Disclaimer: I really don't own Danny Phantom, don't believe me? Jeez, no one believes me…

Author's Notes: Just a one shot, I can't get my lazy butt up to make any comics or at the very least finish any of my other fics, so here's the result. Also, for continuity nuts, this takes place after the very last time a certain musician ghost was put away…maybe I've said too much…

In Dreams

It had started off as a joke, really it had. After being sent back to the Ghost Zone for the umpteenth time, she, Ember Mclean had naturally wanted to get back at the one who sent her there. This was all standard for the former rocker now turned exact same rocker, only dead.

From her first encounter with the "halfa" or half ghost half boy creature known as Danny Phantom, she knew that her frequent rejections, or rather, returns back to the Ghost Zone would become cut and dry standard procedure.

What she didn't know was how much she would begin to enjoy the encounters, even if she wasn't sure why.

From the semi idiotic almost scripted banter that they would start off with, to the actual fighting, or as they case may have been, he fighting whoever or whatever hapless minion she had managed to coerce from Ghost Zone to help her out. The first time, obviously she was angry, or rather, vengeful, but from there, and with each successive failed attempt at Ghost Zone breakout, she was less so. The second time, she was still angry, but she couldn't help but crack a smirk at the whole absurdity of their shared situation.

He was a teenage goof who could barely control his own powers; she was a ghost of someone who died barely out of their teens, whose whole reason for even coming into conflict with the teenage ghost goof was just to be…remembered. The fact that he remembered her…maybe that was what had so quickly and deeply cut her, or more specifically pierced her, so close to her core.

With a smile, she remembers the second time. The time when he cried out her name during whatever particular plot she was hatching that week. She remembers the shock that ran through the façade of her body, the depth of feeling that had hit her, completely unwillingly. She felt movements and rhythms drum up from with her that she hadn't felt since her actual…living life.

Of course she denied it, not from anyone she associated with (she rarely if ever socialized with her fellow ghosts outside of some impromptu concerts and bemoaning the presence of the box ghost) but mainly from herself. She knew the truth though, that this idiotic boy through action and repetition had rocked her to her very core. Not her heart, as that resided with the rest of her body in an unmarked grave, but her core, her essence, that which transcended her living form into her eternal one.

Was it even possible to experience this sort of feeling, being as she was? She had heard that spirits tended to take the emotions of their living predecessors and amplify them a hundred fold, for good or ill, but she had never…this sort of feeling was never a priority or even much of a consideration when she was alive.

Yet, here she was, within the evergreen confines of the Ghost Zone pondering the one who unceremoniously threw her there. She knew, even here, countless real world miles away, and separated by a dimensional barrier, it was night where the sometimes ghost boy resided. She knew he was asleep, if only because she was the very last of a baker's dozen of ghosts that he had taken on that night, and hell, even if she knew she would fail, she would make him work for it.

Only when he was asleep could she reach out to him. Only for now, when he was asleep could she reach out to him, transcend the two dimensions and link herself, whatever "herself" really was to some part of that ghost child that floated free and detached when he slumbered.

At first, she played pranks on him, even going so far as to push some of his sweeter dreams into nightmares. However, as quickly as she became accustomed to the ability itself, she soon found herself more and more unwilling to darken his dreams, less and less did she demean the sweet innocence his consciousness more or less afforded him. With a laugh she remembered some of the less than pure dreams she had come across, most involved either a girl, or as so many men were prone to fantasize, many girls.

However, the crazed hormonal influence of a teenage male body aside, there was one reoccurring character in the young half ghost's dreams. More so than finally being rid of his powers, more than having two parents who worked the nine to five grind and considered ghosts childish nonsense, that girl reappeared so many times in his dreams.

That girl called Sam, there was something between them. Perhaps love, perhaps not, but most definitely a connection that transcended the definition of friendship. She remembered with a wistful look the gamut of dreams this boy had had about that girl. Ranging from full on confessions of love to simply walks and conversations with their friend who couldn't sing for crap.

Ember was not jealous, rockers; especially dead ones are so far and beyond such petty things. Becoming aloof to the simple emotions of boys meeting girls was simply something she had done long before death, so of course this half ghost liked that fully human girl. Hitting a particularly hard note, Ember noted that Goths were so passé.

She couldn't help herself. Every night, or as many nights as she could, she entered his dreams, trying to open his mind, trying to at least make him see a choice, if not another whole path.

"Damn it, when did I become so...emo…" Ember thought to herself with a grin/grimace, the term "emo" having only recently been introduced into Ghost Zone. But despite all the humor, all the irony, and the sheer impossibility of her situation, she hoped, and she thought. Because that is what someone did when they had time and no real distractions, they thought and they hoped.

Every night she had the chance, hell, even the days to when he would fall asleep in class, she would sneak in. A few seconds here, a couple hours there, at first she felt a little guilty like she was taking advantage of some kind of incredible weakness. This theory was dismantled entirely when Ember herself saw that this boy, this soon to be man and his imagination created forces and ideas too damn strong for her or any of her ilk to deal with.

"Leave that mind bending crap to Plasmius, or someone else with higher goals." She justified. The smarter ones probably already knew or just didn't care, so neither did she. For now when it was just her in his dreams, she could be truly and utterly selfish, and just enjoy it.

But did he enjoy it? When she was just another face in the harem of girls he could have in some of his more "intense" dreams then of course he probably did, but what about when it was just her? Just her and him?

At first when she was too eager, no. He would force her out, or force himself away. But when she started slowly, a few changes to the settings and her attitude towards him here and there, he eventually stopped rejecting her out right. That girl, Sam or something was still the main focus, but that was okay. Whether or not this Sam would have him in the waking world, she'll always have a small part of him for their dreams. Their dreams, it certainly wasn't just her invading his anymore, it couldn't be anymore.

So she waited and she wondered. Damn it if she didn't hate feeling this way. Wondering if he was thinking about her, thinking about what dream she, they, would have that night. She wondered if he would think with a smile or even a smirk, if he would just think about it, about her. She couldn't pin point when she started feeling this way, did it matter for a ghost? A ghost for a half ghost? No, it didn't, it couldn't matter.

"But I have the time, so why not?" Ember thought to herself. He went to the trouble of remembering her, giving her all she really wanted. Tuning her guitar, plucking a few practice strings, she would reward him, and more. She could feel it, it was late and he had just captured a record number of ghosts that night. He had just fallen asleep before even hitting the pillow.

Something simple tonight, because between them it only had to be such, because if there was one thing they had in common it was time. And for tonight, it would be a song. She had thought of it herself naturally, because that is what someone did when they had time and no real distractions. They thought and they hoped.


Well, I think it can go without saying I live on feedback so please be so kind! I hope you enjoyed. Good night and I'll see you all when I see you (Lord knows when that'll be).