Disclaimer: Don't own DP.

Thanks to cookieplzandthnx, Above the Winter Moonlight, Zanza Flux, Invader Johnny, starwater09, Crystalmoon39, ZoneRobotnik, Xand'r Coldhearted, MsFrizzle, and Zighana for reviewing!

Shot 16 Summary: Dan may not be thankful for many things, but he can certainly appreciate Valerie's wardrobe malfunctions. Rating: T, Genre: Humor/Romance

I was going to upload this during Thanksgiving week, but life happened. Sorry about that wait!


Deliverance

Shot 16: Intermission: Wardrobe Malfunctions


By the time Valerie turned sixteen years old, she had become the foremost expert for kicking Phantom's butt. Amity Park relied on her to fight him off while they finished constructing the most advanced ghost Shield known to man. This meant that she often spent most of her day trying to deter Phantom from disrupting construction. It was becoming a harder and harder task—he'd grown in both power and body the last few years. He now far outmatched her in brute strength.

And that day, they were at it again, far out in the Wastelands where the young Red Huntress had chased him.

Phantom's body twisted around Valerie's spiraling blasts, and he laughed. "Gonna have to do better than that!" he called at her, racing over the Wastelands at top speed.

Valerie was only seconds behind him, pushing her jet sled to its limit. "Trust me," she snarled under her breath, "I can." She leveled her grenade launcher at him.

In his overconfidence, the sixteen-year-old ghost failed to avoid a blast that caught him in the shoulder blade and sent him careening off course. "Next time's your face!" Valerie promised triumphantly, reloading a new clip into her weapon. She kicked on the afterburners on her jet sled in an attempt to catch up.

Dan snarled in annoyance. He quickly tried to right himself, and he swooped back up into the sky, his shoulder aching from the power of Valerie's weapon. She'd recalibrated them again to match his power. Something about her adaptability spurned him with respect and irritation. So instead of simply allowing her to chase him, he flew back around and stormed straight for her in a blur.

"How about you stop hiding behind your guns?" he hissed. Before Valerie could move, his hand clamped down on her weapon, and he wrenched it away, toppling Valerie off of her jet sled. She moved into an instinctive roll, preparing her body to somersault to the ground.

But then something happened as she curled in on herself. Buttons that fastened the front of her old suit popped off. Multiple seams ripped.

Valerie froze in total horror, which threw off her tumble. She slammed into the ground at an awkward angle. Clouds of dust and dirt raised around her from the impact.

From a short distance away, Dan laughed, completely oblivious to what had actually happened. "How graceful!" he sneered at her as he flew closer. The dust had begun to settle around Valerie, who had yet to move. "For being a black belt, you've got horrible technique. Maybe you should do us both a favor and just—" His voice trailed off suddenly "—give…up…"

The dust had fully cleared and revealed the fallen Red Huntress. Valerie's battle suit had snapped at the buttons and the seams, the front torn open from the force of hitting the ground. Her breath was a shuddering, pained hitch, which made the ripped material stretch and slink off of her more.

Dan's eyes widened. His grip on Valerie's grenade launcher slipped, and it clattered to the ground, forgotten.

And perhaps he was a ghost, but Dan was nothing if not distinctly male. Several sections of Dan's brain began to shut down. His jaw dropped as he drank in the sight of the white bra beneath Valerie's suit and the dark skin of her cleavage and smooth, flat stomach—shadows and curves that were entirely, unmistakable female. One of her suit's side seams had ripped as well, storming down her waist to expose the full swell of her hips.

Dan swallowed hard, eyes darkening in a desire he had not felt in years.

For several seconds, Valerie did not move but simply tried to catch her breath. Falling from several feet in the air had knocked the wind out of her. Her teal eyes were sightless, her limbs like dead weights.

Then, slowly, her brain recalibrated from the fall. She groaned, completely disoriented. She tentatively raised an arm, and then she realized that the cloth material had ripped at the elbow….and up. As a matter of fact, she could feel a lot of wind. Everywhere.

Valerie squeaked, eyes widening. She haphazardly grabbed onto the button-less front flap of her suit and pressed it against her chest, face flaming red as she sat up. She tried to stand, but it was shaky with fear and embarrassment, along with pain from falling. Her fingers desperately grabbed for a small blaster holstered on her thigh.

When she levelled the weapon at Dan, she realized he looked almost just as flustered and shocked as she did. But then he quickly recovered, and a triumphant little smirk tilted his lips. He eyed her up and down in unashamed appreciation. "Wow, Valerie. I knew you were well-endowed, but…"

Frustrated tears welled up in Valerie's eyes. She raised her blaster with one hand while trying to cover herself with the other. "Stay back!" Between her life or her modesty, life was more important. But that didn't mean she'd give up the other if she didn't have to.

Dan laughed at her, mirth shaking the powerful lines of his shoulders. "This is wonderful. Please tell me you've programmed your suit to do that all the time."

"Shut up," she snapped. "I didn't."

He picked at the sleeve of his suit, which was an inversion of colors from what his old one had been. It far better fit the outline of his ever-hardening body. "Your suit's been tight for a while. You should consider getting a new one too."

Valerie's face was pained. "They're working on it," she said. She'd been struggling to wiggle into her old suit and button the front. Her new battle suit, designed for her more adult body, was still no more than halfway complete. She had no choice but to try fighting without it.

He waggled his eyebrows. "Aww, is little Valerie growing up too?" His smile stretched too wide. "Getting bigger in all the right places?"

She gave him the dirtiest look she could. "You stay away," she said. A very real fear overcame her that tightened every line in her body. After their few years of him rudely flirting and trying to grab for her, she knew that Dan was probably not above taking advantage of her. Her tears of frustration turned to tears of fear. "Don't you dare come near me."

The same thought crossed both of their minds. For a time, Dan's red eyes seemed to glow with dark temptation, and he licked his lips. "Why not?" he challenged, voice dropping to a huskier register. His voice had already dropped in tone from simply growing up; now it sounded nearly demonic, vibrating into the ground beneath her feet. He stepped forward, and she stepped back, shaking. "You just reminded me how long it's been since I… indulged some basic instincts."

Images of one Samantha Manson rose in his mind—but she'd always been a stick. The Valerie before him was a real woman, with real curves to get lost in.

He could feel Valerie's fear heighten to almost tangible levels.

Her fingers hooked harder into the material she was trying to keep together over her chest. "D-don't," she demanded, voice wavering. Showing fear was almost always a death wish with Phantom. Her breath hitched strangely, and for the first time, she was truly afraid of him and what he would do to her.

But Dan simply stood before her. He seemed to measure her up for a second. Then he rolled his eyes and sighed, restraining the desire that tightened the lines of his body. "Oh, Valerie," he said in teasing disappointment. "You're no fun when you're compromised. You lose your imagination and then accuse me of being something less than a superior being."

She blinked, afraid to move or say anything to tip the scales against her.

With a swift, decisive movement, he unclipped his black cape from his collar. Its heavy weight floated from his hand, and he lightly held it out to her. "Here," he said.

Valerie stared at the offered cloak as if it were a mystery of life. "…What?"

"Take it," he demanded, still staring at her body without shame. "I can't see you as simply an opponent if you're half-dressed. It's very distracting."

Her jaw dropped a bit, and she stared at him dumbly.

He dangled the cape a little harder before her. "I'm not going to hold this out all day," he said, irritated.

Valerie hesitated for only a second. Then she quickly snatched the cape from his grasp and backpedaled away, wrapping herself with it like some shipwrecked refugee. It smelled like crisp snow and burning firewood, and it was just as alternatively cold and hot. In being so, the cape seemed to almost hiss and kiss against her skin—similar to Dan's general behavior toward her.

She found Dan's scent not unpleasant.

"I want that back, you know," he said, crossing his arms. "Temporary loan only, until you get clothes on. You'll leave my cape outside Tower 9 of the Shield for me to pick up later tonight."

Valerie paused, still a bit shocked. She wrapped herself in the cloak a bit tighter, in awe of its heavy softness and the way it moved like shadows about her. She'd never felt a material quite like this. She suddenly understood why Dan wore it.

"Why….why are you helping me like this?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

Dan raised a brow. "I have my reasons. Your attempts to fight me are vaguely entertaining, so I would hate to kill you just yet. And I don't want anyone else to see you, now that I know what you're hiding under there," he said, eyeing her form in appreciation and possessiveness. "I want to keep you all to myself."

"I'm so not yours," Valerie snapped, eyes firing daggers at him.

"You're sure hugging my cape pretty close," he commented, smile lopsided. "It is a part of me."

Valerie did not consider the concept that Dan's cloak was a natural extension of himself, and she froze, realizing that in some sick way, she'd wrapped herself with Dan. She nearly pulled it away from herself in disgust and fear. "Oh my god, you sick bastard!"

Words strangled in her mouth with too many emotions.

The powerful ghost simply laughed as Valerie tried to quickly adjust the cloak around her so it was less of a dress and more of a shield to block his view of her. "I promise it doesn't bite much," he said, amused at her struggle. "It's not actually sentient."

She paused for a second, eyes narrowed. "You're saying you can't…access it or anything?"

He nodded.

"You better be telling the truth," she said, fingers clenching the material in fear. "If this thing's watching me, then so help me I'll…"

Well, actually, she didn't know what she'd do. It was either get felt up by Dan's cape or fly back in total shame for everyone to see. She had few problems with telling the truth that her suit had ripped and that she had taken Dan's cloak to cover herself, but she really did not want everyone else (her father, stupid men like Dash, and stupid women like Paulina) to see the embarrassing reality of her ripped suit.

He smiled. "My cape doesn't tie into my senses. But that's a good idea for next time. I'll ready such a cape in case you have future…wardrobe malfunctions." He smiled something lazy and full of desire. "And then I'll be able to feel every inch of you, no matter how far you are from me."

"I will set your cape on fire," she promised vehemently, "so you'll feel every inch of that." Then she realized the implications of what he'd suggested, and she stuttered in anger and embarrassment, "And I'm never letting this happen again."

He raised a brow. "Oh no?" he said, a cheeky smile twisting his handsome face. "I'm not sure you can make that promise. We tend to get a little…physical sometimes. In close combat, things happen." A new thought hit him, and his smile widened in appreciation. "Or maybe you'll keep growing."

Valerie's face blushed, and she grumbled under her breath—most likely profanities.

And for a short time, the two enemies stood awkwardly, waiting for the other to make a move. Valerie did not know whether to punch Dan in the face or to thank him for not being entirely evil, and Dan did not know whether to keep teasing Valerie until she cried in anger again, or to let her go.

It was always so confusing when their epic battles were interrupted with events that made him…compromise. His face twitched in irritation.

"Now go away," Dan waved her off, "before I change my mind and take my cape back for the hell of it."

Valerie did not question him. She nodded and called her jet sled to her. Then she jumped on and quickly sped away back to Amity Park, clinging to Dan's cape like a lifeline.

Dan watched the tendrils of his cape melt about the curves of her frame. A darkly amused smile softened the sharp lines of his face. Oh, he was never going to let her live such bad fortune down. Reveling in her horror was much better than killing her at her weakest moments. And now he knew exactly how to spiral her into a stuttering, beautiful mess. Just for fun, of course.


Later that evening, Dan flew in invisible mode to Tower 9 of the Amity Park ghost Shield. For a short time, he worried that perhaps Valerie would never give back his cape. She did seem to be rather fond of it after she discovered it wasn't alive. Maybe she'd hold it against him or use it to make a voodoo doll.

But instead he found his cape neatly folded, a white note stuck inside. He picked it up off the ground and examined it. It didn't look like she'd cut any pieces out to make a voodoo doll, which was a good start. The fabric of the cape still smelled lightly of Valerie's scent—something of exotic flowers and warm sand. As Valerie was usually surrounded by metal and electricity, he'd forgotten at times that she was actually human and soft with appreciation for things other than death. It was jarring to see her as anything other than the Ghost Slayer—words like beautiful and desirable were not words he had associated with her until today.

He wanted to be bothered by the fact that he would smell her scent on his clothes for a day or so, but he was mostly bothered by the fact that her scent would disappear, leaving him alone with the scent of dying civilizations on the horizon.

What was this? Just hormones kicking in? Was he really not going to care that his manly and imposing cape smelled like flowers?

To distract himself from that dangerous line of thought, he unfolded the note, revealing Valerie's messy handwriting. Thanks, it read. It looked scrawled in a hurry, and the first letter drooped a bit, as if she'd hesitated.

"No," he murmured, genuine amusement rising from within as he thought back to Valerie's horrified expression and her attempt to shield his eyes from her very feminine body. He'd have to work to make her undone again, for more reasons than one. "Thank you."


A/N: This particular scenario is quickly referenced in a separate Dan/Valerie story of mine, Cancelling the Apocalypse. If you haven't yet checked that story out, please do! (Shameless plug, I know.) I couldn't resist actually writing this idea out since I first thought of it as a conversation piece in that story.

So, in direct conflict with the underlying morality of this storyline (which is that Dan respects certain boundaries between himself and Valerie), I'm working on an update to the Aftermath series (in which Dan respects absolutely nothing). I also need to upload a one-shot request and then an update to the Karma series. Maybe not necessarily in this exact order, haha.

Please review with your thoughts/comments, questions, or one-shot requests! Thanks!