Chapter Two

Kauffman Apartments, April 19, 2006

". . .Danny?" Valerie asked incredulously.

Danny was carrying two platters of breakfast food, dressed in a ragtag grey shirt and pants (which only seemed to stay up because of a piece of twine tied around his waist), wearing no shoes, and had a strange choker necklace around his neck. His hair was messier than usual, and deep bags lined his eyes.

"Yes, milady?" he asked meekly, placing the trays on the table and beginning to pass out food.

Valerie was unable to reply.

"She's having a rough morning, Dan. Give me some more of that toast."

"Yes, milord . . ."

"How . . . what . . . why . . . what?" Valerie finally managed to spit out.

"I said I wanted more toast."

"Not that, Dad. The . . . and the . . . yeah . . ." Confusion had practically shut down the ordinarily-composed girl's mind.

Danny turned to her, keeping his head bowed low, and a plate of eggs balanced on his right palm. "Is there something about the meal that displeases you, milady?"

"No . . yeah . . . well . . . Why are you . . . you know . .. Serving . . . breakfast . . . dressed . . .well . . . no . . . yeah . . ."

"I am sorry, I do not understand, milady."

Damien was shaking his head. "She's been strange all morning," he said.

"Yeah . . . neither . . . me. Talk . . . weird. Why?" Her attempted sentences were beginning to become more coherent. Not by much.

"Again, I am sorry, I do not understand, milady."

"Milady. Why? Dream . . . yeah. Dream . . ."

Danny lowered his head farther, as though he was ashamed of not being able to understand her crazed babbles.

It wouldn't be best to blame Valerie, however. Her life was straightforward: wake up, eat, school, fight ghosts, home, eat, fight ghosts, sleep. Danny, now, was dressed in second-hand quality clothing, calling her milady, and talking with the impeccable grammar no teenaged boy ever should. Not to mention her dad's odd behavior.

The mind can only take so much confusion, after all. And the more routine your life is, the easier it is to get confused.

"Yeah. Okay. Right. Why you call me milady? What with the proper speak? And . . . clothes? Why you here?"

Danny bit his lip, now just as thoroughly befuddled as Valerie. "Milady, do you wish me to change my behavior? Is it not good enough for you? I will alter myself if you so desire . . ."

Pushing Danny out of the way, Damien leaned over and held his forehead to Valerie's forehead. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

Meanwhile, Danny struggled not to drop his plate of eggs.

At long last the haze of bewilderment ascended from her mind. "I'm fine, Dad. Just confused . . . why is Danny acting so . . . not Danny?"

"What do you mean?" Damien asked, concerned.

"All, you know, 'milady' and with the horrible clothes . . ."

"Valerie . . . please tell me this is part of your game."

Her desire to stay out of St. Marlo lost in the game against her curiosity. "No, it's just that something is seriously messed up."

Damien peered at his daughter, concern evident on his face. "I'll call the doctors, Val. Danny . . . put those eggs down, and tell Valerie what's going on. I think she's lost her bearings."

Placing the plate on the table, Danny bowed to Valerie's father and replied, "Yes, milord."

Damien rushed out of the room, muttering. Danny stood in front of Valerie, just sitting there, staring at him like he had grown horns and was holding a pitchfork. "What the heck did you do with Danny?"

"Nothing, milady. Will you allow me to carry out Master Gray's request, if you will?" he said, without the hint of annoyance that might have been there if . . . if he was actually Danny.

"Sure . . ." Valerie agreed hesitantly.

"It is breakfast, milady, which I was serving as I rightfully should, to you, Master and Mistress Grey, humans, superior beings. You seem to be acting as Master Grey thinks you shouldn't." He recited it like a memorized speech.

". . . Huh?" She couldn't get past one little part of that sentence. "Danny, aren't you human?"

"I am half human, milady."

"What's the other half?" Did she really want to know?

"Ghost, milady."

Shaking her head, Valerie replied, "Excuse me, what?"

"Ghost, mil . . ."

"I heard you!" Val exclaimed. She paused for a moment, and her eyes became thoughtful. Then she laughed. "Now I know this is a dream. No one can be half human and half ghost at the same time."

"If you don't wish me to be, I could always . . ."

Realizing what he was about to say, Valerie cut in. "No, that won't be . . . necessary." She ran a hand through her thick black hair. "Yeah, so, can you, like, prove you're half ghost, or whatever?"

Danny nodded hesitantly, and closed his eyes, and concentrated for what seemed like the longest time. A blue ring appeared at his waist, and slowly split in two, moving upward and downward, until all that was left of Danny was . . .

Phantom.

Meanwhile . . .

(ordinary universe)

Valerie shut her eyes, breathed deeply, and turned around to face the empty plot of land where her house should be.

Opening her eyes, she realized it still wasn't there.

She rushed back to the Fentons, barging in right when they were eating. "You were right," she mumbled, sliding into a free chair at the table. "I'm going insane."

Then she looked up, Danny was looking at her funny (she knew why, even if no one else did. She got the impression they didn't know about his inferiority.), Maddie was looking at her, concerned, and Jack was still eating. None of that came as much of a shock as someone sitting there that shouldn't be.

"Jazz?" she asked innocently. "When did you get back from St. Marlo?"

Blinking, Jazz slid the fork out of her mouth. "What?"

"St. Marlo. You were there, and in a coma . . . and now you're back . . . I'm glad."

Danny covered his mouth with his napkin to hide his snicker, and looked at Jazz to see her reaction.

"Valerie . . . I've never been to St. Marlo," the redhead said carefully. "If anything, I think you need to take a look at the possibility that . . ."

Val leaned on her elbow. "I got it. I'm going insane."

"Been there, done that," Danny told her. "Besides, no schizophrenic could ever be as bad as Dad was after the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick incident."

Jazz started to giggle. "You got that right."

Staring, Valerie put her face on the table. "So, like, I'm poor, unpopular, you're not crazy, and Danny isn't half ghost and my slave?"

Danny spit out his food, closely followed by Jazz. Maddie, who'd been listening to the kids' conversation with vague interest, gave Valerie a worried look. Jack, again, kept on eating.

"Wha . . . what about the . . . half-ghost . . . thing? That's ridiculous," Danny said nervously.

"And your slave? That's crazy," Jazz added, though much more confidently.

Lifting her head, the poor, misplaced girl gazed at everybody. "What's St. Marlo's phone number?"

Jazz shook her head. "I'm sure you're fine."

"You weren't so sure before."

"Well, if you think you're going insane, you can't be. It's like catch twenty-two," Danny put in for his sister.

Valerie couldn't believe how . . . normal he was acting. He was acting he did when his ghost half was activated. Only less malevolent.

Shrugging, Danny's sister turned back to Valerie. "Danny's right, anyway. You can't know you're going nuts. Is it possible you just had a long, complex dream and now you've mistaken it for reality?"

Valerie smiled. "That must be it. I'm not crazy. The half-ghost thing was a bit extreme, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Danny and Jazz replied in unison, with Danny giving off a fidgety laugh.

Danny leaned in to his sister's ear just before Valerie got out the door. "I'll tell you what I learned from Clockwork later."

Raising an eyebrow, but opting not to pursue it at the moment, Valerie left the house wondering.

Who or what's Clockwork and what did Danny learn from him/it?