As much as I wish that this story got more readers (and reviewers), I understand why it might not get as much traffic as some. Crossover tend to have fewer readers in general, especially if one of the fandoms in the crossover isn't particularly mainstream or new. So thanks to the people who do read and to my loyal reviewer, nightmaster000, for taking the time to enjoy the story. Hopefully you'll continue to like it as things progress.

Though further studies are necessary, initial results suggest that the structure of the "Ghost Zone" does not reflect normal forms of geography, geometry, and physics. Instead, it appears to be closer to a Moebius Loop or a Klein bottle, but not quite.

It has been hypothesized, however, that there is something beyond the "Ghost Zone" that is not composed purely of ectoplasm. Certain readings have supported this hypothesis, but nothing definitive has been proven. Locating, let alone accessing and studying, such a hypothetical area will be difficult due to the unusual geography and geometry of the "Ghost Zone." If such a location does exist, predictions about its general traits and the differences that may be present in the inhabitants cannot be made at this time.

-Excerpt from "Initial Studies of the 'Ghost Zone' Through an Artificial Ghost Portal" by Madeline Fenton

"This is pretty nice," remarked Lydia, gazing over the shelves with a small hint of a smile. "We didn't have anything like this in Winter Rivers. The place was too small for it."

"They have Goth poetry readings here fairly often," Sam said, leading her through the maze of books with familiar ease.

Sam was actually pretty happy for an excuse to go to her favorite bookstore. Helping Danny did cut into her free time and she did like looking for new books with someone who appreciated them. Her mom especially didn't, wishing her daughter would read something more happy and cheerful. Even Tucker and Danny held only a limited attention for dark and gloomy literature, preferring to watch horror movies with her instead. And she did like the films as much as they did. But sometimes she wanted Gothic literature instead. And since her friends wanted her to keep an eye on Lydia anyway, Sam dragged her to the Gothic bookstore as soon as class was over.

Besides, it also gave her the chance to pick up some new research material. When Danny arrived at school that morning, he mentioned a particularly odd conversation with the Box Ghost. None of them liked it. There were too many questions, too many mysteries. Sam knew they needed more information and, outside of interrogating another ghost, the best they could hope for was that she could find a book about the "Netherworld" or the "Mortal Bride." Still, there was no reason why she couldn't hunt of useful tomes for research at the same time she was hanging out with the new fellow Goth student.

"Sounds interesting," said Lydia, pulling out a book and reading the back cover. "It might be fun to attend one sometime." She paused briefly before she asked, "How long have ghosts been around here?"

"A while," Sam answered honestly. "They keep popping back up, no matter what anyone tries to do. We're practically the most haunted place on Earth."

"Where are they haunting?"

She frowned, "Wherever they want to or wherever they can find somewhere free. The Lunch Lady, the ghost from yesterday, prefers the lunch room at school or somewhere else with food. Others have their own preferences, but they can show up anywhere."

"So they don't have proper haunting perimeters. And she didn't look right," the girl muttered thoughtfully. "Definitely something different." Noticing Sam's questioning look, Lydia said, "Do you know where they are coming from? It isn't normal for people to see so many ghosts around."

Sam stared at Lydia, all of her focus now on the new girl. Danny was right; there was something strange about her. She was curious about ghosts, but she also acted like she was familiar with them. That paradox between knowledge and ignorance flickered in her mind, leaving her mildly suspicious. The girl was hiding something important about her past and who she was. Sam could feel it. Everyone was entitled to have secrets, but those that involved ghosts tended to cause trouble in Amity Park. Sam knew she needed to figure out what was going on.

Possible methods of uncovering that secret started prowling around the back of her head. Until one solidified, however, Sam chose to continue as normal.

"They come from the Ghost Zone. You'd have to ask Danny's parents if you want to know more about it. They're the resident experts on ghosts."

Sam felt rather experienced at knowing how much information to reveal and when to lie. Keeping Danny's secret ensured she and Tucker mastered that skill. She knew how to figure out what made sense for her to know and what made sense for her say. The Fentons were well-known for their obsession and research in regards to ghosts. They would talk about them with anyone who'd listen. Some of the population of Amity Park would have undoubtedly heard about the portal and the Ghost Zone, so it was logical for Danny's best friends to be aware of it. It would be more suspicious if she didn't mention the Ghost Zone to Lydia when she asked those sorts of questions.

"All of them are coming from the zone? You don't deal with the others?" asked the new girl, a thoughtful expression on her face. "No wonder Danny Phantom has to keep dealing with aggressive and crazy ghosts who run around without any rules. Those are the ones that tend to stay there if I remember right."

She seemed to be distracted, staring off into the distance and talking to herself by that point instead of Sam. It was like Lydia and her thoughts were a million miles away. Sam, however, was completely focused on her fellow Goth. Alarm bells were ringing in her mind. Lydia knew too much and was hinting at knowing even more. It was possible Lydia was making things up to seem more impressive. She'd seen other Goths try it, trying to act knowledgeable about ghosts and such because it added to their darker persona. But Sam knew the difference. This didn't feel like an act. Lydia knew what she was talking about.

Sam, on the other hand, couldn't reveal her own extensive knowledge. She needed to act like she knew some, but no more than any other girl with enthusiasm for darker and scarier things. She couldn't act like someone who knew several of the regular ghosts by face and name. If she obviously knew too much, it would become obvious that she was more closely involved with ghost hunting than a normal teen should be.

"What…?" Sam began awkwardly. "I don't know what…"

"Do his parents know?" she interrupted.

Sam blinked, "What?"

"Danny's parents," said Lydia, the volume of her voice dropping. "You said his parents are experts. Do they know he's a ghost?"

Time might as well have stopped for all she noticed. Sam stared in stunned silence, her mind no longer working for the moment. It was the casual and confident way Lydia said it that really threw her for a loop. Denial and confusion didn't even have a chance to appear. The shock was simply too overwhelming.

Then common sense and her natural reaction to protect his secret kicked in and she started glancing around frantically. While reasonably successful and prosperous for such a place with a specialized stock selection, the bookstore was mostly empty. The clientele tended to prefer shopping later in the evening after the sun set. The cashier was near the entrance and the only other customer in the place was about four aisles away. There was no chance that any of them could have overheard Lydia. Sam allowed herself a brief sigh of relief at that realization before remember that Lydia knew Danny's secret.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, forcing her voice to be as even as possible.

Lydia frowned, "I thought you would have known. Not only is he your friend, but you don't seem as oblivious to what's in front of you as some people. The same name and mostly the same features? He's lucky that most of the living ignore the strange and unusual."

She opened her mouth to argue and persuade Lydia that she was wrong, that she was completely off-track when it came to Danny. But nothing happened when she tried to speak. Lydia was right. Honestly, the fact that no one ever noticed the similarities in name and appearance was a minor miracle. The white hair, the green eyes, the jumpsuit, and the slight glow shouldn't be enough to disguise him. The only explanation why no one else ever noticed was because it was supposedly impossible to be human and a ghost.

Finding her voice finally, Sam whispered weakly, "You can't tell anyone."

"I didn't plan to. I can keep secrets. And I'm used to people not believing me about things outside of normal. If you trust me, I'll try to trust you," she assured. "Though I'd love to know how he changes appearances like that. Most of them can't change their hair color and I only know one who can change his clothes."

Sam latched onto the important part of what she said. It was a piece to the puzzle that was Lydia Deetz, offering a small clue about her behavior so far.

"You know ghosts? From before you moved here?"

"A few. My house in Winter River is haunted," said Lydia. "I've dealt with ghosts before. But they're… different here."

The afternoon was certainly not going how Sam originally envisioned. Next time Danny suspected someone was hiding a pretty big secret, she would definitely believe him. She needed to tell Tucker and Danny what was going on. She needed to let the boys know that Lydia figured out who Phantom was. There was no way she was handling this alone. But it was also something that she didn't want to do over the phone. This was a conversation that should be done in person.

"I think you should come with me," Sam said. "We should talk to Danny. I… yeah, we need to talk about everything." She paused a moment, grabbing a useful-looking book from the shelves. "Want to pay for these books and head over to Fenton Works?"

She'd heard vague mentions of Fenton Works already, but Lydia hadn't really paided attention before. Now she was beginning to realize why it was apparently a note-worthy location. Most of the structure was pretty standard, matching the buildings surrounding it. But then the giant observatory-thing attached to the top and the garish neon sign that ran down the side destroyed any sense of normality. Lydia knew the structure would have given her father an aneurism and Delia would be redecorating already. She had to admit it wasn't exactly subtle, but she'd seen stranger.

"Remember, don't tell his parents anything," Sam whispered right before someone opened the door.

For a moment, Lydia thought she was being confronted by a large orange wall. It was only after she took a second look that she realized she was instead facing a tall, broad, sturdy, orange-jumpsuit-wearing man who was merely built like a brick wall. The man was clearly Danny's father, sharing the teen's black hair (and because of the fact he was in Danny's house). The cheerful smile on his face made him seem particularly friendly and welcoming, which helped combat any intimidation factor his size might provide.

"Sam, I didn't know you were coming over this evening," he remarked. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Lydia Deetz," she answered. "She just moved to Amity Park. I was hoping that Danny could help me show her around. Is he busy?"

Somehow his grin managed to get bigger as he said, "I think he's upstairs working on homework, but you can ask him. Come on in, girls." Lydia found the man placing his hand on her shoulders and steering her into the house. "Maddie, we have company."

"Who is it, Jack?" a woman asked, poking her head out of the kitchen.

Just like she figured out the man was Danny's father, Lydia quickly guessed she was his mother. It was a little harder to tell, though. Her teal jumpsuit had the hood up and goggles covered her eyes, exposing only the smallest hint of her face. The most obvious similarity to her son was the slight, skinny build they both shared.

"Hi, Mrs. Fenton," greeted Sam. "This is Lydia. We were hoping to talk to Danny."

"Lydia? I don't remember meeting her before," the woman said, frowning briefly.

Hoping to take advantage of the resident ghost experts and learn more about the ghosts from the zone, Lydia said, "I just moved here with my aunt and uncle. Danny and his friends have been making me feel welcome. Things are certainly different here with all these ghosts running around…" She spotted the glimmer of interest and excitement appear in their eyes at the word. "People say you two know a lot about them."

"Do we? Of course we do," said Jack Fenton. "You should see our lab."

"That would be interesting," she said.

Maddie suggested, "Sam, why don't you go upstairs and get Danny while we give Lydia the grand tour."

For a moment, it looked like the other black-haired girl would argue against leaving the new girl alone with the pair, but Lydia quickly said, "That would be perfect. Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton."

Sam gave her a warning look, probably still worried about her spilling secrets, but she then turned towards the stairs. Before she could actually start climbing them though, Lydia found herself being cheerfully shuffled down to the basement.

Danny's efforts to divide his attention between finishing Mr. Lancer's assignment since he couldn't afford another horrible grade and looking over his files about ghosts in the hopes of finding a clue about the "Netherworld," the "Mortal Bride," or the mystery specter who freaked out the Box Ghost were abruptly interrupted as his bedroom door was flung open. The shock of the sudden surprise intrusion sent the boy tumbling from his seat to the floor. He considered just lying there for a second, but a pair of hands grabbed his shirt and yanked him upright.

"We have a situation, Danny," said Sam, skipping any form of greeting or explanation for the unexpected interruption. "You need to come downstairs now."

"Sam? What… weren't you at the bookstore with Lydia? What happened?"

"Yeah, we were. And that's the problem. She down in the lab with your parents," she said quickly. "Me, you, and Tucker need to talk to her. You were right. She was hiding something. And now she knows even more."

Not understanding much about what she was talking about, Danny asked, "Could you back up and slow down, Sam? What's going on with Lydia? Why do we need to talk to her? What happened?"

"She knows. Somehow, she knows."

He froze. Danny realized exactly what she meant without Sam saying anything more specific. There was no other reason why the phrase "she knows" would be said so urgently and with a thread of panic. She had to mean that Lydia discovered his secret. Lydia knew the truth.

"How?" he asked numbly.

"She said she saw the resemblance. She also said she would keep it secret, but I really don't want to leave her alone with your parents for long," she said. "So let's grab her, call Tucker, and figure out what we're going to do."

The idea of a near stranger knowing he was part ghost was scary enough. Leaving that near stranger alone with his currently ignorant parents was completely terrifying. Yeah, they needed to get down there before something horrible happened.

They had a portal to the Ghost Zone in their basement.

She could barely believe it. The round metal structure that reminded Lydia of a spaceship door from certain cheesy sci-fi movies sat there innocently on the far side of the basement, the opening to the glowing-green and ectoplasm-filled zone completely and utterly visible to anyone who wanted to poke their head through. She'd seen the unnatural glow before, including under the crack of the attic door the first time Barbara and Adam went to visit their caseworker. Her old home in Winter River also technically contained a portal to the afterlife, so she knew it was possible. The one in the attic, however, was a chalk drawing on some bricks, only usable by ghosts, led to the Netherworld, and spent most of the time closed. This was a gaping hole in reality that anyone could mess with. No wonder so many denizens of the Ghost Zone were showing up in Amity Park. Where some people kept a pool table in their basement, the Fenton family had a welcome mat for any wandering ghosts to use.

Lydia tried to focus on the hilarious notion of the portal casually kept in the basement. It was so strange to realize what they managed to create with science was generally done by other ghosts using chalk or markers. She thought about how her old home's basement held her dark room for photography and this one was turned into a mad scientists' lab. Lydia tried to think of anything else because she truly regretted her decision to accept the offered tour.

They hunted ghosts.

As she fought to contain her growing anger, the jumpsuit-wearing couple cheerfully described their inventions and displayed the weapons they used with horrifying frequency. They spoke of experiments they had planned and the proper techniques to dissect a ghosts should they locate and capture a suitably strong one. They cheerfully talked about ghosts like they were lab rats or germs on a slide.

Lydia tried to ignore their words and think about other things, but her mind didn't want to cooperate. While they discussed the idea of ripping apart ghosts molecule by molecule, she kept remembering the Maitlands crumbling and withering from an accidentally exorcism. She remembered him, completely at her aunt's mercy and unable to escape whatever fate she wanted to make him suffer. Aunt Melinda saw ghosts as "things," unnatural and horrible things that didn't deserve to exist. And the Fentons obviously saw them just as things as well. Lydia's frustration and anger was slowly building regardless of what she tried to do.

"Lydia, are you all right?" asked Maddie Fenton, apparently noticing her distracted state.

"You're just like her," she muttered, staring at the concrete floor.

"I'm sorry? I couldn't hear you."

"Why?" she said, her head snapping up to meet their startled expressions. "How can any of you live with yourselves when you act like this? I just don't get it."

"Lydia?" Danny called as he and Sam hurried down the stairs.

She ignored them. Lydia didn't dare provoke her aunt too much. She couldn't risk the woman retaliating against the Maitlands. But she wanted to let her feelings be known. She wanted to lash out. Everything was just going wrong with her life. Her parents, Barbara and Adam, him… It wasn't fair. Lydia hated being powerless and trapped, but she seemed to keep ending up in that situation. There was too much anger, frustration, and pain for her to contain and hide it forever. Yelling at someone felt like a healthier method of dealing than allowing it to fester, especially since that tended to lead to worse ideas. She needed to vent and rant for once in her life. She needed to strike out and do something. And apparently the Fentons were going to be on the receiving end of her semi-misplaced aggression.

"I understand some of the ghosts are dangerous. Honestly, I do. And I know they sometimes have to be stopped from hurting someone. But that doesn't mean you should treat them like unfeeling objects. You can't just hurt them, experiment on them, torture them, or destroy them simply because you want to see if you can. There are laws to keep people from doing that to animals. Why do you think its right to do it to ghosts?"

There was a short second where the adults seemed stunned silent by her outburst, but they recovered quickly. Maddie stepped forward, a calming and what felt like a patronizing smile on her face. At least it felt patronizing to Lydia at that moment. Any other time, she might like the odd maternal sensation she was noticing from the woman.

"I know Sam is involved in those environmental causes and I'm guessing you might be too," she said, looking at Lydia's similar dress style. "And I know you probably didn't deal with ghosts before you came to Amity Park, but they aren't really like people or animals. They don't have cells or other recognizable biological processes."

"Of course not. They're ghosts. Why should they be exactly the same? The ones you deal with come from another dimension," she snapped, gesturing towards the portal. "It would be stranger if everything was the same. But just because they're ghosts doesn't mean they aren't people too."

"That's a common misconception," stated Jack. "They aren't the souls of the dearly departed coming back to haunt us."

"Well, maybe not all of them," Lydia muttered under her breath.

"They are ectoplasmic manifestation that sometimes resembles post-human consciousness," he continued. "They only look like people occasionally."

"So just because they're made of ectoplasm instead of normal DNA or something and because you don't think they came from dead humans, that makes it okay? That makes it right to treat them like… like a model car you bought from the store that you want to smash with a hammer? Or a lifeless mannequin? Or like a bunch of mold samples under a microscope? No, it isn't right."

"I know this upsets you for some reason," said Maddie carefully, a slight frown starting to form. "But you have to look at this more like a scientist. You can't let yourself get emotional and start anthropomorphizing them. Look at them objectively."

"So ignore the fact that they provide clear demonstrations of emotions, pain responses, critical thinking skills, complicated thought processes, desires, motivations, and self-awareness?" asked Lydia, crossing her arms. "Fine. My grades in science aren't the greatest, but that's more because I didn't want to dissect a frog than because I didn't study. Let's ignore all that evidence that supports the idea that ghosts are sentient beings. Your hypothesis is apparently that ghosts aren't really sentient and deserve to be treated like inanimate objects. If I remember my scientific method correctly, that means you must have tested this hypothesis in a reasonable, repeatable experiment. You did test that hypothesis before your attempts to rip them apart, right?"

She saw it. The look of discomfort. They didn't do it. They just assumed that of course anything so different must be completely inhuman monsters that couldn't feel and didn't deserve any fair treatment. Lydia could see they wanted to end the conversation, but she couldn't let it go.

Just because she couldn't stop her aunt, change her mind, or even have an honest conversation about ghosts without worrying what Aunt Melinda would do to those she loved didn't mean she would let two more people run around with similar mindsets. She couldn't see the Maitlands or him because of people like the Fentons and her aunt. It wasn't fair.

The girl caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Sam and Danny. They were staring at her and the parents with a completely flabbergasted look on their faces. Lydia didn't give them any more attention. She wasn't ready to stop venting her feelings yet.

"You didn't. You just assumed. Other scientists go around testing the intelligence and self-awareness of dolphins, chimps, and even ravens to find out how similar they are to people. They don't assume they couldn't have emotions and have critical thinking just because they live in the ocean, are covered in fur, or have wings. They study and test it in a humane method. But you ignore the possibility just because they're from somewhere else. They talk, think, and display clear emotions, but you ignore it. And then you base all your other experiments and theories and hypothesis off of that basic assumption. That means all your data could be flawed because you have an unproven and possibly incorrect assumption. That's not just cruel and heartless. That's bad science. I can't help wondering how you determined that ghosts aren't dead people. Did you test that or did you automatically assume it too?"

Lydia's temper rarely flared. She was a patient person. Otherwise she wouldn't be able to deal with him. It took a lot of effort and time for her temper to become noticeable. But it occasionally happened. All the stresses and frustrations of her life managed this time to bring it to a sharp flame that sought to burn those within reach. But just like it took a long time for her temper to strike, it tended to burn out quickly. The girl found herself breathing hard as she finished speaking, but the worst of her anger had dissipated for the moment.

Then, realizing exactly how much of a scene she'd made, Lydia glanced around. She found four people staring at her. Some looked stunned and nervous. Others seemed uncomfortable and uncertain. No matter which of them chose to speak, she knew that she wouldn't like the conversation that would follow. For the moment, she could think of only one course of action.

Shoving her way past the two teenagers, Lydia bolted up the stairs and ran out the front door.

Well, that was interesting...

My most loyal reviewer so far did ask if I would be inserting certain "Beetlejuice" cartoon characters into the story. Let me take a moment to answer that question. No, I will not. I am most familiar with the film and only managed to watch a couple of episodes of the cartoon when I was younger. Basically, this story would be about ninety-nine percent influence from the film and one percent influence from the cartoon. I am sorry, but hopefully you'll enjoy the story regardless.

Remember, reviews are always welcome and appreciated. I love feedback.