The man took pity on Tucker, and handed him some coins for the loo. Tucker grinned, thanking him, and ran off again. The man turned back to Danny and Sam.

"So, you are Danny? Correct?" he asked. Danny rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah."

"Danny Phantom?"

"That's me."

"Fabulous. And who are your friends?"

"That was Tucker, this is Sam,"

"Hi."

"And this is Alex."

The man introduced himself as Harry Bulman. He turned in his swivel chair, which moaned in protest, retrieving a fresh pot of tea and several disposable cups. Pouring himself a cup, he offered some to his guests. Sam took one with a smile, saying that, other than Alex, she was the only one to enjoy tea. Harry chuckled.

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"I'll have you know that this is a business, and you can't stay here. Do you have somewhere to stay? If you don't, someone here should be able to set you up with a fine hotel."

"Fine hotel? Do the rooms have internet?" Tucker asked, reentering the room. He had only caught the last part of what Harry had said, and assumed they were going to be hooked up with some fancy place to stay in. The man chuckled again.

"Yes, though I wouldn't recommend going to a hotel right now; it is quite early here. You only caught me here because I came in to work early today. Do you have any relatives living in the area?"

"Nope, none of us have anyone living over here. Alex lives somewhere here though."

"Shall I arrange for an escort?" Harry offered, reaching for his phone. Danny stopped him.

"We don't exactly know where Alex lives, sorry."

"Well, waiting for him to wake up may take too long. Why don't you give me his last name, and I'll look his address up for you." Harry took a sip of tea before setting the steaming cup down to pull a phone book out of one of his desk drawers.

"Okay then. Alex Rider."

"Alex Rider, you say?" He muttered, flipping through the pages of his book. Without looking up, he asked if Alex had any relatives.

"Uh, Ian Rider?" Danny offered, eye twitching. Harry nodded, turning several pages at once before reading a list of names.

"You'll have to forgive me; this book is at least two years old. Has Alex moved recently?"

"I don't think so."

Harry hummed a bit, nodding again to show he had heard the ghost, and wrote the address to Alex's house and some general directions on a scrap piece of paper. He slid the sheet across the desk and Sam quickly took it and read it, thanking the man and putting the paper away in her pocket. Harry looked up again after he had taken a final, and large, swig of tea. He laced his fingers together, and suddenly he was all business.

"Say, Mr. Phantom," he asked, getting Danny's attention in the wrong way. Danny stared at him, suddenly paranoid that they were about to be arrested. They were in the country illegally, and they didn't have passports with them. "I'll have you know; I am something of a journalist. Would you care to stay a few extra minutes for a quick interview? You have many fans over here, and they'd be thrilled to know that you're in the country."

Danny's mouth was open in silent horror. They just got here to escape from Vlad; the last thing they needed was to have their arrival announced in the paper! Vlad would find them within the hour, and then it would all be over. He, Danny, would be dead, and Alex kidnapped, or worse. Who was to say if Sam and Tucker would make it out safe? The halfa phased through the couch with shaky arms, picking Alex up again. Sam and Tucker were at his side in seconds, each back to holding a shoulder. Danny opened his mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. Harry rose from his seat, confused.

"Mr. Phantom? Is everything alright?"

"No interviews." Danny said flatly. Harry looked surprised.

"Are you sure? Not even a small chat?"

"No."

Danny took to the air, quickly phasing everyone out of the cramped office, leaving Harry frustrated. The reporter stared at the spot on his ceiling where the ghost boy had just flown through. Quickly, he made a decision. He sat back down at his desk, pulling a pad of paper and a pen out. With an annoyed sigh, he began to write down as much of what Phantom had said that he could remember. Luckily, he had remembered a lot. Setting that aside, Harry got on to his computer, pulling up the best photo of Phantom he could find on the internet.

Later, at a decent hour, he'd go to Alex Rider's house to try again at getting the interview.

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"It said that Alex lives between King's Road and the River Thames." Sam called over the rush of wind, reciting the information she had remembered from the address Henry gave her. Danny nodded.

"I can get a map up on my PDA," Tucker offered. "It'd be better if we weren't moving though. Can we stop for a bit?"

Danny nodded, flying down to rest on top of a building. Immediately, Tucker had his PDA out, and was in the process of getting a map up. Sam told him the address, and he typed it in. With a mechanical chirp, the small device charted out the course. Tucker grinned, showing the map to Danny. The halfa studied the map, looking up and around him once or twice.

"We're close. His house is that way, I think." Danny finally said, nodding to his left. "Let's get going."

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Danny had been right on when pointing out where the house was. They made it to Alex's house in five minutes. Checking the letter box once more just to be sure, Danny phased them through the front door. Sam and Tucker dropped off as soon as they were solid again, and Danny set Alex on the couch in the living room before sinking into the plush chair next to the couch. The blinds over the windows were shut, and Danny quickly transformed back into Fenton.

Tucker felt around in the dark until he had found a vacant chair to claim as his own. Sam busied herself with finding a light switch. When she found one, she quickly turned it on, flooding the room in light.

"Man, I'm beat." Tucker said, adjusting his chair so he could prop his feet up. "Are we just going to stay here or something?"

"Until Alex wakes up, I guess."

"Should we try to wake him up? It's been over an hour."

Danny frowned, getting up from his chair to look at Alex. The spy looked fine, only tired and in a slight need for a shower. He still smelled of smoke from the warehouse fire. The halfa sighed, walking off to the kitchen. Rummaging around until he found a clean rag, he ran it under cool water from the tap, wringing it out and bringing it back to place on Alex's forehead.

"I don't really know what to do. He should be fine though, right? I think my powers help me, I know they do actually. Alex doesn't have any powers, so that's probably why he's like this." He babbled, looking away from the spy to the next room. "What do you guys think? He'll be fine when he wakes up, right?"

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No one knew exactly what to say, so they just went off to fetch some blankets from around the house before arranging three temporary beds on the remaining chairs and the carpeted floor. Danny gave his seat to Sam, refusing to sit there because Tucker had claimed his seat from earlier, leaving the only other spot to sleep on the spot on the floor. Sam finally accepted, kicking off her boots and taking a knitted blanket before curling up in her small bed of sorts. Another blanket had been laid across Alex, and Tucker already had his own and was snoring away. Danny quietly said goodnight to Sam, turning off the light and flying back to his spot. He had been given a pillow due to the fact he was to be sleeping on the floor. He was asleep as soon as his head sank into the feather down.

Thankfully, his sleep was devoid of nightmares.

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It wasn't until, roughly four hours later, that they were disturbed. Someone had come knocking at the door, instantly waking the halfa. Danny cried out, jumping up out of his bed and transforming. Sam and Tucker blearily opened their eyes, the Goth scowling at the door.

"Who the heck is it?" she grumbled. "Tuck, you get it; you're the closest one to the door anyway."

"Why me?" the boy yawned in protest. He turned over, ducking back under his blanket. "They'll go away if we ignore them."

Danny wasn't as easily convinced, and flew over to the door, turning himself invisible and intangible before poking his head through the wood to see who it was. He made a face upon seeing Harry, and pulled back, dropping the invisibility and intangibility. Not knowing whether to go back to the living room or answer the door, he simply stood there. Harry, unaware of his audience, knocked again impatiently.

Clearly, Harry knew they were there. A journalist wouldn't just walk up to a random house empty handed after all. Well, he had a pad of paper and a pen, so empty handed wasn't exactly the right word.

"Mr. Phantom? Are you there?" the man called through the door. From the next room, Danny could hear Sam growl in annoyance. Steeling himself for battle, the halfa opened the door. Harry had his hand raised, about to knock again. With a smile, he lowered the hand.

"Why, hello again, Mr. Phantom!" he said cheerily. Danny scowled up at him.

"It's Danny."

"Very well, Danny then. How are you?"

"I was sleeping. So were my friends."

"Well, it is seven in the morning-"

"Which makes it about one in the morning back home."

Harry sucked in some air through clenched teeth, looking properly embarrassed.

"Ah, well, that can't be helped now."

"What do you want?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you a few questions."

"I already said no."

"Oh, these aren't for the paper! It's for my nephew, he's such a Phan."

Danny sighed, not believing the man for a second and opening the door a little further to allow him in anyway. He led him to the kitchen, and sat down at the table. Harry sat across from him, smiling.

"Thank you, Danny. May I ask you a few questions now?"

"Only if they aren't too personal." Danny said flatly, leaning to the side in his chair and resting his head in his hand. Harry smiled again, pointing to the boy's clothes.

"What happened to your suit?"

"It got dirty, and I don't exactly keep extras of it."

Harry nodded, scribbling the information down. "And, do you always, except for now, wear it?"

"Sure, if only out of habit. Ghosts don't really require washing their clothes all the time like humans, and it would be stupid to always change outfits."

"Were you wearing the suit when you died?"

"You could say that. Next subject, please."

Harry nodded once more, scribbling down "Phantom is sensitive over topic of his death. Event?"

"How did you meet the other people traveling with you?" Harry asked, waving in the general direction of the living room. Danny raised an eyebrow. Thinking he had confused the ghost boy, the man rephrased his question. "What I mean to say is: did you know them before your death?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

Another scribble. "Traveling with friends from when he was alive?"

"How did you die?"

"What?"

"It's a topic everyone over here has been wondering about for ages, Danny. You look different from every other ghost, after all. Something happened to make you the unique character that you are today."

Danny couldn't help but roll his green eyes. Harry missed the gesture, and pressed on.

"Who are you running from, the one who killed you, perhaps?"

Harry saw the flash of terror across the boy's face; the haunted look in his green eyes, and knew he had hit a home run. He quickly set pen to paper, prepared to write the information down. He was stopped by a very small blast of ecto energy aimed at the paper. It burned a large hole straight through, destroying all the notes he had taken and half of his pen. Ink dribbled out, staining the man's fingers and what was left of the notepad. Harry looked up at the boy with a tragic expression.

"Danny! Those were all of my notes!"

"You can't have them anymore. Get out, this interview is over."

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AN: As far as the time difference thing goes… Well, math is not my cup of tea, and I wrote most of this at about one in the morning. I just checked what time it was in London on my phone, and typed that in! It also fit with the timeline of the rest of the story... if one pretends they were in the Ghost Zone for a long time...

Can anyone guess where Harry is from? ;D