Author's notes: So this is a relatively fast-paced story with a lot of run-on sentences. IT'S MEANT TO BE. The song was relatively fast and I wanted it to match and I wanted the descriptions to just come at you. Anyways.

'Tear you Apart' lyrics by She Wants Revenge

Danny Phantom © Butch Hartman and all that.

He runs a hand through his hair, checking the mirror, checking the reflection of the face that stared back so nervous. Blue eyes terrified and shimmering under that messy curtain of black- can't do anything about it, it'll never settle down- well there's no turning back. Just do it.

He bites his lip- he can't make his stomach settle, there's just too much on his mind, like a weight resting on his shoulders, chewing happily on his thoughts, tugging with restless claws at his organs and he sighs, trying desperately to bring the color back to his face, get rid of the bags under his eyes like storm clouds on a summer day. He straightens his tie- the hundredth time that night- swallows hard, opens the door.

Got a big plan, this mindset maybe its right

At the right place and right time, maybe tonight

And the whisper or handshake sending a sign

Want to make out and kiss hard, wait never mind

"We're late Danny, come on!"

Good God he'd like to slap that annoying voice out of the air, like a bee by his ear.

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

Thunder down the stairs, take them two at a time and slide the rest of the way down the banister with a nervous hop. He's shaking and his friend can see, mimics it with a shake of his head, a black beret in place of the ratty red one- something to match his black slacks and dark purple shirt.

There's a sound rushing in his ears, a crashing roar of blood as it flows in heated rivers through his temples. He can't think straight, can't see anything around him but the door- just get to the door and go from there- just go for the goddamn door.

"You okay man? You look like you're gonna be sick."

Sick? Sick? Sick was an understatement. He was going to die- a horrible, painful death with his heart out on his sleeve bleeding a lake of dreams and desires. Who was he kidding- what was he thinking- what choice did he have? Could he really go another day thinking about her, rushing to her in his every waking moment, dreaming about her in his sleep?

There were things he could ignore, there were things he could face- there were even things in the world he could explain. What was he supposed to do with her? He knew what he wanted- what he needed- and shaking with that thought, that image in his eyes, he brushes past his friend with a pleading glance- 'don't do this to me tonight,' they say 'just let me keep my lips together or I think I'll be sick.'

Door is open, the night air rolling in hot and thick, get in the car, turn on the air conditioning, can't believe his parents are letting him drive. Tucker in shotgun, buckling up.

"You don't have to go man, it's just a stupid school dance."

Yeah, stupid school dance where everything will change- everything is on the line now. His hands are sweating as he grips the steering wheel and backs out of the driveway, taillights blazing into the night sweltering around them. The trash cans cry out in protest as they're sent crashing into the street and he pulls out too quickly, leaving a mess behind as he speeds off in a new direction.

"Whoa!" Tucker's eyes on him, eyebrows raised, no jokes, no quips, just concerned. "You being overshadowed or something?"

"I'm fine," he bites out, chops the words off his tongue in the hopes of keeping back the swimming, boiling storm in his stomach.

Stopping at a red light is hard, now that he's moving he just wants to get there- wants to see her face. He knows she'll be beautiful- she's always beautiful, always everything. That red light is mocking him, ruling over the intersection with its greedy crimson eye, watching his fingers tapping a staccato on the steering wheel, his feet matching the pace on the break, waiting, waiting, waiting…

He peels through the blessed field of green, taking the left down the main road and her house is right there, looming like a monster out of his fantasies in all its grandeur and glory. He parks slowly in front of the Grecian columns, butterflies hatching in his stomach and flapping, flapping into his lungs and he can't breathe damn them, now he doesn't know if he can make it to her door.

Tucker starts to unbuckle, looking at his friend, a bit concerned- maybe Danny's going mental? 'Yes, yes I am,' he can't help but think- what else can he be?

"I'll just go get her then…"

"No!" His fingers slip on the buckle and he tries three times before he's free. "I'll- I'll do it."

Late night, in passing, mentioned it flip to her

Best friend, it's no thing, maybe it slipped

But the slip turns to terror and the crush to like

When she walked in he froze up, leaves it to fright

How long had he been acting so strange, how much did they see or suspect? Was he drifting away, pulling them apart with his fears and his paranoia? Had he been this schizophrenic for that long or was it something new? He had to be insane to think he could do this- a momentary lapse in judgment, that's what he'd say when she slapped him first and asked him later.

The doorbell is like a fucking gong in the night, an expensive chime ringing throughout the vast hallways until the patter of high heels replaces the noise. The door swings open, she's smiling and he's nearly falling over- struck blind between the eyes by her face. She's so beautiful in black and violet, her favorite colors, and his fingers are shaking when he hands her the black rose he spent three weeks trying to find, hoping she doesn't notice the worn look to the petals, the way the leaves are crushed and a bit bent. He'd twisted the thing again and again in his hands, wondering.

She's ecstatic and she hugs him, throwing soft arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek- doesn't she know it drives him crazy? Doesn't she feel the way his powers jerk out of his control at her touch; the way the smell of her perfume (rich vanilla and something heavier, something that belongs to her and her alone) sends his eyes blazing? He takes a deep breath, hugging her back, gently, gently.

He leads her to the car, holding her hand- just like a friend, only a friend- and opens the door for her, lets her rant about women's rights and the power they've gained and how she doesn't need him to open the goddamn door because he saw the way she smiled when he did it and that's all that he really cares about. He practically floats- in fact he does- back into the driver's seat, hits the gas a little harder because his whole body's gone intangible and the car won't move until he notices his hands aren't holding the steering wheel- just passing through.

It's cute in a way, till you cannot speak

And you leave to have a cigarette, knees get weak

An escape is just a nod and a casual wave

Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days

Tucker's eyeing him again and he grins, sheepish, glancing at her face in the rearview mirror, and he's happy because he has her there and that's all that matters.

The dance is loud, music pounding and people shouting as they dance the night away. Girls are swinging their hips and tossing their hair with the boys just watching from the sidelines, admiring smirks in arrogant faces until one of them gets pulled up to dance along and then the fun begins.

Tucker runs off, some girl he knows is beckoning from a group and he says he's got work to do. They're awkward now, alone at the fringes of the mass of dancing teenagers and she's criticizing the pointlessness of these kinds of things- just a popularity contest, you know how these things work- and he asks her if she wants to dance.

The song is so fast, but he takes her hand and leads her out into the center, where the heat and the music are at their highest, and takes her waist in his hands. She looks up at him, a smirk on her face, and she starts to move just like the other girls in the room, that little black and purple dress doing nothing to hide the way her body shifts under the fabric, pressing against him, making him blush. He's dizzy with excitement and he closes his eyes, moving with her, letting his head drop into the space where her shoulder meets her neck and he can smell her, feel the faint flutter of a pulse against his cheek.

She turns around so her back is pressed against his chest and she drops down, comes back up, everything touching and a shiver goes up his spine. This is dangerous, but he wants more and he holds her tighter, threatening to crush her against him as they sway, cheek to cheek, her hand in his hair, tangling it in her fingers.

The song changes, they keep moving, hypnotized by the pulse of the beat, the mesmerizing control of moving bodies pressed together, seamless and amoebic. There's Tucker beside them, asking do they want any snacks? The food bar just opened, he could use a drink, and there's a smirk on his face that Danny wants to wipe it off with an ectoplasmic blast if he could.

They follow him to the bar, springing apart as if they had never been so close, as if she never felt that hard excitement building up behind her, and the heated flush of skin against skin. He loosens his tie, re-adjusts himself and gives Tuck a good shove, making his friend laugh but the smirk never disappears.

They sit for a while, yelling over the pounding bass and he's wondering what the hell he was thinking, why didn't she kill him for doing it, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to tell her tonight, could he do it tonight? He has to, he knows it- he's been through all the arguments why he shouldn't: the risk to his friendship, the risk of being a superhero with enemies, the risk of exposure- but he couldn't go another day, not another day without making sure she was his.

Then, God no, someone asks her to dance and she gives him a smile, says yes to her suitor and disappears into the crowd. Tucker grabs his shoulder, holds him steady.

"Your eyes are green."

"Shut up Tuck, don't joke with me right now."

"No I mean, they're glowing, dude."

It's only just a crush, it'll go away

It's just like all the others it'll go away

Or maybe this is danger and you just don't know

You pray it all away but it continues to grow

He runs to the bathroom, fear choking him harder than that damned tie ever did, and stares in the mirror- he's right, their fucking blazing but he can't make them stop, he can't make them go away. He shivers because he's cold- he's always cold when his powers act up, and he knows he's in trouble because she's dancing with someone else, pressing herself against some other man, and it's making him angrier than he's ever been.

He runs back to the dance floor, catches sight of her with her eyes closed dancing just as hard as she had danced with him, only it wasn't him now and he feels the tingle of energy gathering on his fists. He needs to get out, needs to calm down- relax.

Tucker sees him stressed, follows him out into the balmy air, the music fading into a dull roar somewhere in their chests. He pulls off his beret, running a hand through his hair.

"You gotta control it, man."

"I'm trying!" His voice is loud, startling a few couples looking for privacy and they glare at him, whispering a few words of disapproval into one another's ears.

Tucker seems offended. "Try harder. You have no right to get so upset. Either control it, or do something about it."

"What the fuck are you so mad about anyways?" He bites it out, angry- he can't stop it. He's sad the minute the words are in the air, but he can't take it back.

"I'm angry because she waited for you for three years and you know you love her but you won't DO anything!"

They stare at each other, and suddenly he smiles, one of those nervous awkward smiles that he doesn't know she loves so much. "I'm going to- tonight."

Tucker's grin is back, better than ever- version 2.0. "So that's why you've been tripping over yourself."

They go back inside, and he's feeling steadier now because he heard what his friend said- three years. But would she still be waiting? Had she had the patience? His confidence slips, he's shaking again, the nervousness reviving in his chest, he swears he can feel his pulse flutter like the wings of little butterflies. She's by the snacks again, looking confused, glancing around for her two best friends and she spots him, waves a bit, people passing in blurs around her because all he can see is her.

I want to hold you close

Skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, and close your eyes girl

So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close

Soft breasts, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear

I want to fucking tear you apart

He rushes toward her, and God bless the D.J. a slow song takes the heart of the dancing throng and squeezes it, crumbling it down until only the couples remain. The rest scatter, terrified for their singular status and their lonely hearts, flocking to the edges of the room where their friends and their snacks are waiting. The floor is dominated by pairs staring deeply into one another's eyes, heads lying languidly on shoulders, feet shuffling in circles as they sway from side to side.

He takes her hand, hardly realizing how he got there in the first place, and leads her out under the soft blue glow. She's staring at him, eyes wide, hardly breathing, he can feel the stutter of her breath against his neck as he pulls her toward him and wraps an arm around her waist. She links her fingers behind his neck, still staring into his eyes, hardly daring to hope, confusion- maybe something else- riddling the perfect amethyst glass of her gaze.

Then he walked up and told her, thinking maybe it'd passed

And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance

Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there

Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare

He can feel her against him and he wants to drown in her, he buries his face in her neck, devouring the scent of her. She's his, he'll make her his, he doesn't care what he has to do just so long as he can keep her to himself for the rest of his life because she's special, she's different, she's been beside him so long that she's become a part of him somehow, a reflection of himself that he can't bear to lose. She knows him better than he knows himself, she's the only part of him that matters and he needs her, he needs her so much, he wishes there wasn't anyone left in the world so that he could have her to himself, wishes that there was no one there to stare, to pull them apart.

The song is ending but they can't pull apart, frozen in the center of the ring as the dancers flood back into the crowd, jumping and bouncing and grinding in the new beat. He opens his eyes and looks at her and she's biting her lip, just one perfect white tooth gripping the soft pink flesh and its so cute that he leans forward and brushes his lips against hers.

He freezes, waiting, and she sighs, deepens the gesture, opening herself to him. He probes once with his tongue, testing her response and he can feel her moan, the sound vibrating under his fingertips where they rest lightly on her slender neck, soft warm skin, and he pulls her closer, devouring her, the kiss passing from chaste to passionate. There's something building in them both, gathering deep inside them and springing forward, long repressed and finally let loose and suddenly someone bumps into them.

They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do

Cause there's always repercussions when you're dating in school

But their lips met, and reservations started to pass

Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last

They break apart, surprised and embarrassed, reminded harshly of where they are and who they're surrounded by and Paulina smiles wickedly, wiggling her fingers in hello. Danny only scowls at her and flips her off, and Sam's grinning because the Latino girl is beyond pissed but Danny doesn't care, he doesn't want to be here anymore- he wants to be alone, with her.

"Come with me," he whispers in her ear, feeling her shiver down the length of her slender spine.

The push their way out of the crowd, and he takes her to a side room where he can transform and take off with her in his arms, careful not to let her skirt flutter indecently in the wind. She smiles up at him, the starlight brighter on her face, the city glowing beneath them and he feels himself grow giddy and light headed, completely drowning in her warm smile.

He takes them to her house because her parents aren't home and he wants her alone. And then she's got him pressed against the wall, kissing him harder than she ever kissed him before and he presses back, the two of them fighting for dominance, their tongues meeting in a passionate battle, fingers brushing in hurried strokes over one another, tangling their clothes and hair, her fancy up do turned into a mess. He wins the fight, lifting her up so that her legs wrap around his waist and he carries her to the bed, never breaking contact, throwing her onto the sheets and she giggles as she kicks off her shoes, arching against him as his tongue swirls a pattern of circles over her neck.

She starts to unbutton his shirt and he pauses a moment, flushed and dizzy with swollen lips parted in question, he never expected to go so far- just a kiss and then have it be over, he never expected to get so much, but she puts a finger to his lips, silencing his query, a coy smile on her face.

"We'll stop before we get too far."

But he doesn't think he could ever stop, not now, not when he has her so close, and he kisses her fiercely, trying to erase all the other men who've touched her, all the other hands that have held her heart. His shirt is undone now and he throws it behind him, brings his hands back to thread them gently under her skirt, running nimble fingers slowly up her thigh, both of them out of breath, taking gulps of air whenever they break apart only to crash together again, always finding each other even with eyes closed.

Either way he wanted her and this was bad

He wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy

Now a little crush turned into a like

And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her

He pulls a trick and phases the dress from her body, making her laugh, crossing her arms over her chest in a mock attempt at modesty. He grins and tickles her briefly and they roll further onto the bed together, tangled in the sheets. His hand find her breast and they pause, eyes meeting through the haze of desire and she arches against him, putting more of herself into his palm and his hand fits so perfectly over the soft round shape, molding easily under his fingers he glances down, tracing her smooth curves with his eyes- the womanly rise and fall of her hips and breasts that seemed to develop so suddenly in just three years.

He puts his other hand on the small of her back, presses her flush against him, his arousal pinned between her thighs, and he traces her spine to the clasp of her bra, undoes it after a battle with the metal teeth- he can't get the damn thing off- and then her breasts are free, the nipples dark and hard under his fingers.

He kisses her fiercely, running his hands over her body, feeling the heat of her skin driving him crazy and she moans his name as his tongue races over her neck and suckles gently at a place under her ear. And suddenly they've gone so far because time is melting, disappearing for them, and his pants are gone and if he'd had the right protection they might have gone all the way but they stopped just short, coming together instead through mutual favors until he's exhausted and exhilarated, breathing gently into the crook of her neck.

"I love you," he dares to whisper, fingers tightening around her as he tries to hold her tighter, tries to keep her from rejecting him, tries to keep her from disappearing like she always did in his dreams.

She pulls away, terrifying him, but only so that she can look into his eyes and smile.

"Clueless," was all she said. And it was all she'd ever need to say because he knew now, he knew how long she'd been waiting, knew that even when she gave herself away to all the other men- that guy from her poetry club, and that guy from the book store, and the one from the band, and the other one from geometry class- she'd always been waiting for him.

They'd taken so long to get here and he knew, knew that it was simply because it meant so much. She was everything- she was part of him, a second half, an appendage he'd never be able to live without. She defined him.

His mother told him once that ghosts always had an obsession- something that drove them, kept them in the mortal world instead of passing beyond. She called it their "focal point". He was a ghost wasn't he?

He knew it was dangerous, he knew all the reasons why they shouldn't. And he knew he needed her, depended on her, desired her, wanted her- so much it hurt and just to have her made him complete, set his demons back in their cages and kept him sane. She was everything- she was his obsession.

I want to hold you close

Skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, and close your eyes girl

So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close

Soft breasts, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear

I want to fucking tear you apart