Act Two: Glimmers of …

Scene Five: Flight

"Oh, come on, is that the worst you can throw at me!?"

Vlad Plasmius folded his arms over his chest and laughed. He had long suspected he was a massively powerful (half) ghost, but never to this degree. His first forays into the Ghost Zone had provided him with no opponents too strong for him to handle, and as he explored further and further from his own portal, he had yet to be defeated.

Until two weeks ago, upon the completion of his own Plasmius Ghost Portal, Vlad had been unable to enter the Ghost Zone. Oh, he'd found ways to practice with his developing powers over the last 20 years, and he had quite a few at his disposal, but he had only rarely seen any other ghosts – with the exception of one interesting fellow calling himself Skulker.

"The Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter, hmm?" Vlad had demanded, smirking as he dangled the tiny ghost from his fingers; his suit, a smoking wreck, dissolved slowly in the corrosive 'ground' of the Ghost Zone.

"I have the pelts of all the rarest ghosts on my wall!" Skulker had shrieked, his voice high-pitched and hardly intimidating. "And new grounds have just opened up! I demand you release me!"

"New grounds? What do you mean?" Vlad asked, honestly curious. Had Skulker perhaps heard of the Plasmius Ghost Portal and thought to go hunting in the human world?

"Someone has opened up a portal to the human world – a permanent one." Skulker sulked, folding his arms across his chest. "One of the smaller fish I threw away seems to have escaped through it."

Plasmius laughed. "That would be me, my small ectoplasmic specimen, and if you should ever decide to come through my Portal you will meet an end more unfortunate than this one. No one has come through my Portal."

"Then I guess we're not talking about the same one, are we?" Skulker snapped sourly.

Vlad considered this. It was possible, he supposed, that the designs he had stolen from his wonderful Madeline and modified had actually worked. If anyone could correct the mistakes of that bumbling fool Jack, it was her.

"Where is this Portal?" Vlad had demanded.

That had been three days ago. Now he dusted off his hands and looked at his latest handiwork. These ectoplasmic octopuses were mostly mindless and pathetically weak, but maybe Vlad could put them to use.

&

"Danny, do you really think this is a good idea!?" Sam shouted up at him.

"Not really!" Danny shouted back, looking down.

It was a fifteen foot drop he was facing – not enough to kill him, but enough to break his legs if he messed this up. The grass in the park was soft, but not that soft. It was nearly his curfew, though, so Danny didn't have much more time to get up his nerve.

"Tucker, if he hurts himself, I am totally blaming this all on you," Sam informed the other boy.

Tucker was crossing his fingers and, he claimed, his toes. "He's going to be fine," he said, looking up at Danny anxiously.

This was sort of Tucker's fault, but Danny figured that if anything went wrong it was really his own fault. After all, he'd agreed to this. He tugged nervously at the neckline of his jumpsuit and looked around the abandoned park.

"Okay," he said, "I'm jumping! Please don't die," he mumbled to himself.

He jumped.

&

The reason this was Tucker's fault was because he was the first one to suggest that maybe Danny could fly.

Danny had come back to school the day after seeing the self-named 'Box Ghost' and related his experience with it. Sam and Tucker had listened sympathetically.

"So it's obsessed with … boxes," Sam had put in when he was done. "When there are so many other, better things to be obsessed with – protecting the environment, stopping crime …"

"I don't think ghosts have the same priorities as humans," Danny pointed out, picking absently at the Wednesday's Mystery Meat. "If you become a ghost I guess we know what you'll be doing, though." He smiled wanly.

"And you say it just floated through the wall and left?" Tucker asked. "Cool, so it can fly!" He nudged Danny with his elbow. "I'll bet you can fly."

"Come off it, Tuck!" Danny protested, but he couldn't help thinking about it. "… you really think so?"

"Sure, why not? You can walk through walls and disappear and stuff, right? Why couldn't you fly, too?" Tucker made a sound like a cannon going off, moving his hand through the air like an airplane. "It's a bird, it's a plane! No, it's Danny the Phantom!"

Sam rolled her eyes and glanced at her watch. "Oh geez, I gotta go." She packed up her bag lunch.

"Your 'secret project'?" Tucker asked, making quotes in the air. Sam had been leaving early from lunch period for a few weeks now.

"Yep. It should be over soon, though," Sam promised. "I'll bet you'll love it, Tucker."

"Unless it's a super-advanced PDA from the twenty-second century, I don't really care." Tucker half-lidded his eyes.

"Whatever. See you in class." Sam threw her backpack over her shoulder and waved goodbye, leaving the cafeteria.

Danny pushed his tray away; Mystery Meat wasn't appetizing at the best of times, and Danny was far from having a good day. Dash had given him an atomic wedgie that morning and Danny still hadn't fully recovered, and biology class was next – the class where no matter how hard he tried, he could not keep himself tangible enough to handle the beakers. "… It would be pretty cool to fly," Danny admitted.

"I'll bet you five bucks you can." Tucker scraped his tray clean of mystery gravy.

"Doubt it," Danny sighed. It would be too good to be true.

"Can't hurt to try, dude, is all I'm sayin'."

"Sure it can. If I can't fly, I go splat," Danny shot back, slapping his palms together for emphasis.

"Dude, Danny, I'm not saying jump off a building!" Tucker laughed. "Just, like, jump off the statue in Amity Park or something. And if you can't, I owe you five bucks."

Danny rubbed the back of his head. "… No bet," he said, imagining leaping off that statue and just taking off into the sky. It wasn't that tall, so if he fell it wouldn't be too bad; and heck, he had been floating for a second back behind the Nasty Burger, so maybe … just maybe …

&

But standing on top of the statue of the Mayor (portrayed as much taller than he really was), he had to revise his opinion. Landing would hurt. "So just … don't … land," he mumbled to himself.

He took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and jumped.

It really felt like he was falling for a moment, but falling the way it felt in a dream – no wind rushing past his face, just weightlessness. Danny kept himself braced for impact for a long moment before Sam shouted, "Danny! Ohmigosh you're floating!"

Danny cracked open one eye and took a quick glance down. The ground was still a good ten feet below him. Sam was waving her arms, grinning from ear to ear; Tucker was peeking through his fingers. "Dude!" Tucker cried as soon as he realized Danny wasn't in the process of breaking his ankles on the ground.

Danny laughed helplessly, a thrill going through him as he realized he really was floating. "Guys! Guys, I can totally fly!" He waved his arms ecstatically. "This is awesome! This is the coolest thing ever! This is—waugh!"

His enthusiasm was cut short when he abruptly dropped five feet towards the ground. Danny clenched his fists and willed himself to stay afloat and he stopped with his feet a foot from the grass. "… and wow that was close." He carefully, carefully put his white-booted feet down and drew a deep breath. "Phew!"

"Danny, that was awesome," Sam enthused. "Still think all this ghost stuff is bad?"

"I knew you could do it, man!" Tucker punched Danny lightly in the shoulder. "Do it again!"

Adrenaline coursing through him, Danny felt as if he could fly straight into space at the moment. He grinned at Tucker. "Betcha five bucks I can fly back to the top of the statue."

"No bet," Tucker shot back.

Danny looked down at his feet, then up at the statue. If I can float in place, there's no reason I can't fly in a direction. He picked up his feet – first one, then the other, as if he was stepping on a stairway made of air. "Guys, this is so awesome," he enthused, floating a few inches off the ground.

"You gonna fly up there or what?" Tucker encouraged him. Danny nodded and took another deep breath. How does Superman do it? Do I just – put my arms forward or something …? He lifted his fists and pointed them at the statue – and floated there, looking stupid. "How does this work?" Danny asked aloud helplessly, windmilling his legs as if they would help propel him forward through the air.

Sam and Tucker looked at each other, and shrugged at him.

The Box Ghost had just floated forward. It almost didn't look like flying, like that was how he just moved all the time, his short, stubby legs no longer any good for walking. But maybe it was just like everything else with these freaky powers – if he wanted it to happen (and sometimes when he didn't want it to happen – well, all the time when he didn't want it to happen), then it happened. He just had to think about it. So he did – hard.

Abruptly Danny rocketed off the ground and at the statue's head. "Waaah—Omph!" In less than a second, he went facefirst into the back of the Mayor's brass head.

Dizzy and disoriented, Danny grabbed the brass casting of the cowboy hat and clung to the statue's face for dear life. "Ugh … th-that didn't go so well …" Danny groaned.

"Hey, at least you flew," Tucker pointed out.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Ahaha …" Danny laughed woozily as he slid down the statue to cling to its feet.

To be continued

Continuing the Chronicles of Canon:

--Vlad seems to have been working with Skulker since before the series began, but Skulker is not immediately aware that Vlad is a half-ghost (One of a Kind, Bitter Reunions)

--Danny seems to be aware he can fly at the beginning of the series (Mystery Meat)

--Danny has some measure of control over his transformations (Mystery Meat)

--Sam is responsible for the Ultra-Recyclo-Vegetarian menu at school in Mystery Meat – her 'secret project' in this chapter.

Okay, NEXT chapter will have ectopusses. And then the story will be nearly done!