Disclaimer: Danny Phantom and all related characters are the product of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon studios. Kat/Electra is the property of Silent Elegy.
Pre-Note: Seventeenth in the series, and I've given up trying to avoid straight continuity. It's impossible. So this is a little recap of my previous works for those of you just joining us, though I highly recommend you go read the others anyway. Really, a summary of the stories can't do them proper justice (coughcoughandIlovereviewscough).
The boy yawned, rubbed his eyes tiredly, and blinked at the monitor. It swam around in front of him, refusing to stay put long enough to let him get any work done. He yawned again and, deciding to finish his homework later, saved his files and shut off the computer. The overhead light was already out, and he was already in his pajamas. With nothing left to hold him back, he stumbled over and fell into bed.
After a very long time, an invisible wisp of consciousness drifted through the wall. It watched just long enough to ensure that the boy was, indeed, asleep before drifting toward the computer. "Okay, Phantom," Kat whispered and cringed inwardly. She had momentarily forgotten to keep her monologue internal. With a quiet twist of power, the computer once again began to run.
The astral gremlin reveled in the hum of the machine for a few minutes. One of her biggest regrets was that she had no brain for hardware. She could possess it, but she couldn't take it apart and put it back together like her father could. She couldn't even merge different machines together. Software, however, was another matter entirely.
She glanced at the sleeping ghost boy as he snorted and began to snore. It was almost a fight to keep from laughing out loud; at times like that, she was even happier that she didn't have a body. It couldn't turn on her and betray her with its involuntary systems and random noises. Life was certainly better when you didn't need to eat to maintain it.
But she had quite forgotten her purpose. She did have one, after all. Danny had let slip that he kept a diary on his computer. Kat had feigned a complete lack of interest to his relief. Apparently, as many months as they had known each other, he still couldn't tell when she was lying. She would have shaken her head in amusement if she had actually had one.
The computer announced its usual demand for a password, and Paulina Fenton didn't seem to work. Apparently, he had changed it. Well, no matter. Kat came from a long line of genius scientists; the mind of a teenaged boy couldn't be that complicated.
Ten minutes and thirty "Invalid Password"s later, she decided that quantum physics was easier than trying to guess that kid's password and simply hacked her way beyond it. That took another twenty minutes to do; Danny had been hanging around Tucker for way too long.
"Finally!" she exclaimed, then winced and shut off the monitor. The sleeping boy merely muttered something, however; he rolled over, and Kat relaxed again.
The monitor came back on to display the boy's desktop. A few icons littered the screen; she almost squealed in delight when one them was titled, "Diary." She clicked on it, eager to find out exactly what the boy thought of her; her ego demanded that she found out, and she was more than happy to oblige.
"'Nice try, Ms. Technus'...?" She cursed colorfully. Obviously, she had made the same mistake as her father and underestimated the ghost child. It was painfully easy to do, really. He did such a good job of seeming weak and inconsequential.
Another twenty minutes worth of hunting around, and she was just about ready to give up. She had one trick left, but she didn't hold out much hope. There was a good chance Danny had lied to her to see what she would do. However, she reached into the CPU and forced it to tell what she wanted to know. Ten minutes taught her that firewalls built by Tucker actually burned, but she finally found what she was looking for.
"Okay, ghost child," she whispered, glancing impishly at the steadily breathing lump before typing in a search for her name. "Let's see…'It's official; Kat is more annoying than the Box Ghost.' Annoying!"
She allowed her eyes to blaze red for a moment. Since she was still invisible, it caused an effect reminiscent of the Ghost Master's usual appearance, but she didn't pay any attention to that. Her ego demanded retribution for the slight, and she knew just how to get it. With a malicious internal grin, she brought up his email.