The Suave and the Awkward

by Dream Trance

Danny splits himself to practice kissing, and while it is as awkward as you would expect kissing yourself to be, circumstances keep arising that are easier to deal with apart than as one. With so much time apart, the question sets in: who has more right to exist if Fenton and Phantom are no longer fragments of a whole? Character Study. Established Gray Ghost, slow burn Pitch Pearl

22. Chapter 22

We have reached a pivotal point. Some secrets aren't meant to be kept forever, but the fallout can be delayed if Fenton takes a leap of faith

---

Chapter 22
The Phone

"The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart." -St. Jerome

---

"Perhaps, start at the beginning…?" Phantom had said, as if that made anything about what Fenton needed to talk about any easier.

Fenton glanced at the office secretary, but she was ignoring Fenton. Like all the adults, the secretary appeared either indifferent or ignorant to whatever drama the students were involving themselves in. Fenton stood up from his chair and moved away. He approached the windows that looked out on a hallway, glancing over his shoulder at the secretary who was hopefully out of hearing range if he kept his voice low. Other kids his age might be content to gossip and speculate about Phantom liking Fenton, but if an adult in authority found out, they might feel compelled to tell Fenton's parents.

That would be...bad. Whatever Jack had agreed to that morning, Fenton couldn't see his mom or dad accepting the news Phantom had a crush on their son with anything less than hostility.

"I was walking with Tucker and Sam to second period," Fenton whispered. He placed his hand on the glass and stared at the drinking fountain across the empty hallway. "The classroom was really loud. Dash was shouting a lot, but I thought I could use that as a distraction and sneak inside."

"But it didn't work," Phantom guessed, "because they were talking about the two of us?"

Fenton moved his hand off the window and pressed it over his face instead. "Yeah…"

"Are you hurt?"

Fenton blew out a breath. The bruise on his back was upset with him, but… "No. I'm fine. But wait, how did you know I got into a—"

"It's all over Paulina's website. More so your, ah, confession than your fight, but the news has spread far already."

Fenton lowered his hand from his face so he could lightly bang his forehead against the window. "Shit."

Softly, as if Phantom weren't sure if he should say it, Phantom admitted, "I was worried…"

Fenton closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm fine, Phantom. Aside from making everything ten times worse, I'm fucking brilliant."

"Don't let it stress you, Fenton."

"How can it not stress me?" He banged his head against the glass one more time. "I just ruined any chance of things going back to normal!"

"They only have your word; it's not as though they sawme kiss you. The debate right now is over whether or not you lied to get attention."

"Oh," Fenton grumbled, "much better."

"It could be worse."

"Don't."

"Why didyou tell Dash?" Phantom asked, his voice turning curious. "You couldn't even admit I had a crush on you the last time we spoke, but you had no trouble saying I kissed you?"

Fenton rubbed a hand over his face, the heel of his palm pressing hard into his cheek. "I don't know…"

"Don't you?"

Fenton bit down on his lip and kept his hand pressed over his eyes. Dash had been yelling insults and accusations in his face. He had shaken Fenton by his shirt. Every time Fenton tried to speak, he would interrupt and shake him some more. Fenton hadn't had time to think or fight back. He only reacted, emotions erupting until he was shouting back at Dash. "It just happened," he whispered softly. "I didn't mean to. It just…burst out."

Phantom hummed.

"I didn't even realize what I was saying," he admitted, shoulders curling inward. "Did I really mess everything up?"

"I doubt it. The rumors were already leaning toward a one-sided attraction on my part."

Fenton frowned. "One-sided? They were?"

"Yes, since you have a girlfriend and I, as far as they know, don't."

"That hasn't stopped them from assuming things about us," Fenton muttered darkly.

"No, because I am hot, amazing, strong, kind, enchanting, charming, clever, flexible—"

"Okay, okay," Fenton groaned, rolling his eyes, "I get it."

"Girlfriend or no, who could resist someone like me?" Phantom concluded smugly. "Haven't you heard I can lift a school bus with one hand tied behind my back?"

"You should get off that website before your head explodes."

Phantom laughed.

"Is that what we're aiming for now? That you're—" Should he? Fenton bit his lip to stop himself, but…if Phantom could do it, why couldn't he? Fenton released his lip, and his reflection in the glass smiled a crooked, impish smile. "—hopelessly in love with me?"

Phantom laughed again, and Fenton's smile stretched wider. "Oh, you are teasing menow?"

"Well…if the shoe fits…"

"Ha. At least you can say it now."

"Say what?"

"That I'm in love with you." The words registered in Fenton's ears, his mouth dropped open to protest, but Phantom quickly added, "An exaggeration, obviously, but you get what I mean."

Fenton snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat. "Whatever. That's what we're doing now, right?"

"Yes. That may be easier for you, anyway. You are fond of denying there is anything mutual between us."

"Because there isn't."

Phantom sighed. "Yes, exactly like that." He laughed then, and Fenton's brow furrowed. "You are a wonder, Fenton."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing important. By the way, Valerie wants to talk."

Fenton flinched violently. He hadn't even thought about Valerie, but of course she was going to hear about what had happened. "Shit!"

"Must you, Fenton?"

Fenton pushed a hand into his hair. "Fuck," he swore pointedly. Phantom made an annoyed noise. "She's going to want to talk about you kissing me. Damn it! I knew I messed everything up! What if she asks about that one kiss and it somehow leads to her finding out about the others?" The practice ones, or maybe even the first one, the one that got out of hand—the one that resulted in a damn hickey. There was no excuse for a hickey. Fenton groaned. "Shit, shit shit…"

"She didn't say what she wanted to talk about," Phantom said calmly, soothingly, "only that she wishes to talk on your way home or sometime after school."

A little bubble of hope formed in Fenton's chest. "Not during lunch?"

"No. She doesn't want to be eavesdropped on by the other students."

They would eavesdrop, wouldn't they? And worse because lunch was…

Fenton was supposed to…

Fenton groaned. He turned away from the windows, pressed his back against them, and allowed himself to slide to the floor. He glanced at the secretary, worried she might have noticed his hushed conversation, but she still seemed oblivious, typing away at something on her computer.

"What?" Phantom asked. "What's wrong?"

"Everything?" Fenton bent his legs and pressed his forehead into his knees. "Starr is making me eat with her and the others during lunch."

"Ahh…"

Fenton grabbed a fistful of his jeans. "It was already going to be bad because they were going to ask a lot of questions about you and our past, but now? With this stupid kiss thing…" Fenton groaned again. He let go of his jeans and wrapped his arm around his thighs instead, hugging his legs to his chest.

"Don't go then," Phantom suggested. "Hide and eat in one of the classrooms like we did yesterday. I can let you into one of the locked ones so they can't reach you. Actually, this might work out well for us. I need to talk to you."

"We are talking," Fenton muttered.

"No, I'm distracting you from what just happened while you wait for your turn with Lancer or the principal."

Fenton squirmed, a blush rising to his cheeks. That was certainly part of the reason, he had been willing to call Phantom, but how had Phantom caught on so easily? Was he really that obvious? "I also wanted to make sure you weren't upset…" he admitted sheepishly.

"I'm not. I was more worried about the fight, honestly. I did say you could tell them all I kissed you."

"I know," Fenton mumbled. "But the way it got out is…"

"Yeah…"

"What do you want to talk about?" Fenton asked warily, changing the subject.

"Valerie, mostly, but I think we need to touch on a few other topics as well."

"If it's to talk about us…" Fenton started, his wariness increasing.

Phantom sighed. "We don't have to."

"We're still supposed to be keeping our distance. This—the phone calls and texting—this is all just, you know, sort of a loophole. But if we start talking about, like, how you feel and stuff like that, it's going to be like…" Fenton searched for a way to explain it. "It's just, it's…"

"You wish for us to maintain an emotional distance as well," Phantom suggested. His voice sounded suddenly subdued, the vibrant tone he had gained earlier that morning giving way to sadness again.

Fenton bit his lip. Fix this, he thought, but how could he? Phantom had found the words Fenton couldn't. They needed to maintain distance, even the emotional kind.

The ground shook as someone stomped toward Fenton. He jerked his head off his knees, but he reacted too late to stop Dash from ripping Sam's phone from his hand.

"Hey!" Fenton pressed his palms against the glass behind him and started climbing to his feet. Kwan shoved him back down. "Give it back!"

Dash pressed the phone to his ear and snapped, "You better get your lying not-boyfriend under control or else, Samantha!"

Fenton's jaw dropped and he stared wide-eyed up at Dash.

The scowl on Dash's face froze, his eyebrows lifting. They snapped back down a moment later, and Dash snarled, "Yeah? Who the hell are you?"

"It's not Sam?" Kwan asked, surprised.

"No, it's some dude with a death wish," Dash replied, scowling again.

Kwan gasped. "Is it Phantom?" He let go of Fenton's shoulder and pressed against Dash's side in order to hear too.

"Of course it's not Phantom!" Dash shoved him back. "I told you, there's no way Phantom cares about this loser."

Fenton climbed hastily to his feet. "This loser who kicked your butt!" He threw himself at Dash, collided with his chest, and reached for Sam's phone. He was only a head shorter than him now, he didn't have to reach far, but Dash shoved Fenton backward before he could grab it. He landed against the glass windows, grunting.

Dash lowered the phone and peered at the caller ID and icon on the screen. Danny's name. Phantom's image. Dash's face turned red. "What the fuck kind of sick game are you playing at, Fenton?"

Giddy, Kwan cheered, "It is Phantom!"

"No, it's not!" Dash snapped, placing the phone against his ear again. "Would you stop already, it's just his picture."

"I've never seen that picture before," Kwan protested.

"It's—it's Sam's phone," Fenton said desperately. "You would have to ask her. I, uh, my phone is broken! I, I, I'm borrowing hers today."

Kwan gave him a strange look. "But you were talking to Sam on the phone earlier this morning, weren't you?"

Fenton cringed. "Oh, uh…she used Tucker's?"

Dash snorted, reacting to something Phantom had said on the phone. "Your lame friend is suggesting you stop talking."

Fenton bit down hard on his lip.

Dash lowered the phone from his ear and inspected the case, twisting his wrist this way and that. Fenton hadn't paid much attention to how it looked before. At the time he had borrowed it, he hadn't cared that the phone was purple, or that black spiderwebs crisscrossed the transparent case, but now he stared at the phone like it had just betrayed his secret.

Ignoring for the moment how he was the one who had made things more complicated.

"It's definitely Manson's phone," Dash said, his eyes narrowed.

Kwan lifted his eyebrows. "Then who was Fenton talking to this morning? He was looking like a lame-brained lovebird again, acting all shy and red-faced like he used to. He's not like that around Valerie, only Sam."

Fenton bit down harder on his lip.

Dash frowned down at the phone, his eyebrows nearly touching. Fenton could almost see the steam pouring from his ears. Abruptly, he swiped his thumb over the screen and ended the call.

Fenton swallowed back a squeaked protest.

"It was Sam earlier," Dash decided. "She borrowed Foley's phone in order to call him, like Fento-loser said."

Kwan frowned. He didn't look convinced, but he also didn't argue.

Dash tossed Sam's phone at Fenton. It smacked into his chest, and Fenton fumbled to catch it. "Mr. Lancer is waiting to punish you for stepping out of line, loser. So, get moving!" He shoved past Fenton and stomped away.

Kwan looked at Dash and then at Fenton—or rather, the phone Fenton clutched in both hands—before chasing after Dash. The secretary lifted two pass slips into the air without looking up, and Dash snatched them both before leaving the office with Kwan.

Once the door had closed behind them, Fenton woke up Sam's phone, entered her passcode, and sent a quick message to Phantom, assuring him he was fine and that he was going to speak to Mr. Lancer.

"Mr. Fenton," Mr. Lancer called impatiently from the office, as if Fenton were dragging things out on purpose.

Fenton made a face. He stuffed the phone securely into his pouch once he was done and trudged toward the principal's office, his shoulders slouched.

---

Wind whipped Phantom's hair back along his head as he sped across Amity Park. A few people on the ground saw him passing by overhead and lifted their arms to wave. He flew over a daycare, and the kids playing outside for morning recess jumped up and down in excitement as they pointed up at him. Phantom smiled. He thought about flying down, but his stomach twisted, and guilt made him hesitate.

Still speeding through the air, Phantom rolled onto his back. The wind whipped his hair over his face. Irritably, he pushed it back, held it in place with one hand and lifted his phone to check if Fenton had sent any messages with the other. He hadn't. Aside from complaining about Lancer giving him detention after school, Fenton had been busy attending second period class. That class had ended a few minutes ago. Phantom could probably reach him…

He wrote, "Any backlash yet?" and hit send.

He wouldn't hear or feel the phone go off from within one of his pouches, so Phantom clutched the phone in his hand. He pressed it to his chest and lifted his chin, staring up at the clouds above him. He was above the skyscrapers at the moment, but he could fly higher…

His phone vibrated. Phantom lifted the screen from his chest and peered at the text Fenton had sent.

"I don't think anyone believed me."

Phantom snorted and smiled. He couldn't tell from text alone if Fenton was offended or relieved. He suspected a mix of both. He could ask, but Fenton might deny he felt offended for fear of admitting, even in a small way, that he wanted others to believe him. Deciding to taunt him, Phantom instead texted, "Wow, and you were so sincere…maybe they need proof."

"Proof?"

In that message, at least, Phantom sensed the wariness behind Fenton's text.

He grinned. "Eyewitness testimony."

"No."

"He wrote that fast," Phantom said to himself, though with the wind howling past his ears, he didn't hear a word of it. He sent, "Just one kiss in front of Starr and no one will doubt you again."

"NO."

"Perhaps in front of your whole class. You're in chemistry now, right? I can be there in five minutes."

"If you come down here and try it, I swear I'll suck you into the Fenton Thermos."

"I think you are forgetting which of us has the Thermos."

"I'll take it from you."

"Oh? You will outmaneuver my ghost powers, will you?"

"Yes."

"I have doubts."

"Come down here and find out then."

Phantom tipped his head back and laughed. The change in drag altered his flight, throwing him into a shallow dive. He rolled onto his stomach again and corrected his trajectory. It freed his right hand from holding back his hair and allowed him to hold his phone with both. Amity Park passed far below his phone. Vertigo struck from watching so many cars, buildings, and trees speed past a fixed point, and after a moment's thought, Phantom halted his flight and flew straight up instead.

"That sounds like an invitation," Phantom texted, holding the phone above his head. "Are you really challenging me to fly down there and kiss you?"

"Uh…no? Wait. There was supposed to be a fight for the Thermos in there somewhere…" A moment later, Fenton sent, "Shit."

Phantom laughed again.

Fenton's next text message approximately read, "Forget I said anything!" but there were a great many typos for such a short message.

Phantom chuckled. "Forgotten. I'm nowhere near the school, anyway."

"Where are you then?"

"Hold on."

Phantom reached the apex of his climb, looked down, and smiled. He lifted his phone and snapped a picture, capturing the sight of the city far, far below him. He was as high as they had been with Valerie, and the world below him looked alien and small. A constant wind gusted over him now that he was no longer moving, sending him eastward, but aside from mentally noting its existence, he paid it no mind.

More important than the wind blowing him away from the city, more important than the dizzying height, Phantom gripped his phone, careful not to drop it. He sent the picture to Fenton and texted, "Check out the view!"

He grinned to himself, anticipating the look on Fenton's face he wouldn't get to see. He sighed and reclined in the sky, reveling in the wind tousling his hair. Barely a minute later, his phone chimed in his hand. And then again. Quickly, he lifted it to read Fenton's two replies.

"Oh!" and then "Are you going to dive?"

Phantom smiled. "Straight to the ground."

"Could you take a video of it?"

Phantom lifted an eyebrow. That was a curious request. "Do you miss flying, Fenton?"

"A little. Especially right now. Remember how we used to fly to relieve stress?"

"I remember." Phantom chewed on his lip. Should he offer…? The worst Fenton could do was say no, Phantom wouldn't lose anything by suggesting it. "I could take you for a flight. Perhaps after your lessons with Valerie? You need only ask; I can fly you wherever you want to go."

As he waited for Fenton's reply, Phantom sat up and crisscrossed his legs under him. He tried to push it down, but he felt hope and excitement rising within him. Flying Fenton away from all their troubles sounded wonderful to Phantom, not least because it would give him the chance to actually talk to…whatever Fenton was supposed to be to him. His crush. His other half. The one who would understand.

"Distance, remember?"

Phantom stared down at Fenton's reply, his shoulders drooping as he let his breath and the hope go. "I remember," he texted back. "Considering how this day has gone for us, however, we could use the reprieve."

"You can fly any time if you need to let go for a while."

Phantom sighed. He had. He had been flying endlessly. "Oddly, Fenton, flying by myself hasn't been enough." He wondered if he should add anything to that statement but decided against explaining himself. If Fenton had forgotten Phantom's failure earlier that morning, he wasn't about to remind him.

He was about to put the phone back in its pouch, safe during his dive, but stopped as Fenton texted back, "Oh, right. I'll think about it." And then, a second later, as if to assure himself and Phantom his only motive was a selfish one, he added, "I really do miss flying."

Slowly, Phantom's smile returned. Fenton hadn't agreed to fly with him, only to think about it, but just that small hint had made Fenton remember and reconsider. Fenton cared. In his own, cautious way.

"Thanks, Fenton."

---

Mikey's camera flashed. Danny jumped in place, fumbled his phone, and would have fallen out of his chair if Sam hadn't reached out and steadied him. Widened blue eyes looked up at Mikey, communicating Danny's surprise and—Mikey noticed—fear as his gaze lowered to Mikey's camera.

Mikey grinned. "Do you want to see?" Before Danny could respond, Mikey slid into the seat beside Danny and held out his camera so that they could both see the screen—and the photo Mikey had just taken of Danny's smile.

Danny's cheeks turned a brilliant pink.

"Mikey," Mr. Feluca called warningly, "I said get into teams of two, not socialize. Put the camera away, please."

"Yes, Mr. Feluca," Mikey replied dutifully.

Feluca's attention turned elsewhere as he surveyed the room, watching for any more trouble while kids discussed and argued over who would work with who. Mikey would have put his camera away, unwilling to disobey one of his favorite teachers, but Danny reached for the camera, drawing it closer as he squinted at the screen. A few kids threw glares at Mikey as he settled more comfortably at the Loser Table. Mikey grinned, straightening his back in the face of their envy. After all, Danny wasn't chasing him off or ignoring him. He was as good as accepted into their little group.

Sam and Tucker might have been a problem, but Tucker seemed too amused by the way the other kids approached their table, only to shuffle their feet and turn away when he shook his head. Sam's attention was turned to Danny which was in turn on Mikey's camera.

"Was I really smiling like that?" Danny asked, sounding stunned and more than a little apprehensive.

"Yup." Mikey tugged his camera back, unwilling to let Danny truly hold it, and Danny reluctantly let the camera and its incriminating picture go. Mikey looked down at his prize and grinned his triumph.

In the photo, Danny had his head braced in one hand. He stared down at a lit phone on the table, blue eyes that girls had been gushing about online looking soft. The smile was actually a small one, little more than a hint, but it transformed his expression into something tender.

The real kicker, in Mikey's opinion, was the light dusting of pink on Danny's cheeks. It had been subtle, but he was glad his camera managed to catch the blush.

"So." Mikey looked up at Danny, the other boy's face much redder now that he had been caught. "What made you smile like that? Or should I say who?" He waggled his eyebrows.

It must not have been as impressive as Mikey hoped because Sam snorted a half laugh.

Danny on the other hand looked as though he was about to slide off his stool and hide under the lab table.

"I heard about Phantom kissing you," Mikey continued. "And about you two working together before anyone even knew he existed. So, I'm wondering if he's the one you were texting just now."

Danny ducked his head and did his best to hide behind his short hair. "Um…I…"

"You know," Sam drawled, "he does have a girlfriend he won't see until lunch. He was probably just texting her."

Danny's head shot up. "Yes! I was texting…her. Valerie."

Sam rolled her eyes and on the seat beside her, Tucker tried to muffle a laugh behind his hand.

"Uh-huh…" Mikey crossed his arms and gave Danny a challenging look. "What did she say then? I haven't seen you smile like that in weeks."

"I have…too!" Danny looked at his friends for support, but they only returned his look with blank expressions. "Uh, I have, haven't I?"

Sam shrugged.

"You were a bit preoccupied with your reputation taking a hit," Tucker reminded him. "Hard to smile about someone who accidentally made you the laughingstock of the school, right?"

Danny shifted in his seat, looked down at the table, and whispered, "Ah. Well…"

"Maybe I should post the picture online," Mikey said, smirking. "Or better yet, I can send it to Valerie and see what she has to say about you smiling at her text."

Danny's head shot up. "No!" He made a wild grab for Mikey's camera, but Mikey expected it and held his camera out of reach, his other arm pressed against Danny's chest to hold him back. "You can't do that!" Danny rose to his feet, extending his reach, and Mikey squeaked a protest as Danny's weight forced him to lean to the side, almost losing his balance on the stool.

"Mr. Fenton, please," Mr. Feluca called out. "Sit down!"

Sam grabbed Danny's shirt and yanked him back into his seat. He grunted as he fell, but his eyes remained fixed on Mikey's camera. Mikey slowly straightened, protectively covering the camera with both hands. Danny's gaze shifted from the camera to Mikey's eyes. Mikey felt an apprehensive chill run down his spine as Danny's eyes narrowed.

Had his blue eyes always looked so fierce? Or was Mikey's mind still just caught on the sight of Danny throwing Dash to the ground?

"What do you want?" Danny demanded.

Mikey wondered if he had miscalculated. He was used to Danny being an even bigger loser than himself, but someone must not have given Danny that particular memo.

"Perhaps you should consider your actions are more villainous than you think. Sneaking around and taking photos of unaware people isn't what I would consider noble."

Mikey swallowed. He had always looked up to Phantom, believing their local superhero to be more like himself than someone like Dash. His words from yesterday hit harder than Phantom likely knew. Mikey couldn't get them out of his head. Phantom probably wouldn't approve of what Mikey was doing now either, but if Mikey didn't share what he found, it was fine, right?

"Uh, I," he stammered, "I was going to suggest a trade?"

Danny's glare lessened as he frowned. "A trade?"

"Yeah?" Mikey forced a shaky smile. "I just want to see what you've been texting about. You never text this much. And, like, you know everyone is curious about who you've been texting all day, right? Because no one has seen Valerie texting you back." Danny paled. Apparently, he didn't know. "If I share this picture on Paulina's website, everyone is going to assume it's proof that you've been texting Phantom this whole time because, like, it fits the narrative, you know? What with you blushing and smiling like that."

Danny opened his mouth but closed it again without saying anything.

"But! I'm willing to let you delete it." Mikey stretched his smile, allowing it to become more sincere—and more eager. "On the condition you let me in on your little secret."

Danny no longer glared. He stared at Mikey with large, rounded eyes.

"That's not a trade," Sam said, "that's blackmail. If you're going to be underhanded like that, at least have the guts to call it what it is."

Mikey flushed, but he didn't back down. "I just want to know," he pleaded to Danny. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

Sam shook her head. "Just let him post it, Danny. What's one more out of context photo going to do? Make the vultures squawk louder?"

"One more out of context photo isn't much," Mikey agreed, nodding. He smiled. "But a photo after Danny has admitted Phantom kissed him? One where he looks like a besotted schoolgirl while texting a mystery person? Posted right before lunch? You do the math."

Danny winced, his cheeks rapidly filling with color.

Tucker whistled. "He's got a point, Danny. Probably want to let things calm down a bit before people start doing more than just asking personal questions. That could be a problem later on."

"Like stalking," Sam said, distastefully. She glanced at Mikey's camera. "You already got paparazzi."

Mikey bristled. "I'm not selling it to tabloids!"

"But you are selling it, dude," Tucker pointed out. "It's just that you're selling it back to us for information."

Mikey's shoulders drooped. Phantom's words echoed in his mind again, but he held to his resolve. He wasn't hurting anyone. "Look," Mikey scooted his stool closer to Danny's and continued in a whisper, "I already know you guys are close to Phantom. I knew before you admitted anything to the popular kids. I followed you from the cafeteria and saw you guys hanging out with him in that classroom yesterday."

"Stal-ker," Sam sang quietly.

Mikey ignored her. "I just want to know…" He gestured with his hands, but Danny just looked confused. Mikey tried to put it into words. "I just want to, like, confirm it? That you're texting him and that he at least sees you as a friend? Maybe more than a friend. And what that might mean for a loser like me." Mikey smiled a self-depreciating smile. "If you can score someone as awesome as Phantom, there's gotta be hope for me too, right?"

The color in Danny's cheeks rose again. "I haven't scored anything!"

Mikey tilted his head. "Haven't you? If Phantom, an actual real-life superhero kissed you, I would say that was a pretty sweet score on its own, but I saw how he looked at you yesterday. If you haven't scored him as a boyfriend, I don't think it's for lack of trying on his part."

Danny rubbed a hand over his red face. "It's not like that…"

Tucker snickered. "Oh man, this is too good…"

"Well, what is it like?" Mikey persisted. "Just let me see what you were smiling about, please, Danny?"

Danny lowered his hand and glanced at Mikey's camera, conflicted.

"Danny," Sam said quietly, "before you say anything, think about it. Have you said anything in those texts you don't want the wider world to know about?"

Danny's brow furrowed in thought.

"Yeah," Tucker said, still laughing, "better make sure no one confessed their undying love for you!"

Sam groaned at the horrible pun. Tucker reached behind her and held out his hand to Danny for a high-five, still snickering, but Danny, infamous in their grade for his love of puns, didn't seem to notice either the pun or Tucker's hand. He only winced, blushed harder, and stared at his phone.

Mikey leaned behind Danny and high-fived Tucker's hand. "Undying!" he laughed. "Good one!"

Tucker's grin lessened a smidge.

"Does everyone have their partners?" Mr. Feluca called.

The students called out affirmatives. Sam looked quizzically at Danny. Danny hesitated a moment longer, glanced at Sam and Tucker, and then slid his stool closer to Mikey, opening a gap between himself and Sam. His friends shared uneasy looks behind him, but Danny was already turning to Mikey.

"Partners?" he asked.

Mikey nodded eagerly.

Danny breathed out an uneasy sigh. Mr. Feluca began passing out their worksheets while he explained the experiment—the pH balance of various liquids—but Mikey's attention was held by the phone Danny held out to him beneath the table.

Nearly giddy with excitement, Mikey took it from him.

"I'll listen to the instructions while you read," Danny suggested.

Mikey nodded eager acceptance, already looking down at the screen. A full page of texts met his eye, a conversation stretching back to first period, and Mikey had to swallow an excited "I knew it!" when he saw Phantom's image beside the incoming text messages. He glanced up and met Danny's eyes. In contrast to Mikey's excitement, Danny was biting his lip and looking at Mikey with pinched eyebrows, obviously worried about something.

Mikey looked back down at the phone and started reading from the top. He had to swallow another scream upon reading a text where Phantom confirmed he had a crush on Danny.

He likes Danny! Mikey screamed in his head, grinning down at the phone. I knew it! Phantom likes someone who is nerdy, weird, regularly shoved into lockers, and bullied by the popular kids! This is, this is awesome!

It seemed Danny was supposed to let others know, and for some reason, he was struggling because he was…confused?

Mikey made a small sound, his heart aching for them both. Phantom, because the hero clearly wanted someone who didn't want him back, and Danny because he was caught between Phantom and Valerie. Probably his own sexuality too, forced to consider for the first time if he liked guys or not because this was Phantom who was interested in him. Even Mikey would hesitate to say no, and he knew he only liked girls.

Mikey read over the text, "You should talk about it with someone, but perhaps I'm not the best option…" and whispered, "Do they know?" He looked pointedly at Sam and Tucker. They were whispering to each other, but it seemed to be about the experiment since they were looking at the worksheet.

Danny glanced at Mikey from the corner of his eye. There was only one thing Mikey could mean, so without having to ask, Danny gave a tiny shake of his head.

Impulsively, Mikey leaned closer and offered, "You can talk to me if you need someone to talk to."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "First you blackmail me," he whispered, "and now you want me to confide in you?"

Mikey's cheeks flushed.

"Hurry up. Finish reading so I can delete the picture."

Feeling chastised, Mikey returned to his snooping.

Apparently, Danny had gotten detention for throwing Dash onto the ground. Mikey lingered over that text, reading and rereading the short message. Danny was going to be held in detention with Mr. Lancer for an hour after school later that day. With the school nearly empty, that would be a perfect time for Phantom to visit Danny, a perfect time for Paulina's spy network to catch them at it. They just needed Mikey to pass along the information to his co-conspirators so someone could volunteer.

Mikey considered it for a moment longer before deliberately moving on, dismissing the information. The chastised, shameful feeling in his gut eased somewhat, and he smiled to himself. See? He was helping Danny after all.

Sometime after Danny notified Phantom about the detention, Phantom began to tease Danny about kissing him in front of others. Mikey held his breath and eagerly read over the texts, but it became clear Phantom and Danny were only bantering. Mikey still enjoyed reading it, delighted to see how deep their friendship went after two years.

Then he saw the picture Phantom had sent Danny, and Mikey gasped audibly.

Danny's head jerked around. "What?"

"Can you send this to me?" Mikey asked, staring in awe at the picture. He felt a little dizzy just staring at it, but he couldn't look away. Amity Park looked so small. How high was Phantom? He must have been close to the stratosphere. Mikey felt his heart quicken just thinking about being that high.

"No," Danny snapped. "Hurry up."

"He used to take you flying?" Mikey gasped. "To relieve stress? That is so awesome! Man, I would love to fly with him!"

"Can you just read and stop asking questions?"

"Why did you guys stop? Oh, because of all the rumors? Or, oh, oh, was it because you started dating Valerie?"

Danny groaned and dragged his hands over his face.

Sam leaned toward him. "What's wrong?" she whispered, glaring at Mikey.

"It's nothing," Danny whispered back, sounding exhausted. He lowered his hands and looked at Mikey. "I agreed to let you read what we were saying. You're basically eavesdropping. I don't owe you context."

Mikey pouted. "That's not fair…"

Danny crossed his arms and slumped in his seat, sulking. "What about any of this is fair?"

Sam's eyes narrowed even further as she glared harder at Mikey. Mikey chose not to press the issue even after Sam had looked away and returned to Tucker's side. He decided to believe the flights ended because Danny started dating Valerie and Phantom could no longer handle the one-sided affection in silence, rendering the flights awkward. The issue settled in Mikey's mind, he resumed reading. He was pleased Danny was considering giving Phantom another chance. Now that Danny knew about Phantom's feelings, there was no doubt in Mikey's mind that Phantom could—and would—completely sweep Danny off his feet. Nathan could even catch Valerie on the rebound. Win/win.

The conversation ended soon after.

Mikey frowned at Phantom's last text. He tried to scroll lower, but that was it. "Thank you, Fenton." That was…the end? "I don't understand," Mikey whispered.

"What?" Danny muttered.

"What made you smile like that?"

Danny glanced warily at him.

It couldn't be the prospect of a future flight—Danny's messages made it seem like he was reluctant. He might want to fly, but he apparently didn't want to fly with Phantom. Besides, it would be weird if he smiled like that over a concession he himself had made.

Phantom had only thanked him. It wasn't like he had started teasing Danny again. Why had Danny looked so…tender?

"Can I delete the picture now?" Danny asked.

"Why were you smiling?" Mikey persisted.

"I don't know," Danny said, sinking farther in his seat. "I didn't even know I was doing it. It just happens sometimes."

"Huh." Mikey tilted his head as he stared down at the text a while longer, memorizing the words and Phantom's image beside it. "That's weird."

"Yeah, well…" Danny's cheeks were turning rosy again. "Can I just see your camera now so I can delete the picture and forget this ever happened?"

Mikey offered hastily, "I can delete it for you."

"Like I'm going to trust you?"

Mikey pouted. "You know, you're being really uncool about all this. Like, what's the big deal? It's just a picture and a little eavesdropping. If this had happened to anyone else, like, like, Paulina, or, uh, Lester? They would be happy to let everyone see what's going on between them and Phantom. Do you not realize how awesome this is? How much he could boost your reputation? You should be milking this!"

Danny glared at him, his blue eyes frosty and cold. "You think I care? I'm not going to use him like that. Give me the damn camera, Mikey."

Mikey flinched. It wasn't fear that shot through him the way it did when Dash or one of the other bullies cornered him, it was…something deeper. Something like what Phantom had made him feel. Something that made Mikey's shoulders droop and his head lower. He passed his camera to Danny and mumbled, "Sorry" in an effort to appease the shame curdling his stomach.

Danny sighed as he took the camera. Mikey watched him flick through the pictures, making sure it was the only picture of Danny Mikey had taken. There was one or two more, nothing extreme, just one from the hallway when he was with Kwan and Starr and one where Danny was staring thoughtfully out a window in second period. Danny glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and Mikey shrank farther back.

But Danny held to his word. He deleted only the picture they had agreed to, the one where Danny was smiling at his phone, and handed the camera back to Mikey.

Relieved, Mikey snatched it back and made a little laugh. "I was afraid you would delete everything like Phantom had."

Danny, having begun to relax, stiffened all over again and jerked his head to look at Mikey. "What?"

"Yeah, I had a whole bunch on you two yesterday," Mikey explained. "He caught me outside the classroom and deleted everything except that cafeteria picture. You know, the one online now? Where he's looking at you like his heart was just ripped out?"

"Ghosts don't have hearts," Danny whispered, somewhat absently.

Mikey wrinkled his nose. He didn't want to think about how the son of ghost hunters might know the inner biology of a ghost. "You know what I mean."

Danny glanced at Mikey's camera, his eyebrows pinching over his eyes. "He…he could have deleted it?"

"Yeah. When he gave the camera back to me, the picture was on the screen."

"And then…" Danny swallowed, "you posted it online?"

"Well, yeah!" Mikey grinned and, feeling brave, nudged Danny's shoulder with his elbow. "He likes you! If you didn't know, you needed to see, and everyone else too. I figured, since he didn't delete that one, he meant for me to share it." Mikey shrugged. "He seemed really shaken after seeing it. He, like, ran away, basically. So, it had to be important."

Danny rubbed his hands over his face again. More vigorously than last time.

"Uh, hey, are you okay?"

"Fine," Danny grunted. He lowered his hands and sighed. "I don't know why the hell he didn't delete it, but he didn't want you to share it."

Mikey scoffed. "How do you know?"

"I just know, okay?"

Mikey stared at him and tried to lift one eyebrow. He wasn't as good at it as Danny, and he didn't think it was working, but hopefully he was still able to communicate a skeptical look. "Just because you guys have been talking and he has feelings for you, doesn't mean you know everything that's going on in his head, Danny."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Sure. But I know more than you."

Mikey grinned slyly then and slid Danny's phone across the table toward him. "Why don't you ask him?"

Danny took the phone but slid it onto his other side. "We have work to do."

"Ha, you just don't want to text him about it. What's the matter, Danny? Scared he'll admit he wanted you to see it? Personally?"

Danny glanced at him, his expression confused and wary, like he couldn't understand what Mikey was implying. "C'mon, Mikey. Just drop it and let's get to work."

"We can start working," Mikey agreed. He slid their worksheet over so he could read over it himself and smiled down at the paper. "But I won't drop it."

Danny groaned.

---

Phantom felt a curious sense of Déjà vu as he landed on the roof of the school. Below him on the picnic tables, students for the current lunch period were eating and chatting, enjoying their free time. It would be Fenton's turn for lunch soon, but not yet. He was in gym class and would be for the next thirty or so minutes.

Phantom knelt on his knees to hide himself from the students below. He shook his head. The location was the same, but everything else was different. Yesterday, he had known he couldn't visit Fenton, and that restriction had itched at his mind, tempting him to do something reckless. Like break into the locker rooms, reckless.

This time was different. This time, there was a possibility Fenton would need Phantom's help at lunch, given all the attention he was gaining. Phantom had a half-formed plan to cause a distraction that would lead the students away from Fenton, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

More to the point, he hoped Fenton would willingly avoid the cafeteria altogether and just eat lunch somewhere safe with him instead.

"Distance, Phantom," Phantom mocked, affecting a higher, more nervous voice. It could almost have sounded like Fenton. If not for the echo. He sighed. "He's not going to go for it…"

Still, he curled his arm on the bulwark and cushioned his head on his elbow. He stared at his phone, waiting. Wind gusted across his face, and he sighed again. He thought about reading through the website for lack of anything better to do, but the last time he had checked, the recent lunch period had led to more people becoming aware of Fenton's slip. More people meant more opinions. A fight had broken out between those who supported Phantom's feelings and those who refused to believe in them. There was only so much internet drama Phantom could stand, particularly when he was the focus and Fenton the scapegoat.

It would die down, he was sure of it. It just…might take a while.

---

Unlike the rigid structure of the classrooms that kept Danny safe from being crowded by his classmates, as soon as Tetslaff blew her whistle, a third of the gym class attached itself to Danny. They pestered him with questions and volleyed debates with each other, some growing heated as the class period continued on. Danny looked like he was trying his best to ignore them, his red face caught between embarrassment and irritation. He pretended to focus on counting his reps, putting as much attention as he could into the barbell squat, or so it looked to Tucker.

Tucker looked on with a bemused half-smile. Safe on the other side of the room, he kept one eye on Sam's progress with the bench press and one eye on Danny in case he actually called for help instead of just sending desperate, pleading glances Tucker's way. Tucker couldn't help him. It was leg day for gym class, but Sam couldn't perform the leg exercises with her sprained ankle and had been given permission to focus on strengthening her arms instead of sitting out of gym class, which meant she needed a spotter and someone to help her around the weight room.

To save himself and Sam from the volatile flock of humans trailing Danny's every step, Tucker had kindly volunteered.

Danny had not been impressed.

"Have you noticed something a little…off about them?" Sam asked.

"Danny's admirers?" Tucker replied, amused.

"No. Danny and…you know."

Tucker looked down at Sam. She had finished her set and was resting her arms on her stomach before beginning her last set for the day. "Yeah," Tucker said, lowering his voice. "But that could be because of the separation, right?"

Sam pursed her lips. She was also staring at Danny, but it wasn't the way she usually stared at him. Her expression no longer had the tragic pang of regret and longing that made Tucker ache for her. Given what they had found out yesterday from Danny's ghost half, Tucker would have expected her feelings for Danny to be more transparent than ever, but her eyes were too narrowed, too thoughtful as she searched Danny's face.

"I think they're hiding something," Sam said.

Tucker laughed. "They are. Or Danny is. Remember? About his…you know. Attraction to guys?"

"No, something to do with his ghost half," Sam persisted.

"Oh. Well." Tucker shrugged. "Everyone is jumping on Danny's case about loving himself, right? Exposing him as gay or bi or whatever. Phantom would have something to do with it, wouldn't he?"

Sam glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "'Phantom?' Now you're doing it too?"

Tucker defensively held up his hands. "Hey, I can't help it! Do you know how often I've heard that name today?"

Sam sighed and thumped the back of her head against the bench.

"I admit it's a little harder to see Danny as 'Fenton' than his ghost half as 'Phantom,' though," Tucker said, wrinkling his nose. "I'll stick to just calling them Danny and Phantom, but I'll drop the 'half' thing since it's upsetting Phantom so much."

Sam visibly winced and made a groaning sound. "See?"

"What?"

"That! When you called him 'Phantom,' didn't you feel that?"

"Uh…feel what?"

"It was like you were talking about someone else." Sam sat up on the bench and twisted to face him, placing her hands on the barbell as she straddled the bench. "If you had said 'it's upsetting Danny' instead of 'it's upsetting Phantom,' it would have sounded different! Names are important, Tucker!"

Tucker looked at her warily. "Is this a religious thing…?"

"Names define us," Sam persisted, skipping over the question—which Tucker took as a 'yes,' "they give us identity. If we start calling them Fenton and Phantom, that's just going to make it harder for them to merge again because it will be like they're—" she floundered for a moment, trying to find the words she needed, "not Danny. Or…something."

"But their names are still Danny," Tucker argued. "You know, like, Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton. We're just skipping the first part."

"But Phantom—fuck—Danny Phantom is using his last name to make an identity for himself completely separate from Danny Fenton! Haven't you noticed?"

Tucker frowned, titled his head, and tried to think back. Sam had spent more time with Phantom, she would probably understand what was going through his head better than Tucker, but the conversation last night about Phantom's memories… "You might have a point," Tucker said slowly. "But it's kind of moot, don't you think? I mean, they're going to merge back on Friday anyway."

"So they say, but they were already struggling with the last merge. What if the one on Friday is just as bad? What if they end up separating again because they're more comfortable as Fenton and Phantom than as Danny? What if they decide to just…stop trying to merge one day?"

"Ah…" Tucker made a face. "Alright. Point taken. But…"

"But?"

"Would that be so bad?" Tucker lifted his palms and shrugged. "I mean, Danny hated being…not human. And not ghost. If they're happier like this and Amity Park is still being protected, would it be so bad if they never merged?"

"Uh, yeah?"

Tucker raised an eyebrow.

Sam's shoulders curled defensively inward and she looked away. "Maybe."

"It would take some getting used to," Tucker allowed, "but they're not as bad as they were last time, back when they were the full-time fun dude and superhero." He laughed then, remembering the chaotic energy of those two. "They didn't go by different names back then, did they? Maybe you're onto something there."

"Tucker," Sam said softly, "it's not just about Danny giving up on being half ghost. If they don't merge back, what happens to our Danny?'

"Our Danny?"

"Yes," Sam emphasized, "our Danny. He's sarcastic and sullen, but he never would have picked a fight with Dash like that. He likes Valerie, but he never forgot how dangerous she is. He isn't a hopeless flirt. He isn't a smooth talker. He doesn't panic about being the center of attention—he likes it there! Where is he?"

"The Danny you have a crush on?" Tucker asked archly. "Is that what you mean? The reluctant hero with ghost powers?"

Sam's pale cheeks gained a slight rosy hue, but she didn't back down. "It's not about that," she said quietly.

Tucker looked over at Danny. He had finished his set, and several people were grabbing the barbell from his shoulders. Without exercise as a buffer between himself and the other students, the debates stalled, and their classmates began questioning Danny again. Tucker wasn't sure what those questions were, but he assumed, given that Danny wasn't flinching away from them, that it had more to do with Phantom's activities and personality than his supposed feelings for Danny.

Danny, looking harried, threw another accusing look Tucker's way. Tucker grinned and wiggled his fingers at Danny. Danny stuck his tongue out at him.

"I don't think we've lost him, Sam," Tucker said, turning back to his other friend. She continued watching Danny. "I mean, sure the human half is a little shy and likes to fight, and the ghost half is a little too prone to flirting, they're obviously different from the Danny we know best, but it's not like he's gone, gone. You know?"

Sam pursed her lips.

"And, once they merge—because they are going to merge, even if it doesn't stick forever—it will work in reverse, right? They'll be back to the Danny we know, but we'll still see Fenton and Phantom in him. Or we will, if we give these two versions of Danny a chance."

She sighed. Finally, she allowed her gaze to leave Danny. "I guess. I just wish…"

"Yeah?"

Sam groaned and bowed forward, resting her forehead on the bar. "What are they hiding? I have this bad feeling, Tuck, and I just can't shake it."

"The bi thing—"

"No," Sam interrupted. "It's not that."

Tucker chewed on his lip and glanced at Danny again. He was trying to back away from the group crowding him. He didn't notice the leg of the machine behind him and tripped. Several pairs of hands caught him. The group laughed, teasing Danny, and his cheeks began to redden again.

"He'll tell us when he's ready," Tucker assured Sam.

She breathed out a resigned sigh.

---

Fenton refused. He absolutely refused. He grabbed his clothes from his locker, retreated to a bathroom stall, and slammed the door shut on the boys following him.

"Oh, come on!" Nick laughed. "Are you really that shy, Fentina?"

Fenton gritted his teeth, but the words burst out anyway. "Fuck off!"

Nick laughed again. He seemed to enjoy riling Fenton as much as Phantom, but unlike Phantom, Nick's teasing made Fenton feel sick, like he was the butt end of a joke. He wasn't sure why. Phantom had assured Fenton early on that he couldn't—wouldn't—mock him, but Fenton didn't think that was it. It had something to do with how Nick seemed incredibly interested in finding out everything Fenton knew about Phantom.

Like, alarmingly interested.

Irritatingly interested.

Fenton just wanted him to go away.

"Hah, you know, he is always avoiding everyone else," one of the other boys joked.

"Now we know why!" Nick laughed.

Fenton scowled down at the clothes in his arms. There was no point explaining. They weren't interested in hearing about his insecurities or about the scars. They only wanted to know about Phantom. His likes, his dislikes, what he did all day, what his powers were, if he played video games, what his favorite sport was—

And on and on.

How was Fenton supposed to get Phantom out of his head when everybody kept making him think about Phantom?

"Dude, he has a girlfriend," another boy said. "Phantom's the one chasing him, not the other way around."

Fenton pinched his eyes shut and thumped his forehead against the stall wall.

"Oh please, as if Phantom would chase him."

"Yeah! If it happened at all, Fenton was probably the one who kissed Phantom! He's just trying to hide it from his girlfriend by blaming Phantom."

"Plus, Phantom isn't gay!"

"He could be, though!"

"Yeah, but for Fenton? Please."

The argument continued, but, thankfully, the ones arguing sounded like they were moving away, back into the locker room. Fenton kept his eyes closed; his teeth gritted. He couldn't help but listen until their words became indistinct.

"Hey, man," one of the remaining boys said, "you cool?"

"I'm—I'm…cool, yeah," Fenton said, forcing the word out. "I just need some space." They weren't all bad. There were a few that were just curious and weirdly excited. Weirdly fixated about hearing all about the kiss and about Phantom. Nick was the main asshole. He kept trying to put Fenton down. There were a few others, but at the moment, he was the worst.

Because he—they—don't wantPhantom to like me, Fenton thought, his jaw clenching.

"Yeah, c'mon, guys," the one who spoke before said, "let's go get dressed. We can talk to him on our way to lunch or something."

Fenton bit down on his lip and hunched his shoulders. The conversation continued as the other boys walked away too. Fenton sighed and lifted his head from the stall. He hooked his clothes onto the hook, and the phone in his hoodie clunked against the stall door.

Fenton stopped, hesitating as he stared at his hoodie.

A moment later, he pulled Sam's phone from the pouch and unlocked it. Three texts were waiting for him, all from Phantom. Fenton brushed a hand through his hair. He caught his lips trying to smile—again—and forced them into a frown instead.

One message read, "I bet you five bucks your classmates in gym class are going to swarm you like locusts."

The next, "One of these days, we should barge into a gym class as me. Imagine the mayhem!"

And the last and most recent, "What is the plan for lunch? Like I said, I can let you into a locked classroom so you can get away from the other students."

Fenton blew out a breath. His lips itched to smile again, but he fought it back. "First of all, you don't HAVE five dollars," he texted. "Second, did you come up with that plan because you were thinking about barging into MY gym class? Third, I don't think that will work this time. I need to eat, and they might send people out to look for me."

He tucked the phone into his pouch and started to pull off the Casper High gym uniform. With nowhere safe to place his clothes, he hooked his shirt and shorts over the rim of the stall door. He had just pulled on his jeans when the phone vibrated against the door, muffled through the fabric of his hoodie. Fenton finished zipping his pants and checked the phone.

"I have exactly five dollars, I was THIS close, and could Tucker not bring your lunch?"

Fenton replied, "Someone would follow him." Before he could put the phone away, Phantom sent, ":(" and Fenton lost the battle against his smile. He rolled his eyes to make up for it. "Distance," he reminded Phantom.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, but what about?"

Fenton put the phone away and pulled on his favorite t-shirt. The phone vibrated again as he tugged on the hem.

"Our dating Valerie, how the separation is affecting us, my healing powers, the crash this morning. Take your pick."

Fenton frowned at the phone in his hands. "Can't we discuss those things over the phone?"

"You only have time during lunch."

"After school?"

"You will have your lessons with Valerie, and I would like to speak to you before then. It's important."

Fenton blew out a breath and braced his back against a wall of the stall. "Fine. I'll let Sam and Tucker know."

"If you are okay discussing these things in front of them…"

Fenton groaned, tipping his head back. He wasn't. But he also wasn't sure hanging out with Phantom was a good idea when it was just the two of them. What if…things happened? Fenton had learned firsthand during their time practicing how smoothly Phantom could seduce him into a kiss, and that was before Phantom had developed feelings for him. Wouldn't Phantom's crush make him want to kiss Fenton more?

But he hasn't, Fenton thought, chewing on his lip. Aside from Sunday morning. He hasn't tried to force or trick me into anything since practice. He has even kept his distance for the most part because I asked him to. The only way things would get out of hand is if I letthem and that's—I wouldn't—

Fenton shook his head. We haveto keep the distance. Things are going to get muddled; he's going to confuse me if we get close again, and I can'tlose myself to him. If I give up, we'll never merge again, and Phantom and I—we might—

Kiss, touch, hug, date, forget they were ever one person…

Fenton groaned again and thumped the back of his head against the stall.

"Danny?" Tucker's voice called. "You okay?"

Fenton stood up hurriedly from the stall. "What? Yeah, I'm fucking fantastic. Are they gone yet?"

"Who?"

"The locker room, is it empty yet?"

"Uh, hold on." Tucker retreated from the bathroom stalls, and Fenton danced anxiously on his socked feet as he waited for him to come back. He glanced down at Sam's phone, but he wasn't sure what to tell Phantom yet. Tucker returned before he made up his mind. "Not yet," he said. "Some of your newly acquired fans are gossiping at their lockers. You might have to wait for the bell."

Fenton made a face. "They're not my fans, they just want throw me under a bright lamp and interrogate me about Phantom. They don't want me, they want Phantom."

"Well," Tucker said archly, "yeah, my point exactly. His fans are your fans too, even if these ones are committed to the idea that you two are dating." He laughed.

"Not dating! No one said anything about secretly dating yet, don't—if someone heard you—Tucker!" Fenton groaned loudly, and Tucker laughed harder. "Hey! I'm kind of miserable here, you know."

"You should laugh at it too," Tucker suggested, still sounding amused. "But sure, man. Do you need anything or are you just going to chill in there until the coast is clear?"

"Chill in here until the coast is clear."

"Ha! Well. Do you mind if I wait outside with Sam?"

Fenton sighed. There wasn't any point in making Tucker stand lookout, was there? "No, go ahead."

"Alright, see you outside then. And, hey, don't let their ideas stress you too much."

"I'll try," Fenton muttered, but Tucker was already walking away.

Alone once more—and confined within a small stall until he dared brave "his fans" on his way to lunch—Fenton resorted to texting Phantom, "I guess not. But I don't know how you expect me to get away from them AND the others."

"If you wait until you're alone in the locker room, I can fly you out of there. No one would know where you went."

Fenton was alone, or almost, but he wasn't going to tell Phantom that just yet. "Tucker can't bring me lunch if he doesn't know where I am. I need to eat. I'm starving."

Phantom didn't seem to have an immediate answer for that.

The bell rang, and Fenton sighed. He bent down and pulled on his shoes, bracing his weight against the wall so he wouldn't have to sit on the toilet. Slowly, giving the others as much time to clear out of the locker room as possible, he pulled his red hoodie off the hook and carried it, his gym clothes, and Sam's phone out of the bathroom stall. He peered around the corners but didn't see anyone. Cautiously, he crept toward his locker. He tucked his clothes into the arm holding his phone and worked the combination, spinning the built-in lock. The phone vibrated in his hand, but he waited until he popped open his locker to look down at it.

"Once the line has thinned and the lunch ladies are cleaning up, I can visit the cafeteria invisibly and build you a tray. I can spread my invisibility, so the only thing anyone will see is food disappearing. The others in the cafeteria will likely be too busy gossiping to notice."

That…was a good plan. Fenton almost agreed to it without thinking, but stopped, the realization hitting him that if he agreed, he would see Phantom again. For the first time since Monday, they would be alone. They would…talk.

His cheeks began to warm as he stared down at the phone.

"Now!" Dash's voice shouted.

Fenton jerked his head up. Footsteps ran toward him, and he quickly spun around. Nearly six foot tall football players, Kwan and Dash, charged him from where they had hidden inside the shower room, boring down on him before Fenton could do more than drop his jaw. Dash, with the advantage of much practice, grabbed Fenton's shirt. Kwan snatched Sam's phone from Fenton's grasp and Dash, his grin mocking and devious, shoved Fenton backward into his own locker.

"Hey!" Fenton tried to wiggle his way out, only for Dash to slam the door in his face. Darkness enclosed him, broken only by the thin slits near the top of the locker. "Hey!"

"It worked!" Kwan cheered.

"Of course it worked," Dash said, a smug smirk evident in his voice. "Now give me that before it goes to sleep and we have to get the password."

Fenton shifted his weight and wiggled his hips and shoulders, trying to find a comfortable position in the locker. Fortunately, his was one of the tall lockers, but tall or not, Fenton was getting too big to fit. His shoulders were too broad, he had to stand at an angle. He leaned against the door of his locker and peered out through the slits near the top. Between the metal holes, he could see Dash navigating around Sam's phone.

"What are you doing?" Fenton demanded.

"I'm going to prove once and for all you're not talking to Phantom," Dash bragged. "And then Kwan will finally shut up about Phantom having a crush on you. And he'll have to marathon the romance channel with me."

Kwan groaned.

Fenton slammed his palms against the locked door. "Are you serious right now, let me out of here! How are you going to—"

The ringing notes of a phone calling another purred through the speakers of Sam's phone. Fenton swore. Dash must have called the contact number he had seen the last time he held Sam's phone. The call was on speaker phone. Not for Fenton's benefit, but because Kwan was bouncing on his toes and making excited little noises. Kwan hadn't heard Phantom's voice last time. That was probably the whole reason why they were doing this, because Kwan needed to judge for himself whether it was Phantom or not.

But phones distorted voices. Phantom wouldn't sound like himself, especially because of his echo, which was probably why Dash hadn't recognized his voice. If Phantom didn't give anything away…

The call connected and Phantom said in a slightly excited voice, "Fenton? Did you change your mind?"

"Hang up!" Fenton shouted as loud as he dared. "Dash fucking stole my phone, don't say—"

"Shut it, loser!" Dash kicked the locker, jarring Fenton's hands as the metal vibrated. He winced and pulled away from the door. "I'm the one explaining things!"

"He called him 'Fenton,'" Kwan said eagerly. "Oh my gosh, is it because their first names are the same? That's so cute!"

"We call him Fenton too, stupid, what's the matter with you?"

"Hello again, Dash," Phantom said as smooth as butter, not a hint of surprise in his voice. There was even a hint of amusement in his tone. Fenton bit his lip. "You seem to be making a career out of phone theft."

Dash made a disgusted noise. "Can it, loser two-point-O. You and I have a problem to settle."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, your buddy Fenton here set your contact image to the awesomest superhero ever—"

"Batman?" Phantom guessed, his voice teasingly light.

"Bat—No, you idiot! Phantom! Danny Phantom!"

"I'm flattered."

He was definitely laughing. Fenton sighed and rolled his eyes. Apparently, Fenton wasn't the only one Phantom enjoyed teasing. He would also take shots at Dash.

Fenton, however, had never punched a locker because of Phantom's teasing.

Fenton yelped as the loud crash echoed within the metal lockers. He felt around the door, trying to see if Dash had fucking dented it.

"Did you hear that?" Dash barked.

"I heard," Phantom said, his voice no longer amused. "Let him out."

"How the heck does he know I'm in the lockers," Fenton muttered to himself, but the answer came easily enough once he stopped to think. Phantom used to be right there with Fenton. He knew Dash's routine because Fenton knew the routine.

"Come over here and let him out yourself," Dash said, regaining a touch of his smugness. "It shouldn't be any problem for you if you're really Danny Phantom, right? We're in the boy's locker room. Don't keep us waiting."

He ended the call before Phantom could respond.

"Dude," Kwan said nervously, "if that was really Danny Phantom you were just talking to—"

Dash made a disgusted noise. "It wasn't."

"But if it was—"

"It wasn't!"

Fenton shifted in his cramped space. "Hey! So, you know what, Dash is right. It wasn't Phantom. Can you let me out now?"

"Shut up, Fenton," Dash snapped. "This isn't even about you anymore!"

Fenton shrank back in his locker. "Yeah," he muttered, "that tracks."

"Unless that was Phantom," Kwan insisted, "and then it's really, really going to matter that you just locked his crush in a locker and yelled at him on the phone! Twice!"

Fenton huffed. "Dash has been throwing me into lockers for years now, it's not like this is anything new."

"Well." Through the grate, Fenton saw Kwan cross his arms. "Maybe that's why Phantom never tried to make friends with us. Maybe he was upset on Danny's behalf all along." A half second later, he added in an undertone, "Wait, that's going to get confusing if they're both called Danny…"

Honestly, it wasn't even that far off the mark. Their treatment of Danny Fenton was indeed part of the reason why Danny Phantom never tried to work with them—that and the secret identity thing. There just hadn't been any feelings between Fenton and Phantom involved at the time.

Now though?

Phantom wasn't really going to fly into the locker room to "save" Fenton from a little locker time out, was he? He could just wait for Dash and Kwan to get bored and go to lunch. Or he could alert Sam and Tucker. There were so many ways Phantom could get Fenton out of this mess without revealing to Kwan and Dash that he and Fenton were on active speaking terms. He didn't need to show how willingly he would show up if Fenton were in trouble—

Kwan suddenly gasped and Dash dropped Sam's phone.

Fenton groaned, "Shit," and lightly banged his forehead against the door of his locker.

---

Sam continued to push Tucker toward the locker room despite his desperate, half-hearted attempts to set his feet against it. If he fought back too hard, she might get hurt, but he didn't want to play hero.

"Why me?" he whined quietly.

"Because I can't go in there!" Sam accented her words with a final, stronger push.

Tucker tripped forward, stumbled over the line into the locker room, and turned to face her. "You can too! It's got to be empty by now, and there's no teachers around anyway! You can't expect me to take on Dash and Kwan all by myself, Sam, please."

"And if Danny decided to take a shower after all?" Sam asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Then he wouldn't be trapped in his locker!"

Kwan's and Dash's voices, once more amplified by the echoes the locker room created, said in perfect, shocked unison, "DannyPhantom?"

Sam swore. She hobbled past Tucker into the boy's locker room.

"Oh sure!" Tucker hissed, running after her. "Now you can go in?"

Not completely abandoning all sense, Sam stopped at the wall dividing the locker room from the hallway and peered around the corner. Tucker crouched below her and did the same. Phantom floated in the air above Dash and Kwan, his arms crossed as he frowned down at them like a disappointed parent. Dash fell to his knees and Kwan's expression remained frozen in a rictus of surprise and delight.

Danny was nowhere to be seen, but Tucker heard him bang against the inside of a locker and shout, "Why would you come here—they would have—you could have just—Phantom!"

Phantom snorted. His stern expression gentled and his lips twitched as his eyes glided off Dash and moved toward the lockers. "Perhaps I should just leave then."

"You shouldn't have come at all!"

"Alright," Phantom said, his grin spreading. "See you later, Fenton."

"No!" Danny banged on the locker again. "Wait! Let me out!"

"I thought you said I shouldn't have bothered?"

"It's too late, damn it, they already saw you!"

"Well, you see," Phantom's grin took on a mischievous edge, "maybe I don't want to let you out anymore. Since you are being so rude. You haven't even said hello. I'm hurt."

Kwan knelt beside Dash and grabbed his arm so he could shake it. Tucker couldn't hear what he was saying, but whatever had him so excited about Phantom teasing Danny, Dash didn't react to it. He continued to gape up at Phantom. Tucker wished he dared snap a picture. The image of Dash gawking like a fish would be priceless to the lower masses.

"Hello, Phantom," Danny said in a dull, emotionless voice.

"Hello, Fenton," Phantom replied, his voice overly cheery in contrast. "It would be nice to see you again. Should I let you out?"

"Oh," Danny said, his dull voice turning dry, "by all means, please."

Phantom looked at Dash again, his expression hardening once more. "Move."

Dash and Kwan scrambled to their feet and hastily backed away. Kwan still held Dash's arm. Dash finally managed to close his mouth, but his eyes remained wide open. He was starting to look a little sick.

"Hey, man," Kwan said, his lips forming a shaky smile, "sorry about the—"

"Save it." Phantom landed in front of Danny's locker, where Dash and Kwan had been standing a moment ago. "This is hardly the first time he has needed my help because of you two."

Dash made a wheezing sort of whimper. Whatever emotion had him locked in a paralysis suddenly broke, and Dash—bolted. Tucker squeaked and flattened himself as close to the wall as possible. Sam did the same. Dash ran past them without slowing or seeming to care that they were there.

"Dash!" Kwan called. He hesitated a moment, torn as he looked between Phantom and the locker room entrance. He chased after his friend. "Dash, wait!" He ran past Sam and Tucker, and Tucker heard one last, "Dash!" as Kwan reached the gym floor.

"Heh, you know," Tucker whispered, "I could almost feel bad for him."

Sam gave him a skeptical look.

"What?" Tucker shrugged his shoulders and lifted his palms defensively. "I said almost." He started to stand, but Sam placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"Shh, wait," she whispered.

"You want to spy on them?" Tucker hissed.

"I want to find out what they're hiding, now shush!"

Phantom placed his hand on Danny's locker, and intangibility spread over the door, turning it transparent, allowing them to see Danny's scrunched form inside. Danny began to wiggle his way out, wincing.

"Do you need help?" Phantom asked. He stuck his hand through the translucent door, offering it to Danny.

"No," Danny grunted, "I got this."

Phantom pulled his hand back. A moment later, Danny gasped as he popped free of his locker. And promptly tripped forward. Phantom caught a flailing wrist before Danny fell to the floor, and Danny floated, rotated, until he was standing upright. Phantom lowered him onto the floor, and Danny's feet landed safely beneath him.

"Thanks," Danny mumbled.

"There is no shame in asking for help, you know," Phantom said. He released Danny's wrist and lifted his hand from the locker.

Danny shook his head. He turned around and began spinning the combination of his locker. Phantom lifted into the air and floated around to his other side, his legs fusing into a spectral tail.

"Your help just proved how close we are to two of the most popular guys in the school," Danny complained. "That's not helpful, that's, that's, that's just making things worse. What were you thinking?"

"That this was going to keep happening unless I did something." Danny glared at Phantom, but the ghost half met it with a frown of his own. "Dash was taking the rumors as a personal attack for some reason, and unless I did something to make him back off, he was going to keep trying to prove everyone wrong by hurting you."

"So?" Danny popped open his locker.

"So?" Phantom demanded, incredulous.

"It's nothing I'm not used to. And I was handling things well enough on my own!"

"Until Dash stuffed you into a locker," Phantom pointed out dryly.

"They would have gotten tired eventually and then Tucker could have gotten me out." Danny bent down and grabbed his red hoodie from the bottom of his locker, Sam's phone off the ground. Phantom watched, frowning unhappily. "I didn't need saving."

"Perhaps not," Phantom said quietly, "but I wanted to help anyway."

Danny's eyes jumped to Phantom's face and away again. His hands scrunched the bottom half of the hoodie, rolling it so it would be easier to pull on.

"Accepting help isn't a bad thing either," Phantom continued. "I do know you're not helpless. I won't think less of you."

"What?" Danny said bitterly. He pulled the hoodie on over his head and began pushing his arms through the sleeves. "Even though I don't have ghost powers? Even though I can't pass through walls or walk invisibly through a crowd or—or—" He sighed as he tugged on the hoodie, settling it into place. "Fly…"

"Ah-hah!" Sam whispered. "I knew he liked his powers."

Tucker shushed her.

A spark suddenly lit up Phantom's eyes, excitement tugging his lips into a smile. "That's it!"

Danny looked up at him. "What is?"

"Flying." Phantom summoned his legs again and landed on the floor beside Danny. "I can fly you away from here!"

Sam sucked in a breath, her fingers squeezing Tucker's shoulder.

Danny flinched back a step. His cheeks began to color. "What?"

"What?" Tucker echoed him. "Sam, what's wrong?"

Phantom reached for Danny's bicep. His fingers stopped short of their target to curl around his sleeve instead. "Just for lunch," Phantom amended. "So you don't have to eat with anyone who will grill you for answers, so no one who comes looking for you will find you."

Weakly, Danny said, "I need to eat…"

"I have five dollars. I can buy you lunch at the Nasty Burger."

Danny hesitated.

"Sam," Tucker repeated, "what is it?"

"The lover," she whispered urgently, as if that were supposed to make any sense at all.

"What?"

"Why does the lover look so excited about taking himself flying?" Sam explained in a quiet, clipped tone.

"Uh, because he likes to fly?"

Sam groaned. "I swear you're as bad as Danny…"

Tucker squinted his eyes and peered more intently at Phantom's face. The ghost's green eyes were bright and wide open, his lips stretched into a wide grin, white teeth on full display, but Tucker wasn't sure what it was he was supposed to see there. He had seen Danny excited before. Less so his ghost half, the lover personality Phantom was supposed to embody after their latest separation, but Tucker had only seen him fight ghosts so far, something he only did as a duty. Of course he wouldn't look excited about fighting ghosts. He would look excited about…lovey dovey things. Romantic things. Valerie, most likely.

"Yeah, I don't get it," Tucker admitted.

Sam sighed.

Tucker looked at Danny instead. The silence was stretching on as Danny appeared to be thinking—probably about an ongoing conversation between him and his other half that had started long before Tucker and Sam started eavesdropping. Danny hadn't pulled away from Phantom as Tucker had half expected, and he hadn't looked away. He stared into Phantom's eyes. Under his gaze, Phantom tried without much success to calm his excitement.

Abruptly, the wariness in Danny's expression shifted. He looked up at the ceiling. Longing softened his eyes. His lips parted, and a soft breath breezed past them.

"I do miss flying…" he said softly.

Phantom stared at him. He stared at him and stared and—

Tucker's hand shot up and grabbed Sam's fingers.

"Finally," she whispered.

Phantom's eyes were softening. Like a reflection in a mirror, Phantom's expression echoed Danny's, but Phantom wasn't staring longingly at the sky; he was staring longingly at Danny. His lips parted, and a soft breath breezed past them. A gentle little sigh.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Tucker whispered.

"No," Sam drawled sarcastically," of course not."

"Let me rephrase that," Tucker amended. "Can you believe what we're seeing?"

Sam didn't answer.

Phantom tugged on the sleeve of Danny's hoodie. "Is that a yes?" he asked. The hope in his voice was painfully, achingly strong, mixed as it was with the longing in his gaze.

Tucker's chest ached.

Danny lowered his face and met Phantom's eyes. The eager, helpless love in Phantom's eyes that was so obvious to Tucker in that moment missed its mark. As clueless as he had ever been, Danny saw only the surface of Phantom's feelings, the excitement and eagerness. He matched it with his own, a grin spreading across his human face.

"Yes," he blurted, the word bursting out of him. He laughed. "Yes. Fuck it, let's go!"

A second, much wider grin split Phantom's face. For a moment, Tucker half expected him to whoop the way their united self had once before over a yes, but Phantom contained his happiness to one quiet, breathless, "Yes!"

He released Danny's sleeve and slid his hand down until his fingers could wrap around Danny's, holding his hand. He floated upward and tugged Danny into the air after him. He floated above Danny but stared down at him, his expression eager, excited.

Tucker squeezed Sam's fingers.

Danny looked unnerved for a moment, perhaps sensing the feelings behind Phantom's grin. His shirt floated above his stomach, lifted by the lack of gravity. Phantom reached out his other hand to him. Danny hesitated, staring at the hand. His gaze moved to the hand already holding his, and Tucker wondered if Danny was thinking along the same lines as him. That Phantom didn't need to hold his hand. That they—united—usually carried someone in a flight.

Danny grabbed Phantom's other hand regardless. His face was turning red—he must sense something, right? He rose higher until he and Phantom were nearly level, their arms bending to accommodate how close they were. Closer than they had been on the ground. Closer than Tucker felt necessary, given that their elbows were nearly touching.

"Ready?" Phantom asked.

Danny nodded. "Go!"

Faster than Tucker would have expected, they shot through the ceiling and were gone.

Sam suddenly collapsed onto Tucker's back. He gasped a little—he was always surprised by how deceptively heavy his friend was. Sam wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tucked her face against his neck. Tucker placed a hand on her forearm and brushed it back and forth, trying to soothe whatever emotion had brought on this rare display from her. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen her hug someone. Only two of those had involved him, and that had been when Danny had his accident and when he started dating Valerie.

"Hey," he whispered, "Sam, it's okay. This isn't going to change anything."

"How is it not going to change anything?" Sam demanded. Her voice wasn't thick; she wasn't crying. She didn't sound like she was trying not to cry, at least. Tucker let out a relieved breath. "What do you think is going to happen when they merge? It's going to break his fucking heart."

"Ah, oh," Tucker said, helpless. "I…yeah…that…" He had to bend his mind, trying to follow her trail of thought. Was she worried it would break full-Danny's heart? Or Phantom's heart?

Would it matter in the end? Someone's heart was going to be broken at the end of this.

Tucker's chest ached again. "Shit…"

Sam made a rough noise. "I don't even know which is worse. Phantom falling in love with Fenton, or Danny dating Valerie the huntress. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why does he keep endangering himself like this?"

Tucker hummed thoughtfully. "Probably a side-effect of being a hero."

Sam muttered, "That's stupid. He's stupid."

Tucker couldn't argue there.

---

FINALLY

I'VE BEEN PLANNING THIS SCENE FOR YEARS for years, oh my god...

I think I've been planning the following scene even longer, but I'm not confident about writing it. It's meant to parallel Valerie's flight with Danny, there's pressure there, annnnnd also after the flight BECAUSE THE BOYS ARE FINALLY GOING TO TALK! BRING OUT THE CONFETTI!

But back to this chapter...I'm hoping I got all the characters on point, but I'm not certain. Dash ran away because he idolizes Phantom and he just came face to face with Phantom's unmasked irritation after yelling at him on the phone. His preconceptions have just been shattered. Mikey of course is a fanboy who looks up to Phantom as a hero and wants to see himself as an unrealized potential hero too, and he's blind to his own faults, making excuses for himself instead of apologizing and owning up the way Danny does in the show. Tucker just wants his friends to be happy, dang it, and Sam is a little tricky. She has a lot going on. And NO it's not just her crush on Danny that's causing it. I mean, it's a source, but I won't limit her like that. Screw Phantom Planet, she's got more depth than that.

And Fenton is...he's taking a chance. It's a spur of the moment thing. He's been pressured and pushed to the edge. Phantom is offered him a way out just for a few minutes, and Fenton is trusting him. I hope I can make that more clear in the follow-up chapter, it was a little tricky through Tucker lol.

Alright, I gotta run to work. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Hopefully I can get the next one out just as fast! xD Thank you sooo much for sticking with me and leaving your comments! Thank you!