Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the creation of Butch Hartman,  
Ghostbusters are owned by Columbia Tristar. No money is being made  
from this and no such intent should be inferred.

"I know that voice," Skulker said. "Yes, that voice. Ghost-Child! So
you are here as well. Come, come and face me so that I may take your  
head at last."

"You know this guy?" Oscar asked. "Why does he call you Ghost-Child?"

"He haunted Amity Park," Danny said and then lied. "My folks are ghost
hunters, remember?" Of course, the real question was how Skulker got  
back to Earth. Danny distinctly remembered booting the hunter through  
the Ghost Portal, along with Plasmius' head (which he WASN'T going to  
think about), and then blowing up said portal.

"Oh yeah."

Danny thought hard for a minute and then began patting his pockets.
"Gimme a notepad and a pen." Oscar handed them over and Danny  
scribbled Tucker's phone number. "You have a wireless PDA, right?"

"Sure. Well, Egon does. Three of them, actually."

"Call this number and ask for Tucker Foley. Tell him you need the  
Skulker
program and have him send it to the PDA's email. Download, and then  
come back here and run it. If Tuck starts giving you 'How do I know  
you're a friend of Danny's' stuff, just tell him 'Roaslie  
Middlethorn' and it
should convince him."

"Psycho ex, huh?"

Danny grinned at him wryly. "Put simply, it started two nights before  
the junior prom and ended with me and Tucker getting deported from  
Canada six months later. Our parents were pissed."

Oscar laughed. "When we're done with this, you and I are going to sit  
down with two of dad's beers and you're going to tell me the whole  
story."

"Deal," Danny said.

"Ghost-Child!" Skulker roared and they heard the sound of the proton  
beam firing and wood cracking. "Face me, curse you!" They could hear  
Kylie swearing and then the sound of a steel hand hitting flesh.  
"Silence, wench," Skulker sneered and Eduardo let out a howl of rage  
and leapt over the crates, screaming incoherently.

"Shit!" Oscar yelped and made a grab for Eduardo's foot, but missed.

 From the other side of the crates, they heard the sound of a proton  
beam firing, Skulker's roar of triumph and the sound of a human body  
hitting solid wood.

"Ghost-Child!" Skulker roared. "How long do you intend to hide from  
me? Come and face me, curse you, come and face me!" Danny peered  
through the gap in the crates. Skulker's armor was bleeding edge, but  
it was still ecto, so the beams should have affected him. Since they  
weren't, he had to either be using non-ecto armor, in which case,  
there should be signs of damage. But there weren't, so that meant  
that something else was protecting him. But what? Then he saw it, the  
flickering green of a Ghost Shield and he swore softly.

"What is it?" Oscar asked.

"See that flicker of green? It's my parent's Ghost Shield. He has one  
of the generators for it."

"Electromagnetic field tuned to spectral frequency, right?"

"I . . . guess?"

Oscar smacked a fist into his palm. "If that's true, then it must be  
tuned to the frequencies of our proton beams . . . but how did he get  
that? Even I don't know the frequencies. Egon and Ray are the only  
ones who know what those are."

Danny stared at him. "Oscar, this is a trap. Skulker wouldn't have  
gotten the shield on his own, he couldn't have. Someone got it for  
him and they wanted you guys out of the way."

"Ghost Child!" Skulker roared. "Coward! Come and face me or I kill  
the girl and the fool! You have one minute."

Danny closed his eyes. "But not me, Skulker didn't even know I was  
here. I can't escape it and I have no choice." Danny unbuckled the  
straps of his pack and set it down.

"Danny? Dude, what are you doing?"

"I don't need it," Danny said and began to climb up to the top of the  
wall of crates. "I never did."

"Man, you're acting weird." Oscar began to climb after Danny. "What  
are you talking about?"

"You would have probably found out eventually, I should have said  
something long ago, but it was my secret. Mine to keep. I don't want  
to be treated like a freak."

They reached the top of the crate wall and looked down into a loose  
circle that was perhaps forty feet wide. Skulker stood in the middle  
and Kylie lay at his feet, one hand pressed to her head.

Oscar looked at Danny. "Dude, I know everyone has their secrets, but  
this is no time to be Mister Mystery. Whatever it is, I'm still your  
friend, and I have your back."

Danny took a deep breath. "There was an accident in my parent's lab.  
I was messing with something I shouldn't have. I . . . changed."

"Changed? Do I want to know into what?"

"Into this." Danny reached inside himself and pulled. He was vaguely  
aware of Oscar leaping backwards as the rings formed and stripped him  
of his humanity, leaving behind the cold and wonderful chill as ecto  
energy boiled up within him, empowering him, and making him  
different. He'd forgotten what it felt like. Not only to not be  
human, but how good it felt as well.

Oscar's PKE meter shrieked as it detected Danny's PKE reading going  
through the roof, far beyond it's capacity to measure. Then with a  
sharp crack, it died, overloaded by the vast influx of ecto energy.

"Holy Mary Mother of God," Oscar breathed. "Danny Fenton, what the  
hell did you do to yourself?" If he hadn't seen the change, he would  
have never known he was looking at his friend. Danny now wore a black  
and white coverall, his hair was snow white and his eyes glowed  
green. There was something different about him as well. The way he  
stood, the air about him. It was almost frightening.

"Not Danny Fenton," said the ghost boy, "I'm Danny Phantom."

"Okay . . . what's the plan?"

"Get that program from Tucker, I'll deal with Skulker."

"Are you insane? He'll kill you."

"He hasn't yet."

"But that Ghost shield of his. Won't that keep you out as well?"

"Get the program," Danny repeated and leapt to the ground and strode  
across the arena.

"Oscar, what the hell is going on in there?" Winston's voice came  
over the radio. The PKE meters just jumped."

"All hell, I think," Oscar replied. "Put Egon on."

"Egon here."

"Egon, get on the phone and call this number." Oscar rattled off the  
number he'd been given. "Ask for Tucker Foley and tell him you need  
the Skulker program. Have him send it to one of the PDA emails and  
then get in here and run it."

"Oscar, what is going on?"

"No time for explaining. Danny's in deep shit."

Oscar pulled out his blaster and flicked on the power. Then he lay  
down on the boxes and took aim, sniper style. As soon as the shield  
was down, so was Skulker.

------------------------

Somewhere in Salem, MA

The house was three blocks from the Massachusetts Institute of  
Technology and housed students who preferred to live off campus. An  
old lawn chair sat on the front lawn, the porch held a grill and the  
inside was mess.

Anyone looking to enter the house found themselves in a maze of  
paper, mountain dew boxes and pizza boxes. The stairs had long since  
been covered in rubbish and resembled a ramp more than anything. The  
kitchen was an unplanned chemistry lab and the living room had become  
a server room.

Somewhere in the maze, a phone rang, startling Tucker Foley out of  
his nap. He lay in a hammock formed out of old bedsheets atop what he  
was fairly sure was a couch, long since buried. By long repetitious  
practice, his finger found the answer key.

"Hello?"

"Tucker Foley? My name is Egon Spengler."

"Don't want any, thanks." Tucker hung up. "Now, Miss January, where  
were we?" The phone rang again. "Hello?"

"Danny Fenton is in trouble."

Tucker sat straight up. "Trouble?"

"I've yet to ascertain the details, but he requires a program called  
Skulker."

"But why . . . wait. Spengler? The ghost dude?"

"Indeed. Danny is in my employ. The program, please."

How do I know you're really Spengler?"

"You're being deliberately obtuse."

"Well its a valid question!" Tucker exclaimed.

There was an exasperated sigh. "One moment please." Tucker heard the  
sound of voices and then a new one.

"Tucker? My name is Oscar Venkman and I just saw Danny Fenton turn  
into someone else. Right now he's getting his ass kicked by some  
metal psychopath he can't touch because of  some kind of ghost shield  
and at least two very good people are hurt very badly. So either you  
send my uncle that program, or I swear to God I will come up there  
and rip out your liver through your nose."

Spengler's voice came back. "Mister Foley?"

Tucker swallowed. "Where should I send the program?"

------------

Some time ago, Danny had begun compiling what Tucker had referred to  
as the pain scale. It rated the level of pain by what object Danny  
had been thrown into or dropped onto on a ten point scale. One being  
people, ten being steel building beams.

Wooden crates were about a four. Four point five if your speed was  
greater than 45mph when you hit them.

Teeth gritted, Danny pushed his way out of the crates. These appeared  
to be holding those iron rods that he'd seen being used in making  
bridges and building walls.

"You've lost, Ghost Child," Skulker gloated. "You cannot touch me,  
you cannot beat me, and you cannot win against me." The hunter made a  
fist and a wicked looking blade slid out from his gauntlet. "Nothing  
you throw at me can hurt me. It ends tonight."

Danny blinked up at him. Skulker was right. He'd thrown everything he  
had at Skulker and . . . wait. Thrown? Thrown! Danny grabbed one of  
the rods and threw it at Skulker, where it bounced off his chestplate  
with a resounding clang.

"What deviltry is this?" Skulker yelled as Danny snatched up another  
iron rod and hit him with it.

"The inherent weakness of the Ghost Shield, Skulker. It keeps out  
ecto-energy and anything with ecto-energy in it. But these are plain  
old iron rods. Human made. Not a bit of ecto in it anywhere. I can't  
touch you, BUT THESE CAN!"

"No! NO!" Skulker stepped back as Danny grabbed the rod with both  
hands and rammed it into the chestplate with all his strength. Sparks  
flew in all directions and the flickering green of the Ghost Shield  
vanished.

"A Mortal blow . . . were I human." Skulker sneered as he pulled out  
the rod and flung it away.

"Just leveling the playing field," Danny shot back and beckoned  
Skulker with two fingers. "For old times sake."

"Yes," Skulker said and then laughed. Yes and why not? For old times  
sake." He took one step forward and then arched backwards as he was  
struck by a proton beam and forcibly dragged away from Danny. "What?  
No!"

Danny looked to see where the beam was coming from and saw Oscar,  
Ray, Peter, and Winston standing on the crates, proton guns in hand  
and streams of energy binding Skulker in their implacable grip,  
tendrils reaching out hungrily for Danny. Reflexively, he changed back.

"Hunt this, jackass!" Kylie yelled. She was up on one knee and had  
deployed a trap.

"What? No!"

The trap opened and the spectral equivalent of a black hole seized  
Skulker and began to drag him into its maw.

"No! Plasmia! You promised me victory. You promised!"

"Plasmia?" Danny repeated, "Who's Plasmia?"

But Skulker was gone.

Danny stared at the trap and then realized that he'd changed in front  
of Oscar, and the other Ghostbusters, who were staring at him,  
questions on their faces.

Unbidden, he thought of a line from an old TV show.

Lucy, you got some 'splainin to do.

-----------------

The minion approached Plasmia and knelt. "Mistress. The Ghostbusters  
have captured Skulker. With help from the Phantom. He appears to be  
working for them."

"So, Danny Phantom is in New York. Excellent, it saves me the trouble of
sending him your head." The minion shrank back, eyes wide in fright, and
Plasmia smiled. "So you've given up the heroic nonsense, good. You might
be able to save the old man's life after all."

The minion hid a flinch and then finished the report. "They are
proceeding back to their base. There is time to intercept them and
retrieve Skulker before they can place him in their storage facility."

"There is no need. Skulker was merely a messenger." The wall screen
turned on and began playing a loop of the Phantom's last words to
Skulker. Plasmia reached up one hand and touched the screen, gloved
fingertip tracing the lines of Phantom's nose and lips. "And the message
has been delivered."

A black gloved fist shattered the screen with a single blow as the  
chamber filled with laughter. But the sound loop continued to play.

"Who's Plasmia? Who's Plasmia? Who's Plasmia? Who's Plasmia? Who's  
Plasmia? . . ."

             .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'