Happy Friday!
I've been developing the idea behind this oneshot for over a year now and only recently got it to a point where I thought it was ready for beta reading. Enjoy!
Shoutout to my inter-site beta team for their fantastic help as usual!
Check out my Tumblr (agentianlegend) for a better view of the cover art for this story.
I do not own Danny Phantom.
PAPARAZZI
For perhaps the first time in the Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle's existence, it drove at a pace well below the posted speed limit in Amity Park. The Fentons could do little to ignore what was unfolding on the streets outside.
Circus.
That was the only word which occurred to Danny to describe it: a circus, a media circus. One could hardly tell that it was 11:00 at night due to the incessancy of the cameras' flash bulbs and spotlights. It was a sea of journalists clamoring for a view or a quote.
Danny turned to his sister and was met with an uneasy gaze. The siblings shared a silent conversation before facing forward with forlorn demeanors.
None of them had meant for this to happen. There weren't supposed to be any news crews in Antarctica anyway; it was too remote. The only people there carried an 'essential' designation and had focused entirely on the task of operating the machinery to thwart what had been dubbed the 'Disasteroid.' There should have been no way for the news to get out, beyond the immediate and obvious success of the plan.
Should have been.
A single worker, a single iPhone, a single Instagram livestream documenting the emotions and reactions amongst the crew focused on the world's hero, Danny Phantom, as the staff ran to celebrate with him out on the glacier. The livestreamer hovered in the background, still trying to capture as much of the action at once as his camera happened to land on the Fentons at precisely the right [wrong] moment.
The group had rejoiced before noticing. The Fentons had never appeared prouder of their son, and he had never appeared more accepting of their love and approval. And then Danny Fenton's gaze had locked onto the phone.
And his face…dropped.
The phone dropped as well. Its owner had realized what he had just broadcasted to the entire internet. Sure, only the people watching his livestream would know Danny Phantom's previously-best-kept secret, but it would be a matter of seconds before it broke globally. A sobering silence fell over the assembled crew. One by one, they glanced over at the horror-stricken press agent, the young man's phone drooping ever lower with each compounding heartbeat.
A pothole jolted Danny back to the present as the GAV crept its way forward down Elm Street. The only reason it could advance at all was the fleet of patrol cars escorting it to the Fenton household.
"This is insanity," Danny muttered.
"It's not every day the world has a real-life superhero," Jazz replied, "and it's not every day that the world finds out that hero's secret identity."
"Your sister's right, Danny," their mother commented from the front passenger seat. "We're going to have to make some accommodations now that everyone knows."
"We're the ones that saved them, though!" Danny said.
"No, we're not," his mom answered with a sigh and a hand on her temple. "In their eyes, just you are."
"I-I'm sure we can make it clear how important you guys were for it to succeed?" Danny suggested. "It was your tech."
"No, sweetie, I know. That's—that's not what I meant."
Danny knew. Just as Vlad was the representative villain, Danny was the representative hero.
"Come on, Dan-o, don't be chicken!" Jack encouraged.
"You can't live in fear of them forever!" Maddie added.
Danny groaned and looked out the front door's peephole, seeing the crowd of reporters staked out across the street.
Jazz came down the stairs with her messenger bag slung over her shoulder. "The more you give them to work with, the less they'll be curious and nosy."
"But it's gonna be hell till then," Danny argued.
Jazz hovered momentarily in the kitchen threshold. "Well…yeah." Then she went in to grab a bite to go.
Danny bid Sam and Tucker adieu about a block too early. He trudged up Elm, left to face the hordes of paparazzi alone.
The journalists migrated from across the street en masse.
"Phantom!"
"Phantom! Over here!"
"Mr. Phantom, are there any big ghost battles coming up?" Inside asked.
" 'Mr. Phantom' was my father," Danny joked as he hurried up the front steps. "Please call me Danny."
"Hey, kiddo, how was school?" asked a relaxed man wearing a People Magazine polo.
"That's for Mom to ask and for you never to find out!" Danny snapped. He rummaged through his bag for his house keys and chided himself for not having been prepared.
"Are you saying Jack Fenton has ghost powers as well? Is Jack Fenton not your father?" Inside insisted, her handheld recorder outstretched.
"Don't you guys have anything better to do than stalk a teenager?!" Danny snapped from his doorstep, key fumbling in the lock.
"Dude, this is literally our job!" one of the videographers replied. He bore a TMZ logo on his lanyard.
"You're a hot topic, kiddo," the Access Hollywood filmographer added.
"That's Sam. I'm more of an American Eagle," Danny groaned and went inside.
After the first few weeks and the final buzz before summer, the camped-out press agents settled onto a usual crew of variably-willing volunteers.
TMZ had a brash, blond 'bro' who favored breezy Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts paired with a revolving assortment of designer sneakers. Inside Edition had a tall, slender Asian woman fresh out of Columbia and aspirations far higher than her first major post-graduation assignment, as evidenced by her strict adherence to a business professional wardrobe, a tailored grey pantsuit and white blouse on this day in particular. People Magazine's representative was an early-middle-aged man who was perfectly content to camp out in front of a UFO-topped, neon-lit suburban Ohio house as long as the paychecks kept arriving on time.
Access Hollywood was perhaps the most dedicated team, always having a videographer and producer present at all times. The videographer was an enthusiastic film graduate eager for any exposure and experience for his resume. His producer was never seen without some takeaway coffee mug in one hand and a smartphone in the other.
Danny couldn't quite bring himself to attempt to learn their names.
"Phantom! This is your first time outside in days. Where are you going?"
"This just in: Local kid goes to local waterpark!" Danny sassed.
"What's your waterpark of choice?"
"There's only one this side of Akron."
"Who's going with you?"
"Use your God-given sight and take a wild guess!"
"Is there a ghost involved? A water ghost?" TMZ gasped. "Are you prepping for an aqua-pocalypse?!"
"Guys!" Danny finally snapped, and everyone—Danny, Sam, Tucker and all the paparazzi—stopped just shy of the waiting GAV. "Please, I'm sixteen, it's the summer, and I just want to have a day with my friends. Can you leave me alone for, like, four hours?"
"Dinner," Tucker muttered just loud enough for Danny to hear.
"Dinner," Danny repeated to himself. "Five hours?"
"Well…no," TMZ replied.
"Why not?! I may have helped save the world, but I *am* still just a freaking teenager!"
"We'll be fired if we don't follow you!" the reporter from Inside Edition interjected. When everyone in the group focused on her, she continued, "Our job description is seriously to follow you wherever in case something happens."
"Why? This isn't Jersey Shore."
"Do you watch Jersey Shore!?" the Access producer called out.
"No, that's not the point!" Danny snapped. "This isn't reality TV; this is reality. My reality. Please, just…just five hours is all I ask."
No one spoke.
"I'll give you an interview when we finish?" Danny offered.
The paparazzi glanced amongst themselves.
"…Alright," Inside Edition agreed.
"THANK you," Danny said, and he and his friends piled into the GAV while everyone else went back to their makeshift encampment to grab a cold soda or snack for their break.
"It's been months!" Danny complained.
Jazz walked up to him at the window and handed her brother a grande pumpkin spice latte. "If you went out for your *own* coffee more often, they'll start to realize you're not that interesting or original."
"God, you are so annoying sometimes."
"Annoying when I'm right!" Jazz sing-songed as she went up to her room.
"What the hell is this?!" Access Producer snapped. She thrusted a newspaper into Videographer's chest and put her fists on her hips.
The film graduate fumbled for the paper and unfolded it. " 'Casper Hi-Lites: Phantom Opens Up About Punny Origins of Hero Name'?"
"How can an acne-ridden pubescent twerp set up a no-holds-barred exposé on Phantom, but we can hardly even get him to say if he had a nice day?!"
"Whoa, chill, dudette," TMZ piped up from his spot at the end of the paparazzi's row of chairs. "Maybe because he knows and trusts them?"
"He can trust us!"
"Can he though?" People Magazine interjected, not looking up from his crossword.
Producer turned to her videographer. "We need to step up our game."
"Danny, you're being ridiculous," Sam chided from across their booth.
"No I'm not."
"Dude, you kind of are," Tucker agreed from next to her and took a sip of his Nasty Burger milkshake.
"They can't take photos of me if they can't see me," Danny retorted.
Sam sighed as yet another fry floated into the air and disappeared into Danny's invisible mouth. "Yeah, but haunted Mighty Meaty meals are just as much of a story," she drawled.
"I heard Inside Edition bought an infrared camera specifically for their crew in Amity Park," Tucker said.
"Oh, oh, great," Danny sassed and popped back into the visible spectrum. "So nowhere is safe now."
"Well, we could always slap them with an invasion of privacy suit," Sam suggested. "Or stalking a minor or something. Mom hasn't sued anybody for at least a couple months now; I bet she'd be happy to help."
"With your parents, I can't tell whether you're joking or serious."
"We're not nearly close enough," the Access Hollywood producer whined from her hatchback's driver seat.
"Chill out, will ya?" her videographer bit back. "I can get everything on this telephoto prime lens."
"Why are you using prime?! What if he flies away or we need a wider shot?"
"The image is more pristine! Trust me!" the videographer insisted.
"Y'all're gonna ruin my audio," People piped up from the backseat. He readjusted his listening device hanging out his open window.
"Watch it, gramps," the producer barked. "You're lucky we even let you tag along for our shadowing run."
"Look! He's stopping!" Access Videographer interjected.
Access Producer slammed on the brakes and swerved out of the after-school traffic. "What's he doing?"
"Ssh!" the Access videographer and People photographer hissed at once.
Danny stood curbside talking to a father and his young daughter, both of whom brandished a stack of flyers. The father gestured around him while his girl unblinkingly stared up at Danny. The father held up one of the flyers.
"What's going on? What does it say?" Access Producer insisted.
Her videographer focused on the paper. "It's a kitten. Looks like a 'missing pet' kinda flyer."
" 'Tiddles,' " People clarified.
Producer watched Danny nod and shake the now-relieved father's hand. Danny shoved a flyer into his backpack before shouldering the bag and transforming into Phantom.
Producer gasped and punched Videographer's shoulder. "Tell me you got that!"
"Of course I-!"
"Ssssh!" People hissed.
"That's one of his first on-camera shifts since Antarctica!" Producer whisper-shouted and bounced in her seat. "We basically just recorded our raises!"
"Chill out, will you?" Videographer moaned, rubbing his shoulder against his seat bolster for relief since both hands were steadying his camera.
Phantom took off, and so did the car. He flew at an uncharacteristically slow pace, searching the ground for the missing cat. The hero glanced back towards the neighborhood they were leaving before scanning his surroundings. He traced one of the alleyways and settled onto the parking lot for Amity Park's eponymous greenspace at the end of said alley. He gently arced behind the houses, leaving the paparazzi's view. Producer whipped around the next corner, oblivious to any stop signs, before slamming on the brakes and creeping around the next corner.
Phantom hovered silently over the cars, inching his way across the tarmac before dipping behind an SUV. A tiny animal darted out from underneath it and zipped towards the trees. Phantom pursued. He did his best to keep up, but the cat could change direction far more easily. The creature whipped around a garbage can, but Phantom couldn't correct in time and crashed headlong into it, tumbling across the lawn amongst an assortment of rubbish. Slightly woozy, he stood up with an open styrofoam takeaway container sliding down his chest, leaving a trail of nacho cheese. Phantom grimaced and turned momentarily intangible before relocating the wily ball of fur and pursuing once more.
The cat had barely reached the playground before Phantom tackled it. From their distance, the Access Hollywoods couldn't hear what was happening, but the ghostly hero's thrashing and the panicking cat plastered to his face was all the explanation they needed. With one final swipe of its paw, the cat leaped off Phantom and made a beeline for the road.
"Hey, that little thing's comin' our way..." People commented.
After a moment of thought, Access Videographer unbuckled his seat belt. "Here, hold this," he said, handing the camera to his producer.
"What?! I can't operate this thing! What are you doing?"
"It's on autofocus. The cat's gonna get away!"
Videographer slammed his door and jogged around the front of the hatchback. His blurry form bounced at the edge of the camera's view as he hurried towards the kitten. The creature saw him and froze, and Videographer paused with a widespread stance. Phantom soundlessly floated ever-closer to the standoff, reaching out for the runaway cat. However, his shoulder clipped a low-hanging branch and rustled the leaves.
All at once, the cat darted to its right and Access Videographer leaped to his left. He grasped his hands around the cat's midsection and rolled into the fall, valiantly holding the cat out of harm's way. He gripped the back of the cat's neck, and it went slack like a sack of potatoes. Videographer exhaled his relief and gently set the cat down while maintaining his grip.
Phantom extended a hand and helped Videographer up. They shared a small smile and a 'homie' handshake before the cat was handed over. The two conversed for a moment before Videographer gestured over at the car. Phantom glanced over, and his smile fell when he saw the telephoto lens in Producer's hands. He shifted the cat to a more comfortable grip and scratched its head as it grew accustomed to the hero. After a single final nod at Videographer, Phantom lifted off and flew away in the direction of the searching family.
Videographer trudged over and settled back into the passenger seat. "Well, Tiddles is going home."
"Here, check the footage," Producer ordered, passing the camera.
"The kid was just helping return a cat," Videographer grumbled.
"Yeah, but we just got everything we could hope for! We got embarrassing, we got heroic, we got the animal lover, we got the human element of you two working together… Gah! What a Tuesday! This'll mean a massive bonus for the both of us!"
"And me!" People agreed, stopping his device's recording.
"Sometimes I wonder if the office let you keep your soul," the videographer deadpanned.
The producer furiously typed an email on her phone. "I forgot to have it written into my contract."
Rain barraged Amity Park with a vengeance. In a week or two, it would be snow; but for now, the waters poured down for days without mercy.
Danny looked out the living room window and debated.
"I'm sure they'd appreciate it."
Danny tried to suppress the full-body flinch at his sister's sudden appearance next to him. "They're being assholes, though."
"They're just doing their jobs."
The siblings stared out the front window in a moment of apprehensive contemplation.
"…Yeah," Danny begrudgingly agreed.
When the front door to Fenton Works opened at a time besides when Danny left for and returned from school, all cameras immediately sprang to attention. Both the people and the equipment were draped with plastic ponchos, waiting in vain for any of their employers to supply a pop-up tent for their shelter. The rain was loud against the plastic, so any hope of audio was completely shot.
The crew watched as Danny Fenton walked down his steps with an umbrella overhead and slowly began to close the distance between them. When he was in the middle of the street, he stopped.
Nobody spoke; nobody breathed as they waited to see what he would do.
Without a word, the boy summoned his transformation and cast his umbrella aside. He took a fortifying breath and deliberately extended his open palms towards the reporters. They all knew he wouldn't attack civilians, but none of them could help the fear which arose in the face of Danny Phantom activating his powers.
With the storm raging around him, Phantom's eyes swirled from their radioactive green to a bright glacial blue. Ectoplasm of the same color began dancing around his hands. He released the energy directly towards the journalists, and they froze.
When the gathered crowd realized they had only frozen figuratively, they relaxed slightly as crystalline fragments of ice began crashing together and compacting. Two columns of ice arose at either end of the paparazzi. When they had grown sufficiently, a network of interconnecting branches wove together and thickened overhead. When the ice storm finally subsided, they realized they could no longer hear the incessant pitter-patter of raindrops on their ponchos.
With a faint, friendly smile, Phantom transformed back to human, grabbed his discarded umbrella and walked back to his house.
"Ah—uh, thanks, Phantom," Access Videoographer finally called out.
Danny Fenton paused in his open doorway. "Danny," he corrected, and the boy shut the door.
The paparazzi knew something was up when they heard the sirens. A procession of white SUVs came barreling down the street and encircled Fenton Works.
TMZ nudged Inside Edition with his elbow and said, "Hey, check out these guys."
"Who the heck are they?" she replied.
"Danny Phantom's worst nightmare. Literally."
A gut feeling prompted Access Hollywood's producer to turn to her videographer. "Get a live feed going, now. This'll be good," she assured.
White-suited agents poured out of the vehicles and stampeded to the front door of the house with their ecto-weapons drawn. One of them pounded on the front door.
The door opened a few seconds later, and Danny Fenton hesitantly peaked out. "Hel-?"
Before he could properly speak, an agent grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and dragged Danny from the house. Danny screamed and struggled down the steps, the concrete mercilessly scuffing the white fabric of his shirt and shoes.
"What the hell! Get—get off me!" Danny shouted. He attempted to turn intangible, but the agents' anti-ghost defenses shocked him into submission.
"Daniel Phantom, under the jurisdiction of the Anti-Ecto Act, you are hereby put under arrest for the daily endangerment of the human race!" the lead agent barked.
"What?! I SAVED the human race!"
The agent cuffed the boy. "Says you."
"Besides, I have i-immunity! The U.N. said so!"
"They don't know anything."
"You-you can't do this! I have rights! I have—I have the Geneva Convention thing, or-?"
"Wrong!" One of the agents restraining him growled, "I would say you have the right to remain silent, but you have no rights, ecto-scum!"
From their months of involuntary study, the paparazzi could tell Danny Fenton was becoming increasingly panicked.
"What the fuck?" Access Videographer muttered under his breath.
The agents opened the back of one of the vans.
TMZ stood from his chair. "H-hey, what are you doing?" he hesitantly called out.
All the agents froze.
"Citizen, this does not concern you," the main agent replied.
"Like hell it doesn't!" Inside Edition replied and tossed her microphone into her vacant seat. "It's our job to watch over this kid!"
"No, it's your job to get dirt on him," the agent snapped.
"The lady's right!" TMZ piped up and stood as well. He made sure his camera was recording and began crossing the street to get closer to the cuffed—and gagged—teenage superhero. "We just recorded you blatantly admitting your ignorance of international law!"
"The U.N. won't be happy to hear about this!" Inside Edition shouted from the sidewalk.
"They won't know. Under the authority of the American government, we are confiscating your recording equipment to avert public panic."
"Hey, *Grandpa*, ever heard of a livestream?" Access Producer called out.
All the agents—and paparazzi—turned to look at the producer who stood next to her videographer on the curb across the street. The man had his phone trained on the group while his producer held her own cell phone to her ear mid-call.
"If you guys don't back down now in front of the eyes of the world," Access Hollywood's videographer confidently asserted with a gesture to his phone camera, "we'll ensure you prejudiced pussies get shut down within the month."
For a moment, nobody spoke. Every journalist present soon sported a cocky smirk. The Guys in White agents all turned to their leader for guidance.
"...Release the ghost."
Silent celebrations rippled through the paparazzi as Danny Fenton's handcuffs and gag were removed. The boy flew out of the agents' reach the second he was able. The frustrated agents wordlessly piled into their vehicles and drove away while Danny stood watching from the middle of the street.
The second the vehicles were out of sight, Danny's knees buckled. The closest reporters hurriedly grabbed him under the arms, carrying him to their shelter across the street from Fenton Works.
"Hey, dude, breathe," TMZ said and guided the teen to an empty folding chair. He massaged the boy's shoulders and added, "It's all good now. You're safe."
"O-oh my god," Danny stammered and rested his temples in his palms.
"Insider, got a water for him?"
"Yeah," Inside Edition replied and jumped for her cooler. She uncapped a bottle and handed it to Danny.
"Thanks," the boy said and took a long gulp.
"I can't believe those guys won't give up," Access Videographer commented. "It's been months since Antarctica."
"Good call on the livestream," his producer added. "We're already trending!"
Videographer frowned. "That, and it saved the kid's life!?"
"What's wrong with you?!" Inside Edition snapped at the producer.
"What!" she protested.
TMZ sighed and squatted down to Danny's level. "You doin' okay, man?"
"I-I'll be alright," Danny replied, a forlorn expression on his face. "Those guys have always been after me. Thank god you guys spoke up or else I'd be halfway to a vivisection right now."
"Holy shit."
Access Hollywood reluctantly aimed his camera at Danny, livestream still active, and asked, "Do you...have a comment about what should be done about the GIW's interference in your life?"
TMZ smacked Access upside the head. "What the hell, man?!"
"Oh, come on!" a photographer whined as his camera levitated out of his hand.
"AHAHAHAHA!" Technus cackled. "I, Technus, master of all techno-"
"Master of pissing literally everybody off!" Phantom yelled back and uncapped his Thermos. "I thought we had a truce!"
"Ah-HAAAA!" the ghost replied. "But I, Technus, have accepted a bet to see who can be the first to beat the savior of the worlds!"
"You just lost."
Technus instantly disappeared into the confines of the Fenton Thermos, and all the electronics he had been assembling into his latest monster clattered to the ground in the middle of Elm Street.
Phantom turned to the disheartened paps looking on at all their destroyed gear. "You all good?" the hero asked.
"He broke all our stuff…" Access Hollywood Producer whined.
Phantom sighed. "Sorry, guys. One of the hazards when you take a job in Amity Park," he said.
"Our bosses are so not gonna be chill about this," TMZ said.
"Well, fellas," People added, "I don't know about you guys, but it looks like *I've* got the weekend off!"
"Hey, yeah!" Access Videographer agreed. "It'll be a couple of days before they can file the insurance claim and send out another camera."
"So…it's agreed?" TMZ clarified.
With a smattering of muttered agreement, the reporters began packing their remaining gear.
"Looks like we have to take a long weekend off," TMZ said and made a point of making eye contact with Danny. "All of us. Go crazy."
A smile of pure joy adorned the hero's face.
As always, my fic is full of references:
- Elm Street: Because Nightmare on Elm Street (and the whole town is horror movie-themed)
- Tiddles: This is a fun one for you petrolheads/gearheads out there. In season 19 episode 5 of Top Gear UK, Jeremy Clarkson and Richard Hammond design and build an old person-specific car based on a Fiat Multipla. They mount a cat litter box on the roof and put a stuffed cat inside it for demonstration which they named - you guessed it - 'Tiddles.'
- Hot Topic / American Eagle: For those of you reading from abroad, Hot Topic is a popular teen-focused clothing chain which caters to the punk/emo look. American Eagle is sort of casual-sporty-prep but not as sporty-preppy as Abercrombie.
- "Mr. Phantom was my father. Please, call me Danny": This line has been done many times, but the moment at the forefront of my mind when writing this was Finding Nemo when the turtle tells Marlin to call him 'Crush.'
I hope you guys enjoyed it. I love your feedback and reactions, so feel free to drop it in the comments or a direct message. Check out my Tumblr AgentIanLegend for more content and occasional behind-the-scenes story development insights!
hiimian signing out *peace sign emoji*