Disclaimer: Don't own DP or Labyrinth (1986).
Hey, everyone! Thanks to Above the Winter Moonlight, lightshadow101, Cookieplzandthnx, starwater09, Invader Johnny, Crystalmoon39, Silverstone007, Xand'r Coldhearted, Brandie, Zanza Flux, and Dragonprincess for your thoughtful reviews!
This following one-shot is a request from Zanza Flux, which was inspired by the movie Labyrinth (1986), with David Bowie. This is my attempt to fulfill the request. Hope you like it!
Summary: Amity Park throws a luxurious gala in Valerie's honor for defeating Phantom…But is everything as it seems? Genre: Suspense/Romance. Rating: T.
Deliverance
Shot 12: Masquerade
Valerie's cold, sweating hands ran down the skin-tight material of her dress. She had faced monsters. She had faced the destruction of the entire world and walked away from the seething maw of death itself.
She could probably face this too.
Thirty minutes and counting to the official commemoration.
"Come on, Gray," she whispered to herself, running a shaky hand over her hair. Paulina had fixed it up for her into a cascade of curls swept back to one side. It was smooth, suave, and ornate. The Latino had told her the style was all the rage in the fashion world, now that they had a fashion world again.
Valerie had grimaced and told Paulina to shove it and that if no one liked her hair the way it was, then they could go jump off a cliff.
Paulina had argued for nearly an hour. It was going to be a huge party—a masquerade gala held in her honor by order of the Amity Park mayor. It was a cause for serious dress-up time.
"Come on, chica," Paulina had said, yanking her down into a chair. "Everybody's celebrating that Phantom's gone. It's gonna be big. Ball gowns and masks. If you show up like you don't care, it's gonna ruin the mood for everyone."
"But I don't care," Valerie said. "He's gone, so let's stop thinking about it and start rebuilding the rest of the world."
Paulina raised a brow. "You of all people should be happy to celebrate. You're like, Amity Park's greatest hero. You took him down. You deserve a little glory before it all fades out. Don't you?"
Valerie's nose scrunched, and she looked away to hide the strange sense of loss, and then accompanying shame, on her face. She didn't want to celebrate Phantom's demise. It'd been hard and painful—listening to him gasp laughs as he bled out, too paralyzed from a surrounding ring of Blood Blossoms to move. She had to watch the fear mist into his eyes as he realized he was truly fading out.
She'd broken the one deal she'd ever made with him, which was that they'd give each other honorable deaths. Phantom's death had been far from honorable. She'd fought dirty.
She squeezed her eyes shut. "Paulina, I just want to keep moving. I don't want to think about it."
"But that's the point!" Paulina fairly sang. "Since he's gone, we can rebuild spas and stop wearing fatigues and sleep in and—"
Now, Valerie nearly groaned, discretely readjusting the low neckline of her dress once more and eyeing the nearest party guests in fear that they would see. They didn't, too busy laughing in their groups and fawning over each other's masks. "I can't believe I let her talk me into this…"
Paulina had also given her a simple, red eye mask to wear along with the dress, and she felt horrifically out of place in such an outfit. But when she saw everyone else wearing one, it helped a miniscule amount to hide her discomfort. It was probably a good thing she didn't arrive dressed in her battle suit or military fatigues.
The Amity Park Masquerade Gala had pooled every remaining resource to celebrate Phantom's demise. The old city ballroom (established in the 1840s) was plush with shining, marble tiles, crystal chandeliers, and an elevated stage. An entire live symphony played classical music, which wafted in the air along with the smell of cakes and desserts. Supposedly, the symphony's violinist owned the last violin in the entire world. Valerie thought it was all a lie—legends to make the rise of humanity from the ashes of Phantom's wake all the more spectacular.
She didn't understand why it all bothered her so much. Maybe because everyone else could celebrate what she'd had to sacrifice and endure for. They could smile and laugh and play dress-up without feeling lost. They could carry on without feeling as if their entire purpose had ended.
Some of them even wore masks that depicted the ghosts the Resistance had defeated over the years. Ghosts she'd had to fight.
Everything, in return, felt dull and strange. She had tried to mingle and laugh. People cooed over her and bowed and shook her hand, complimenting her on her beauty and her outfit. But something held her back from truly enjoying it all.
She leaned against the windowsill and sighed as she watched her father from afar. Damon Gray meandered on the platform stage in the great hall. He was looking over the electrical cords, his black mask held in his hand. His speech would be in a half-hour for the official commemoration of Phantom's demise and Valerie's victory. Despite his spine bending from ten years of total oppression, his face shined with unmatched, fatherly pride. It hurt to see him look that way. She tried not to think about it, that he would be proud of her for killing someone—even Phantom—in the way she had.
The thought twisted her face into a grimace, and she wrung her hands, swallowing hard at the onslaught of traumatic memories. Years ago, she had breathed for the day that Phantom would die at her hand. And now…
No—it was good he was gone. He had deserved the way he'd ended. All of his final, rasping breaths were like the bells of freedom, and she honestly would never think about him again or the way she'd vomited up the contents of stomach after it was all over.
Right?
Right, she told herself, biting her lip. The small moments where he had teased her, shown some spark of humanity that made her hesitate pulling the trigger for the last time—those were too few and far between for her to question her judgment.
She hadn't killed a real person. Just a ghost. It didn't really matter how she'd done it. He was just a ghost.
"…You know, for the Guest of Honor, you sure enjoy being a wallflower."
Valerie flinched, eyes widening beneath her mask. "What the hell?" she gasped, her voice straining against her whisper. She didn't want to cause massive panic in a crowded area. She resituated her weight to drop-kick the owner of the voice with her stiletto, fully prepared to use it as a weapon if needed.
She knew that voice. Holy shit. She knew that voice.
She pushed her red mask up with shaking fingertips so that she could see better, utterly convinced she was hallucinating.
There in the shadows, the supposedly-destroyed Dan Phantom leaned against the wall, arms crossed. A silver mask was pushed up over his forehead, pulling his fire hair back and reflecting the light of the tendrils like stars.
And he looked entirely, brilliantly whole, almost human without his jumpsuit. He wore long, black pants, a white shirt, and a blood-red vest. It oddly matched the color of her mask and dress, and she tried hard to not think about that.
Her jaw dropped. "What the—how are you here? Why are you here?"
"I came to celebrate my demise," he said lightly. "Since you tried so hard."
He still did not quite look sane or morally enlightened, but a new awareness glinted in his eyes and relaxed his face. He looked almost happy, especially as his red eyes trailed down the plunging neckline of her dress and high slit on the skirt, eyebrow raised. "You sure dressed for the occasion."
She flushed under the attention, turning away. "Yeah, it wasn't my idea," she muttered, but her mind was racing. After ten years of fighting him, she knew she had a little over sixty seconds to find a weapon. He would not attack her until he got his daily banter in.
Fifty-five seconds.
"Oh, I'm not here to fight you or disrupt the insects dancing," he said in amusement as he watched her. "I'm here to congratulate you. Truly. From the bottom of my nonexistent, black heart that you so kindly reminded me I have."
"I'll believe it when I see it." Her snarl hid her fear as she began to move away, looking for something sharp, something hard.
"What, see my heart?" He put a hand over his chest and smiled darkly. "I'm pretty sure you've already seen it, haven't you?"
She inhaled sharply, trying to fight off the memory of his skin melting off his bones, his chest cracked open…
He tilted his head at how unsettled Valerie was before him. "Unless of course you meant my sincerity regarding my congratulations." His lips curled up. He bowed before her in an extravagant display of Victorian etiquette, arm sweeping out. "Valerie Gray, I do congratulate you for slaying the monster we all so feared."
She looked around wildly. Why the hell was no one panicking? Did no one hear him? Was he really just some kind of hallucination?
Oh my God. Maybe I've gone fucking insane. I've finally done it. I've lost my mind.
She swallowed hard as she stepped forward. Only one way to find out for sure.
As he straightened with a self-satisfied smirk, Valerie raised her hand, eyes hesitant. "You can't be real," she said. And she touched his face, her fingertips running down the solid, cool skin of his cheek.
He closed his eyes at her touch and hummed merrily, "Aww, I missed you too."
Her fingers paused. "You're real," she breathed, eyes widening in awe. "Holy shit, you're really real."
He grabbed her hand, covering it with his. Their callouses grated against each other with friction. "Of course I'm real."
Then his grip tightened, and Valerie realized her mistake. Cold power stormed through her like a chill. Dan smiled darkly. "Now let's dance."
Panic set in.
"Let go of me," she demanded. She tried to jerk out of his grip, but for all of his near-destruction, he was still very strong. Her voice raised to a sharp clip. "I said, let me go!"
"I wouldn't bother screaming," he said merrily. "We're invisible and intangible now—no one's going to hear you. Isn't that great?"
"You let me go," she hissed, eyes dark with fear and anger, "or you're gonna get drop-kicked in the face with my stiletto."
"Shh with the fuss, dear." His large hand nearly crushed hers. His other hand came to rest heavily on the small of her back, and she inhaled sharply. "It's ruining the moment."
"Fuck you." She gritted her teeth, trying to think of ways to escape him that would not immediately result in a destructive meltdown of anger. If she angered him too much, he would injure all of the humans he was currently ignoring.
"I just wanna dance," he sighed. His lips lifted in a wretched smile. "I'm tired and still regenerating from that last fight. All I want is a little fun."
He began to spin them around the ballroom, their invisible and intangible bodies sweeping through various party guests who were none the wiser. The guests laughed and guffawed at each other's jokes, their various masks shining in the low light. From this perspective, it made the humans look like ghosts—unearthly creatures with no greater awareness than their own happiness. Valerie gripped Dan's hand tighter out of instinct, half-afraid that she'd be stuck in someone else's body if she let go.
Some part of her held onto Dan tighter in pure shock that she was simply dancing with him. That he was leading. That she was allowing him to lead. It was easy to follow his dance, as she was a horrible dancer and Phantom was actually quite good.
She narrowed her eyes, weary. "What are you planning?" she demanded. "Is this all some kind of joke?"
He looked almost hurt. "I just wanted to congratulate you," he said. "You're the only person who has ever almost destroyed me. I felt that a handwritten letter just…wouldn't be enough." That damnable smile again began to rise on his face. "I wanted to do it in person."
"And how are you still here?" she whispered harshly. "You were gone. You faded out. I watched it."
His red eyes flickered in amusement. "I have amazing willpower," he said. "For a couple of days, I couldn't manifest a body, but I held on. For a bit, I thought you had really exorcised me out."
She huffed, red lips curling down. "Don't think I won't destroy you once and for all. I don't know how you managed to regenerate, but I'll make sure you never do again."
The problem with all of this was that a certain level of ease existed between them after ten years of combat and insults. She felt more comfortable shooting insults and bullets at Dan than she did dancing in a dress or laughing with strangers. Now that she was over the initial shock of his continued existence, she was almost relieved that Dan was floating before her, her hands solidly gripped in his.
She still had meaning. She still had value—something to fight for.
His fingers twitched on the small of her back, tracing an old, faded scar from several years ago. Her skin goose bumped as she stiffened, eyes widening. "I think you'd miss me too much if I were gone forever," he teased. "Don't think I haven't noticed how purposeless you move without me."
"I'm not purposeless without you," she snarled. "And get that damn hand up before I break your arm."
His fingers stopped caressing her skin, instead pressing into her spine, pushing her closer to him. "To be fair," he said honestly, "I think it's mutual. That fight was the most alive I have ever felt. In my whole afterlife—you really made me feel again. It's all I can think about now."
He looked almost reminiscent as he obsessed over her strategy. "The best part," he added in rising enthusiasm, "was that I believed you when we agreed to give each other an honorable death. I didn't think you had it in you to do otherwise." He was grinning ear to ear, genuinely delighted. "Instead, you did exactly what I would have done. You monster, you."
The entire time as they floated in a dance across the ballroom, Dan discreetly pulled Valerie closer and closer, his body nearly flush against hers. Valerie hardly noticed until she was but inches away, staring up at his face as he looked down at her.
"You," he whispered, nearly nose to nose with her, "are truly my equal in every way. I finally realized that your will is as great as mine."
Her nose scrunched. "My will is greater than yours," she shot back. "I have something called self-control."
"You're as vindictive and vengeful as me."
"I have to protect people from you, ghost. I'm not just gonna sit and wait for you to show up."
"You fight dirty like me."
"You freakin' destroyed half the planet. Don't talk to me about dirty."
He complained light-heartedly, "You even have to dominate in conversation, which is both exhausting and invigorating, and I'm not sure yet if it makes me want to kiss or kill you."
"Fuck you. You try either of those things, and you're gonna get your ass kicked."
"But it was a brilliant chess game," he argued, mind reverted back to his near-destruction. "I can't even get mad about it. If I think about it, I smile, and I haven't smiled in a long time. I've never felt so dominated in my whole afterlife."
His cool breath billowed against her lips. "I'm thinking I should let you win more often, if only for the high it gave me."
"You don't have to let me win," she retaliated. "I'll win no matter how hard you try to stop me."
"So dominating," he hummed, lips twitching up. "So commanding." His hand on the small of her back began to move up her spine to the back of her neck, fingers twisting into her curls. He leaned in and whispered against her lips, "I like that."
Suddenly, Valerie realized just how close they were, just how hypnotic Dan's eyes could be when they were burning with real emotion—desire. She had a horrible fear that he would try to kiss her and that she would let him.
With all of her strength, she shoved away from him. The second his hands slipped from her body, she suddenly fell through dimensions back to the human plane, stumbling back into a group of party guests who laughed and assumed she was drunk.
The force with which she pushed Dan stumbled him back as well, pulling on still-healing wounds beneath his shirt that made him wince. His concentration broke. He materialized onto the human plane, fully visible and solid within the large crowd.
Valerie's eyes widened, as did his. They froze in the lights and among the many gazes, curious eyes staring at them from behind masks.
No one said anything. Or noticed. Actually, everyone was quite content to see Valerie the Ghost Slayer standing opposite the very bane of her existence, the supposedly-destroyed Phantom—in the middle of a gala to celebrate his demise. A few of them even waved.
Dan's eyes narrowed. "What the…"
Valerie stared in shock. "They see us, but they're—not freaking out?"
For a moment, neither of them moved in either awe or shock. The crowds cheered and twirled around them, carrying on without questioning the sight before them.
"Something's wrong," Dan breathed. The gears in his head began to turn, and they tightened his face with a strange worry. "This isn't right."
"Damn straight," Valerie agreed, sculpted eyebrows raised up. She chanced a look at Dan, debating between tackling him while she had the chance or running out to find a weapon.
Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him in the eyes. "Quick, what's the last thing you remember?"
"…What?"
"I mean, how did you get here?" he demanded softly, worried for both himself and her. "Where were you before you walked through the front doors?"
"Easy," she retorted. "I was…" Her mind blanked, and her expression faulted. "Uh, I was…"
She could remember the fuzzy memory of standing before a mirror at Paulina's. Then nothing but the immediate awe upon entering the ballroom. Terror began to seep into her stomach, and her eyes widened. "I don't remember," she admitted. "Shit, I really can't remember anything. Can you?"
He shook his head, lips pressed together tightly. He grabbed her hand and began weaving them through the crowd. The party guests—where they really there?—laughed and shoved around them, blocking them from any exit door.
Dan growled and raised his hand. Hiding a wince, he shot searing, red light into the crowd, and a few people cried out, dive-bombing out of the way.
Valerie grabbed his arm and wrenched it back. "Don't do that!" she hissed, staring in worry at the fallen people. But she noticed that the air around them seemed to twist.
Next thing she knew, they were walking again among crowds who were dancing and laughing, as if nothing had just happened.
"They're not real," Dan huffed, shoving their way through. "Don't you get it? Someone's playing with us. None of this is real. The fight wasn't real. This party isn't real."
She stared at the spot where the fallen party guests had once stood and realized he was speaking truth. Even her father, off in the distance, was still simply whistling along the stage, holding his papers and not even questioning reality. "Oh my god," she whispered, a cold feeling storming down her spine. Valerie kicked off her heels in a hurry. Stilettos would get in her way if she had to run. "You're shitting me, right? What the hell? Is a ghost doing this?"
Dan grimaced in irritation, ire growing at the fact that he'd been deceived by a lie. "Probably Nocturne, that bastard. Don't worry—he won't exist for long once we get out of here."
They finally made it through the crowds to the exit. He shoved the wide, mahogany doors opened, and the two peered out in caution. Beyond the building, there was nothing. The entire universe dropped off into a void of darkness.
"Holy—" Valerie's voice cut off as she stared into the abyss. She didn't want to admit that she gripped Dan's hand tighter at the sight, as if to stabilize her in the midst of total nothingness. It went on forever, or it stopped right at the tips of their noses. No floor extended out beneath them.
Dan was just as disturbed as her. He gripped her hand back.
Valerie bit her lip. "Look, look. If we're both stuck in a dream—right?—then we just have to wake up. We have to do something that'd get our real bodies to come out of it. Like…" She hesitantly tilted her chin towards the darkness, "…jump?"
Dan stared into the abyss and saw himself reflected. It disturbed him, and he looked away. "No," he said. "Not that." He closed the door shut again and peered out at the crowds. The sound of a violin was straining high against the rafters, pulling all the party guests into twisting spirals of a dance. Their masks flashed in the light.
Valerie put a hand on her hip. "Well, what can we do? It's not like we got a lot of options here, and I can't stay. If this Nocturne guy put us both in a dream, then he's pulling some serious shit on the Human world. That I want to stop, right now."
Some kind of awareness overcame Dan, and a mischievous line stormed through his body. It almost out-weighed his irritation. He turned to her, the irises of his red eyes dark with a desire that made her swallow hard. "I think," he breathed, "I know what would shock us enough."
And without further warning, he leaned down and planted his lips on hers.
Valerie shot up, electrodes on her mind and body snapping off from the force of her shock. The technology slunk to the ground with lifeless cables, and she nearly fell back in dizziness.
Her lips tingled.
For one wild moment, she could still feel Phantom's cool body against her own, his lips caressing hers. Then she blinked, and the dream fully dissipated and opened her back to reality.
"What the—" She looked around in total consternation. She was on a hard, floating rock. She was in the Ghost Zone (she hadn't actually traversed to the Zone in years). The entire dimension spanned far above her head in a swirling abyss of timeless energy.
Sitting cross-legged beside her was her old enemy, Dan Phantom.
They looked at each other, suddenly in fear, then at the connecting wires between his helmet and hers. They had shared the same dream. It had been real for both of them.
Valerie swallowed hard, wondering who would make the first move. All of her weapons were gone from her belt, as was her jet sled. She would have to get really creative if Phantom decided to attack now.
Phantom, however, seemed entirely engrossed with other problems. "This is the workings of Nocturne," he affirmed, holding the pieces of the controlling device in his hands. Shock and fear and awe all combined in his face, transforming his usually sly and psychotic expression into one strangely human. "That dirty, rotten…" His fangs gnashed against his lip. He looked excessively disturbed. "Can't even fight me face to face."
"Too embarrassed about getting beat in your own dream?" Valerie shot back, looking around to ensure that no more electrodes were attached to her body.
Some kind of discomfort crossed Dan's face as he ran a hand through his flickering hair. He looked shaken. His mind was replaying the demise the dream had given him. His nerves were burning with the feel of Valerie's skin and lips.
The desire he'd felt for her in the dream still felt real, and the force of it was strong enough for him to not even rise to her challenge. He stared at her, irises strained with a strange want. "You danced with me," he said. He tilted his head, flickering hair flaming about his shoulders. The dream helmet had snapped the tie holding his hair back, and the weight of the strands tumbled his hair down to his shoulders as he leaned forward, the filaments flickering. "You danced with me," he repeated, lips tilting in a lop-sided smirk.
She huffed to hide her uncertainty and embarrassment. "And you kissed me," she said, eyes wide. She tried to make her voice sound disgusted, but it strangled. "What the hell?"
"All in a day's work," he said. "It was either that or shooting you." He leaned forward, as if to divulge a secret. "I liked the first choice much better. Especially since you were wearing such a nice dress."
"I think I'd prefer being shot," she deadpanned, leaning back. She twisted and pulled herself up into a standing position. She brushed the dust off of her and eyed him wearily, as if daring him to attack her. "How long do you think we've been here?"
He stood as well, allowing the broken dream helmet to fall to the ground. It cracked into dust. "Dream time's different," he said. "Could have been hours. Could have been days."
Her eyes widened. "Days?"
Dan looked around at the abandoned Zone and grimaced. "Let's hope not. If I discover he's replaced my empire with dancing bears, I'm going to be very, very angry. We need to find him. Now."
"Whoa, whoa. We?" Valerie demanded, raising a brow. "What makes you think I'm gonna spend any more time with you than I have to?"
"You're missing your jet sled," he said. He wiggled his eyebrows. "You're stuck here without me."
"Please, I'll row this rock back if I have to. I don't want your help." She began to look around for materials, for a scope of her location. She could probably even float down to floor of the Ghost Zone and run till she found a portal.
"Oh, I think you need my help, Valerie," his lips raised up in amusement. "This Zone is a labyrinth. You'll be stuck here forever. Not that my world conquest plans wouldn't mind that, but I would find it terribly boring without you."
Valerie paused.
Phantom held his hand out to her with a sigh. "I'll agree to a truce," he said hesitantly. "For now. Just until Nocturne is gone for good."
She eyed his hand with suspicion before she realized that she had no choice. This all felt very familiar—almost like old days, when Phantom was still green-eyed and bushy-tailed, and she wasn't quite so jaded against him. "Truce," she nodded hard, shaking his hand with a firm grip.
He smiled.
Then his steel arm locked around her waist, his fingers grabbing into her side. The sensation was not entirely unpleasant, perhaps even reminiscent of the way he'd nearly cradled her in the dance of the dream.
"Hold on," he told her.
Valerie hesitantly placed one of her arms around his waist. His steel muscles were cold. This was one of the first times she had ever willingly touched him.
Her hesitancy made him smirk, and she snarled at him in defensive fear. "Don't get used to this."
"Oh, but I could. Especially if you keep holding onto me like that."
Then they stormed up, their bickering echoing across the dimension.
A/N: So this is my response to a request from Zanza Flux, who wanted to see Dan and Valerie dance in a dream, per a scene from the 1986 movie Labyrinth. I've been trying to get to this request, because it's been sitting in my message box since July. I hope you enjoyed! It had some dark tones in it, but I think we could classify this as a happier one-shot.
I believe I've received a few other requests from people, so I hope to start publishing those soon too.
If you have time, please leave your thoughts in a review. I also take requests!
