A/N: Seriously, you guys actually like this story? After over a year of not updating? That's amazing. Well you asked for a new installment, so enjoy!

Phantom stared suspiciously at it. "What the hell is it?"

Clockwork gave a small smirk. "Something you wanted that Danny Phantom has. An ability that caused quite an uproar with Frostbiteā€¦" His eyes darkened in mystery. "Something that can fuel your rage into power and strong enough to battle opposite of Danny Phantom."

Just as he predicted, Phantom's eyes lit up in a supernatural glow and a hunger beside his stomach began to be seen on the outside. In trepidation he set his hands against the latches.

And opened it.

Chapter V- The Test

There was a slight pause in the beating of whatever organ was lodged in his ribcage at the 'surprise' his companion was giving him. He uncharacteristically fumbled over the latches in gross desire.

The ability to rival Danny Phantom? It was if the gods had granted asylum on his very soul.

Well, if he actually had one.

Clockwork raised an amused eyebrow as he flipped the case top eagerly and stared.

"What the fuck is that?" Phantom pointed at a small, round jewel and found it utterly unimpressive.

His companion stare did not waver. "My way of trusting you in your test."

Seriously, did Clockwork have to put such an insignificant trinket in such a threatening looking case?

Phantom picked it up for closer inspection. It was the size of a marble. "You know-shit!"

The marble began to go from indifferent to lightning hot in two seconds and he would've thrown it had it not developed an adhesive to his palm. It stuck like glue to his skin as he waved his arm in pain.

"Get this shit off of me!" He howled, trying to pry it off with his other hand.

Only the calming sound of Clockwork's voice stopped him from a rampage around the kitchen. "Be calm. You'll only aggravate it further."

The flailing slowly stopped and Phantom gritted his teeth in pain as the marble slowly made it's way through his skin and into his body. The spitting fire slowly dissipated as it disappeared into his arm.

"The fuck just happened?"

Clockwork's gaze never left where the marble once remained on Phantom's palm. "It will be a daring experience now, but I believe we have provided the necessary vitals to take care of your anger issues."

"What 'anger issues'?" Phantom demanded, slamming his palms on the table. "I haven't done anything!"

"Consciously, no," Clockwork waved the cup of coffee before taking a drink. "Unconsciously? A whole 'nother story."

Phantom stared at him. "I don't get you."

"You are not alone in that endeavor, I assure you. In any case, you will find out the extent of what that gem contains in the near future. You'll just have to take my word for it when the time comes."

Phantom really, really despised not being informed of anything concerning him. It made him feel no longer in control of his destiny than the next ghost.

A scathing quip was somehow lost when he took a good look at Clockwork's tired expression. He decided to off his feelings and pursue another mystery. "So, what the fuck happened to you last night?"

Either he was surprised at the change of subject, or the fact that Phantom had a worried note of that inquiry, Clockwork didn't say. He took a sip of his now cold coffee. "It is of no consequence."


"In any case," Clockwork swiftly closed the subject and peered intently at Phantom's hands again. "I am expecting a whole hearted thank you for the trouble I had to obtain that gem."

Phantom waved it aside. "I know you're like, in love with me, but jewelry looks unflattering on me. However," His eyes glinted and his lips pulled into a slight grin. "If you really want to thank me, that bed you've got looks quite inviting."

Clockwork raised an indifferent eyebrow. "Indeed."

"You can show me all the bells and whistles on it too. For educated purposes of course."

That finally got Clockwork to lift the corners of his lips up marginally. "You shouldn't tempt me when I'm in no state to fight back."

It was Phantom's turn for his eyebrow to lift. Now they've crossed the border from Bantersville to Flirt City. Although, maybe it's in bad taste to mess with Clockwork while he's too tired to hulk up his defenses, but then again, Phantom was no boy scout.

Phantom stood up and quietly circled the table towards his prey, a rather insufferable smile gracing his features. Clockwork watched him warily.

"Just because I'm slightly tired, does not mean you will have your way," Clockwork reasoned with a hint of warning in his tone. "You will not enjoy the consequences."

Phantom smirked. "That sounds like an invitation."

Clockwork said nothing. The dark haired ghost managed to fully circle his way to the back of Clockwork's chair and stared at the time ghost from an upwards profile. Clockwork was undoubtedly trying to hide his fatigue with a mask of stone and Phantom wondered what happened last night that would warrant the reason why Clockwork had not the chance to recharge.

There was a strange pounding in his ears as he pressed a hand on his companion's shoulder. Clockwork stiffened slightly. Phantom's eyes trailed down to Clockwork's arm and discovered that the wound was slowly dissipating, but not fully healed.

What had caused Clockwork to be unable to fully heal was baffling to the renegade ghost. Aside from the lack of sleep last night, the wound was already a few days old.

Without meaning to, he patted Clockwork's shoulder awkwardly. "You should get some sleep today."

"Unnecessary," Clockwork debated. "I am fine."

"Bullshit to the ninth degree," Phantom squeezed almost reassuring on his shoulder, which caused Clockwork to falter slightly. Sensing weakness, he rested his other hand on the opposite shoulder and experimentally squeezed in different pressures. "You look fucked."

Clockwork said nothing, though something akin to a sigh erupted from his lips and his head fell forward slightly as Phantom continued his ministrations.

Realizing that he was unconsciously giving one of his hated enemies a massage, he nearly stopped, which a strange sound of discontent emerged from the Time Ghost's lips. He resumed, taking liberties to run his fingers down the sides of Clockwork's neck and down between his shoulder blades.

As he experimentally pressed at a sensitive base of the blades, Clockwork's head fell back slightly, revealing a darkened shade of his human eyes that fell half-closed.

He's enjoying this, was what formed in the back of Phantom's head. He stared shamelessly at the soft white-blond hair falling back and the exposed pale Adam's apple in full protrusion. Phantom's mouth went dry, which was something uncommon when he was once a ghost.

Alright, so maybe he didn't look fucked. But he sure looked ready for it.

"Phantom," Something akin to a purr erupted from his blond companion's lips. Whatever he said afterwards fell on deaf ears as Phantom leaned down and pressed his lips against the side of Clockwork's throat.

Wait a moment. Phantom stilled.

Oh shit.

He jumped back as if somehow Clockwork was on fire. What the hell did he do that for?

There was an awkward silence and Clockwork neither turned nor regarded Phantom. Thankful and yet pissed beyond reason, Phantom stalked out of the kitchen for a long cold shower.

Clockwork remained seated and if Phantom had stayed a moment longer, he'd see a look of conflict on his face and his grip on his coffee mug causing it to crack under the strain.

When Phantom emerged from the bathroom, he found the main room empty and the bedroom locked. And somehow he felt the long forgotten stirrings of unabashed guilt. Shaking it off as he reluctantly picked up his bag, he figured that Clockwork had taken his advice and decided to take the day off.

He suddenly swore as he walked out of the apartment. He had forgotten to do his math homework. Wait, he cared about his school work now?

Deciding to forget school for just one day (and a breather from dodging Paulina all through his classes), he went back inside, deciding to just laze around. After all the shenanigans so far, he deserved rest too!

Phantom sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, having been told previously by Clockwork on how to manipulate the machine. Flipping the channels, he stopped at a news briefing and sat back against the couch, watching the current events.

Most of it was relatively boring, save for the bit about Danny Phantom dealing with that strange tiger ghost and word from the Fenton family of it still being at large. Something in his chest tightened upon seeing his 'mother' and 'father' on screen, but he ignored it. He had to remind himself that they weren't his parents. They were Danny's.

His senses nearly dulled out from boredom before the channel seemed to snow in odd times, until it snowed completely, taking out the picture. Phantom frowned. He didn't think that the TV was that old. His eyes began to narrow when he heard strange white voices come out from the hissing sound of the snowing. Being a ghost, he could clearly hear it.


Phantom, poised to turn off the TV with the remote, widened his eyes at the message. "What the fuck...?"

Kill...kill...him...kill him...

He pressed the 'off' button on the remote. The picture didn't shut off.

Be free...kill him...kill...kill...

Before Phantom knew it, he found himself unable to move, his eyes searching through the snowy picture for a face and he didn't know why. All he could hear was the word 'kill' and it soon reverberated in his mind like a beating drum.

He was still coherent, but part of his mind seemed to be hazy. It forced his body up from the couch.

There was no way in the Netherworld that he would let someone control him. Phantom fought the hypnosis but to no avail. His legs started to stiffly move away from the couch and towards the bedroom door.

Nether shit.

Still in a hazy daze, he watched as he made his way inside, to where a sleeping Clockwork rested on the bed, looking out of place from the dimension of melting clocks and a space visual of time.

When Phantom said he wanted to get to know Clockwork's bed, he didn't mean it like this. That was the only morbidly coherent thought he had in his head as his body was forced to climb onto the bed and hover over the obviously exhausted Time Ghost, his hands itching to squeeze themselves around that pale neck.

Stop it...! Phantom willed against the chanting of death in his head. You don't control me-get the fuck out of my head!

As much as he fancied the idea of strangling Clockwork, he didn't want to do it like this. Not when his companion was too vulnerable to fight. Where was the fun in that? The challenge? It went against everything he stood for as a once powerful ghost.

And yet here he was, his hands grabbing a hold of Clockwork's shoulders. The Time Ghost shifted for a moment, but didn't stir. He was too tired to wake up, too out of it to recognize danger.

It royally pissed off Phantom. For some reason, he didn't want to hurt Clockwork. Not like this.

Get the fuck away from me! He tried to scream at Clockwork, but he found even his vocal cords unable to listen to him. Wake up, or I'll fucking kill you!

And all he could hear was kill. Kill him. Kill Clockwork.

His chest became so tight, Phantom thought he would suffocate. He was feeling too much-the straddling of his companion, the hands on his shoulders moving up to his throat, his fierce reluctance to stop. He just wanted control of his body back.

I'm not gonna let you, you son of a bitch! He thought to himself, gritting his teeth in frustration. No one controls me! This is MY body! Get the fuck out!

Somehow he was able to grunt from sheer will alone. Inspired, he forced his will to fight back the haze, his body feeling like it was on fire.

"Get out...!" Phantom growled lowly, able to twist his vision away from Clockwork. "GET THE FUCK OUT!"

And to his surprise, a bright flash of indigo smoldered before his eyes, reminding him vaguely of Clockwork's human eyes. It was some sort of fire that attacked the bed post in front of him, the embers menacingly leaving a huge charred scorch mark on the wood. As if it had a mind of it's own, it soared around, Phantom realizing that the origins of it came from his hand which he unconsciously threw out in front of him.

It was ghost fire. Impossible. Even at full strength, Phantom had not acquired such an elemental based power. He watched it engulf the space around him as his anger slowly dissipated-his emotions the driving fuel for the fire. As it flickered out with a roaring sound, Phantom swayed on the spot, totally tired and spent.

"What the fuck just happened?" Phantom asked himself in awe as he fell down to the side of the bed, exhausted enough to fall quickly asleep. The drumming sound of death in his head was slowly leaving him.

At least he finally had his chance on the bed.