Disclaimer: I don't own DP.

Thanks to Mrsce, Lady Audentium, Iblamepie, Invader Johnny, starwater09, Yasz1221, hrisi292, monsta, Noname, kikicat, SerasxAl, LyricAftershock, thesilentstars, This-Lil'-Fan-Girl, Guest, JadeliketheGem, and KraZiiePyrozHavemoreFun for reviewing last time! I really appreciated your thoughts and your condolences regarding my grandmother. I also noticed some people had some requests regarding the use of Clockwork in stories, so I'm keeping that in mind.

Series Summary: The great Dan Phantom makes the Red Huntress an offer she can't refuse. A Christmas sequel to VALentine.

Chapter Warnings: Language and innuendoes.


Deliverance

Shot 60: Dan's Secret Wedding Plans Part 1


For months, the name "Dan Phantom" became a source of anxious confusion. He had disappeared off the face of the earth, with the exception of a few rumored sightings. The early spring gave way into the full bloom of April and May, and then the hot nights of summer. The headquarters of the Russian resistance, the Australian resistance, and the African resistance all confirmed the same thing: No sign of the infamous Dan Phantom, the Ravager of Worlds.

But for Valerie Gray, the name of her arch enemy inspired a different kind of anxiousness.

She knew he was planning something big.

The Red Huntress kept vigilant watch over Amity Park and the several smaller cities that Phantom had once tormented without mercy. Only hints of his continued presence—and master plan—leaked through.

They came in the form of updates from "D," Phantom's well-loved human disguise he'd used in Amity Park. Everyone knew D had been severely injured saving Valerie from the bullets of one crazed Nathan's experimental weaponry, and that D had transferred to a lab in Australia for life-saving treatment. Only two people, who were Valerie and Kwan, knew D was Phantom and that the Australian lab was an entire fabrication.

Valerie dear, said a handwritten note in June, the letters shaky and almost illegible. Her lips had twitched up at the use of "Valerie dear." And then it made her smile falter, in a foreboding realization that she longed for her own enemy's presence. Not doing well. Still affected by the fusion bullets. Doctors to place me into suspended animation until they can develop new treatments. She gripped the letter tighter in apprehension—something about this felt final, as if Dan were telling her that D's usefulness was waning. I will likely be under by the time you get this. Don't come to the lab—I want to be well the next time you see me.

For the rest of that month, and well into July and August, she received reports from the lab. The fake reports, likely automated from some device of Dan's, smoothed over the continuing absence. No treatment successful, said the reports.

Valerie began to grow anxious after that. Dan had told her he would return soon. By "soon," she had assumed maybe a month. A few, tops. But by September, she began to worry that something was not right. The automated reports felt entirely too robotic.

By November, nine months had passed since Phantom last stepped foot within her radar. She'd traversed the world on her jet sled, searching for his ectoplasmic signature.

Still nothing.

Then she began to worry that perhaps something had happened to Phantom, or that maybe he had lost interest in the Human World (and her) entirely. She'd stood in her battle suit, floating above the Shield of Amity Park, watching sunset after sunset and telling herself that, dammit, she wasn't crying. She was Defense Commander Valerie Gray, and Phantom was an immoral killer who most certainly did not deserve her tears or time—even if he had spared her life at great expense to himself. And kissed her. And touched her in ways no one else had.

By December, she'd come to some kind of understanding that perhaps things were better this way. Amity Park was rebuilding and stretching its Shield to new distances, as was a rebuilt Jasper City and several other new towns. The total population had just hit over one billion, which was well above the threshold needed to ensure the survival of the human race.

It seemed the great apocalypse was over.

Without Phantom, an influx of ghosts from the Zone had also begun to take up residency in the Human World again, many causing mischief. Valerie liked that. It kept her busy fighting them back so that she couldn't think too long about the fate of Dan Phantom.

And then it happened.


She was sitting at breakfast on the day of the winter solstice, surrounded by her friends and family, as well as various Christmas decorations for the holiday. Suddenly, her frequency to her suit came on and turned to speaker. "Hello, Valerie," came the smooth, baritone voice she knew as Dan Phantom.

She startled, her fork clattering to her plate. Several others flinched. "What the—?" She pushed a button on her battle suit's arm. Her heart began to pound so hard that her fingers shook. "You again?" she hissed in anger. She had to act the part that she hated him. He probably knew that. "I thought you were gone for good. What do you want?"

"I know how much you care about Amity Park, Valerie." His voice was sultry and smooth, but it carried a tinge of danger and insanity, a tone that she had not heard in a very long time. "I'd hate for anything to happen to it."

Valerie's eyes flickered up to her colleagues. "I don't care how powerful you are, ghost," she snapped. "You can't break through the Shield."

He paused. "Until today."

For a tense breath, silence.

And then suddenly, a noise arose within the air that stopped hearts. It sounded like a wail of sorts, but the frequency was an all-encompassing echo—like a battering ram. Glass broke. The ground rumbled with earthquakes. The roof shook.

"Oh my god," Valerie breathed, teal eyes wide. She'd thought he was just joking. He wasn't. He was actively attacking them, and with something massive. "Oh my god! Everybody, get down to the shelters—now!"

The sirens began to wail as the automated defense systems triggered various transport elevators to the deep basements of Amity Park. That meant the Shield had been completely comprised, if it were not already down.

Most of the people were already moving, with the exception of her father, who struggled off the bench to stand beside her. She grabbed onto his shoulder to help him move along with the crowd. "Come on, dad. You too."

"No," he told her, voice rushed. "I'll be in the command center. You might need backup." A majority of the other active soldiers in the Resistance were also not heading for the shelters, but instead running for the armory. It seemed they all knew that this attack was too big for one person.

More tremors shook the floor, sending them both stumbling to the side. A few picture frames fell from the walls and crashed into glass shards. Valerie looked up at the ceiling, which seemed to waver unnaturally. The Christmas lights on the various trees flickered. "Jesus," she breathed, feeling her fear rise to almost a sense of awe. There was no way Dan had this kind of power.

They arrived at the hall leading out of the cafeteria. "Baby girl," he told her, voice rushed. "Be careful."

"I'll be fine," she said roughly.

His brilliant eye was misty with fear. In the background were distant explosions—likely the transformers of the Shield towers. "Don't underestimate this," he warned. "You understand?"

Her armored hands tightened a bit in the material of his uniform, and then she let him go, her heart pounding. "I know." Just because Dan had claimed affection for her didn't meant that Amity Park was any safer from him. "My comm is on."

And then she activated her jet sled and stormed by, streamlining herself to an emergency exit. "Oh my god," she whispered under her breath as the automatic doors opened for her. The outside of Amity Park was a disaster. Swarms of mothers and fathers were pushing each other to get their children into the escape pods first, all of them crying. The children, many still dressed in pajamas, stumbled in a sobbing daze of confusion.

The Christmas lights and decorations had fallen into clumps along the ground—and the proud Shield towers had all blown out, now smoking with licks of fire shooting up to the heavens.

Valerie activated the blaster at her hip, her eyes beginning to burn with real tears. This was her home. These were her people. Her armored hand clenched hard on the blaster's hilt. "Where the fuck is he?" she snapped to herself. She swooped up into the air, scanning for him. Her radar was buzzing with his energy—as if he were everywhere. "I'm gonna kick his ass for this!"

Her comm suddenly activated. "Valerie?" her father said tensely. "Can you hear me?"

"Copy that."

"I'm in the Control Room, tracking you now. Units Alpha and Beta are deployed and heading in your direction. Do you have a visual yet?"

"No," she snapped, growing more tense. He was hiding from her. "I can't get a reading; his power's fucking everywhere."

"I can't either." Damon's voice was a quiver. "None of our instruments are calibrated to measure these kinds of pressure waves."

Suddenly, the hair on the nape of her neck raised, and a storming cold seeped into her from behind. A terrible and familiar baritone voice murmured into her ear, "Like the new power?"

Valerie gasped, turning her jet sled and raising her blaster, eyes wide.

"I call it my Ghostly Wail," the ghost boasted as he materialized onto the human plane. He smiled at her, his thin lips stretching to reveal sharp fangs.

She shot him without thinking.

He batted the purple blast as if it were a puff of smoke, and the power seemed to shrivel within his hands. His voice dripped in dark glee. "Now, now, Valerie—is this any way to treat an old friend?"

Her breath hitched. The being before her was certainly Dan Phantom, with whom she had an even more complicated past than was natural. But he seemed heavily altered.

His clothes were different. Gone was his usual jumpsuit, and in its place were clothes fit for a king. He wore form-fitting black material, with silver buttons and threads and metal boots. Shining armor stormed down one arm, with spikes jutting from the plates. A silver cape fluttered about him. On his metal-lined fingers was a green ring. Atop his head was a flickering crown, which weighed down his hair and made it flicker about his handsome face. His glow seemed to stretch out several inches more than it ever had.

Phantom tilted his head. "What, have I made you speechless?" He waved his gauntleted hand to the mass chaos beneath them. "Or do you enjoy listening to Amity Park's screams as much as I do?"

Valerie's face twisted, and she lunged for him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

He blurred to the right, his baritone laugh a vibration into the air. "Decimating your little cocoon of safety, of course. The way your Shield fell—it was poetic. One by one, your tower gods lowered themselves to superior power."

She spun on her jet sled after him, re-holstering her useless blaster with shaking hands. It seemed Phantom had entirely forgotten about their past or his stint as the human D. The danger he was presenting to her own town now meant she could not afford to trust him. "Don't you dare hurt anyone here. Or so help me, I'll—"

"—What?" he challenged her. "Attempt to rid me with your pathetic weapons, obviously meant for such…lower-class pests?" His red eyes were dark with blood. "I am now King of the Ghost Zone, the disrupter of the previous order, Ravager of Worlds. There is no physical weapon that can stand in my way, with the power I naturally own and the power I have now inherited."

Beneath them, back on level ground, citizens were still clambering into the escape pods. But by now, the Alpha and Beta response units of the Amity Park Resistance had marched out, heavily armored with massive assault weapons. Among them were twenty brave souls, quickly heading to their location.

"Oh, look," Phantom called merrily. "You have a cavalry now, how delightful. Have the insects grown a backbone in my absence?"

Valerie swooped to place herself between her people and him, her fists clenched. With the Shield down and her weapons only questionable defenses against this super-powered Phantom, she did not want to risk pissing him off too much. "And what the hell have you been doing, huh?" she challenged, trying to turn his attention away from anyone but himself. "What's with the crown and medieval get-up?"

As expected, the ghost preened at the attention. He touched his crown, the green fire of which seemed to curl around his metal fingers. "It's called an upgrade. A royal one." He then waved his hand. "The Ghost King Pariah Dark is no longer, as I destroyed him and now have right to claim his throne. I am now your new lord and master, and I will no longer tolerate your rebellion against me."

Something about all of this began to feel familiar. Valerie recalled their conversation, when he had been disguised as D and had confessed his interest in the title of Ghost King.

"And is that why you're here?" she demanded. "To end us all?"

Instead of moving to attack, he smiled. His teeth glimmered sharply. "On the contrary," he said. "I've not come to fight you. I am here to offer you a deal."

She blinked. "…A deal?"

"Yes." The powerful ghost raised his hand, and within it began to glow a bright sphere of power. "The fact is, I could destroy you all in a simple blast now. It's a boring thought, from which I take no pleasure."

"How lucky for us," she said dryly. "Get to the point."

He gave her a dark look, as if to say, Don't rush me. "I have greater enemies and worlds to fight than this one. However, I need someone who can manage my empires and control rebellions while I am otherwise occupied expanding said empire." The hard steel of his gaze began to gleam in a different way. "You, Valerie, are the only being who has ever successfully defended territory against one as powerful as myself. This means you are the most fit choice. To be my queen."

Her face twisted, even as her heart pounded in realization. This was it. This was it. The whole of Amity Park had just heard Dan Phantom propose to her—in the most self-indulgent, self-satisfied, and entirely predictable way. "Why the hell would I join you?" she spat. "Your stupid empires can rot for all I care about them. Hell, I'm on the rebellion right now."

He smiled indulgently, his fangs glimmering in the light. "Oh, Valerie. Continue to fight me, and your miserable world will suffer a wrath it has not yet seen. Join me, and in return, I will guarantee you the one thing you want."

"Which is?" she demanded.

The king seemed almost careless about it. "The human world's freedom from my rule. It would be yours to manage as you see fit."

Below, those watching fell very silent, including even the civilians who had stopped entering the escape pods. Instead, they dared to witness what was an unprecedented interaction between Phantom and the Red Huntress—likely one to never repeat.

She swallowed hard, narrowing her eyes at him. "This world was never yours to begin with," she declared. "You can't give me something you don't own. And I'm not power hungry like you. I don't want to manage the entire human world. I want it to run itself."

A tic of irritation appeared in his face. She was making this far too difficult. "Regardless of our…philosophies, my deal with you would ensure your vision became a reality here." Something awfully demonic stretched his thin lips. "Unless you should desire that I use my power again and destroy your beloved world?"

The people below began to whisper.

"That's blackmail," she hissed in anger. "Not a good way to start off your new rule."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "It's not blackmail if it's mutually beneficial. Honestly, Valerie. You receive a safe world, and I receive your oath to uphold my empire. This is not rocket science."

She felt as if he could hear how hard and fast her heart was pounding. He probably could. "But that's not how you work. There's something else—something you're not telling me—"

Dan spun the ring on his hand, looking devious. "Hn. I suppose there are other duties that a queen usually has," he declared. "I'm sure if you think very hard, you can guess what they are."

Valerie swallowed hard, her face tinging pink in a blush. "Oh, come on."

He blurred forward. His fingers touched her face. The metal armor of his glove was burning cold, and she inhaled sharply in surprise. To those below, it looked like disgust.

Dan then grabbed onto her chin, not unkindly. "Despite your humanity, you are not unattractive to my eye," he murmured, his voice echoing loud enough for others to hear. "I believe I would enjoy you spreading your legs for me."

She almost trembled beneath his touch, frozen with realization. The small blush upon her face lit into a deep red that stretched up to her ears.

The cold December wind blew between them, ruffling his hair and cloak as he searched her eyes.

Valerie suddenly pushed him away, a bit shakily. "No," she said, voice tight. She felt a shame and embarrassment that everyone—including her father—could overhear. "No, absolutely not. Not that."

The ghost huffed in irritation. "And why not? It is an expected requirement of such a union. A physical transaction."

"I don't—I can't—" Words failed her as she stared at him. She should've known that Dan would make any proposal horrifying in some way.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "—Don't tell me something ridiculous, like your heart belongs to another." His voice turned mocking. "I've heard your lover sacrificed himself to save you. Perhaps you'd do well to follow such an example, and save your people."

Her hackles rose. "He's still alive, you know," she retorted sharply. "And don't tell me what to do."

Dan looked delighted in a sick way. "Still alive, you say?" he hummed. "My sources suggest that your wayward lover is, what, in suspended animation? As if your pathetic race can even control such technology. He is likely already dead in that tube. And even if he were not, he lacks the power to overcome his injuries. "

"That's not true," Valerie said, narrowing her eyes. She knew a part of this was a game. "He's not dead, and he can heal."

He huffed. "Be realistic. You know as well as I do that experiments can have detrimental consequences." His gaze turned a bit sly. "I've heard it was fusion technology, was it?"

"What's it to you?" she demanded.

He paused for a bit, as if thinking. "I desire your undivided loyalty to my cause. And your lover is likely preserved through the ice…" He raised his chin and declared, "If you agree to become my queen in every way, then I will save your lover by using my own fusion powers."

"…What?" she repeated dumbly. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means, my dear, that I can preserve your lover's mind, his active consciousness, by fusing it with my own." He sniffed. "A great sacrifice on my part to ensure your loyalty. You should be weeping in joy."

Valerie looked down at the vast crowd of civilians and soldiers still tensely watching their exchange. Everything she did and said would be measured by them. She turned back to Dan. "Fusing with him?" she demanded. "Why would I want you to fuse with him?"

He floated in front of her, voice mocking. "Because your precious lover would continue to exist through me forever, as opposed to being dead for all eternity. I would be able to access his memories as if they were part of my own." His eyes slid in a dark way over her body. "Do not make me spell out such benefits further."

The Red Huntress fell silent as she floated on her jet sled. Her face was still tinged red, and her lips were pressed tightly together.

Dan brushed his sleeve in a haughty way, still preening over his kingly clothes. "I shall give you one night to think on my offer, as you seem to be momentarily speechless—no doubt in awe of me."

"That is not what I—"

"—One night!" he warned. "I will return at this time tomorrow to accept your hand—or rid you and your people from my lands." And then he spiraled up. He swiped his hand across the sky, and a great portal swirled into existence.

The Ghost King Dan Phantom then disappeared, and the entire city still swarmed and smoked with his power.


Valerie, for a time, remained floating above the whole of Amity Park, stunned. Her mind raced as hard as her heart pounded. "Oh my god," she breathed.

Her arch enemy had torn down her Shield, ruined all of the Christmas decorations, and then—of all things—had the audacity to ask for her hand in a union.

Face still in blush, she looked down at her people, who were still standing in silence. At some point, the emergency sirens had quieted—Valerie couldn't even remember when that had happened. Several hundreds of people stared back up at her, as if expecting for her to give the next order.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped loudly, embarrassed. "You heard him. We're safe for today."

And then she swooped her jet sled around, feeling a weird mix between exhilaration and panic as the December wind struck her heated face. She pushed a button on her arm and activated her comm. "Dad?" she said. "You there?"

It was then she realized her father had left the resistance control room and had trekked to the front of the crowd. He wasn't even paying attention to the comm because his eyes were locked on her.

"Fucking hell," she whispered under her breath tightly as she caught his horror-stricken face. "This is gonna be bad. Oh, man."

She powered down her jet sled as she neared the ground and jumped off. Her armored boot landed on top a dirtied strand of garland. "Dad," she called out, reaching for him.

He reached out to her with deep panic. His one arm wrapped around her with a fatherly desperation, and he pulled his strong and tall daughter to him. He did not even care that the civilians and their military subordinates saw his moment of weakness. "Baby girl," he begged, sobbing for his daughter. Words failed him in horror as he stood in his invaded city.

Her eyes watered as she wrapped her arms around him tightly. "It's okay," she whispered to him. "Daddy, it's okay. I'm alright." She squeezed her eyes shut. "We're still here."

He pulled away from her, in that moment no more concerned for Amity Park than if it were an alien planet. "Don't take his deal," he begged her. "Don't let him touch you."

"It's gonna be okay, dad," she whispered to him, her voice wavering. "It's okay." The reality was that she wanted Dan Phantom to touch her, and that they had touched each other on a bed already, even if it were mostly during times when he had been in a human disguise. She hadn't thought about how hard any of it would affect her father.

Her father's body hitched, and he hid his face in her hair. "Don't do this," he pleaded. "Baby, you know what he is. He'll hurt you, and I can't—I—" his breath hitched. "Don't do this for us."

Valerie pulled away, gazing at the apprehensive faces of the people around her. To them, their entire livelihood stood in the balance of her decision. The safety and security of their children, their friends—all of it were the spoils in a much different war now. And it was not just for Amity Park, but for the entire human world.

Talk about a no-pressure proposal, she thought dryly.

Eventually she settled for a lame, "I'm thinking," in hopes of keeping her father from a heart attack while also satisfying the imminent fears of the people. She recalled her armor, allowing the plates to materialize back into her bloodstream, leaving her standing there in her army fatigues.

She could still feel the chill of Phantom's power deep in her skin.

Then she looked up at the cloudy skies, wondering if he were perhaps still watching from some distance. Likely, he was preening over his own chess game and thinking himself so brilliant for giving her the perfect excuse to say yes.

"I'm thinking," she said again, swallowing hard.

And for the first time in a decade, Amity Park stood battered and without a Shield—but otherwise whole.


That night was to be the annual winter solstice celebration, which kicked off the official Christmas holiday for most of the civilians. With the decorations ruined and spirits tense, the mayor cancelled the parade and recommended everyone remain inside, with strict orders to return to the underground bunkers by six the next morning, in anticipation of Phantom.

Valerie felt suffocated, damning her own sense of joy at his return while also fuming over the city's damage and the people's terror. Her father nearly refused to let her out of his sight, in fear that if he did, he would somehow never see her again. Paulina cried. Dash and several other soldiers began to arm themselves for a suicide battle, assuming that Valerie would ultimately decline the deal.

Fed up by late that night, she escaped from her father and headed deep into the Wastelands, mostly to think on her own as she stormed through the skies.

Dan had mentioned his great plans for kinghood and making her queen back in early March. He'd nearly seduced her right on that bed in the hotel, his human disguise so terribly natural and handsome that at times, she could forget his true power.

"When I said, 'Rule with me," I do mean it. And not at all in a wholesome way."

"I already said yes," she whispered to herself, almost frazzled. "The bastard's just milking it for all it's worth. Probably gets high off stressing me out. Sprung a proposal so fast just for effect. And he couldn't have done it without busting down the Shield—oh no, he's too much of a fucking jackass to not do it. Why the hell do I put up with him."

Just then, her armor beeped. She raised her arm in curiosity, pushing a button to reveal the small screen on her arm. But instead of a message from her father or another resistance member, she saw a set of coordinates from an unknown frequency. The coordinates pointed to a distant valley far outside the horizons of Amity Park and every other human stronghold.

She froze for a moment, pausing in the air on the jet sled. Then she adjusted her course toward the stated location, her heart beginning to race.

The coordinates had to be from Dan.


The secret location was a valley deep within the abandoned heart of the States, several hundreds of miles away from Amity Park. The limbs of the trees hung lower with snow, and the wreckage from one of Phantom's first rampages a decade ago completely hidden beneath the blanket of white.

"You slimy bastard," Valerie declared loudly, face in an unhappy twist.

A black shadow appeared before her, and it configured into the strong lines of Dan Phantom. "You rang?" he murmured merrily. He'd pulled off his crown and was toying with it in his hands. He'd also taken off his intimidating armor, leaving his broad form in the kingly clothes that Valerie dared to think handsome.

She pointed a finger at him and hissed, "I am so mad at you. What the hell did you think you were doing? I can't believe you! You leave for fucking ten months, and next thing I know, you're coming around here, ruining the Shield, acting like I should be so glad to—"

He blurred toward her at that, soundly pressing his lips to hers. It cut off her complaining into a squeak of surprise, and then a most delicious noise of want. He stretched her warm lips open with his own, deepening their kiss as he dropped his crown to grab onto her waist.

The ten months apart had worn hard on them both.

His hands stroked down the armor around her body in mourning that he could not get closer. And then he broke away and set his forehead against hers. His cool breath seemed almost warm compared to the December weather around them. "Yes, I missed you too," he murmured.

Valerie's eyes seemed a bit dazed now, her full lips gaping open from their kiss. Then she swallowed hard and shoved him away. "Don't try to skirt out of this one," she said, some of the heat in her voice lost from him kiss. "I'm trying to be mad at you."

"And why on earth would you be mad?" he asked curiously. "Did you not enjoy my plan? It unfolded swimmingly. And you, my dear, were an excellent leading lady—it's as if you forgot about my plans." He pouted suddenly. "I do hope you didn't forget."

She retorted, "I didn't forget; I just didn't expect you to…propose like that."

"Oh, but I had many angles to consider. As a result, your people now have a reason to encourage our union, and pending this fusion charade, we have a reason to openly express affection." He sniffed. "You simply do not appreciate my brilliance."

"It's not brilliance; it's stupidity, And Jesus, you were so crass," she snapped, face red. "My dad was listening. Everyone was listening while you were going on about bedroom duties!"

He took to the air in delight, sitting cross-legged as he levitated. "I know. I wanted to see that virginal blush of yours, and it did not disappoint."

If it were possible, she blushed harder. "I do not blush like a virgin."

"Yes, you do. I'll be terribly sad to see it go one day." He eyed her with great appreciation. "It's a horrible tension."

She narrowed her eyes.

It was beginning to snow again, and thick white flakes drifted from the sky. Valerie gave a frustrated huff because it seemed everything was in the mood for romance except for her. "And I can't just be all lovey-dovey after you wrecked my city today," she complained. "Did you have to tear down the Shield?"

He looked conniving. "Perhaps not, but you know. Dramatic entrances. Establishment of infinite power—I had to make it appear that a union with me was the only way to save your city." He brushed some snowflakes off his sleeve. "I did it all for your sake. I expect a thank you for all of my troubles."

"People could have gotten killed!" she pressed. "You're damn lucky no one did. And even with that, you've caused millions of dollars of damage."

He scratched his chin in thought. "I did? How delightful."

Valerie just gave him a dark look, knowing that he of course had a very small conscience if any. "And the Christmas lights," she added. "You destroyed those."

Dan began to fixate on her mouth, which was wide and full and so terribly attractive, even with (or especially because of) her sharp, silver tongue. "Yes, of course."

"And the Christmas trees with all of the little stars and angels on top."

"That was a must." He leaned forward in the air.

"And the cranberry garland and the gingerbread houses and the—"

He pressed a gloved finger to her lips, stroking the full line to shut her up. "—Perhaps, Valerie dear, I was making way for a new holiday."

His touch sent chills of desire down her neglected body. For a being of steel and no heart, he seemed to have peculiar control over every nerve in her body. "New holiday?"

"The day of our union, of course," he murmured. He unfolded his legs to stand before her. "You know how I generally despise Christmas, but the yearly ghost Truce is on the twenty-fourth. It would be most beneficial for us to have a ceremony then, as it is unlikely any mishaps can occur."

She paused. "A ceremony?" she repeated dumbly.

He nuzzled his nose against hers, his hand stroking down her chin to cup it. "There are certain things we must do to confirm our rulership together. An official coronation for us both." He brushed his lips over hers as he murmured, "Not unlike a wedding, I suppose."

The word wedding made her freeze—that this was real, that all of it was real. Dan Phantom was asking for her hand in the closest thing to marriage as he dared. She pulled back to look at him in a near-panic.

He caught the stiffening of her body and the tightness in her face. He searched her eyes. "Unless," he said hesitantly, "I have miscalculated, and you do not want any of this?"

Valerie paused again. "And if I said I didn't?"

"Then I would most certainly call you a hypocrite and a liar," he said firmly, "for accepting my proposal back in March and then denying me after my public announcement." His lips twisted downward. "It would be most difficult to undo what I've set forward, Valerie."

"And if I wanted you to?"

His red eyes narrowed a bit. "Are you testing me?"

"And I asked you a question. Would you undo all of this if I wanted you to? Or would you just force me to go through the ceremony at this point?"

The powerful being pulled away from her, an odd flicker of hurt across his face. Then an anger lit within him. "Do not trifle with me like this," he demanded.

"I don't like ceremonies," she whispered tightly. "You get stuffed into uncomfortable clothes and have to perform in front of people—it's a nightmare."

He crossed his arms. "I am afraid that the only way to confirm your legitimate rule is to do so by the ceremonial demands set forth three-thousand years ago. Unless of course, you would desire a much lower position like that of an escort, without any of the powerful benefits."

Valerie's face flamed. "I am not a prostitute, thank you very much."

Her anger inspired a twitch of his lips. "Then become my queen, and all that position entails. You already perform in front of your own people every day—what is one more silly ceremony, hmm?"

For a time, the two remained at an impasse. Valerie pressed her lips together tightly and said, "You're not going to stuff me in some god-awful poofy dress with boning and garters and big hair and everything, are you?"

Dan's lips stretched wide. "As much as that image delights me, I rather thought we could appear at the ceremony naked."

"…What?!"

His smile cracked into a laugh. "I am kidding, of course."

Her face had meanwhile turned fully red in horror. "You better be. Jesus Christ, you better be."

"But after the ceremony, when it is just you and I—" he moved in closer, his breath a soft puff against her lips— "I imagine there will be quite a bit of nakedness."

Her breath hitched with the concept of making love to him. Some part of her—fear of the unknown, of vulnerability—nearly hissed at the thought, whereas most of her ached in want. "You said the twenty-fourth?"

"Yes."

"That's Christmas Eve," she whispered. "That's only a few days away, and—and you still haven't even finished up this charade of fusing with 'D,' much less several months of planning and—"

"Do not worry about that. When you officially accept my proposal tomorrow, I shall have with me a clone of myself, in human form." There was a mischievous glint in his eye. "He'll be in a suspended animation capsule, and you and your good doctor friend will declare D dead. I expect you to weep over him as I fuse him back into myself—I imagine that would satisfy the expectations of your people."

"Oh, come on," she complained. "That's just self-serving."

He ignored her. "Regarding everything else, I am now the Ghost King, with thousands of servants at my beck and call. What I want shall be done." He gave her a look. "Although you will need an appropriate outfit for the occasion." His hands grabbed onto her hips and gently pulled her forward. "I'll need your measurements," he murmured, "to offer to the tailors. How do women typically measure themselves, hmm?"

Like this, their faces were only inches away. "You're planning something awful, aren't you?" she complained softly.

"Do you not trust me with such…intimate information?" he teased.

She narrowed her eyes. "You'd use that information to put me in some poofy, weird princess shit and make me look ridiculous."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, voice dripping in mischief and desire as he locked his lips over hers once more, allowing his hands to wander down the lines of her hips. Before long, he pushed her up against the trunk of a nearby tree, solidly pressing his hips into hers as he kissed her. "Your armor," he complained between kisses. "It's in my way."

Valerie leaned her neck to the side, her fingers weaving into his fire locks as he kissed her neck, just over her carotid artery. Likely, he could feel the quick pulse of her heart through his lips, which left her with an exhilarating excitement. "Too cold," she said breathlessly. But every nerve in her body was on fire, itching to shed her armor to feel his calloused fingers against bare skin.

He groaned against her neck, closing his eyes. "How then will I get your measurements."

"You could ask," she deadpanned.

She felt the slight pressure of his hands moving backward to stroke her back end. "I'd rather go by feel," he complained petulantly. "I do recall the rough size of your breast from that night we—"

Valerie's breath hitched. "—That's not how it works." She pulled away, nervous that if she didn't, she might give into his pleas and recall her armor.

"Oh, but it should be," he pouted. "I've longed to touch you again."

Truth be told, she longed for the same, having replaying that night in Eden several times over in her mind. She'd tried to recall the exact friction of his cold, calloused fingers. She could remember the exact weight of him as he'd sunk between her legs, his hips jamming into hers. She'd fantasized about what it might have felt like without clothes between them—if they hadn't been interrupted—

She began to feel a burning sensation between her legs at simply the thought. She swallowed hard. "That's still not how sizing works."

The powerful being gave her a pained look. They were so close and yet so far. "You torment me, Valerie. You truly do." And then he sighed dramatically and picked up his Crown of Fire from the snow. It was odd, to see him so careless with such a powerful trinket, as if it were no longer his focus. "Very well, I shall request you give me your measurements the old-fashioned way, which is likely less precise than my memory, I assure you."

Valerie looked almost frustrated. "And the outfit?"

Dan rolled his eyes. "No poof, no weird princess shit—I have not forgotten."

"Good."

His red gaze flickered to hers for a moment. In the snow, something about him seemed younger and lighter with ease. "You make everything so difficult," he teased softly. "Whatever would occupy my time if I did not have you."

A cold wind blew between them, ruffling her curls and chilling her even through her armor. "I don't want to know," she said dryly. "At least if we're together, I can keep an eye on you."

That inspired a genuine smile upon his face, which made him seem even more attractive in that moment. "Hmm, I like that idea very much."

In a blur, he appeared before her, stroking his hands down her face in curiosity of her warmth. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her lips once more. "I look forward to tomorrow," he murmured to her. "Merry Christmas, my love."

And then he dematerialized, leaving her breathless for air and shivering from both the cold—and the terrible, deep burn in her body for him.

To distract herself, she called out after him, "You can't say Merry Christmas! You ruined all our decorations, you bastard! Decorations that I liked!"

But only the wind responded.


The next morning, the dreaded Ghost King Dan Phantom appeared at the city limits of Amity Park, announcing his arrival by way of a great portal torn into the fabric of the dimension. He entered into the human world with a haughty sniff, gazing about the abandoned streets with all the broken Christmas lights from his Ghostly Wail. Behind him trailed a small group of subservient skeletons, carrying an odd, human-sized capsule.

Valerie stood at the end of the street, arms crossed and eyes hard. For the first time, she publicly stood without her armor in the presence of Phantom. She wore her standard army fatigues beneath a thick, black coat and a simple scarf. She wore no makeup or baubles to seem more attractive. If he wanted her, then she assumed he would take her as her natural self.

She caught only the slightest softness in his eyes as his gaze landed on her. And then a wide, dark grin split his face. "Ah, Valerie," he greeted. "You look ravishing today."

At a certain point, this was all game, and they both had parts to play. Valerie suspicioned that Dan enjoyed their deception even more than he let on.

"Shut up," she snapped. "I'm not in the mood for compliments." Behind and all around her, soldiers of the Alpha and Beta units of the resistance raised their weapons, training them on Dan's chest.

Valerie's taciturn attitude seemed to slide off his broad shoulders, as well as the threat of the resistance soldiers, and his grin stretched wider to reveal sharp fangs. He raised his hands, as if to show himself nonviolent. "Perhaps an insult, then?"

"I'm not in the mood for those either."

He hummed, tilting his head. "A pity. I was hoping we might practice our married-couple bickering." His red eyes flashed in a demonic joy. "But perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. Do you accept or reject my most gracious proposal?"

Her gloved fist clenched. "I know what you said," she called. "Before I say anything, I want to see him. D. I know you took him."

The powerful being searched her for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "It was only to expedite the process of ensuring your loyalty. I am aware of the bureaucratic red tape your kind wallows in.

Valerie huffed. Even in their game, he knew just the things to say to irritate her. "It's called common decency, not to kidnap people."

"Yes. That."

From behind him, several skeleton servants flew forward. Valerie noticed just then that upon their shoulders, they carried a long capsule—like a coffin, with a transparent top and blue-lit dials. She swallowed hard at the sight as they neared closer. She could see a familiar outline within the capsule. A clone of Dan's, in his human form. The ice crystals around the glass hid the details of his face.

Dan's voice cut into her thoughts. "I do hope you have a doctor or a healer here to verify I am in fact correct in my estimation that your precious lover is dead."

Valerie understood this was all a trick of the eye—a farce to ensure her own innocence while also publicly announcing his bid for her hand. But as she stared at the frozen body, she couldn't help but remember almost genuinely losing Dan—his body limp, eyes sightless—

Tears burned in her eyes as she looked up. "Dammit, show some respect, will you?"

Phantom raised a brow and placed his hand against his chest. "The fact that I have not obliterated him reveals my express reservation. Now, where is your doctor who can verify just how much you should bow before me in gratefulness?"

From behind her, Kwan appeared, looking tense as he carried a health kit in his gloved hands. As the only other soul who knew D to be Phantom, he seemed entirely uncomfortable with the position they had put him in. He gave Valerie a look before stepping forward again and saying awkwardly, "I'm here."

The new ghost king stared at him as if he were a rather interesting worm. "Ah, the good doctor." He waved his hand to the capsule. "Go on—deactivate the technology. And prove me correct."


Soon, Kwan kneeled down beside the motionless body of D for the second time, feeling an eerie sense of foreboding at the way the body's chest did not rise. The familiar, aristocratic features of D's face were still covered in ice crystals despite turning off the strange pod. The body wore the same jeans and dark jacket Kwan had come to know this strange side of Dan Phantom in. He did not understand how Phantom was doing any of this.

Only a small part of him understood why.

Valerie kneeled beside Kwan just then, looking tense with red-rimmed eyes. "Please," she whispered tightly, voice low enough that only he could hear her. She could see his wavering resolve. "Please, just do this."

Kwan gave her a pained look as he whispered, "Is this really what you want?" He pulled out his stethoscope, readying himself to listen to a heart that did not beat. "I can give you a way out. To say no."

Valerie paused. The cold wind blew across her face, ruffling her curls. It made her seem younger. "I don't want out," she whispered softly.

The doctor seemed to age in pain and exhaustion. "You know what he is. What he's done."

"And you know what he's becoming," she said, her voice breaking. She pressed her lips together. "Please. I already told him yes a long time ago."

Kwan's whisper was a hiss. "This isn't just a jaunt around town or a one-night stand. This is a union with the Ghost King because he just destroyed the last one."

Valerie's sharp jaw set, and she hissed back, "You think I don't know how serious this is?" She darted her eyes to their distant audience, including Phantom himself, who was staring with almost near-jealousy at how close she was to Kwan. He probably felt offended that she wasn't crying over his clone yet. "But dammit, Kwan, have some faith in me, okay? I know what I'm doing."

The doctor eyed his old friend warily, and then something gave way into defeat in his posture as he turned to the motionless body within the opened capsule. "I know, I know," he sighed.

For a moment, his eyes flickered up into the distant crowd, catching the eyes of Dan Phantom. The ghost seemed almost apprehensive, as if to demand, Do not ruin this.

Kwan looked away, unable to stare into red eyes for long. He muttered under his breath, "I guess I've lied for you guys before. What makes this any different."

The body of D did not raise with breath or beat with a heart, despite the capsule being deactivated. As the doctor pressed his stethoscope against the body's chest, he said to Valerie, "I'm going to pronounce him dead. If you want to make this convincing, then shed some tears or something."

Valerie gave him a dark look.

But as she stared at the motionless body of Dan's clone, she knew it might be the last time she ever saw the human face of Daniel Fenton, now that his usefulness had waned. She'd gotten used to Dan with black hair and blue eyes, in ways.

She blinked, a damnably, she began to feel a burn behind her eyes. "Dammit, Kwan," she complained softly for his ears alone. "I don't want to cry. I promised myself I wouldn't."


Dan floated a few inches above the ground, arms crossed as he watched Valerie touch her fingers to his clone in human disguise. Her dark, bare fingertips brushed dark hair from the clone's closed eyes, and Dan distantly felt her touch.

He closed his eyes, a wave of great need overcoming him. He had felt Valerie's touch last night through her armor, but this—today—her bare fingers were soft and warm. He could even feel her callouses, which were a delightful friction upon his temple. And then he felt her full, soft lips press against his brow, and then his cheek in farewell, as her fingers slid down his jaw. He opened his eyes to watch her. His dead heart swelled in desire for her.

And then Kwan turned around, looking convincingly grim as he said, "This man doesn't show signs of life, even with the technology reversed."

Dan blurred forward, a dark grin stretching his thin lips. "Ah, so the doctor does in fact agree that I am your only hope to preserve this man you love so much."

Valerie wiped her eyes, stepping back away from him. "Don't be disrespectful."

He tapped her nose. "As I am about to fuse with him, I would rather define it as self-deprecating humor." He then gently pushed her aside. "Now, allow me to get this over with so we can continue business."

The Red Huntress hesitated before the body of D, searching his eyes. "And if you fuse, you'll be able to access his thoughts?"

"Of course," the ghost waved off her fear.

"And he'll be…awake in you? Forever?"

Phantom rolled his eyes. "To the extent I allow, yes."

"And will you?"

His red eyes darkened in merriment. "To ensure your loyalty—yes." He then pulled off the glove on his right hand, looking to be in great concentration. He forced his fingertips to glow green and then placed them upon his clone's temple.

It was time for D to die once and for all.

The ghost king closed his eyes, his glow shuttering down the motionless clone. His thin lips stretched. "Ah, this human's memories—he is a fighter with professional training, is he not?" Before Valerie could respond, he added, "And the darkness in him. Perhaps we'll get along swimmingly."

"I hope he ruins you," Valerie hissed.

Dan hummed in dark delight. "I can already feel his relief that he will still see you through me." His face tightened a bit. "And I feel his desire for you." And with that, the clone began to fade out as if it accepted the command to reintegrate, the image of Daniel Fenton becoming more and more transparent until nothing remained of the human-looking body.

The suspended animation capsule was now empty.

Dan snapped open his eyes. He looked to Valerie, who stood with tears down her face. Despite losing any use with his human disguise, the advantage now was his ability to act in very D-like ways—and to be justified in doing so.

He touched his hand to the location of his power core, and he murmured, "This lover of yours carried many scars. I can feel them in my skin now."

She stepped forward, inhaling shakily. "Then prove he's with you. I want proof, and then I'll agree to be your queen." She swallowed hard, then added, "In every way."

Dan's dark brow raised up. He paused for a time, searching her eyes. They were still surrounded by a great many resistance soldiers, including her father, as well as several brave civilians. "Very well." And then his gloved hands moved to the silver buttons of his kingly shirt. "Your lover was shot several times to defend you." He unbuttoned the first, then the second and third. "He still carries scars down his shoulder and back."

Valerie's eyes widened as she realized he was undressing. He did so with such grace, chin lifted in the air, that it seemed entirely natural. He shrugged the black velvet of his shirt off his shoulders, revealing his bare, blue skin. "See for yourself," he challenged, his eyes dark with many emotions.

And there, at the top of his shoulder, was the bare hint of a raised scar.

Valerie swallowed hard. She knew Dan had maintained the scars from saving her—but it was still strange to see them in his natural form. She supposed it was a helpful deception for the masses, to think that the fusion was genuine and true.

She stepped forward. "Turn around," she whispered. "Please."

The polite request inspired a glint in his eye, and he complied. And there, in an arc down his back, were the starburst scars from the fusion bullets that had been meant for her.

Valerie pressed her lips together, her sculpted brows tightening together in a mix of joy and pain. There, upon that muscled back once so perfect was the proof that Dan Phantom had nearly faded out to protect her. That he loved her.

She reached out with her bare fingers, longing to touch his scars as she had done in the past. Her fingertips brushed against the raised and ruined skin, running down one of the scars in awe, and his muscles twitched at the feeling.

"These are his scars," she whispered.

He suddenly shrugged the sleeves of his shirt back on with a sniff. "And now they are mine." As he buttoned up his shirt once more, he turned around to face her. "Must you demand any further proof that I have not lied to you?"

The human woman paused. In that moment, she felt daring. It had always been an exotic pleasure to kiss his human disguise in public. She wondered now…. "No. I need one more proof."

Dan huffed at her. "Choose wisely, woman."

She stepped forward again and declared, voice hard, "I want you to kiss me, the way D kissed me. I want to know you didn't just…take his image somehow. I want to know he's still really in there, in you."

It seemed Dan had not expected such a demand. The king blinked. Then he flickered his red eyes to their vast audience. "You desire that I kiss you?"

"Yes. Exactly how D does." She stopped. "Or did. That's how I'll know."

The king paused and allowed himself the thought that it was entirely indulgent and exotic and seductive that she would demand such a thing. "Sometimes," he said, "I do like the way you think."

And then he stepped forward to bridge the gap between them, cupping her chin with one hand and planting a desire-filled kiss upon her familiar lips. His power core hummed in delight at the closeness once more. His free hand moved to her hip, just as he had done so many times as D.

Valerie opened her mouth to his, and he moved with her in an easy rhythm, then pulled away, his eyes closed to savor the taste of her. Oh, how he'd longed for her. It was all he could do not to grab her and kiss her again.

Her brilliant eyes opened then, her full lips still partially open. Her entire body felt as if the sun were bursting from her skin. When she spoke again, her usually harsh and raspy voice was soft. "Okay. I accept your deal."

The softness in him faded under his dark grin. "Very good." He touched his lips, as if in awe himself, and added, "To confirm your legitimacy as my queen, we must complete an official coronation together. It will blood bind us. Soon, I will send you documentation over the ceremony's specifications, as well as an official list of your duties. A contract, if you will."

"And if I don't like something?" she demanded, looking a bit vulnerable as she crossed her arms.

"Then we will discuss…viable compromises." He looked entirely mischievous, as if he were planning something all too good to ruin. "Meanwhile, expect the ceremony to take place on the twenty-fourth of this month. As you know, it's that wretched holiday of Christmas, and ghosts partake in a truce that night. It would be most beneficial to host a coronation then. I will handle all the details."

And then, before she could speak, the young and powerful king dematerialized into shadows before her, his essence slipping back into the portal behind him. His skeleton servants followed suit, leaving behind D's empty animation pod as the only proof that he had been there.

Valerie suddenly remembered to inhale.


Later that day, she received an unexpected gift from Dan. A portal opened up in the center of Amity Park, and by the time the resistance received the report, the portal had closed. And there, in the central park, was a great collection of boxes and silver-threaded bags.

Valerie hesitantly opened one of the boxes, and then her eyes widened. "Oh my god," she breathed. And there, before her father and several other resistance soldiers, she pulled out a strand of gold garland. She stood in amazement at the tribute, afraid to know whether the gold garland was actually made of real gold. Knowing Phantom, who demanded nothing but the best, it likely was.

Some of the civilians curiously peeked into the other boxes, calling out in amazement that they were seeing freshly cut pine trees, and a child tipped over a smaller bag, revealing perfectly constructed red bows.

One Damon Gray stood in the snow, stressed and confused by the events of the day—and now the incredibly odd realization that the mysterious group of boxes from the Zone were apparently all Christmas decorations. "What in the world is going on?" he demanded frantically. "Valerie, is this from him?" It bothered him to even say a name, still mostly in denial of what his own daughter had so quickly agreed to become.

Valerie was speechless for a moment, and then she retorted in wonder, "Who else do you know who can open a portal at will? Of course it's him."

In the center of the pile was a small box with her name handwritten on a piece of paper. The letters were bold and slanted heavily left—Dan's writing. Heart pounding, she opened the box, which contained a small crystal ornament of a star that glowed a bright white. She touched it and felt remnants of his power. It was a trinket he had made himself, from out of his own power. Beneath it was a small, folded note. For wrecking your Shield and the decorations you loved so much. I would prefer you not be mad at me on our coronation day. I suppose this is where I say Merry Christmas.

Her full lips twitched up, and some part of her cold heart melted. "That damn Grinch," she breathed in amusement.

Sometimes, she didn't know whether she wanted to kiss or slap him, and she had a suspicion that the both of them somewhat enjoyed the ambiguity.

Merry Christmas, indeed.


A/N: Happy holidays, everyone! After a rough year, I'm looking forward to this fun, three-chapter series as a continuation of the VALentine thread. Apologies if this first part was a bit rushed—I was trying hard to get it out before Christmas Day while having very limited time. The next installments will continue to revolve around Christmas, so we'll have a bit of an extended holiday celebration in Deliverance for this year. I've also noticed the increasing request for smut, haha, so this series is geared to have a little more adult-type touching. I hope you enjoy!

Thank you all again for your support and your thoughts over this past year. This upload represents the sixtieth installment of Deliverance—and even though the Dark Gray is community is small, we're mighty! I appreciate you all.

Please review with your thoughts, questions, constructive criticisms, and ideas. Thank you!