed, already doubling back. "If nothing else, I'm sure we can get something customized. Fanart. Sticker sheets. A Ghost Zone themed lava lamp."

Danny, despite himself, snorted at that last one.

"I'm telling ya, Tuck," he said, picking at his ketchup and fries that'd long since gone cold. "Three months from now, you are going to regret every single one of these purchases."

"Perhaps," Tucker conceded. "But right now, I am in Nerd Heaven, surrounded by merch that both celebrates and irritates my longest-standing friend. And I assure you," Tucker grinned,

"—I am having the time of my life."

—