Disclaimer: I don't own DP.
Thanks to Invader Johnny, hrisi292, starwater09, Devious Purrloin (x21 reviews!), sharkyskadi, Yasz1221, KraZiiePyrozHavemoreFun, JadeliketheGem, Lady Audentium, ZoneRobotnik, monsta, SerasxAI, Guest, JNB, and Jj-dog for reviewing last time!
Sorry for the long wait in getting this chapter out. School started back up, and I've been a little sick too. But I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it!
Chapter warnings: Innuendoes, light descriptions of nudity/sex (especially in the beginning of the chapter) and language.
Deliverance
Chapter 62: Dan's Secret Wedding Plans Part 3, Epilogue
The next morning, the king awoke to the sight of his queen tangled in the bedsheets, still asleep. The green glow of the Ghost Zone highlighted the rise and fall of her breath. Her long leg peeked out from the edge of the blankets, her ringlet hair spilling over her shoulders. Her face was fully relaxed in an innocent sleep.
Dan did not think he'd ever seen anything as beautiful as her, and his thin lips stretched into a lazy smile. At last, he had dominated his arch enemy. Or she had dominated him. The previous night had been a little of both, which delighted him to no end.
Valerie must have felt his stare. Her eyelids twitched, and she groggily cracked open one eye.
A normal person would have flinched at the sight of Dan's red eyes and blue skin. Instead, she stared at him curiously, slowly realizing they were lying naked on his bed. On their bed, she corrected herself.
Her dark face heated with a blush as she searched his eyes.
And then he ruined the moment, complaining in a loud declaration, "I am cold." And the powerful ghost proceeded to unceremoniously roll on top of her with all of his weight.
Valerie's eyes widened as she wheezed out a breath, groaning. Dan's muscles made him a crushing force. "You oaf," she complained, making a face. "You're squishing me."
Dan nuzzled his cool nose into the hot crook of her neck. "And you are warm," he murmured in joy, sinking fully against her as he pressed his lips against her skin.
The human woman whined for a second, mourning her peaceful sleep. He was genuinely cold, having been out of reach as they slept. Her skin goose-bumped at the feeling. "Dammit, get off." She tiredly nudged him. Despite having made love to him, she still blushed when she felt every inch of his naked body against hers.
He did not move. Instead he remained as a dead weight on top of her, and he mischievously opened his mouth to lick up her neck. She suddenly felt his cold, wet snake tongue scraping up her skin, and she gasped in a squeal. It tickled. She squirmed beneath him, flexing her hardened arms to push him off. "You're gross."
With a quick nip to her neck, he slid down beside her. "I cannot help it," he declared airily. "I am drawn to your heat."
Valerie grabbed for the heavy, black blankets and wrapped herself up, shivering. "You're stealing my heat, that's what."
"And so you wrap yourself up?" he complained. "You do realize it is Christmas Day? The day to unwrap gifts?"
"I ain't a gift," she called out, voice muffled by the blankets.
A spark of mischief in her voice inspired Dan to climb on top of her once more, straddling her. "Oh?" He nuzzled his nose against hers. "Not from my perspective." His strong hands then grabbed onto the black sheets. "I do quite like unwrapping gifts."
She groaned. "You're not nice enough to get gifts to unwrap for Christmas."
He leaned forward and warned in her ear, "But I am naughty enough to unwrap things in my bed."
"I'm not a thing either," she retorted the blankets, her face already blushing between annoyance at his play on words and anticipation of what would happen.
"Hmm." He sat back on her, one of the sheets twisted around his waist. "Then what are you? I must know what I received on this Christmas day."
And then with a flick of his strong wrist, he pulled the sheet down from her body, his eyes holding her own. He watched her face redden as his hands fell away from the sheet to plant next to her shoulders. "Hmm, a woman," he murmured in appreciation, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against hers. "I've wanted this particular one for a while. And already naked—how thoughtful of you."
When she huffed, her breath puffed against his face. "I should smack you."
But she didn't, and instead Dan murmured playfully, "The instructions say to turn you on before engaging in such play."
"Your puns are terrible."
He ignored her, running his calloused fingers ran down her naked side. "But how do I turn you on?" His hand drifted farther down, pulling the sheets off of her waist. He was beginning to feel terribly aroused by her again. "I wonder," he said, his baritone voice husked, "if there is a button somewhere?"
Valerie swallowed hard as they held gazes, her face still flushing in delight as suddenly his roving hand slipped further down. He cupped her soundly between her legs, and as her skin goose-bumped, her blush stretched up to her ears.
"Ah," he murmured, thin lips stretching in a triumphant smile. "There it is."
She made a face of frustration and increasing need. "You're a jerk," she whispered, a little strained.
"Am I?" The ghost ran his fingers down the inside of her thigh, upon which she carried a heavy scar from where her battle suit had once buckled. "I once told you I would lavish you in pleasure, for every scar on your body." He leaned in, a bit mournful and devious in a way only he could pull off. "I am in more debt than I'd imagined."
Valerie pressed her full lips together as she searched his eyes. She did not feel an ounce of shame over her scars with him, whereas she'd tried her damnedest to hide them from everyone else. The way he stroked the off-color, raised scars made her spine tingle. "But you have scars too."
Down his shoulder and back were the bullet scars, which stood out starkly on his skin in the morning light. "A small penance to pay," he murmured.
She reached up and touched the tips of her fingers to just below the left of his chest, where his power core hummed. Her eyes locked in on a small, silver line that trailed vertically down his muscles. She hadn't seen it in the darkness of the night before, but now—so close—she couldn't miss it. "Where did you get this one? I don't recognize it."
He held himself over her, hesitating. He had not yet told her that he had willingly cut on himself to achieve victory against Pariah Dark, or that the cost had been his own ghostly immortality. "It is nothing."
Valerie searched his eyes for a second. Then her strong body tensed up at the core, and the next thing Dan knew, he was staring up wide-eyed at her from on his back. He blew some of his own flickering hair from his mouth. Now, she was on top of him, the sheets so twisted that it would take some time to untangle themselves.
He demanded, "What are you—?"
Her sharp eyes leaned a bit closer, her thick curls slipping off her dark shoulder to hang between them. "—It's over your core," she accused.
The ghost paused, bewildered. Her constant stroking of the scar was distracting because it felt so good, manifesting as tingles down his skin. "Yes?"
"You naturally regenerate most scars," she pressed, worried. "But you didn't this one."
Dan huffed out in amusement. He reached up to stroke her cheek, brushing back some of her curls. "I survived."
Valerie gave him a dark, worried look. "That's not the point," she said. "This—whatever happened—was serious." Her rough, raspy voice softened. "So what happened?"
For a time, they remained there, her long legs straddling him as she stared at him, stroking the line down his muscles.
The powerful being cupped his hand over hers, running his fingers down her scarred ones. "Why do you care about my injuries?"
Valerie hesitated. "For the same reason you care about mine." In the light, the raised lines on her shoulder stood out, marring the perfection of her skin.
Dan's red eyes focused on them for a time, and then he flickered his gaze back to her face. He didn't know if his injuries could ever quite match hers, which were deep in ways he still did not understand. As he caressed her fingers, his mind raced. "The battle with Pariah Dark," he said slowly. "was more trying than I'd desired. I would rather not speak of it."
The woman seemed to know that he was lying. Had the scar been from Pariah Dark, it would have healed the instant Dan put on the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage. Instead, the scar seemed surgical and precise, which worried her that he was hiding something significant.
She leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips. As she invited him into her mouth, he seemed to relax against her in relief. His hands came to rest at her hips, digging into the folds of the sheets covering her.
As she kissed him, she planted her hand over his core and listened to the feel of the hum, which was strong and wavelike, as it had always been. Not for the first time, she felt a terrible protectiveness over him.
Dan broke their kiss, his lips hovering near hers. "I like you worrying over me," he murmured, his hands running down her hips to feel the full curve of her thighs.
"Get used to me worrying," she warned softly.
"And I do like you on top."
This time, Valerie was the one to smile, a glint in her eye.
It took them far longer to get out of bed than Valerie would care to admit, their touches escalating into sweat and gasps once more. In an attempt to look somewhat more put together for the Amity Park Christmas Day celebration, the two of them bathed in the hot springs. Valerie seemed nervous as she washed herself, looking over her arms to scan for any bruises or signs of things that would worry her friends and family.
As she puzzled over a small bruise on her elbow—she wasn't even sure if it were related to their lovemaking or not—the ghost in question appeared behind her. "Why are you tense?" he murmured, running his wet hand down her bare shoulder.
She lowered her arm in a huff. "The party's already started by now," she complained. "They're gonna think I got murdered or something."
He leaned against her, gently grabbing onto her hips as he pressed his lips to the tip of her ear. His own worry bled away into a sick mischief. "Or that you got laid."
Her face blushed, and she hissed at him, "Dammit, I don't want everyone knowing that." She pulled away from him in a splash, running nervous fingers over her neck. At the base was a red mark where his mouth had loved her a bit too much. "I don't want anyone to say anything."
Dan's dark gaze roved over her. For a moment, hesitation flickered across his face. "Why? Are you ashamed of what we've done?"
"No," she snapped defensively. A strange red in her face suggested otherwise. "I just don't want people to think you hurt me or anything."
The powerful being seemed haughty and satisfied. "The little noises you make in the height of pleasure would suggest I did anything but hurt you."
"Oh, come on," she hissed in panic.
He merrily ignored her. "Or of how tightly you held onto me, or the way you grabbed my—"
She splashed him, eyes narrowed to slits. "—Shut up," she snapped.
He laughed, splashing her back in a large wave. "No! I shall declare our love to the skies, before all the world. And your precious Amity Park will not be horrified, but jealous."
Valerie sputtered out water and wiped her eyes to see him. Her face was twisted between irritation and some kind of awful amusement. Dan was being playful. He was trying to make her laugh or kick him, and he was quickly cruising toward both. "You bastard," she said tightly.
He leaned forward, his naked form engulfing hers. "Would you be so ashamed of us," he said, "if they were jealous?"
"It's not about making people jealous," she said flatly. "It's the fact that they're gonna look at me different. Especially because you told everyone in the whole damn town that we'd—" it still bothered her to say the word— "you know, do it."
He sniffed in a haughty way and pulled back, running his fingers through his wet hair, which flickered lazily around his hand. "If anyone looks at you the wrong way," he declared, "I shall burn them into dust and decimate their family line."
"That's not the right answer either," she deadpanned.
"Of course it is." Tangles removed, he then began to squeeze the water out of his hair. "You are the Queen of the Ghost Zone, and you are the federal queen of the Human World as well. I could find laws regarding the punishment for defaming you. Or we could make one, preferably execution." Something about his actions seemed far too domestic for the dark words that came out of his mouth. "Those insects are unworthy of your mercy if they think you somehow tainted."
Valerie crossed her arms, looking uncomfortable. She sunk back down into the waters to feel the warmth around her shoulders. "I don't wanna make a law like that."
Dan made a noise of complaint. "Then what do you want? Or do you think yourself tainted, and that is why you are so worried to face your people?"
She looked up at him in surprise. The truth was, she had never felt so good, being with him. Deep down, some restless part of her soul had quieted into contentment. "No," she said. She'd never been good with words. "It's not that."
He sunk into the waters before her, searching her eyes. "Then what is it?"
Valerie hesitated. "Guilt, I guess. For feeling good, while everyone else is worried about me."
"Hn." The powerful being moved closer to her, the waters parting for him. He brushed his nose against hers. "Do not feel guilt, love."
"Why?" she whispered.
He caught one of her long, dark locks floating in the water, and he curled it around his finger. The shining black of her hair glimmered like a diamond in the dark. Then he pressed his lips to it. "If they were truly so virtuous," he murmured, "you would not have feared telling the truth—that you could love me, and I you."
"It's not that simple," she said, pained.
The powerful being searched her eyes. He remained silent for a time, and then dared to say, "Perhaps it should be."
Later, Valerie appeared from out of the great portal connecting the castle to the edge of Amity Park. She had tied her curls in a low ponytail, her hair still wet from bathing and face bare of makeup. She wore a knee-length length tunic and dark leggings with her old boots, but the material of the cloth suggested the expanse of her new-found wealth. On her gloved hand was the Ring of Courage, and tied upon her belt was the Crown of Ice, for she didn't want to wear it in the presence of Amity Park.
By her side stood her wayward love, the Ghost King himself, wearing his highly ornate clothing. He very much desired to express his material superiority over the humans.
Valerie deadpanned, "Do you have to wear your crown here?"
Dan ran his gloved fingers through the flickers of his crown. "Of course." He slid his red eyes toward her. "The insects must bow in terror to me."
She blinked at him in annoyance, and in an instant swiped it off his head.
His glow dampened. He face-faulted, and he reached forward. "What are you—?"
The flames of the crown licked up her hand like silk threads in the wind as she held it out of his grasp. It was a strange, alien feeling compared to the Crown of Ice. "—They don't bow to you," she warned. "And today's not about terrifying people, remember?"
Miffed that she would take his power, he stepped forward, his brow angled in irritation. "Woman, that is my crown," he retorted, voice tensing. "Do not make me retake it from you."
"I'd like to see you try, sweetheart," she deadpanned.
For a heartbeat, the king and queen stood at odds with each other. Dan nearly stomped his foot in an increasing tantrum, his handsome face darkening. "How dare you attempt to micromanage my afterlife," he complained. "I have given you a position of great honor. I've pleasured you—" he waved his hand to the great shadows of the skyscrapers— "and even transferred our wedding gifs to this miserable city so you could open them with your precious friends and family. Why do you demand more?"
"Because this isn't some exchange," she hissed back, narrowing her eyes to slits. "You know how I feel about today. It shouldn't be a big deal for you to tie this thing on your belt and not wear it for a few hours."
"But I want to wear it," he snarled, increasingly irritated.
Her voice was short. "Why?"
In that second, a shadow of vulnerability passed through him. His red eyes searched hers. "Because we will walk through those doors," he said tightly, "and your people will all bow to you, and they will shun me. Likely, one of them will be tempted to break truce and attack me—I do not want a repeat of the last time one of your people wielded experimental technology."
Valerie fell silent at that, her jaw set hard as she stared at him. A great turmoil rose in her heart, which was that Dan had reason to suspect her people, who despised him greatly for his past sins. Her vision of Dan and her father sitting down together in peace was likely no more than a hopeless dream.
In a huff, she shoved the crown back against his chest and pulled away.
Dan just barely managed to grab onto the crown before it fell to the snow, surprised. His long fingers hooked into the metal rim, the fire flickering up his wrists.
"Fine," she said tightly. "Wear it if you're scared. But no threats, no demands that they bow to you—none of that shit."
His aristocratic nose wrinkled in displeasure as he hesitated to place the crown back on his head. "I am not afraid," he clarified.
"You just said you were scared."
"I did not," he huffed. "You are putting words into my mouth."
Valerie slid her eyes to him, a spark of mischief rising in her. "You know I'd protect you if a big, bad human decided to attack."
"Oh, shut up," he retorted, narrowing his eyes. He knew she was manipulating him. Damn that it was working. With a huff, he tied the crown to one of the leather loopholes on his belt, allowing it to hang from him as he had done in the past. "You are not truly interested in my safety and comfort—only that of your people's."
"That's not true," she said defensively. "I let you have my bed when you were still healing from those bullets. I gave you a fucking sponge bath."
The memory inspired his thin lips to twitch into a smile. "Ah, yes. How could I forget."
She elbowed him as they walked side-by-side through the empty streets of Amity Park. Her voice lowered into an accusatory whisper. "And don't try to tell me you didn't enjoy last night and this morning, because you know damn well you did."
His smile stretched wider.
She leaned in. "So don't say I don't care about you," she threatened.
Around them, all of the tall apartment buildings and businesses were silent, the Christmas decorations Dan had provided swinging softly in the wind. In the far distance was the sound of Christmas music, wafting from the city hall.
Dan's red eyes slid to hers in a spark of merriment. "You make a persuasive case," he murmured. "But you'd make an even better one if you whispered more about last night to me."
"…Don't push it."
"Even if I'm on my best behavior today?" he challenged.
"Please," she huffed. "Your idea of best behavior still involves embarrassing me and trolling everyone else."
His face split with a wide smirk.
The door to the city hall ballroom opened.
The Ghost Queen Valerie Gray entered first, her clothes rich and dark. She looked around almost apprehensively at the wide ballroom, where a good portion of the resistance and several civilians were mingling and dancing and drinking. A tall Christmas tree stood in the corner of the ballroom, boasting multicolored lights and Dan Phantom's golden ornaments of bells and stars. A multitude of gifts laid beneath the tree. A long table beside the tree held an extensive pile as well, most of the wrapping familiar—her and Dan's gifts from their union ceremony. On the other side of the room was a buffet and drink line, complete with desserts and alcohol.
After a few seconds of her standing there, the people began to realize who had arrived. Many people stopped dancing. Her father stood up from his seat.
Behind Valerie appeared the dark, tall shadow of the Ghost King Dan Phantom. He materialized into the full of his lithe form, clothed in ornate velvet. He raised his strong jaw in a judgmental way as he looked around.
Everyone stopped dancing and eating and talking then.
But Damon paid the ghost almost no mind. Instead, he stared at Valerie, his eyes watering up as he took in her flushed cheeks and wet hair and strong, sound limbs. Hs own proud stance faltered at the sight of her. "Valerie?" he breathed.
She watched him tensely, feeling awkward and somewhat out of place, until she saw him smile. It smoothed the exhausted lines from his face and lifted years off of him. She relaxed. "Daddy," she greeted, moving forward.
He walked toward her, his eyes set on only her in joy. And then he wrapped his arm around her tightly. "Oh, my baby," he cried softly. She smelled like flowers. Nice things. "Baby girl, you're okay."
"Of course I am," she said, voice muffled against his warm sweater. Her eyes burned. "Did you forget what I am or something?"
"No," he chuckled out between his hitched breaths. He pulled away, staring at his brave daughter in awe. He touched her face. "No, I didn't."
Dan had, meanwhile, shut the door to the outside and was leaning against it boredly, his face in a twist of discomfort at the spectacle of familial love. "Oh, please," he muttered. His baritone voice echoed heavily through the room, and the air seemed to crackle and darken around him. "She united with me of her own free will."
That broke the moment. Valerie closed her eyes, as if praying for strength, as her father flickered his good eye to the powerful being who, most unfortunately, was the closest thing to a son-in-law he would ever have.
His eye met Dan's red gaze, searching it. For a time, they held a silent conversation between them, during which Dan quirked a brow, and Damon narrowed his eye, attempting to measure the intentions of the ghost.
Something in Dan—perhaps the boy's obvious discomfort at being in Amity Park, or the "DV" insignia he now wore—inspired the father to grudgingly turn his eye. And then Damon turned back to Valerie. "Margie and her team made all of your favorite dishes," he said, guiding her toward the food table. "Are you hungry?"
Valerie rubbed her stomach, biting her lip. She hadn't had time to eat since the previous night. "Yeah, I am."
Slowly, the other people in the room began to return to their conversations and drinks, many of them waving to Valerie or saluting while still darting nervous eyes to Phantom. They figured if Phantom were going to attack, he would have done it already, which meant perhaps this strange deal—and the magical hold of D—was genuine. Valerie waved back, the remains of stress on her face relaxing into relief.
Behind her, one Dan Phantom stood with crossed arms, feeling left out and not the center of attention as he watched Valerie walk away from him.
And so he stepped down the stairs in a petulant air, blurring toward Valerie. He materialized beside her, then grabbed her hand, his cloak billowing behind him. Most of the other people around them scuttled away in fright. He declared loudly, "As king, I demand to partake in these miserable festivities alongside my queen."
Damon's jaw dropped, as did the jaws of several others in the hall.
She interlocked her fingers in his and bit her lip—she hadn't meant to leave him standing alone. "You can eat with me if you don't mentally or physically harm anyone."
His lips thinned, caught between dry amusement and irritation. "The mental capacities of your subjects are…already delicate. I cannot guarantee that the intelligent ones will not continue to cower before a superior being."
Valerie tightened her grip on his hand. "I want you to say you agree to my terms."
"Or what?" he challenged.
The woman raised her chin and said, "Or I'll drop-kick you out of here and open our wedding gifts myself."
The king gave an indignant noise, as if genuinely offended. "Woman, it is still the Christmas Truce. I would not harm a hair on the head of any of your subjects, lest I risk the wrath of far greater beings than even ourselves."
Those in the room seemed to exhale a collective breath of relief.
Valerie gave him a look, then said for all to hear, almost fondly, "You're so dramatic."
"And you, my dear, are so demanding," he declared. He then lifted his aristocratic nose, delicately sniffing the air. "Now what is this about feeling hunger? And what are these human foods you so favor?"
A merry, sneaky smile stretched her full lips. "Some of my favorite dishes," she said, "have bacon."
His flame hair began to flicker with a particular jaunt of interest. "…Do they now?"
Of all the things the old cook Margie never expected to do, it was serve up a food portion to the dreaded Ghost King Dan Phantom. She stared, almost slack-jawed, as the powerful being approached the tray line. Valerie led the charge, handing a tray from the top to him. The ghost then inspected it curiously, set it aside, and began to meticulously search for a cleaner one, which inspired Valerie to roll her eyes.
Then the dreaded king peered over the food counter, his cloak spilling over his broad, muscled shoulder. He leaned his head against Valerie's in a way that seemed almost loving. "What do you suggest?" he murmured to his queen.
Valerie looked a bit nervous about the display of affection as she looked to Margie and noticed the woman's odd expression. She gave a tight smile. "Uh, um. H-hey there, Margie."
"Deary," the old woman greeted her hesitantly. She swallowed hard as she dared to look at Phantom, who stared back at her with those sharp, blood-red eyes that had inspired the nightmares of millions. Strangely, she found no hatred in him—only a curiosity that gave him a handsome, and oddly familiar, air. "What c-can I get you two?"
Valerie spoke for them. "We'll have the same thing. Can we get the bacon-wrapped scallops? And a baked potato—"
"—with bacon on that as well," Dan cut in. He hadn't indulged in his enjoyment of human food in over ten months.
Valerie's lips twitched. "With bacon on that. And chives. And then the green beans, and…" Her teal eyes roved over the collection of fruits. A genuine smile stretched her face. "And the kumquats, please."
Dan's brow angled. "Kumquats?" he repeated, almost in disbelief.
"My favorite fruit," the powerful woman said merrily. "And not just because of the name. Trust me—you'll like them."
"Hn. We shall see about that." He stared at the small, orange fruit almost suspiciously, it having been something that he'd never tried, even in life.
The cook dished them up, her old, wrinkled hand trembling slightly as she set food on their plates. "W-well, I hope you both enjoy the food." Her voice wavered. "Congratulations on the…union."
It was the first time any other human being had offered such a blessing. Valerie's beautiful face stretched into another smile, this time with a spark of gratefulness. "Thank you, Margie."
The words inspired Dan to look over the old woman again. The last time he had seen her, the lines of her face were not quite so deep. Time had not been kind to her, but he found himself curious of her still. "Why do you congratulate us," he asked, "when the rest of your species would far prefer to say the opposite?"
Margie paled at being directly addressed. Her voice shook. "Because you got D with you. And I liked that boy."
"Hn." The ghost searched her eyes. "I remember you from his memories."
"You do?" she whispered.
His lips stretched into a wide, dark grin. "Yes. You expressed relief that D was looking after Valerie, protecting her from that stalker." He tilted his head, and his flame hair flickered around his face in a handsome way. "D very much liked you."
The old woman's face twisted with a bit of pain. In that second, she could see the spirit of D shining out from a being who had killed her own granddaughter long ago. "D was a good man."
Valerie began to pull on Dan's arm, looking a bit nervous that he was about to cause some kind of scene. "Ok, Margie's a busy woman—let's go find somewhere to eat."
Dan did not budge. Instead, a mischievous glint appeared in his eye. "But I was having a pleasant conversation with her. She said I was a good man."
Valerie grabbed onto the collar of his cloak to drag him along. "She didn't say you were."
Dan made a comical face at being choked, and he slowly began to follow her. He still called back to the old woman, "Do save some pieces of bacon for me, Margie—I've had quite the appetite for it as of late."
Margie simply stared at the sight of Valerie dragging along her arch enemy by his collar, and she barely managed a nod of compliance.
She was not the only one to suddenly wonder what to think of this strange being, who carried the demonic face and vocabulary of Phantom but the endearing habits of Valerie's old boyfriend.
Valerie found them a table near the Christmas tree, which largely distracted Dan from trolling an old cafeteria lady. As he held his tray of food, he looked up at the tree that he himself had provided them. "Will you look at that," he murmured. "The lights are not crooked. Valerie, I do say—whoever placed these lights actually did a good job."
"Oh, good," the queen said in amusement. "I'll be sure to tell Paulina you said that."
His red eyes slid to hers in surprise. "Paulina?"
"Is it really that shocking?" she said as she sat down, grabbing her fork and digging in hungrily. "Paulina loves to decorate things." She stuffed a full, bacon-wrapped scallop into her mouth.
Dan set his tray down and followed suit, readjusting his collar before he sat down gracefully. Then his eye twitched as he realized his seat was uneven, one of the wooden legs not quite reaching the floor. "And yet the signature of human imperfection remains," he muttered under his breath. He dared to wiggle on his chair a bit to showcase its slop to Valerie.
She was still chewing on a scallop and so merely rolled her eyes. After she swallowed, she said, "We'll open all those gifts from the ghosts soon—and then you can complain about ghost imperfection. How about that?"
"I do love complaining," he said, still a bit disgruntled over his chair. "But I'm sure their insipid gifts will not present much more intelligence than this workmanship your people dare to call furniture." Not wanting to fix the chair in his good clothes, he therefore huffed and grabbed his fork, hoping that the taste of bacon would distract him. As he popped a scallop into his mouth, he caught the sight of one Damon Gray approaching.
The older man looked skittish as he approached with a glass of water, as if questioning his every step. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me," he said. "Can I…join you?"
Dan's face nearly faulted, but Valerie smiled. She cut in before Dan could and said, "Sure, we don't mind at all." She bit her lip in excitement. "We want you to sit with us."
"We do?" the ghost complained.
Valerie gave him a look and patted the seat next to her. "Yes, we do."
The father tentatively set his water glass in the table space beside his daughter. "I'm going to get something to eat, then. And I'll be right back." He looked over at Dan and blinked. "Are you actually eating our food?"
Dan twirled his fork delicately. "Yes," he declared. "Valerie dear has been introducing me to the many pleasures of the flesh."
Damon nearly choked on air. "What?"
Valerie slammed down her fork in embarrassment, her face flushing. She kicked Dan beneath the table and gave him a hard look. "What he means," she said tightly, "is that I'm encouraging him to try different human foods, since he likes bacon so much."
Said ghost hardly acknowledged that she had kicked him, but instead raised his chin with great petulance. "I meant what I said."
The father looked from Dan to Valerie, then back to Dan. He had the sinking suspicion, not for the first time, that this Phantom was heavily altered. Ten years ago, the young ghost would have razed the city to the ground, truce or no. He would have killed everyone and laughed at the screams of terror. Damon knew at an intimate level the measure of the past Phantom's insanity, having lost his arm and eye to the maniac.
Now, this being who sat with his daughter had merry eyes and a smart, wicked mouth. He ate of their food and teased Valerie with a relentless energy in the spirit of her old boyfriend. Phantom still maintained some element of his darkness, but it was muted by the light of his actions and the way he bickered with Valerie like they were an old couple.
Damon gave him a suspicious look, more confident in doing so, then turned away to grab food.
As he walked away, Valerie kicked Dan again beneath the table. "Are you trying to kill me?" she hissed. "Death by embarrassment?"
This time, Dan's face twitched in pain. He leaned down to rub his shin. "If I kicked you like this," he muttered, "you would cry abuse."
"Answer the question," Valerie whispered hotly.
"Physically and mentally abusive now," he said dramatically, raising a brow at her. "My, my, Valerie."
She pursed her lips, her eyes flaming like coals. "I hardly kicked you," she hissed.
"You're wearing steel-toed combat boots," he deadpanned.
Her face twisted. "And you're just whining for attention while embarrassing the hell of out me. Stop it."
The powerful ghost opened his mouth to object, but then realized that Valerie had quite solidly nailed down his master plan for the day. He shoved some of the bacon and chive-studded baked potato into his mouth and gave her a cheeky, close-lipped smile.
The image of Dan attempting innocence melted the irritation she had against him, and she gave him a pained look. "You're hopeless," she said. Then she grabbed for the kumquat on her plate and bit into to hide the remains of a blush on a face.
Dan swallowed down his potatoes while he watched her. He looked down at the kumquat on his plate as well, feeling challenged by its existence. He grabbed the fruit and spun it in his hand, still suspicious. "And you are very strange. You eat this…kumquat with the peel on?"
"…Yep," she said dryly as she bit into hers again.
"That's quite odd," he murmured. Seeing that she was eating the peel and not suffering any adverse reaction, he opened his mouth, revealing the tips of his sharp teeth. He sunk his fangs into the supple flesh of the fruit, eyeing Valerie in hesitancy.
Almost immediately, his elfin ears perked up, and his eyes widened in interest. He ripped off the piece to chew thoughtfully. So enamored with the citrusy taste, he missed that a trail of juice had run down the side of his chin. "Mmh."
Valerie bit her lip to hide a giggle at his childish expression.
He spoke, his voice still muffled with food. "These are quite delicious. Sweet and sour at the same time." He swallowed and then hummed again. "Like you."
"Are you trying to suck up by saying you like my favorite fruit?" she deadpanned.
His lips stretched. "I'm not sucking anything yet."
She face-faulted. Then she grabbed her napkin and fairly stuffed it in his mouth, to his surprise. "Suck on this," she said primly. "And wipe up that drool down your chin."
He gave an indignant noise, forgetting that they very much had an audience. He pulled the napkin out of his mouth, and then he dabbed at his chin delicately. "It is not drool; it is the juice of the kumquat."
"Whatever."
"Honestly, Valerie, you are so easily offended, and your mind drops so easily into the gutter."
"Oh? And what the hell am I supposed to think when you start talking about sucking?"
He licked his lips, and the edges of his snake tongue flickered out merrily. "What do you want me to think when we discuss sucking?"
Valerie suddenly got an image of them both back on a bed, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "No," she said firmly. "No, no. No more trying to entrap me."
"It was an innocent question, Valerie dear."
"There is nothing innocent about you," she hissed, opening her eyes to glare at him.
He looked devilishly pleased. "Not anymore."
Around that time, one Damon Gray returned to the table, looking a bit more determined as he held his tray of food in his hand. He set it down beside Valerie, giving Phantom a hard stare. "Now, I want to make something clear," he said stiffly, sitting down in the chair. "You might have D somewhere in that head of yours—I'm beginning to think you do—but you're not the only one who wants to spend time with Valerie here."
Dan met the father's stare coolly, even as he bit into the fruit once more. "Is that so?" he said, voice muffled.
"Yes," Damon said, narrowing his good eye. "The fact is, she's my daughter, and I love her very much. I want to be a part of her life. And I'm going to be."
The powerful ghost lowered his fruit. "Oh, come off it, Damon. You know as well as I that Valerie is impossible to control. If she desires to see you, she will."
"And I do want to see him," she cut in, looking between the two men, fully uncomfortable that they were discussing her.
"Good," Damon said. He looked away from Dan and then began to eat his food with a bit more of a relaxed stance, as if he had finally accepted that D and Valerie had tamed Phantom. "Now, when are you two gonna open up these gifts from your ghost friends? They're taking up valuable tables other people could be using, and I want to make sure none of them are actually dangerous."
She stared at her father, then Dan, in surprise. She tightened her grip on her fork in a hesitant fear that this truce wasn't at all real. She wanted it to be real so badly. "We could, uh, open them now?"
Dan looked a bit disgruntled at being rushed with eating. "I have not finished my bacon," he complained.
"We can open them between bites." Valerie wiped her hands on her napkin, only to remember that it had been in Dan's mouth, and her face twisted a bit before she then wiped her hands on her soft leggings. She stood up from her seat and peered at the nearby table. There were at least fifty gifts, if not more, in different shapes and sizes. The wrapping on most of them seemed innocent enough—some wrapped in furs and leathers, others in simple paper.
As Valerie debated on which one to open first, a tentative Paulina suddenly approached from the other side of the gift table. "Chica?" she called softly.
Valerie looked up and then smiled at the familiar face. "Paulina. Hey."
She looked worried as she leaned over the table and whispered for Valerie's ears alone, "Are you…you know, okay?"
The other woman blinked. "What?"
"You were nervous last night," Paulina pressed. "Did you two do it? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?"
Valerie looked overwhelmed for a second, a blush tinging her face. "I'm, uh, I'm fine."
Paulina's baby blue eyes searched hers hard. It looked as if she had worry lines for a second. "You're not trying to hide something? You're good at hiding things."
"I promise," Valerie whispered, nervous that someone could overhear and that Dan or her father would start an argument while she was gone. "I'm okay."
Paulina looked over at Dan, who was pointing to something on Damon's plate—and then the ghost unceremoniously stuck his fork into the man's coleslaw and ate of it merrily, with Damon's jaw dropping in horror and shock. "So you guys did it?"
Valerie pressed her lips together and nodded, looking a bit skittish. "A couple times," she whispered. "But I can't really talk right now—I gotta get back."
"But he treated you good, right?" Paulina begged. "Tell me he made it good for you."
A flash of a memory, of his snake tongue licking up the side of her ear as he made love to her, suddenly colored her face a deeper red and sent a spike of emotion down her spine. Valerie was at loss for words, feeling awkward at the thought of talking about such things, even to someone like Paulina, who had a massive reputation for all of her bedroom tricks. "I'm not gonna talk about that right here," she finally stuttered back.
"But you will eventually," Paulina said, eyes wide. "Right? Can we have a girl's night? Can you get away for a girl's night, or can I come visit you in that castle thingy, because oh my god, chica, I saw your ceremony last night, and you really looked like a legit queen, and everything about it was so—"
Valerie grabbed a random present, laughing nervously, and began to walk away quickly.
To her horror, Paulina walked around the table and began to follow her back to where Dan and Damon sat.
With every minute that the infamous Dan Phantom did not attack—but in fact implicated himself as simply an arrogant smartass with a penchant for human food—it seemed the people of Amity Park grew more curious of him.
"Oh, please," Dan was saying to her father, his brows knit in a line of irritation. "I did not once force your daughter to lay with me."
Oh my god, she thought in panic.
"You guys better not be talking about me," Valerie cut in shortly, hoping to keep them from an argument—especially if they were arguing about Dan forcing himself on her. Behind her, the tentative form of Paulina peeked big eyes over her shoulder, as if any information about Valerie sleeping with Dan were the greatest piece of gossip to be had.
"We are most certainly talking about you," Dan cut in, not looking away from Damon. He looked as if his hackles were raised, tensely holding onto his fork. "And of your natural and willing attraction to me."
She slammed the gift down on the table, and the sound made several people around flinch. Her face darkened. "Dammit, I don't need either of you to act like this." She looked at her father first. "Dad, I'm fine. I made a decision. I made it." Then she looked to Dan, and her gaze grew even more unsettled with irritation. "And you? Just don't even start." She pushed the package to Dan, who instinctively caught it, eyes wide. She told him, "Now be useful for once and open that."
Paulina sat down on the free chair to the right of Valerie. "Ooh, but we have to save the tag so that you can, you know, send out thank you cards just like a real, married couple. I have this beautiful silver stationary you can use too."
Dan leveled an annoyed eye at Paulina, even as he began to tear the wrapping off the package. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm the queen's best friend," Paulina said, not even blinking as she pulled a festive pen from her curly ponytail and a pad of paper from her cleavage. "And sometimes her secretary because writing things down and listening to her complain is my specialty. Now, who is that gift from?"
The powerful ghost narrowed his eyes at her, bristling at the way the bimbo shoved herself into their lives. He knew how much the insect meant to Valerie—but it still required an incredible amount of self-control not to blast Paulina into pieces. "…My ally, who is called the Fright Knight."
Over the course of the next hour, Dan and Valerie opened up their various gifts, with Paulina scribbling down the names of the ghosts and what they had given. From the Fright Knight, they had received matching daggers forged from the same, precious metal as that of their crowns. Technus had gifted them with a portrait of himself, ghost-proof handcuffs, and a small device Valerie could use to traverse the human world and Ghost Zone without Dan's help. Valerie thought the device quite clever, until she realized that Technus likely had a backup for himself. She blushed at the handcuffs, having terrible thoughts about what she could do to Dan with them.
For his part, Dan took one look at Technus's portrait and stuffed it into the Christmas tree beside him. "Typical as ever," he muttered. "Both arrogant and useless." He then picked up the handcuffs, which gleamed with some odd technology, eyeing Valerie. "Although perhaps not entirely."
Of curious note were the gifts from Aragon, the prince of a far-distant lair modeled after a medieval kingdom. Valerie received shoulder armor made of dragon scales, which gleamed a midnight black and blue in the fluorescent lights of the room. Dan had received a matching set, and the two of them stared at each other in mischief for a brief second.
Many of the other gifts were smaller things: a history of the Ghost Zone from the Ghost Writer, priceless silk dresses and sashes from the Princess Dorathea, ancient gold coins from Desiree, beaded Egyptian jewelry from Hotep-Ra, and possibly the fluffiest pillows Valerie had ever seen from Nocturn.
But as the gifts dwindled down, Valerie came across a strange package. It was a small, wooden box with their names in calligraphic writing. "From the realm of the Far Frozen," Valerie murmured as she read the label. "Isn't that Frostbite's land?"
Her father leaned forward in his chair. "That was a package we found at our doorstep early this morning," he offered, munching on a cookie. "Must have been a late gift." His tense shoulders had relaxed, and he seemed excessively more comfortable shooting Dan dark looks from time to time.
By now, many others of Amity Park had crowded around, munching on desserts and drinking wine in curious silence at the unwrapping of the ghostly gifts.
Dan leaned forward in curiosity. "Do open it. Frostbite is not an official ally of our empire, but this might be his request to become a part of it."
The wooden lid came off easily enough, with Valerie and Dan staring down.
Silken blankets covered the contents of the box. As Valerie pulled off the first layer, she came across a small, threaded booklet with quickly scrawled text. The front of it said, For the Queen. My people's knowledge on the Crown of Ice and Ring of Courage. It appeared to be written by none other than Frostbite himself, with an additional note that he would arrive to further train her upon her request.
Valerie's eyes lit up in a damnable way as she raised a brow at Dan. Her full lips stretched. "Well, well," she said playfully. "If he's not your ally, then he's definitely mine."
The ghost's face tightened, almost in jealousy. "What have you done to win his favor? You've said hardly five words to him."
She flicked her low ponytail. "Maybe he just likes me more," she mocked, delighting in Dan's face-fault, and then his huff. "Not that it's hard to do."
But as she pulled away the folds of the blanket to unpack the rest of the gift, her smarmy expression fell into that of surprise. From out of the blankets, the queen held up a white baby outfit, a deep disquiet sinking into her bones. "Oh," she said softly. Her scarred fingers lowered the clothes back onto the table. The threads lining the clothes were silken and gold and quite beautiful, the white shirt and pants appropriate for a newborn child of any gender. It all seemed so tiny in her hands. "Baby clothes."
Dan looked fully stricken as he stared at the clothes, as if in disbelief that they existed in his afterlife. He looked up at Valerie, who stared back at him with a similar expression.
In that moment, a great emotion overcame the ghost, unsettling the relaxed lines of his body into pain. His face darkened, and he pulled off the crown on his belt with a sharp inhale. "Why," he seethed, "would that incompetent beast send us such a gift?"
Valerie, knowing Dan's sore nerves over not being able to create an heir, worried he might snap and hurt someone. "It's not a big deal," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. She set the baby clothes down, then moved them behind the box so Dan could no longer see them. "Maybe he just doesn't know."
Dan looked almost incredulous. "How could he not know?" he demanded. "Everyone knows. Everyone but him."
"Know what?" Damon dared to cut in, looking a bit ill at the sight of the baby clothes.
Most everyone else had frozen in suspense. Phantom's body seemed to shift the shadows in the room, as if they were responding to his every dark thought. It made him regain a spark of his old insanity.
His hand clenched hard, and he gritted his teeth, baring a white fang in near hysterics. Then he grabbed for the box. His fingertips glowed a hard green, and suddenly he wrenched the box from the table, and it crashed to the ground, strewing the baby clothes across the floor.
"Dan—!" Valerie called out, reaching toward him.
Without a word, he suddenly materialized into nothing, his lithe form disappearing as a wisp into the air.
The others in the room suddenly feared that Phantom had just changed his mind and was going to kill them all. They began to scatter away in increasing nervousness, looking to Valerie.
"Shit," she said under her breath, her heartbeat rising. She pulled off her crown from her belt and hesitantly set it upon her head, thinking she might need the power boost to stop him. Immediately, the Crown of Ice took hold, its force sinking deep into her blood and bones. Her dark skin began to glow like that of a ghost's, and her battle suit activated.
As the panels swept over her body, locking into place, the people of Amity Park backed away at the altered sight of their Red Huntress. Her battle suit had darkened to black with a greenish glow. Her crown's outline had melded into her helmet as if they were one, the lines reconfigured to arch up like dragon talons from her head, and to trail down her cheeks like wings. Her shoulders were more heavily armored. And beneath it all, there was a presence—as if the crown had sparked some kind of mild sentience into her battle suit.
It was not a malevolent sentience, but a chill crept up Valerie's back. She looked down at her black-armored hand and turned her fingers. The metal clanged sharply.
And then she blurred into near-invisibility, moving so fast that she hardly felt the black jet sled form beneath her, its edges sharper than ever. "Where did you go," she murmured in worry under her breath.
To her surprise, she didn't need her Phantom Tracker; through her altered suit, she could feel the pulse of his Crown of Fire. His power had stretched deep into in the heart of the Wastelands, which Valerie knew to be uninhabited. A small relief relaxed her as she streamlined into the wind, surging hundreds of miles per hour, her armor holding strong.
December snow blanketed the whole of the horizon in white, which made the journey seem endless—as if she were hardly moving—
—But soon enough, she found him. Phantom stood at the edge of a deep cliff side, the cold winter wind whipping his flame hair about his face. He wore his Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage, his eyes lit with the power. It was at that time Valerie realized the chasm between the cliff and the other side had widened. Dan had already unleashed a great deal of energy.
A part of the cliff in the distance crumbled further.
"Are you always gonna run off whenever you get upset?" she deadpanned, dropping down from her black jet sled. The sleek contraption remained in position, humming with unnatural energy.
The Ghost King did not look back at her but instead continued to stare out across the cliffs. His voice was tight. "You wear your crown and ring against me?"
"…Well, yeah." She stepped forward. "I didn't know what kind of mood you'd be in." She paused, staring at him hard. "I still don't."
Dan huffed as he turned around with a tired expression on his face. "I very much desire to test the limits of your power, but not like this. Leave me alone."
Feeling odd, she pulled off her battle helmet, curious of its new design. Her thick curls—still a bit wet—spilled down her shoulder as the glow dampened around her, the power of her crown diminishing. "No," she snapped. "You look like you're two seconds away from a breakdown or from killing people. And I don't like the idea of either one."
His red eyes, the color of a sweet red wine, darkened. In him was a great emotion that threatened to spill down his face, and he looked almost ill with it. "Do you care?" he demanded roughly. "You so easily dismissed Frostbite's slight. And the clothes. And—" his throat tightened up. He could not even say the name of Jax, a baby lost in the timestreams of another dimension, who wasn't even his but was in all the ways that counted. By now, he assumed Jax would be almost a year old, providing there weren't time slippages between the worlds. Providing he were still even alive.
Valerie's face softened. She dropped her helmet in the snow and reached out to him. "You know I care."
The Ghost King, for all of his power, embraced her like a drowning man would. He leaned his cheek against hers, pulling her close.
Her sharp, armored fingers ran down his neck and through the loose, flickering strands of his hair. Like this, Dan Phantom was oddly soft, even his clothes a smooth velvet, whereas she was sharp and metal.
For a time, neither said a word.
Valerie's natural body heat had radiated into the metal of her armor, and Dan closed his eyes, expression haggard.
The powerful woman softened her voice and spoke against his ear. "There's nothing wrong with missing him." She continued to run her fingers through his hair. "It means a lot that you do."
He grumped against her, but it was rife with pain. "Does it? I very much desire to rip Frostbite's throat out for gloating over my loss."
"He doesn't seem like the gloating type," Valerie said softly. "Even if you're right and he did know, I don't think he'd pull that kind of stunt."
"Oh, please," the man huffed, his voice strained. "You don't know the bad blood between us."
"He helped you find my crown, didn't he?"
Dan fell silent, petulantly leaning his cheek against her shoulder. He felt almost distant with reality in that moment—distant that he had Valerie to lean on. Distant that he felt such emotion for a child that did not belong to him. Distant that simple baby clothes inspired such emotion in him. "Stop defending him," he demanded tiredly.
"Or maybe," Valerie dared to say, "Frostbite just knows something you don't?"
The ghost stiffened in her arms and pulled away. He searched her eyes. For a brief second, a very raw vulnerability flickered across his face. "I looked everywhere," he said roughly. "I poured through every library I could find. I read many books—accounts of ghosts who'd united with humans. Not one naturally born half-human since the beginning of time."
The woman deadpanned, "Did you read Frostbite's library?"
"I didn't even know he could read," Dan hissed in frustration. "His people—they draw pictures. That is their standard of record."
"…But he just wrote a book for me. About this crown."
"Yes," he said roughly, as if thinking to himself. His mind raced. "Yes, he just did. And his people created the crown." He then looked down at the draconic helmet in the snow, some kind of great awe overcoming him. Suddenly, Dan clasped his hands on her armored shoulders. "The crown."
"The what?"
He pulled away. "The crown," he said quickly, his eyes brightening with a giddy joy. "The crown."
Valerie blinked. "I get that," she said slowly. "What the hell are you—?"
"—The crown," he interrupted again, grabbing it from the snow. He plopped her helmet back on top of her head slightly askew, then gently adjusted it when she made a face. It then slid down her cheeks to perfectly fit her. An anxious joy overcame him. "When you wear it, you have an ectoplasmic signature."
The woman looked down as the glow reappeared over her body. "Yes?"
Dan appeared haunted, his voice hoarse in great weakness. "If you have an ectoplasmic signature, then we can—I can—"
"—A baby?" she breathed in realization.
"Yes." An awed expression overcame him as he touched the sharp metal of her cheek. "A pure ghost child, but a child nonetheless."
Valerie paused, feeling a curious exhilaration and concern. "But, uh, how exactly?"
He reminded her, "Sex is a human concept. Creating a ghost requires the mixing of ectoplasm from a power core. Which you seem to have, whenever you wear that crown."
"So, ghost sex."
The man gave her an amused look. "It's not the same thing. It is simply a form of fusion."
"So…fusion sex?" Before he could respond, she added nervously, "Does it mean me blowing up into a balloon for nine months and popping out a kid?"
"No," he said, nearly rolling his eyes. "It is the joining of hands and a conscious, unified desire to create a form. How else do you think the Ghost Zone came to be populated with such wildly unique beings?"
That sounded almost too easy. She narrowed her eyes and poked him. "You mean, we could be holding hands, and suddenly you have a thought, and a baby with two heads just appears out of nowhere?"
This time, his face faulted. "No," he snapped. "The act of creation is sacred for my kind, and it requires a great deal of energy for us both. Many must build up their strength for it." His hand slipped from her. "It is not something to be taken lightly, providing you even desire to engage in such an act with me."
Valerie fell silent at that, her hand slipping from his chest. Her face heated up a bit. "Well, I," she stuttered. "I mean, even if it isn't a nine-month disaster for me upfront, a kid's a lot of responsibility. And I'm not really mom material. And I still don't understand how ghost sex even works, or what the hell raising a full ghost kid would even—"
Dan pressed a finger against her full lips, curiously staring at her heated face. She gave an indignant noise at first, but then she fell silent, the cold December wind whipping about them. His calloused finger slipped from her lip to stroke down her jaw and chin.
"Perhaps," he murmured, "you are wise to question these things."
"You're damn right I am," she whispered. Her tone was a dry mix of amusement and nervousness.
The ghost leaned his forehead against hers, the metal of his crown and her helmet clanking. "You often see what I do not. But I still find great joy at the thought that it is possible," he whispered to her. "To make a child with you. Allow me to have this moment."
She closed her eyes. And then she let herself smile, thinking of Dan holding the baby Jax and leaning his cheek against its head in delight. "I know," she said, almost in a fond resignation. Despite her own reservations against a child of any kind, she did feel awe that a being such as Dan Phantom could express a deep desire to create life. She patted his cheek. "It's cute."
But then the soft moment was broken by her comm, which activated with a sharp whine. "Valerie?" came her father's panicked, crackling voice. "Valerie, where are you? Are you okay? Do you have Phantom under control?"
The both of them groaned at the same time.
Soon enough, Valerie and Dan arrived back at Amity Park's Christmas party. Valerie's smooth talking to her father over the comm had settled civilian fears that they were under attack—but any ease they had with Phantom returned to a stony anxiousness.
Upon their arrival, Damon and Paulina surrounded her with hissed whispers of questions, while everyone else gave Dan a wide clearance as he walked to the table of gifts.
Her father demanded quietly, "You brought him back here after that episode of his? What are you thinking? He is obviously too unstable."
"Yeah, chica," Paulina agreed quietly, looking over at the man in question. "Tell us why he freaked out over baby clothes!"
Damon gave Paulina a dark look. "That is not what I'm asking."
"But it should be," the woman whispered in terrible excitement for the gossip. "He looked sad. Or scared. I know you said D couldn't have kids—is that why? Ohmigod, does Phantom actually want kids?"
Valerie made a face of frustration.
Dan, meanwhile, petulantly stormed straight to the fallen box of baby clothes. To his surprise, it seemed someone had picked them up—and was still working to do so. One particularly familiar doctor had set down his plate of cookies and was folding a small tunic on the table. "Kwan?" he called, almost incredulously.
The doctor looked up. His fear of Phantom, especially given their recent conversations, had diminished. "Oh, it's you," he greeted, although tiredly.
The ghost had the grace to look almost shamed over his unwarranted tantrum. His red eyes scanned the long table of various gifts he and Valerie had received from their vassals, then the wooden box reset at the end, with a clinically folded pile of clothes beside it. "Why are you assisting me?" he demanded curiously.
Kwan sighed. He looked almost strange outside of his usual white coat, wearing civilian clothes. "I wanted to ask you a question," he said. "I've delivered a lot of babies. Some of them, I lost." His eyes flickered up to Dan. "You act like you've lost one too."
He then handed Dan one of the unfolded tunics. The ghost's inhumanly colored fingers latched onto the soft material as if it were made of glass. "Perhaps I have," he said, red eyes hard. "What would it matter to you?"
The doctor's voice was soft. "Because ten months ago, you asked me to help some version of Valerie from another world with a post-pregnancy fever, and to find food for a newborn child."
Dan hesitated. "I did," he said, voice halted.
"Do you still think children aren't worth protecting?" Kwan demanded, curious. "That there's no value to life?"
The ghost's hands tightened into the small tunic. "Are you attempting to measure how much of a threat I am?"
"Yes," the doctor said firmly. "I'm one of the few people here who can treat illness and injuries. I know how much you…care for Valerie. But I don't want to see any of my patients, especially the children, caught up in your tantrums like this one you just threw."
Dan made a face, having enough grace to feel shame. "Have no fear for your people." He then proceeded to sit down opposite where the man was standing, and he stole a frosted Christmas cookie from Kwan's plate. "I simply…desire the presence of a certain child who is lost to me. But perhaps not for long."
Kwan realized that there was a particular air of ease between them, and that Dan had still afforded him a respectable title, despite his bold questioning. Maybe his interactions with the ghost were a good thing. Perhaps Dan was in fact, as Valerie suggested, still capable of change.
The doctor grabbed the last of the frosted cookies from his plate, eying Dan. "What do you mean?"
Dan bit into his cookie, and the sweet of the sugar melted upon his tongue, mixing with the vanilla icing. He looked to Kwan in delight. "I mean," he said, his voice muffled, "that Valerie and I might yet have a child of our own. Which, I do hope, you'll care for with the same resolve as you have myself."
The man paused, actively considering a reality in which he would have to care for a half-human child, or whatever child Dan and Valerie were capable of having together. Slowly, he nodded.
And then the oddest thing happened, which was that a genuine smile stretched across Dan's face. And it made him seem so peculiarly human, despite his odd coloring, that Kwan finally relaxed in the ghost's presence.
As the day passed, Dan found himself sitting with his legs propped up on the table, munching on confectionary treats while reading Frostbite's abridged history of the Crown of Ice and Ring of Courage. As it appeared, there was in fact a section about human electromagnetic signatures and the relics' ability to alter them. He read the lines with apt attention, pleased to discover that Frostbite had done his research well enough to substantiate the claim that Valerie could create a child in the way of a ghost.
Dan's bookish and antisocial behavior left Valerie open to speak with her friends and family while not having to worry about Dan being a needy, petulant child.
She nevertheless kept one eye on him, noting the way he seemed to ignore everything around him for that book. He had a terribly pleased look about him as he munched on a piece of fudge, a little smear of chocolate at the corner of his oblivious mouth.
Valerie's heart lightened at the sight, and she soon felt a need to tease him for his softness. She came to lean against the table, crossing her arms. "You're sure eating up that fudge."
Dan blinked at he looked up from the book, a piece of chocolate fudge midway into his mouth, and then some kind of deep horror and alarm crossed his face. He pulled the piece of fudge away and fairly tossed it into the trash nearby, stricken. He looked down at his half-empty plate. "How many of these chocolate squares have I eaten?"
"About ten."
His face twitched. "Ugh," he said in horror. The infamous Jack Fenton had loved fudge. "What sorcery is this? Some kind of addictive poison?"
"It's the sorcery of sweets," Valerie said dryly, raising a brow. "Have you never had sugar before?"
The ghost appeared as though his stomach were churning. He rubbed it absentmindedly. "Not since I died," he muttered, shooting suspicious looks at the remaining pieces of fudge sitting innocently on his plate. "What a vile confectionary treat, to lure me into such unknowing pleasure. I shall not eat another again."
Valerie bit her lip to hide her amused smile. She teasingly grabbed a square and bit into it, allowing herself to taste the sugary treat to its full. "Hmm," she said, voice muffled. "These are amazing."
Dan's face tightened in want as he watched her.
She licked her lips, swallowing the chocolate and savoring its taste. She moaned again, "Hmm." Then she closed her eyes.
The ghost's face watched the pleasure on her own, and suddenly, his craving for sugar morphed into a craving for Valerie. The utter look of satisfaction upon her seemed almost worthy of a bedroom—and she had a crumb of that delicious fudge at the edge of her kissable mouth. Dan licked his bottom lip while he gazed at her. Two, he thought, for the price of one.
And then he moved.
In a blur, he grabbed for her wrist and turned them intangible. Her eyes snapped open in surprise at the feeling of rushing air and Dan's body encompassing her own.
Before she knew it, they materialized into a supply closet down the hall.
Dan pushed Valerie up against one of the shelves, and her back softly hit the wood as she squeaked in surprise. Then Dan pressed himself against her and kissed her hard. It had been nearly half a day since they'd made love, and his entire body ached for her.
Valerie eased into the kissed in delight, her scarred fingers sinking into the velvet of his collar. His mouth was cool and tasted of chocolate. Her delight turned into a soft squeal as she felt his hands grab onto her waist and hoist her up. On instinct, she wrapped her legs around him, locking her hips to his. As he jammed himself against her, pinning her hard between him and the shelf, her breath hitched in a noise of pleasure.
This—all of this—was dangerous. Not only was it likely that someone would open the supply closet, but it was also not soundproof. The threat of being discovered made their touches even more daring and arousing.
Dan stretched open her lips with his own, deepening their kiss. The taste of Valerie, mixed with glorious chocolate, was an exotic flavor that shut down the full of his brain. In that moment, he desired nothing more than to pull away their clothes and make love to her once again.
Her legs tightened around his waist, and the action untied his crown from his belt. The relic clanged to the floor in a harsh, metallic sound.
The both of them froze suddenly, pulling away from their kiss to listen for the sound of nearing footsteps, in fear that the crash would result in drawing attention. Their breaths mixed in the tense air between them as they did not move.
It was then Valerie realized she felt cold, and that Dan had turned the both of them invisible. The world beyond them was blurry in an odd way as they slipped between planes of reality. She instinctively held on tighter to him and whispered, "What the hell are we doing?"
"You were eating that chocolate and moaning as if in release," he hissed back. "It was very arousing."
Her face heated. "So you decided to make out with me in a broom closet?"
He bumped his nose against hers. "Better here than in front of your people," he murmured. "I want the image of you in pleasure all to myself."
"You're ridiculous," she whispered.
"You are too." He stole another kiss from her.
Just then, the door opened up, and a worker of the city hall peered in suspiciously, his eyes staring into the seemingly empty space of the storage closet.
Both Dan and Val froze again mid-kiss, even as they wavered in invisibility
The worker then grumped under his breath, muttering a collection of unintelligible words. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and a mop just next to the door, and then he shut the door behind him, leaving the king and queen alone.
Valerie breathed out a sigh of relief as she leaned her forehead against Dan's.
He lifted their invisibility as he closed his eyes, reveling in her heat as his lips stretched. "I like sneaking around with you," he murmured.
She stroked the back of his neck with her thumb, her fingers still lazily weaved into his flickering locks. His glow highlighted the lines of her face, which were caught between amusement and a wry embarrassment. "Aren't we," she whispered, "supposed to be royalty or something? What the hell are we doing, sneaking around like kids?"
The handsome ghost still had his hands around her waist, locking her body against his. His eyes crinkled as his face split with an even more delighted smile. "Would you have preferred I laid you out on the dessert table, in front of everyone? Do say yes."
"The dessert table?" she whispered incredulously.
"As you taste most exquisite, I figure that to be an appropriate place for you to lay back and spread your legs for me. It would cause such a scandal."
Her face flushed. "You're ridiculous. I'm not gonna do that stuff in front of other people."
He delighted in the red upon her face. "Ah, but you're the one who complained about sneaking around kids."
Valerie huffed. "I mean, we're supposed to be acting better than this."
"What do you mean? I am on my best behavior right now. No one is dead, I tolerated your father and bimbo friend—"
"—You still flipped out because of Frostbite's gift," she cut in dryly. "You threw stuff around and trolled my people. And now you're trying to screw me in a closet."
His hands tightened against her, and he pushed her back against the shelves, grinding his hips against hers. Valerie's eyes widened as her fingers tightened in his hair.
Dan whispered, "Like I said. My best behavior."
Valerie felt his desire for her, and her heart began to race. Her voice tightened. "Don't try to be cute."
"I am what I am," he murmured to her. "Although I was thinking words like handsome—" he leaned forward and kissed her— "arousing—" he planted another kiss down her jaw, and she instinctively tilted her head, raising her eyes toward heaven in a mix between desire and irritation. "Sexy."
She gave a shaky huff, closing her eyes as she felt his lips worship her. "You're terrible."
"That is not what you said last night," he murmured cheekily against the hot skin of her neck. He dared to slip his snake tongue against the line of her pulse, and he felt her entire body tighten against him as she gasped.
If they kept this up, she feared their stolen kisses in a closet would turn into quite a bit more. His cool, wet tongue, and its alien configuration that she liked so much, sent goose-bumps down her whole body. She dared to close her eyes, reveling in the feeling of Dan's love.
"We, uh, have to go back out," she whispered. All of her thoughts were beginning to scatter.
"We are king and queen," he said against her neck, before pulling away to stare at her expression of increasing need. It delighted him to no end. "We are held to no one's schedule but our own."
He could see her fighting a battle with herself as she opened her eyes to stare at him. "That's not how leadership works," she whispered.
He pouted. "Not even on your beloved holiday of Christmas?"
She pulled one hand away from his hair to stroke her fingers down the sharp line of his cheek. "They're probably already wondering where we disappeared to. I don't want them thinking you threw another tantrum, or that you killed me or something while they weren't looking."
"Oh, please." He nuzzled into her touch, half-amused. He looked up at her, his red eyes glowing in almost a soft way. "As if such a thing were possible."
Like this, in the silence of the small room, Valerie could see that glimmer of Dan's soul—an untarnished part of him that she wanted everyone else to see in him. It was the wickedly handsome part of him. It made her will weaken.
"Well," she whispered hesitantly, "maybe we're okay…for a little while."
Dan's eyes glinted. He did not dare to question but instead captured her lips with his in delight.
And on the other side of the hall, back in the great celebration, one Paulina Sanchez sat next to a Phantom Tracker and a vent on the wall, biting her nails to keep from squealing. "Oh my god," she whispered quietly to her colleagues. "He's kissing her. They're like, actually making out in a broom closet, oh my god."
Around her were several resistance soldiers, who'd grown antsy over the sudden disappearance of Valerie and Phantom. They'd taken Damon's Phantom Tracker and used it to locate them. Then Paulina, of all people, had noticed there was a vent in the far corner of the meeting room that connected to other rooms, likely including the broom closet.
Damon looked properly horrified as he turned off the Tracker. "I don't need to hear this," he said, looking a bit ill.
Paulina looked up at him. "Are you kidding? This is—I mean—" Her big blue eyes began to brighten in tears of joy. She began to fan herself and blinking several times to avoid ruining her makeup. "It's like those TV shows, you know? Where you want the two to be happy, and then they are? It's like the best Christmas present ever."
The sound of a delighted giggle from Valerie echoed through the vent. It was a soft, pure sound that suddenly made everyone but Paulina feel as though they were intruding on something private. Paulina stuck her ear against the vent a bit harder, nearly clapping her hands.
Damon pulled away then, shaking his head. He struggled to reconcile himself with any world in which his daughter could find enjoyment in the arms of a murderer.
But then, who was Phantom anymore? This strange being had sat before him, making lewd jokes and stealing food off his plate. The ghost had a constant craving for bacon and even ate Christmas cookies with Kwan.
Wedding gifts were strewn about the tables, baby clothes carefully folded beside scaled armor and daggers.
Things were changing.
"He said the 'L' word," Paulina whispered out excitedly. "He loves her. I knew it. I knew it." And then her watery eyes widened a bit.
"Do you hear something?" came Valerie's suddenly tight, suspicious voice.
"Yes."
And then suddenly a great spike of energy made even the vent glow green, and then it disappeared, taking along all traces of Phantom's power for it to suddenly reappear at his castle in the Ghost Zone, presumably to finish what they had started in the broom closet.
Paulina pulled away from the vent in a great pout.
A/N: And thus ends this brief return back to the VALentine thread! Apologies for the late upload—life's been crazy. But nothing like a little Christmas in the middle of February, right? XD Happy Valentine's Day, all!
And I just hit the 500,000 word mark with this upload. Woohoo! Hard to believe that a simple one-shot could expand into this ongoing collection. Thank you again to everyone who's become a part of the Dark Gray community to share in the weirdness of this strange and wonderful couple, haha.
I've really enjoyed writing the VALentine thread and all of its twists and turns. I hope you enjoyed it too! Depending on anything you'd like to see, I might be willing to expand it a bit more later. Up next on the menu are some new one-shots and continuing installments to Karma and Aftermath. I know some people have been asking for updates to Karma and Aftermath; don't worry, I haven't forgotten about them and definitely intend to write more for them soon.
Also, for anyone interested, I began a new Dan/Val story on Archive of Our Own (my penname there is Lightning_Streak), called The Exchange. It's rated MA for explicit content, which is why I've uploaded it there as opposed to this M-rated collection. The storyline is Aftermath-ish but with a consensual relationship. If you check it out, I hope you like it as well!
Please review with your thoughts, questions, constructive criticisms, or ideas! Thanks!
