Get ready for the first ever Monk and Danny Phantom crossover! WEEEEEE! I'm so HAPPY!. Anyway-on with the summery.

Danny's parents decide he needs straightening up, and who's the best at straightening anything? Why Jack's second cousin Adrian Monk of course! However, when Danny shows up in Sanfransisco, so does a certain fruitloop of a billionare. With kiddnapping, assasination attempts, murder, and the occasinal apperance by the Box Ghost, can Danny solve this case on his own before Monk does and keep his secret, or will more heads roll with Vlad's latest plot?

Now on with the reading.

Chapter 1—Bad Days

Danny Fenton slammed his locker in irritation and plain rage. Nearly a whole day of school missed because of Skulker and his girlfriend. After them came the technological wonder that just wouldn't shut up and take a hit. Technus became very good at dodging—since he was really a coward by heart, Technus spent most of his time running and making Danny chase him all over town. By the time he got to Lancer's class he was exhausted, bruised, and he was pretty sure he had a concussion from when Ember blasted him into that road construction site. Being run over by a cement truck was not fun. When Lancer caught him, it was detention after school and a whole other period to sleep through—and it just had to be chemistry. He nearly blew up the whole school because of his fatigue, but instead, he only scorched himself when some sort of acid mixed with another kind of acid and burned the skin off of his face. Trying to look angry without any eyebrows when your class was laughing at you is a very hard thing to accomplish; only Danny pulled it off and managed to shut the class up with one hard look. Lancer's scoff was quickly hidden as well when Danny showed up for his detention—which he spent nodding off and almost falling through the chair in a desire to get out of there. Finally, after all of that, with no breaks for meals or the chance to check himself over for any kind of wounds, Danny was ready to be home and do nothing—even if it meant homework was to be over looked. Too bad things never came easy for Danny.

"Hey Fentina!"

Danny growled, his teeth grinding so hard together he was sure the enamel was flaking off, and turned to face the only bad guy he couldn't beat up—Dash Baxter—qualified jackass.

When Danny turned around to look at Dash and his posse, the jocks stopped in shock at his appearance. Then of course the laughing commenced.

"Man, this is better than that baby get-up he wore for spirit week!" Kwan commented while bending over and trying to get air.

Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll laugh themselves to death, Danny thought darkly.

"Great, you had your laugh, now beat it," Danny barked and was ready to shove them out of the way, but of course Dash had other ideas.

"What did you do Fenton?" the football player asked, while grabbing Danny's shoulder to stop him. "Try a new way to kill yourself since the portal incident didn't do it?"

Oh no you didn't!

Ghosts had an instinctual dislike to be reminded of death since they were in denial. Danny couldn't be classified as death, but he was still sensitive around the area of death—mostly his. With his friends, if it was brought up, he would back out of the conversation before something happened. Sometimes his parents would discuss it since they were ghost hunters and he would kindly try and steer the subject to different avenues—not that it worked all of the time with his father blabbing on and on about nothing—but with the way Dash used it, it was a personal insult, and Danny had had enough for one day.

He brought his fist back and took a shot.

Adrian Monk, one of the world's most pristine and respectable detectives, was sitting on his couch, staring at the wall and moaning at it in even intervals. The phone was still in his hand, which was limply lying in his lap. He didn't even hear Natalie come in with her heals tapping on the wood of his apartment floor.

"Mr. Monk?" she asked, turning her head into his living room when she didn't see him in the kitchen.

She rose an eyebrow at his behavior, not really having remembered seeing him like this before.

"Mr. Monk?" she asked again, only it was out of more concern.

She came up close to him and waved a hand in his face. He flinched back, his arms coming up to cover his face. When he realized it was just Natalie, he put his arms back down and sighed.

"Don't do that," he begged, brown eyes pleading as he put the phone back on the hook.

"Mr. Monk, why did you call me? It sounded urgent but you're fine . . . I think."

"Oh Natalie, it's the worst thing possible," Monk groaned as he got up and began to pace before his coffee table. "It –it's just dreadful."

"Did somebody die?" Natalie said, but her voice said she had doubts—you never knew what was bad with Mr. Monk, but it was bound to be something incredibly stupid.

"No, no, it's just that . . . my cousin called me."

"You mean you have family besides Ambrose?" Natalie asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, but he's removed—very far removed. Anyway, he, asked me a favor."

"Did he want you to look into something? Some kind of case?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Does he need help moving?" she asked, feeling like he wasn't going to spit it out until she forced him too.

"I wish," Monk groaned into his hands. "He wants me to watch his kid."

Natalie was quiet for a moment, her lips pursing as she looked at the ceiling.

"Have you guys met—at all?" she asked, not believing that a relative of Monk would ask him for a favor—or anything . . . at all.

"Oh yes, every family reunion that my mother dragged me too," Monk sat back down on his couch. "Apparently, his kid's got into some kind of trouble and he thinks sending him here will help to straighten him out."

"Wait, how old is this kid?"

"Sixteen, same as Julie."

"Well, then that shouldn't be too much of a problem," Natalie suddenly frowned. "What am I saying? He's going to be staying here—in your house!"

"Hey Natalie—"

"No he's not staying with me," Natalie cut him off abruptly. "Mr. Monk, why did you say yes?"

"I couldn't, Jack never shuts up. He's crazy Natalie! He thinks ghosts exist. He's got a lab in his basement! His kid's probably contaminated with all kinds of . . . stuff. I guess I can always burn the apartment after he's gone."

"Mr. Monk, you are not going to burn down the apartment! Just call your cousin and say you changed your mind."

"I can't do that," Monk said.

"And why not?"

The ring of the door bell cut her off and her eyes got wide.

"When did he call?" she asked.

"Yesterday," Monk said as if stating a simple fact.