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Miniseries Summary: Dan's Secret VALentine Plans (Part Three): Dan uses a familiar human appearance to "spend more time" with Valerie, and to keep her safe from her stalker. Chaos and adult-type touching ensues. Rating: T, Genre: Romance/humor
Deliverance
Shot 22: Dan's Secret VALentine Plans Part 3
Now that Valerie had properly asserted herself as D's girlfriend, and since D had brushed aside all flirtations from anyone but Valerie, the resistance decided Valerie and D were officially a couple. No one bothered the mysterious and handsome D again but for a few women who still stared longingly at him from a distance.
The two of them were now walking deeper into the resistance building. Dan huffed, nose scrunched, as he tried to retie his hair with the band that Valerie had so mischievously pulled out. "Dammit," he grumbled. "I had this perfect before you ruined it."
Valerie had retracted her battle suit, but her jaw set as she quirked a sculpted brow at him. Two could play at this kind of fight. "You weren't complaining before."
He finally managed to tie his black hair back, but some of the strands were still loose, and he face-faulted when they fell right back down his cheeks. Damn his non-floating hair and this whole fake-human skin. "We were in the middle of an important discussion that distracted me," he said, voice full of strange patterns. He tilted his eyes towards her, every line of his body still strained with desire. "A discussion I should like to have again."
She perhaps walked faster, her face blushing. "You wish." Even though her first kiss had mostly been for show to ward off other women and stake claim on Dan, it'd turned into something far beyond her control. The desire behind that kiss had been as real as the race of her heartbeat and the gasp of his breath against her lips. A large part of her wanted it to happen again, but the important thing was to not let Phantom know just how much she wanted him back, because that was dangerous. Whoever held the least emotional attachment would have the most power in this new chess game. Valerie wanted to make sure she kept the power.
"Now why would you not want a repeat discussion?" he demanded darkly. His deep baritone voice was still husked in a way that made Valerie's spine tingle. "You can't forget a kiss like that."
"I can't forget a lot of things," she retorted, raising her chin. "Like the fact that you're a psychotic maniac out to take over the world."
"…So?"
"So," she huffed, "that kinda ruins the mood when I think about it."
"You weren't thinking about my death count earlier," he said, frustration growing. A vindictive tone bled into his voice. "You were weak-kneed for me. You were practically begging for me to take you, right in the middle of the hallway."
The concept that Dan Phantom was a guilty pleasure left Valerie feeling caged. She said harshly, "And you weren't needy too? We both liked it, and you know it. Doesn't make it right."
He laughed. "'Doesn't make it right?' You know better than to waste your time preaching to me about ethics." But he had full confidence that he could wear Valerie down into kissing him again and forgetting about his day job as the Ravager of Worlds. Which, to be honest, he kind of forgot about as well while kissing her.
He wove his fingers into hers, grabbing tight. "Now tell me where we're going."
She tentatively tightened her fingers around his cool hand. This was all part of their image as a couple to deter Nathan. Right. "I'm grabbing some brunch cause somebody made me skip breakfast and then burn off my reserves. I'm freakin' starving."
With all of the panic around Jasper city, and with Dan's curious invasion of her life, she'd hardly realized that hours had passed since she'd first awoken.
"Oh, how unfortunate that you always have to fight that devilish Phantom character," Dan mocked. "My heart bleeds. Perhaps if you simply bowed before his might and became his slave, you would not miss important feeding times."
Valerie's eye twitched. "Excuse me?"
"Enslavement is considered such a bad thing in the eye of modern human morality," he said. "But really, I think you'd enjoy it—"
She indiscreetly wrenched his hand hard, and he flinched at the sudden wave of pain that accompanied a pop in his bones. A small gasp escaped his lips as he snatched his hand away, stopping dead in his tracks. He stared at her in surprise, and his blue eyes nearly bled red.
Perhaps she'd only snapped a tendon, but it hurt. "What was that for?" he hissed.
Valerie just smiled sweetly at him as she cooed, "Aww, did I accidentally bump your sprained wrist? Baby, you should be more careful when you choose your battles." She raised his rapidly healing wrist to her lips and kissed it, eyes flashing in warning. "You might get hurt."
He looked truly surprised that Valerie would take such advantage over his fallen guard. His face twitched between great irritation and amusement at her hidden message. "You bitch. After all that I do for you, and this is how you repay me?"
She dropped his hand, which had already healed the snapped tendon. "I don't bow before anyone for any reason, so get that idea out of your head right now," she said, voice hard. "And don't pretend to be a saint on my behalf. Because you're not."
He rubbed his wrist, eyeing her with a bit more caution. Only Valerie would dare to risk his fury in such a way. A dark, pleased smile stretched across his face. "Is this you playing hard to get?" he asked suddenly.
Valerie rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not playing 'hard to get.' This is a friendly warning that if you ever try to enslave me or tell me what to do, I will destroy you. Good kiss or not."
The disguised ghost looked disgruntled, but he supposed it was fair. He could not expect Valerie to completely give way beneath his desires just yet. "Perhaps I may not get you to bow as my slave, but…" His blue eyes grew dark, a teasing smile on his lips. "I can think of other enjoyable positions to bend you into."
She huffed, eyes wide. "What the—? Jesus, does everything have to be a sex pun to you?!"
"You know you love it." He waved before her. "My dear Watson, puns are considered the highest form of intelligent humor. Get with the program."
"There is nothing intelligent about you. And stop calling me Watson. That's, like, the fifteenth time this month."
He pouted, eyes flashing with displeasure. "But I need a Watson to my Sherlock. In case you haven't noticed, you're the only one who actively attempts to unravel my genius schemes."
The conversation began to irritate her, as Valerie despised Phantom's interest in literary references and classic books. It meant she had to read them too to keep up with him. She complained, "That takes the metaphor out of context. We're not partners, and you're not a good-guy crack addict solving crimes to help people."
"We could be partners, you know."
"No, we couldn't."
He huffed. "You just said you refused to bow to me as a slave. I offer you a more appropriate title as an equal partner learning under my genius, and you spurn that too." He leaned towards her personal space, narrowing his eyes. "In case you forgot, we did swap spit in a quite pleasing fashion. That constitutes as a sort of partnership."
She blushed at the reminder, and her tongue stalled in her mouth with no further retort. Then she stomped forward in a wordless huff, her entire body tingling at the memory of the kisses they had shared.
It had certainly been a mutual experience.
Dan hid an evil smirk as he watched her concede defeat. His favorite pastime, even above killing people, was mentally trumping Valerie. He trailed after her, confidence oozing off the lines of his shoulders. "What," he called out, "no comeback?"
She turned the corner and said over her shoulder, "I'll think of a comeback after I get some brain food. Give me three minutes."
The hall opened up into a large atrium with several food lines, food workers, and the smell of breakfast. The cooks had prepared army-quantities of eggs and bacon, and they looked to be dishing up some kind of soup as well. Considering the pact Dan had made with Valerie, she imagined that he could stand by for a short time without her.
She halfway expected him to laugh at her human weakness—that she did not have unlimited energy and that she had to eat food to survive and think. But Dan appeared distantly interested by the food that he saw. Only a few seconds after she turned away, he began to follow after her, not unlike a dog, curiously sniffing the air.
The Red Huntress grabbed a lunch tray as she approached the cook line, but a flash of something dark to her side made her look up and flinch in surprise. Dan was suddenly standing right next to her, pondering at the lunch tray stack.
"…What are you doing?" she asked bluntly, eyes wide.
He grabbed the tray he believed to be the least contaminated. "I'm joining you for brunch."
She said, confused, "But you don't even eat food."
"Appearances, Valerie," he chided lightly, bumping against her as he set his lunch tray beside hers to stand in line. "I must maintain my illusion."
The feeling of his arm brushing against hers was enough to make her heart beat faster, and she looked away, caught between feeling awkward and bumping him back out of her natural instincts to retaliate. If he stood by her side the entire day, it would make it much harder to ignore the tension between them and her own temptation to kiss the infamous Dan Phantom again—this time with no more motivation behind it than her own desire.
"Hello, dear," an older woman dressed in a cooking apron walked up from the other side of the line to serve her.
Valerie shook out of her thoughts and smiled back, thankful for the distraction. "Hey, Margie."
The older woman loaded extra eggs and bacon onto a plate for her and said, "I heard Phantom killed twenty in Jasper. Reports say he would have killed more if you hadn't shown up so fast." She pointed her eyes. "You okay? Did you get hurt at all?"
Valerie blinked. "No, I'm fine." She looked over nervously at Dan, who stared back, as if curiously awaiting her response as well. The weight of twenty deaths seemed to bridge between them, reminding her that "D" was not at all a hero. "He, uh…didn't hurt me this time."
Margie, the cook, looked greatly relieved. "You risk so much, dear. Are you eating enough? Sleeping enough? Nathan leaving you alone yet?"
"I'm fine," Valerie said again, beginning to feel self-conscious and worried about the reference to Nathan, especially in the presence of Dan, who still seemed likely to try killing Nathan. God, why was everyone so candid about her problems today? "Uh," she tried to distract the cook, "can I have some of that soup you're putting out? Looks good."
"Certainly, dear." The nosey woman began to dish some of the potato soup into a bowl, and she placed it on Valerie's tray. Then she looked over at Dan for the first time, and a happier smile overcame her. "And is this stranger your secret boyfriend we've heard so much about?"
Valerie blushed, eyes widening a bit. "Um…"
"My, what a handsome young man!" Margie breathed. She loaded on scoop after scoop of eggs onto his plate, somewhat star-struck. "Just look at him! Ain't he a looker?"
Dan cast a signature smile at the cook. "You're too kind," he said, his deep voice smooth with something that suggested he was playing along for Valerie's own mortification.
The old cook cooed, "It's so nice to see a fresh face." She leaned in and winked. "And I hear you're protecting her from unwanted affections, huh?"
"Oh my god," Valerie muttered, pulling away to find a table. She did not want to hear an old woman coo over Dan and praise him for beating someone up. It was a whole new level of disturbing.
Dan simply soaked in the attention, calculating the worth of the woman as an informant. With Valerie gone, it was possible he could gleam more information from them. "I didn't know," he said carefully, "that Valerie had such troubles here."
The old woman leaned in. "I worry for her a lot, you know. That Nathan—" she cut herself off, then smiled painfully. She began to load a bowl of breakfast soup for him as well. "Well, I'm just glad you're tagging along with her today."
Dan frowned. "What have you seen Nathan do?"
She looked a bit worried. "He's just…getting worse, always tagging her down and not taking no for an answer. Our poor Valerie spends most of her life fighting off one crazy man, only to spend the rest of it fighting another."
Dan gracefully managed to stifle the sudden fury that whipped through him – How dare this decrepit insect compare me to a worm—I am not crazy—and he smiled to hide his eye-twitch. "Don't worry," he said through his gritted smile. "I intend to stop Nathan for good."
And then he turned away, digging his fingers into his plate with barely restrained anger. Something about the comparison, that Dan Phantom was crazy like Nathan, burned him. He was not crazy like Nathan. He and Valerie certainly had their disagreements regarding justice and the sanctity of life, but their relational issues were…different in comparison to the blight that was Nathan.
Right?
His mind thought back to how Valerie had grabbed onto his collar and forced him down to kiss him. That had to mean something. The way her heart had raced for him…the way her eyes dilated with a raw lust when he'd traced her hips… He had not forced her to kiss him, to open her mouth to his and grab hard onto his hair.
He looked at Valerie who had settled at a table towards the corner of the atrium and was readjusting her wild pony tail. She looked up, as if feeling his eyes. And though her face tightened with some kind of emotion, it was not a fear or hatred. Rather, her face reddened a bit as she…ran her eyes over him?
Was she checking him out as he walked?
His slight fear melted away into full confidence, and he nearly laughed. Though he knew himself to be quite contrary to human morality, he had enough evidence to conclude that Valerie wanted him regardless. He unashamedly met her gaze, then swept his eyes over her body to return the favor.
That blush of hers deepened, and yet she did not look away.
That had to mean something too.
As he walked up, he set his tray down and sat opposite of her. "You know," he said, "your choice of the far corner table suggests that either you wish to isolate me, or that you wish to isolate yourself. Or both."
"That would be the idea," she said dryly. "Can't have you causing chaos out in the open."
He could not argue with her logic, as he did enjoy chaos. With a sniff of superior distain, he sat down and puzzled over the experience of pretending to be human again. Being so…domesticated, if only for a while.
"This table has a flawed design," he declared suddenly, frowning. With hardly any force, he pushed against its side, and it wobbled, shaking the plates. "It's obviously cheap and inferior. The tiling might also be uneven."
Valerie rolled her eyes. She stabbed her fork into her eggs and began to eat. With a cheek full of food, she said in a muffled voice, "That happens on a budget."
"This seat is too hard."
"I'm pretty sure I've slammed you into buildings that were harder."
His nose scrunched. He stared at her plate, then his. He whined, "And your food looks better than mine."
She gave him an incredulous look. "It's the same damn thing."
"Yes, but you received one extra piece of bacon than I did. I feel challenged by this."
"…Oh my god, you are ridiculous," she moaned. "I don't get you. You don't even eat food. Why do you care?"
"Because I demand superiority and perfection in all things. And if I must make personal sacrifices for our mutual benefit, then I at least wish to do so in style." With a bit of hesitance, he picked up a bacon strip and eyed it, then tentatively bit down on the edge. He added slowly after another bite, "Though I suppose the taste isn't horrific." He actually looked rather pleased, and he settled into some kind of contentment, munching down with greater hunger. "Not bad."
Valerie looked relieved that she wouldn't have to endure further complaining. Dan complaining about anything usually gave her a headache.
The lines of Dan's body grew more relaxed as he began to truly enjoy his breakfast, and Valerie began to wonder if perhaps Dan had missed the simple pleasure of eating. If that were the case, she thought wryly, then it was no wonder he wanted to kill people all the time. She'd be pretty pissed too if she didn't eat.
But if food were the secret to taking down Dan Phantom, the Ravager of Worlds, then she was likely to either laugh or cry. She could almost imagine her dead mother tapping her nose and reminding her that she'd forgotten one life truth: The way to a man's heart was through his stomach.
As Valerie contemplated her mini-career crisis, Dan slurped on the breakfast potato soup. Its taste pleasantly surprised him, and he swallowed in delight, feeling the way the warmth ran down to his belly. Truly, this was a much better way of warming himself up than smoking.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Valerie eat, noting her lack of table manners with great interest until she grew self-conscious and set her fork down in a huff, one cheek still bulged with food. "What? You got a problem?" she said, voice muffled.
He smiled. "I occasionally forget that you're human and weak. Your sloppy eating habits are a pleasant reminder."
She blushed at the underhanded criticism, then stabbed her fork back into her eggs with more force. "Yeah? Well, if you want a pretty princess, go somewhere else."
"Do I look like someone who would tolerate a pretty princess?"
"You tolerated Paulina," she pointed out, a spark of subconscious jealousy coming over her. Paulina—the perfect hourglass woman with the perfect hair and perfect skin and the perfect table manners and—
"—That was business, not pleasure." His lips dropped into a frown. "Certainly not anything I'd like to do again. Her voice has a whine like that of a dying cat, and her intelligence quotient is nonexistent."
Valerie nearly choked on her eggs to hide the smile that wanted to stretch on her face. No man dared to criticize the perfection that was Paulina Sanchez. The fact that Dan was not at all interested in her lightened a strange load from her heart, even though she felt obligated to defend Paulina. "That is my friend you're insulting. And you still haven't told me yet what you talked about while I was gone."
He waved his spoon casually. "Mostly about you and how…concerned we both are for you."
She huffed, biting into a piece of bacon with more force than was necessary. "What exactly did she say?"
"And why do you care so much?" he demanded. "Why do you wish me to remain ignorant to your life here?" He began to jump to conclusions. "Has Nathan done something to you that you want to hide?"
She blushed, eyes widened. "What? No! No. It's just—" She huffed. "You're here to play my boyfriend. You don't need to know every detail about my life story."
In truth, there were just some things she did not want to have to explain to Dan. It would be embarrassing, and if he were so truly possessive, then it was possible he would lose whatever self-control he had managed to harness.
Too bad he had a one-track mind.
"To properly end Nathan's obsession with you," he said, "I need to understand in what ways he accosts you. That way, I know where to be. How to respond." He smiled darkly. "What to determine as an appropriate punishment for him."
She pointed her finger. "And that's exactly why you don't need to know everything. Because you have no concept of justice."
He frowned. Perhaps Valerie simply needed some introspection regarding her own problem. He munched on eggs for a second, waving his fork. "If my superior deduction skills have not degraded, I assume that you spend much of your time here doing paperwork and training. Is this true?"
"…Yes?"
"And then," he said, voice growing stronger with confidence, "judging by the eyewitness accounts from your bimbo friend and the old insect, you spend the rest of your time attempting to avoid Nathan. Is this true as well?"
Her face flamed up, and she looked away from him. The silence between them weighed heavy, and it spoke greater words than Valerie herself would be willing to admit. It was the first time Valerie had truly thought about how much of her non-Phantom life revolved around avoiding Nathan.
She sighed out a groan and set her fork down. "I just…don't know what to do anymore."
"Please tell me at least that you don't still hide under lunch tables."
"No, I grew out of that." She seemed frustrated. "But nothing I do stops him. He just keeps…doing stuff. You sure this whole pretending-to-be-a-couple thing is really gonna stop him?"
"We shall see," Dan said, calculating. "If he's intelligent, he'll back off."
Almost as if the human knew he was being talked about, Nathan entered the cafeteria, wearing a white coat and carrying a clipboard. For a second, Nathan's eyes scanned the room, and they automatically roved over to Valerie, running over her frizzed ringlet hair and moving downward.
Dan narrowed his eyes into a dark glare. Nathan snapped out of his Valerie-induced trance and looked over at Dan, paling a bit. For a second, Nathan looked every inch the defenseless and terrified worm, but then he licked his lips and hardened his own gaze, walking on.
Dan blinked in surprise.
"Lemme guess," Valerie deadpanned. Even though her back was turned away from the hall, she had an idea of what was happening. "You're seeing Nathan, right?"
The ghost snarled, "What's he doing here?"
"Yeah, he kinda lives here, so he'll eat here too."
A growl worked its way up Dan's throat, his hand clenching his spoon hard enough to bend it. "That little shit," he snarled. "After his lesson, he still looks at you. He just challenged me."
"You're bending the spoon."
"Irrelevant," he snapped. "Nathan needs to die. Right now."
She kicked his foot underneath the table. "No, he doesn't. And you promised you wouldn't kill anyone. You better stick to that promise, or—"
"—Or what?" he demanded. "Do you honestly wish for Nathan to continue bothering you?"
Valerie looked uncomfortable as she said slowly. "No, but I don't want him to die. I just want him to stop…wanting me."
"What's the difference?" Dan said with a snarl. Possession over Valerie seemed to grip him stronger than even his usual bloodlust. "He deserves to have his blood paint the walls. He just revealed how unintelligent he really is, by looking upon you with such desire, knowing that you are mine—"
She leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "—I'm nobody's. And you better put a cap on that anger, right now. If you snap and try to kill Nathan, that illusion of yours will have to be arrested for manslaughter. Whatever freedom you have to be a different person here, you'll lose it." She crossed her arms. "And you'll lose me too."
He snapped up to look at her, his blue eyes straining with red. "Why?" he demanded, the thought driving his anger deeper. "Why would I lose you for doing you a favor?"
"Because," she said shortly, crossing her arms, "Valerie Gray's got a problem with officially dating murderers. And right now, 'D' isn't one, unlike the rest of you. So if you want a repeat of this morning at all, stop. Now."
His eye twitched, and he glared at her, grumbling under his breath. "That is cruel manipulation." But he hesitated, seemingly at war with himself to calm the possessive fury that swarmed within him. He knew at some core that Valerie was right; killing Nathan now, who only wielded a clipboard and had done little more than look upon Valerie, would likely result in many consequences that would burn his false appearance forever. Valerie would be forced to split ties with D, simply out of propriety.
With an unsteady jerk of his fingers, he re-bent his spoon back into shape and slurped on his soup again. His narrowed eyes tracked Nathan the entire time as the red-head moved through the breakfast line, then back out of the atrium and down the hall. And it was then that Dan realized this Nathan Green was a resilient sort of cockroach, who would likely keep coming back short of a nuclear blast.
He began to calculate on his mental chess board what it would take to stop Nathan forever, in a way that would make Valerie understand just how blind she was to Nathan's insanity. Then Valerie would willingly come running to him, admitting that he was right and that Nathan should die—
The chess pieces began to set into place. He'd expose Nathan at his worst, so that no one would dare to protect him from real justice.
And then, maybe then, "D" would be justified in the eyes of the human race to slit the throat of Nathan Green once and for all.
In the meantime, Valerie stared at her arch nemesis and his disgruntled expression. Phantom was a strange enemy to have, with his odd demands and love for the game itself. He was an even stranger love interest. And yet here he was, eating human food, taking interest in her day, acting protective. Even though he was still the same old Dan in so many ways, his fury on her behalf was…nice.
Nobody had ever offered to really help her with Nathan.
She was so caught up in her thoughts, she failed to see him grab the extra piece of bacon off of her plate. "Hey!" She smacked his hand away with indignant anger. "That's mine."
He just smiled darkly, still calculating. "What? I haven't eaten anything in years."
The rest of the day flew by in a flurry. Dan remained largely attached to her, interested in her daily routine so he could understand how Nathan managed to bug her constantly. His curiosity went far enough that he was willing to stand guard while she did paperwork in her office, of which she had multiple stacks of debriefing reports waiting for her beside her desk.
Upon entering her office, Dan complained about the lack of pictures of him, and then he nosed around her desk until she whacked his arm with a stack of forms and told him to sit down while she worked. He then seemed to indicate that he was quite willing to perform a repeat of their "fake-out make-out" with the blinds closed, but she snapped that she had work to do.
"Valerie," he moaned in complaint. "Do you even realize the torment you're putting us through by sitting there and…pretending this morning didn't happen?"
She blushed. "Look, I said it was good, alright? I just…"
"Are you afraid?"
Her voice was defensive. "No."
"I think you are."
"No, I'm not."
He smiled. "Yes, you are. You fear the consequences of a physical relationship with me, even though we have been…intimately connected in the mind for almost a decade." He leaned on the front of her desk. "You fear that once the newness wears off of our physical relationship, your life will descend into some greater misery."
She gaped at him from over a blank report, her pen frozen in her hand. A blush began to bloom over her face. "That isn't…I mean—"
He waved it off. "Such fears are for those who have no mental investment in their lovers." He looked at her. "It's for the people who define their relationship through physicality alone. After ten years, I'd say we have fairly solid foundations enough to know we are above such trivialities."
"We aren't lovers," she said dryly.
A mischievous smirk tilted his lips. "Not yet." Valerie sputtered, her mouth tightening into a thin line, and she looked back down at her work in irritation.
His smirk stretched, but he stopped teaasing, for he knew Valerie would only grow more irate with him if he continued. He looked over at the impressive bookcase that lined one of her walls. "So why do you have so much paperwork?" he called over his shoulder.
"Because," she huffed. "I'm usually out fighting you from dawn to dusk. I'm like, six months behind on everything, no thanks to you."
"Oh, that's right," he said, browsing through the shelves of the bookcase, blindly scrolling through titles of medical care and engineering books. "I forgot that you're entirely human and incapable of cloning yourself to maximize efficiency."
"Yes," she said dryly. "Because that's how everyone solves their problems."
Then Dan fell uncharacteristically silent for a moment, something catching his eye. A whole section of Valerie's bookcase was dedicated not to nonfictional books, but to classical fiction.
He ran his forefinger over the titles, feeling the high-quality binding and gold letters. Some part of his mind (certainly not the Danny Fenton part) appreciated the old books. At times, it felt that he had perhaps read them as a child over and over again, which suggested the impulse was a vestige left over from one Vlad Plasmius—whose memories were largely conveyed in little more than emotion. But he did not usually try to separate himself out into parts, and so the impulse was simply his own. As he read over the titles, great enjoyment swarmed through him. The Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes. The Complete Works of Shakespeare. The Canterbury Tales. The Waste Land. Paradise Lost. The Heart of Darkness.
His eyebrow raised. "Why Valerie, I didn't know you had a classic book collection. Or that you even enjoyed reading."
She dropped her pen with a sharp sigh of irritation. She was not going to get work done with him interrupting her thoughts every few minutes. She painfully smiled. "I don't enjoy reading. I'd rather shoot myself."
"Why do you own these books then?"
"So I could figure out what you were saying half the time," she complained. "You always have to make these literary references and then expect me to act like I know what you mean."
"Did you ever research the story that included the beast with two backs?" he said suddenly. "I seem to recall a conversation about that."
"No. I already knew what that was." She blushed, not looking up from her work.
He waved The Complete Works of Shakespeare at her. "You have it here," he said point-blank. "In The Tragedy of Othello."
"Well, if it entertains you so much, why don't you read it?" She bit her lip as she desperately tried to focus on her debriefing form. Dammit, she'd lost her spot.
Dan pondered at the book, then put it back. "I've quite memorized Shakespeare," he declared. "Though I believe your copy of Crime and Punishment is calling to me." He settled into the comfortable chair on the opposite side of her desk, cracking open the hard cover of the book. "Don't mind me."
"Oh, never," she said, voice falsely pleasant.
And as Valerie worked over the next hours, Dan alternated between reading, eyeing Valerie, and watching the door. He enjoyed the plot of the classic book, but he noticed Nathan pass by the office door over twenty times, looking through the window each time to see if Valerie were alone yet. Valerie was, of course, entirely unaware and engrossed in her notes. Each time, it grew harder and harder for Dan to sit still and avoid growling. He stopped reading the book entirely so that he could anticipate Nathan's next appearance. His glares grew darker until they were absolutely demonic. He could almost feel the black strands of his hair flicker up at the ends until he realized what he was doing.
The seventeenth time Nathan passed by, Dan lost it. He slammed his book shut and cast it to the floor. Then he stood and non-too-gently shut the blinds on Valerie's window, growling.
Valerie looked up from her debriefing report on the attack at Jasper City, raising a brow. "…What are you doing?"
He snapped, "For someone with expert battle and tracking skills, I'm surprised how much you don't notice here. Nathan keeps walking by. Do you realize he cases your office every fifteen minutes or less?"
She looked back down. "Nathan runs errands for a lot of departments. It's not like he can't move around."
"Don't make excuses for him," Dan said sharply, lip curling in a snarl. "Regardless of his station, he has no need to seek out your office and peer through your window. Don't be a pushover to your own race."
She slammed her fist on the desk, feeling insulted. "I am not a pushover. I just don't have time to worry about small things. If I can ignore him, I usually do."
"And that's worked so well," he said. He looked disturbed as he sat back down at his chair and crossed his arms. "You're the veritable lamb in a wolf den. A sitting duck."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Valerie asked, exasperated. "Nathan does a lot of work for the resistance. I can't kick him out. Maybe he just hasn't figured out yet you're here to stay, and that's why he's still...acting up."
With a furrowed brow of frustration, Dan grabbed Crime and Punishment off of the floor, and he opened to his bookmark, grumbling beneath his breath. "If I weren't so displeased by your passivity, I would be delighted by your insinuation that you want my continued presence." He flipped a page with more force than necessary. "Everything with you is so complicated."
Valerie snorted. "Well, get used to it. I'm not about to change just for you."
He dug into his jacket pocket for his cigarette and lighter, realizing that his core temperature was beginning to leech into the air. As he lit the end of the cigarette, he said, "I would be cross if you were anyone but yourself."
And the two of them fell into a relatively comfortable silence at that, Valerie grumbling to hide her pleased expression and the confliction she felt gazing at this wolf in sheep's clothing, who could say the most heartfelt things at all the worst times.
Dan looked back down at Crime and Punishment. As he breathed in deep the cigarette smoke, he focused on the story, losing himself in the spaces, for he knew that bantering with Valerie more would risk his chances of kissing her later.
He didn't want to admit it, but the comfortable space between them—occasionally making off-hand comments to Valerie as he read a book about self-destruction and justice—Valerie occasionally responding with a biting response—was actually quite nice. He could almost forget that they were supposed to be mortal enemies.
He wondered if perhaps Valerie were capable of forgetting too.
Hours passed. The remaining pages of Crime and Punishment began to grow fewer. The stacks of "to do" paperwork on Valerie's desk began to shrink. They occasionally took short breaks to walk around the resistance building—a suggestion on Valerie's part, mostly out of fear that Dan would grow bored and then unleash mayhem for his own entertainment.
Around dinner time, they found themselves back in the atrium. Dan decided to try eating spaghetti and was again enraptured by the taste of food, enough that he seemed to forget himself. She watched in amusement as the Ravager of Worlds spun his fork on his plate, eyes furrowed in great concentration as he tried to wind as many noodles as possible onto the utensil.
"Having fun?" she asked dryly.
He glared at her. "There's a science to this." But then he sniffed in triumph as he raised the fork with a heaping tangle of noodles, and he slurped the noodles into his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss. If his enjoyment of food continued, he supposed he would have a reason to keep more humans than just Valerie alive. He would have to enslave only the best of cooks, and then they would have to cook him everything under the sun that he'd forgotten about for ten years—as well as every dish he'd never tried.
Valerie seemed to be genuinely entertained by him, the lines of her body relaxing as she leaned her head on her hand. "If you enjoy eating so much, then just wait till you have, like, a cookie or something. I wanna know what you look like on a sugar high."
He opened one brilliant blue eye, mischievous. "Do not tempt me."
Nathan lurked in the corners of the atrium, watching the couple curiously but never exposing himself.
He could see the hesitance in Valerie and the way her body—her innocent and virginal body—leaned in want for the man, even from across the table. He felt threatened and alone by her betrayal. For ten years, he'd managed to keep Valerie to himself. He knew she had never been with a man (he would have known, he always knew her social circles, whom she talked to, what men were in her life and how she'd always brushed off advances…what time at night she locked herself alone in her room…). He supposed her old flame with D was an event before he'd gained so much access to her life, but her actions and hesitance told him that she had not yet given in. Perhaps she had been saving herself for when she could give up ghost hunting and become a softer woman.
But now this D man (this demon!) had turned her head around. He was corrupting her and had already bruised her lips and touched her body. And Valerie wanted him to.
Nathan felt stuck. If he did nothing, Valerie would inevitably submit to D's charms, and then she would be ruined. If he tried to interfere, D would inevitably beat him again. And if he tried to hurt D, then Valerie would likely never forgive him because her mind was corrupted and weakened.
He had to do something. He had to preserve whatever was left of the real Valerie Gray—before D could corrupt that too.
Nathan's fist clenched, and his breath hitched. This was no longer a time for ideas; he needed an action plan. He had to preserve Valerie from D's touch. He had to stop D. He had to keep Valerie from ever being tempted by another man.
He had to stop D.
Slowly, ideas connected in his head, aligning into a plan that stretched a sad smile across his face.
He supposed Valerie's secret love for him was a passing thought, for she obviously was willing to pursue other men. To have her to himself forever and ever, to punish D, he would have to be strong. He would have to take matters into his own hands. And he would have to do the unthinkable to save Valerie from her own horrible mistakes.
Dan and Valerie remained in the atrium long after everyone else had left, speaking in tones too low for Nathan to hear from his spot behind a corner.
"So," Dan asked with great interest, "where do I sleep tonight?"
She sat back in her chair, arms crossed. "We've got some extra rooms down my hall," she said. "You can take one of them."
His face faulted. "You mean, not your room?"
"Nope. Not my room." She looked unforgiving. "Don't push me on this, because I'm not budging."
"But—" he huffed. Then his lips pursed with great disappointment, until he leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "How can you expect me to protect you from Nathan if I am separated from you?"
"He's not gonna be in my room," she deadpanned. "He's not that crazy. And don't use Nathan as an excuse to manipulate me into letting you in."
He exhaled sharply, eyeing her. He had half a mind to tell Valerie that it was very much possible for Nathan to be that crazy, now that "D" existed as the new chess piece to shake up the status quo. He also thought to tease Valerie about her virgin fears regarding bedrooms—but she would probably kick him for that, and then he certainly would not get another kiss. At least for a while.
"It's very cruel," he said, "that you will swap spit with me here in the hall, but you delay sharing your bed."
She shined her bright teeth, a predatory look in her eye. "Don't hold your breath, lover boy."
He raised a brow, his lips stretched into a Cheshire grin that matched hers. "I don't have to breathe, Valerie."
Her face faulted into a pout at that. "Well, you don't have to sleep either, but I do. And you've already cut into my sleep schedule—" she looked up at the clock on the wall, which said 10:04—"by over an hour."
Now that he thought about it, Valerie did look a bit tired. The open weakness that seemed to exist in the lines of her body suddenly fascinated Dan, who had never seen the famous Ghost Slayer act anything but alert and lively. "Don't tell me that Valerie Gray the Ghost Slayer is an old person who goes to bed before midnight."
"I get up early," she said shortly. "Which means I have an early bed time. You know, when somebody doesn't mess that up too."
He shrugged. "Interrupting sleep is part of my job description as an evil villain."
She asked tiredly as she stood up and grabbed her lunch tray, "Look, can I trust you to not do something insane in the middle of the night?"
"I'd never trust me," he said, lips tilting dark. "But I have slept out of boredom before. For you, I suppose I can engage in such hibernation."
The thought that he would again restrict himself on her behalf (even temporarily) send a wave of happiness through her. She reached out with her free hand and patted his face. "Good boy."
He pulled away from her touch and growled a bit in a disgruntled manner, but damn if he didn't actually enjoy it or the sound of Valerie's resounding, rough laugh.
A time later found them walking down the sleeping quarters of the resistance, which were several halls dedicated to dorm-like rooms. "We're not completely militarized," Valerie said as they passed by the first hall, "so most of us either have our own rooms or roommates. All nonessential personnel have their own housing offsite."
Dan looked a bit relieved by this. "So no barracks that you have to share with other insects—I mean, humans?"
"No," she said dryly. "But the community showers keep you feeling pretty close."
His face faulted, and his nose scrunched. "That is disgusting."
They passed by doors with slick metal plaques on the front that named their inhabitants and titles. Dan supposed they had entered into the quarters for the central command—and here he was, walking in their very midst, undetected.
The thought was a slight comfort to him, a reminder that he truly wasn't human. That he was above all of this triviality and organization.
Eventually, Valerie stopped at a simple black door that matched all of the other doors—lacking a title plaque. She entered a passcode on the door's security lock, and it opened up into a respectable room with a desk and several lights illuminating a large bed. "You'll stay here in tonight," she said.
He looked around the hall, less interested in the room and more interested in his surroundings. The door precisely opposite to his said, Valerie Gray, Defense Commander.
"Aww," he mocked. "Hallmates."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't read too much into it." She turned away and began to walk towards her own door. "I'm going to bed, so don't bother me. I'll get up around 4:00 to come get you."
He did not look away from her, his eyes strained. Was she really going to play like none of this carried meaning? "Valerie," he said suddenly, trailing after her.
"What?" she called out with a groan, punching in the passcode for her door. The locks unlatched, and the door cracked open. Her nice, warm bed was only several feet away.
"Do you even realize," Dan moaned in complaint, "that I have been patiently waiting all day to kiss you again?"
"…Huh—?"
In a blur, he was by her side. He turned her around by her hips and kissed her with barely restrained passion, weaving his fingers into her loose, ringlet hair to pull her closer. She gave a surprised squeak that made him only desire her more. His power core pulsed in time with her heartbeat, his universe constricting down to one Valerie Gray.
This—whatever this was—was far better than any kind of world conquest.
Valerie's shock quickly wore off, and he felt her relax into the kiss. Her fingers curled into the front of his jacket, as if to lock him to her. Their kiss deepened, and Dan groaned at the friction of her lips and tongue against his, his entire body humming in pleasure as he complicated her, and as she complicated him.
Was that that again about beds and sleep?
Their lips stretched in new ways, their need growing greater. Her bare fingers—oh god, she wasn't wearing her battle suit this time—twitched beyond the front buckles of his jacket. But before his entire mind could become mush, he pulled away and set his forehead against hers, closing his eyes to feel the life within her.
Their chests heaved in the silence. "There," he whispered breathlessly. "I wanted to tell you good night."
Her face was a pleasant red. "Oh," she said in a daze.
Very reluctantly, he pulled away from her, his fingers slipping from the curls of her hair. Her hands fell uselessly at her side, just as she leaned hard against the threshold to keep her standing. Then, as if nothing had happened, Dan walked away and to the empty room across the hall. He shut the door.
And for the first time in nearly a day, the infamous Dan Phantom was out of her sight.
Still in a daze, Valerie moved into her room and shut her door, and then she leaned against it, eyes wide. "Holy shit." Her body was shaking in desire for him, a burning need still deep in her belly. This was all a very dangerous game. Surely, Dan knew that. Probably, he had planned it.
She hid her face in her hands, feeling as though she were betraying herself. "Am I crazy?" she whispered to the air. Was she crazy for liking it? For kissing him back? Dan Phantom had murdered millions and laughed. In the past, he had attacked her and nearly killed her with his power. Her worth to him was based upon his perception of her ability to entertain him. She supposed that, if she failed to meet his standards, he would likely grow tired of her and try to kill her off again.
Which made this whole fake relationship hardly a relationship at all. Just a physical benefit of a temporary truce.
But oh, did her body ache for him in ways that she'd never felt before. She flushed deep, breathing shakily at the memory of his baritone voice rumbling softly against her neck.
"We should get a room or something before we lose control."
The truth was, she'd already lost control. The fact that he could honestly play the part of the protective, teasing boyfriend with a soft touch was—
"—Geez, Gray. Stop thinking about it," she complained. Slowly, she stood up and began to undo her belt and then her military uniform. "The more you think about it, the worse it's gonna get." She stepped out of her uniform and tossed it aside, looking for her pajama shorts and top. A small part of her began to wonder what it would be like to have Dan's hands undressing her.
She looked at herself in the mirror and reddened in self-conscious embarrassment. She didn't see herself as having a perfect body. It was terrifying to think of the excessively judgmental Dan staring at her naked and—
"Oh my god." She slapped her forehead, groaning. "Stop thinking like this." She unbuckled her bra and pulled on her shorts and tank top. Then she grabbed her hairbrush and began to undo her ponytail and the tangles that Dan's fingers had placed in her hair. Her hands shook. "It's not like that's ever gonna happen."
Damn that ghost for corrupting her thoughts like this. Now she would likely never see him the same way again.
Obviously, Dan was just infatuated with the idea of her and willing play around while he satisfied his need to take up every hour of her day. That was it. And she was just…infatuated with the idea that he was the only remaining fragment of the boy she'd once liked. None of this had anything to do with the fact that they understood the other person in too many ways—that they enjoyed their fights for too many reasons.
Right.
But a sudden knock at the door interrupted Valerie from her thoughts. The way the knock was hard and impatient sounded similar to Paulina's nightly knocks whenever she had juicy gossip to spread and an inability to keep her mouth shut. Valerie rolled her eyes. Good grief.
"Paulina," she complained as she walked over and opened the door, "seriously, it's been a long day and I'm trying to sleep—"
Her voice died, and her eyes widened as she stared at the man before her. It was Dan, who was very interested in her threadbare tank top and shorts and her wild, loose hair that curled freely down her shoulders. It was the most disheveled state he'd ever seen her in.
"I'm not Paulina," he said, lips stretching wide as he realized that Valerie was not wearing a bra.
The air about him was slightly cooler, most likely from not smoking for a while. It goose-bumped her skin, and in paranoia, she crossed her arms over her chest. She half-thought about calling forth her battle gear to cover herself, but she did not want Dan to think she was actually threatening him. "The hell are you doing here?" she hissed, narrowing her eyes. "You got your own damn room."
"I got lonely," he pouted mockingly, leaning against the threshold. "I missed you."
She blushed red, grumbling. "I'm sure."
"Why don't you let me in?" he asked, sticking his face in hers. "I won't do anything you won't like."
"No," she whispered back. Her heart was racing with a fear that she actually would like whatever he was thinking. Which she was sure had something to do with adult-type touching.
With little warning, he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers in a teasing kiss. Then he pulled away the second Valerie began to lean in as well. He licked his lips, her warmth still tingling on his skin. "How about now?"
She looked put out and irritated with his attempts to persuade her. "You are not going to seduce me into letting you into my room," she snapped, but her will looked weakened, the lines of her body softer.
He kissed her again, this time with more passion. He cupped the back of her neck, which radiated heat like fire, and he weaved his fingers into her stiff, frizzy curls.
Valerie felt herself give way beneath the snowstorm taste of his mouth, her mind blitzing. Holy—he tastes good—want more—Her fingers tentatively inched beneath his leather jacket, feeling the soft fabric and cool, hardened muscle beneath. It was as if she wished to prove he truly existed—that this wasn't all a dream.
He moaned, pressing her between himself and the wall. "If not your room, then how about mine?" he whispered against her lips. This pajama-clad Valerie Gray had damn near shut down his entire brain. He could feel the soft tautness of her body against his. It was a drug for him. He wanted more of her in any way he could.
Valerie hesitated, as if to pull away from him. Her shaky breath was as a caress against his face. "It's not the room I'm worried about."
Dan was about to retort with a tease, but his heightened senses acknowledged suddenly the sound of a foot squeaking against tile. He pulled away from Valerie, who looked surprised at the loss of him. Then she followed his gaze in confusion, which was pointed left down the hall.
And standing in the hall was one Nathan Green, jaw dropped.
For a second, all three of them stood in silence with Dan and Valerie's uneven breaths to mark the passage of seconds.
Valerie swallowed hard, feeling embarrassed and caged. If she pushed Dan away, it would inspire Nathan to consider that she didn't want Dan (which she did). If she did something radical to confirm her attraction to Dan, it would tell Nathan once and for all that she was taken.
But then a radical move—she had one in mind—would be conceding defeat to Dan and his campaign.
Dammit.
Nathan almost looked as if he would speak or cross the hall to them. The fear that bled into Valerie inspired her to make her radical movement. She grabbed onto one of the open front buckles of Dan's jacket, and she whispered loud enough for Nathan to hear, forcing her voice into a seductive tone, "We should take this inside."
Dan's blue eyes tightened. "I agree." He jauntily saluted Nathan with his middle finger, then kissed Valerie again, this time grabbing her hips to guide her backwards into her room. She gave a squeak of surprise, holding onto his neck for stability.
In a blur, he leaned Valerie against a wall and he absentmindedly kicked the door shut with his foot.
The resounding echo of the click seemed to jar Valerie's mind that she had in fact just allowed Dan Phantom into her room, and that they were both still engaging in quite a bit of adult-type touching, even though they had no one like Nathan to pretend for anymore.
Dan's rough callouses sparked friction against her skin as his fingers slipped beneath the waistline of her shorts and the hem of her tank top. She gasped against his lips and tightened her grip. She knew something about this was wrong. No matter the illusion of human skin, these were the hands of a murderer at best. It was not supposed to feel so good to have them upon her body. To have Dan Phantom in her bedroom, sexing her up. To be doing the same to him.
This was wrong—all wrong.
She turned her head, breaking their kiss. She gasped for air, eyes wide. "W-we gotta stop," she whispered, voice wavering. "This wasn't—it's just cause Nathan—" Her mind felt scattered, her tongue still tingling with the taste of snow. "You gotta leave."
His hands slipped from her body slowly. "I don't think either of us want me to leave."
She swallowed hard. "Stop it." She pulled away, facing the door to hide her blush. "Do you think Nathan's still out there?"
"Most likely." He turned her chin back so that they remained eye-to-eye. His gaze was wicked and calculating as he murmured, "If you'd really like to disturb him, let me sleep in your room tonight. Nathan will get…ideas about what we've done." His thin lips stretched. "Unless you want to make it more than an idea."
She inhaled a sharp breath. The idea wasn't repulsive, but it was terrifying. Her tongue felt caught in her mouth. "No," she said, forcing her voice to harden against him. "You make it sound like this is all for my benefit, when it's really just for yours."
He looked frustrated and put out. "You can't keep denying that our attraction is mutual. Honestly, you're tormenting us both. You could gain from this arrangement as well."
"You can't expect me to trust you," she retorted. "Everything's got a price with you. Everything's got an angle."
He brushed his calloused thumb against her cheek, then her lips, which were soft and full like petals. "I'm not a hero, Valerie. You know that." His voice was dark, smooth as velvet. "You can't expect selflessness from me. But I know you are just as manipulative as I am, just as wicked." He mocked her. "So don't pretend to be a saint on my behalf, because you've never been one."
She whispered in a snarl, "I'm not evil like you." She pushed him away despite the pain of denying herself the sparks of pleasure she knew she could feel under his hands.
"Good and evil are very relative terms," Dan said dryly. He moved forward again, brushing her ringlet curls away from her cheek. "Were you me—if you could feel what I have felt—you would feel justified to take life and destroy as recompense. To rule as compensation."
She set her mouth into a hard line. It was difficult to feel such attraction for a man whose perspective in no way aligned with her own. "That's not an excuse," she said, poking his chest hard. "And deep down, you know it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here having so much fun pretending to be human again."
He grabbed onto her hand. Funny, she did not feel threatened by his actions. "I am not human," he said. His strong fingers caressed hers. "And I do not understand your ridiculous morality. But let me stay here with you. You told me earlier today that desiring to be in the presence of a like mind is…human. I want to understand this more. Is that not enough?"
At some core, the ravaged mind that was a broken Daniel Fenton and a jaded Vlad Plasmius were aligned in this. The whole of Dan Phantom suffered from the most human longing of all—to have someone to share time with. To have a companion of sorts who could keep up with him. He looked away, mouth set in an uncomfortable line.
These were not thoughts to vocalize, for he knew they were the driving force behind his chess games with Valerie. He had perhaps already said too much.
Valerie leaned against the wall, rubbing her temples. Fuck my life. "Are you seriously using my own words against me so I'll feel like I'm contributing to your evilness if I make you leave?"
"As a matter of fact…"
She looked up and glared at him. Then the fight left her. "I hate you," she groaned. "I don't know why you keep arguing just for space—"
He moved forward. "So I can stay?"
Her voice grew hard as she conceded. "If you do, you're sleeping on the floor. No exceptions. And if you try anything, and I mean anything, the battle suit comes on, and I'm drop-kicking you out the window. Got it?"
He looked mildly disappointed, but expectant. "It is a better arrangement than having to sleep on sheets that other humans have previously slept on."
She gave him an incredulous look as she began to move towards her dresser. The bottom drawer contained an extra set of sheets, and she pulled them out with a suffering sigh. "So what do you call stuff I've slept on?"
"Well, that's different. You've slept on them, which makes them better."
"That makes no sense."
"You know you love it."
She huffed, but said nothing as she unraveled the sheets and laid them out along the carpeted floor. Her room was small enough that Dan would be laying down right beside her bed. Something about that sparked her tingles all over again.
She heard the rustle of clothes, and she looked up, realizing that Dan was shrugging out of his jacket. Then she froze, paling. "…What are you doing?!"
"You can't expect me to remain dressed, can you?" he asked simply, kicking off his combat boots. Then he began to unbuckle the belt on his pants. "Truly, I despise how restricting normal clothes are."
She looked horrified as she quickly looked away before her eyes could get stuck watching him undress. "Ohmigod." Her blush deepened and spread all the way down her collarbones. "You've gotta be kidding me."
He huffed at her, pulling the tie out of his hair. He was now in only his jeans and a tight, thin shirt. "What?" he asked as he ran his fingers through his light tangles, giving her bedroom eyes. "It's not like I'm getting naked. Unless you want me to get naked."
She slapped her forehead. Her voice strangled. "No, I don't want you naked. Keep your pants on. Seriously."
Dan rolled his eyes, but he conceded, for he knew he would likely have to warm her up to the idea of heavier adult-type touching over the course of time.
One day—he knew it—the sexual tension would have to go somewhere. It was inevitable. He could feel it.
Valerie sighed wearily. She pulled off the extra pillow off of her bed and cast it onto the sheets she'd set out. "It's like, freakin' 11:00. I am going to sleep whether you like it or not." And she climbed onto her bed, then flipped a switch on the wall. The room fell into darkness but for the slight moonlight from her window.
In the dark, Dan pulled off the thin shirt he'd worn beneath his jacket. As Valerie asked so nicely, he kept his pants on, though he wish he had access to something other than jeans—those were not comfortable sleepwear at all. With a suffering sigh, he stretched onto the pile of blankets. He marveled at how familiar this all felt despite years of not sleeping, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric.
He twisted onto his back, placing his hands behind his head. The sheets smelled like detergent and Valerie, of which he liked the Valerie part. "Hmm," he said, closing his eyes. "Now, Valerie—I know you have a manipulative streak in you. So if I hibernate myself on your request, only to discover you taking advantage of me, I shall be very cross."
She snorted into her pillow. From Dan's angle, all he could see was a few strands of her hair. But then her face appeared over the side of the bed in a tumble of curls, an eyebrow cocked with incredulity. "Right back at you, buddy."
His smile still shined white, even in the darkness. He watched as her eyes swept over his body, from his broad shoulders down. His lips stretched wider. "Like what you see?"
She blushed, then looked away, her head disappearing back over her bed. "I was just making sure you weren't hiding any weapons on you."
The excuse was poor, for both knew Dan Phantom did not carry physical weapons. "Whatever makes you sleep better, Valerie," he called up to her with a dark chuckle. "Whatever makes you sleep better."
Silence fell between them, with nothing but the sound of Valerie's grumble and the furnace breathing warm air into the room. It was an almost comfortable arrangement. Almost like they were old friends—and perhaps in some twisted way, they were.
When Dan said nothing more for quite some time, Valerie grew curious to know if he were really behaving. Clenching her covers tighter around her, she inched her eyes over the edge of her bed to peer down at him. She blinked in surprise. Dan had covered himself in a blanket and turned on his side away from her. For someone who boasted never having to sleep, and who said his energy was endless, Dan appeared out like a light. The naked lines of his shoulders rose and fell in a breath that Dan did not need, but likely did out of subconscious habit. Every line in his body was relaxed in a way she had never seen.
Did he really trust her so much to sleep in her presence?
Something twitched Valerie's lips into an amused smirk. For a time, she simply watched him in curiosity, burrowing against her pillow, marveling at this strange ghost who had destroyed her life in so many ways and yet still carried sparks of the Danny she once knew.
Then she pulled her blankets over herself and turned on her side. I can't believe he's sleeping in my room, she thought ruefully, squeezing her eyes shut tight to rid herself of the tingles that still ran down her body. What the hell is my life coming to?
Soon enough, her exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she relaxed deep into dreams.
A/N: God, these past few weeks were stressful. I had a major business deal that kicked off at work, and I was so nervous that I rambled and made myself sound stupid. I never want to show my face to those people again, and the work's only just beginning. The struggle is real.
Going back to the story, this was an interesting update for me to write, because I was constantly having to juggle between Dan and Val's physical attraction and their inherently opposite moral standards. This update also made a minor reference to "Tis the Season to Be Friends," regarding the beast with two backs metaphor (Thanks, Trish, haha). I'm not sure yet if all my holiday stories will be in the same universe/timeline, but I just couldn't resist here. It fit with my head-canon that Dan is secretly a literary junkie.
I'm not sure how long you want me to keep going with this thread. So I'm opening this up to you guys as an informal poll: What update would you like to see next: Valentine thread, Aftermath thread, Karma thread, or a new one-shot/request?
Please review with thoughts. Thanks!
