Okay, I take it back-THIS is the smuttiest thing I've ever written.

The final subject on my list of DP Slash Stories! Whoo!

The correct term for one who has great love of one's self is 'narcissist'. That's all well and dandy, but I dont think that it's the proper term for me.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I think that it was around age seventeen that I began to realize that Sam and I were not meant to be together. We werent compatible, for one. For another, I couldnt bring myself to see her as the beautiful person she really was. I mean, I didnt notice. Any boy my age worth his salt would be thinking about getting into her fishnets 99% of his waking day. I didnt. It was just a few weeks ago that she seemed to catch the gist of what I was feeling-or lack of feeling-and she broke it off with me.

She found a new guy (a Goth, predictably) just five days later.

Nice. Now I was empathizing with Vlad in the category of loneliness.

And now here I am, sitting on a rooftop after dodging Valerie on her nightly sweep of the town, looking up at the crescent moon. Alone. I sighed. I seemed to be alone a lot these days. Jazz was in college, Tucker advanced a grade, and was now in some technical school for techno-geeks like himself, and Sam was busy wallowing in the darkness and uber-dispairity of a Goth poetry reading with her new beau. The hell did she know about darkness and dispair? SHE wasnt half-dead like me.

Fucking posers. I began seeing why most of the ghosts hated the living. They wanna be dead so bad? Quit missing the vein with the razor, assholes.

I sighed and laid on my back, my arms folded behind my head. It was a nice October night. If I werent the hero, I'd probably be scaring the living shit out of someone for no particular reason. But being the 'hero' was quickly getting old. If I wanted to kick a ghost's ass just to keep in shape, I'd visit Skulker. I didnt really NEED to wait for him to come to me. Negative ghost activity kind of slowed lately, but I wasnt going to deny my ghost half exercise because of that.

This was boring.

I sat up and stretched, then looked over the edge of the building I had been lying on, wondering if I just let myself fall with no powers, would it hurt? Ugh, I need a hobby. I'm thinking morbid thoughts. I turned invisible and took off toward my house. Maybe I WOULD go to the Ghost Zone to bother Skulker. Maybe hack into his systems and make him Riverdance, or something, just for shits and giggles. I flew into my parents' lab and opened up the Portal, eyeing the green swirl of ghostly atmosphere for a moment, admiring it really, before flying in, hearing the doors shut behind me.

The pathway was pretty clear tonight, I thought. Good. As much as I was bored, I didnt want any trouble I didnt feel like causing. I kept flying aimlessly around for awhile until Clockwork's clock tower came into my view. I felt a hint of a grin pull at my lips. Clockwork never could be found unless he WANTED you to be found. ...Or, unless I needed someone to talk to. He liked me, for some reason, and always had some spare time for me.

Dont I feel special?

I flew to the tower and walked right in, looking around at surroundings I had become familiar with. Clockwork could kind of empathize with me in terms of loneliness; he never had company, other than those stupid Obververs who bugged the crap out of him. Well, there was me, when I wanted to talk, but I dont really count much, do I?

I found him in the observing room, looking into circular screens of past, present, and future visions. "Good evening, Daniel," he said without turning around. "You're looking quite melancholy." I sighed and sat down in a chair, running a hand through my longer hair. I felt like letting it grow out, despite what my parents and the teachers want. I save their butts from homicidal ghost attacks on a nearly weekly basis. God for-freaking-bid I want something for myself.

"How could you guess, Obi-Wan Kenobi?" I asked, smirking dryly. Clockwork grinned at the nickname I had christened him with some time ago, and turned to glide over to me.

"I know everything," he said matter-of-factly, with no hint of superiority in his voice. It's one of the things I liked about my personal mentor; he doesnt brag. He is who he is, and that's who he is. Case closed. He sat down across from me. "You're lonely these days." I snorted.

"'These days'?" I asked. "I'm lonely all the time. I've been lonely since THIS happened to me." I gestured over my ghostly body. "...I just didnt realize it until recently." I leaned forward and propped my head up on my hands. "And part of me...doesnt really seem to care if I'm lonely."

"Perfectly understandable," Clockwork said. "Loneliness is quite common for ghosts. It's one of the reasons why the Ghost Zone was created eons ago; so the dead-but-not-departed could find a sense of community among their own kind. But you are an outcast in both worlds. Hence, your duality on the matter."

"Gee, thanks for making me feel better."

"You're quite welcome."

I snorted; Clockwork had a wonky sense of humor. His idea of funny was sarcasm and using his Time Scepter to make people do humiliating things over and over again (case in point: when he kept knocking me into a bell with rewind/play when we first met).

Clockwork suddenly levitated up and turned toward the archway I was never allowed to go near; he told me that that was the way to the Observer's dimension. Like I would ever go there. The Observers were critical, lazy assholes. "There's a matter that I must attend to in about five minutes," he said softly. "You're more than welcome to stay for a bit." He waved his hand to the observing screens, no doubt to keep me from seeing something I shouldnt, and changed them up before leaving for the archway. "...Daniel."

Clockwork was the only person who could call me Daniel and not make me feel pissed off about it. "Yeah?" He gave me a pensieve, 'all-knowing' look.

"...Sometimes when you're lonely, you're the only person you can turn to." Leaving me with that cryptic message, he vanished from my sight.

...Okay, screw Obi-Wan Kenobi; he was as hard to understand as Yoda sometimes.

I sighed and leaned back in my designated chair. Yeah, I was lonely, and I kept myself company a lot. But I had a distinct feeling that that wasnt what he was talking about. I looked over to the screens he had changed and decided to go amuse myself with reality TV, absently wondering if Clockwork ever used them to watch soap operas and then use his future powers to see what would happen five months down the road to see who killed who and whose baby belonged to whom.

...The hell does he need soap operas for? LIFE is a soap opera.

I walked up to the screens and watched them for a bit before jerking back instinctively when a familiar face sprung up on the screen, and I DO mean familiar.

...My dark future self. 'Dan', I think he called himself. It kind of fit his older looks; I mean, I couldnt see how HE could be called 'Danny' by a longshot. Anyway. This as obviously the alternate future that never happened or would happen. Dan was currently kneeling on the edge of a desicrated building, his arm folded over his knee, as he surveyed a broken city, his blood-red eyes looking for any survivors he might have missed. It was twilight in this scene, and the setting sun made a nice contrast to his white flaming hair. His face actually looked passive; calm, almost. It was an expression I hadnt seen on him before.

It was a beautiful image, the dead people in the streets excluded, of course.

I stared at the little scene, entranced, almost, until Dan finally saw someone and he grinned, hs forked tongue flicking almost hungrily over his lips as he shot forward and picked up a middle-aged man and carried the screaming man up into the sky before letting him drop. I thought back to the time my dad stepped on a watermelon once; THAT was what the man's body sounded like when it hit the ground.


Dan only looked down at the bloody mess he made and laughed before running a hand through his flaming white hair and flying off to find another city he'd yet to touch.

I watched him for a few moments more before blinking; something...wasnt quite right. I looked around the clock tower; everything was in its proper place. No on else was here but me. I shrugged and shifted around for a moment before blinking again and looking down.

...Aw, you had to be shitting me.

Watching my evil alternate-future self had given me a hard-on.

No. Just...no. No, no, no, no, NO! THIS was NOT possible! This was NOT happening! I clenched my eyes shut and backed away from the screen, mentally adding 'Gets off on seeing my evil future self destroy shit' on my list of 'Things That Make Me a Freak'. Shutting my eyes wasnt exactly the best way to get rid of the image of Dan; I could still see him in all his firey, destructive glory; his blood-red eyes, his handsome face, his body with pecs you could polish diamonds off of...


I backed into something while I was too busy fantasizing about evil incarnate, and it jostled before dropping something hard on my head. I hissed in pain and rubbed the sore spot before looking down at what had fallen. I froze.

...The Fenton Thermos.

The SAME Thermos that held the object of my unwitting lust.

...It was like my life had suddenly become one of those aforementioned soap operas, with all the little details falling into place at the most convenient moments. I stared at the Thermos for a moment, then took a leaping chance and knelt down to pick it up. It felt warm in my hand, like it was alive; hell, I could feel a slight pulsing from it. Dan was most definitely still in here.

I found myself tracing my finger over the crevices of the Thermos, feeling soft sparks erupt from it, like Dan could sense I was out here holding it. He wanted out. He'd wanted out for three years, which was God knew HOW long in clock tower time. And as much as my groin was loving the idea, I couldnt let him out. He was too dangerous. I sighed and turned back to the shelf to put him back. Once more, I was being left alone with no one to turn...to...

"Sometimes when you're lonely, you're the only person you can turn to."

No...no, that was just too convenient. I sighed and reached up to put the Thermos back on the shelf, put my finger slipped on the side of the Thermos, and it began sparking. I dropped it in shock, and a large crack appeared in it.

'Well...' I thought to myself. 'Shit.'

A bright flash of green light and energy burst from the Thermos, knocking me back, and a deadly chill came over the clock tower. I sat up off the floor and my line of vision was immediately met with white boots and black-clad legs. An interesting twitch appeared over my left eye, and I dared to look higher, trying to tell myself that I HADNT lingered just a moment longer than I should have in the crotch area, and saw the DP insignia. Higher still, and red eyes glared down at me from a shadowed-over face.

Dan was staring down at me with an expression that looked like a cut between curiosity and rage. Couldnt blame him at all. The rage part, anyway. I'd be pissed too if I was trapped in that tiny Thermos for a few years and was suddenly face-to-face with the one who did it. I yelped when he reached down and snatched me up by the front of my own suit and dragged me up to his level; his 'curious' look seeped into surprise when he found that I was looking at him at eye-level and still had my feet on the ground.

Without taking his hand off of my suit, he gave me a once-over, and I realized for perhaps the first time how similar we looked. We were the same height, and although he had more muscle than me, I had filled out quite a bit over the years. My hair was tied back, and about the same length as his flaming hair that ran in back. We had the same facial shape, and since I no longer had bangs, I saw that we had the same widow's peak hairline, too.

My suit had also changed, since I obviously had to get a new one because of my growth spurt last year; mine was pure white with black gloves and a black DP insignia on top, and pure black with white boots on bottom. I mentally cringed; holy crap, I WAS turning into HIM! Even our fashion senses were conforming (except I hadnt sunken far enough into evil-villaindom to go for the cape; MAYBE a cloak like Clockwork's but not a cape).

After a moment, he looked me in the eyes and smirked. "Well," he drawled, his voice vibrating straight down to my groin. "Look who's all grown up now. And you HAVE grown, Danny...you're looking more and more like me each year, arent you?"

'...When did he learn hypnotim?' I absently wondered to myself. Three years ago, I'd've throttled his ass for suggesting that. Now, I can only focus on NOT leaning closer to him. Dan reached his other hand up to grab my face with strong fingers and turn it to look at it from different angles.

"How old are you now?" he asked. It took me a moment to register the question.

"...Seventeen," I replied. He made a thoughtful sound.

"Odd," he said softly. "I wasnt THIS filled out until I was twenty..." Um...whichever god happens to lord over this Ghost Zone? PLEASE say that the blush I felt wasnt visible. Amen? "You must be hard at work with your 'heroics'." He spat the last word out like it was something gross from my school's cafeteria.

"...Sorta?" What was WRONG with me? WHY was I cooperating with him? Well, if he hasnt tried to kill me yet, I guess I could be civil.

...The hell have I been smoking? ...Other than cigarettes, I mean.

"'Sorta'?" Dan repeated, arching a brow. He was quiet for a moment. "Ah...I see. Hero work isnt what it's cracked up to be, is it? I'm even willing to bet that no one but Sam, Tucker, and Jazz still know who you really are. Am I right?"

'How did he know?' I thought to myself. Still, I nodded. He made a thoughtful sound and let go of my face, smirking.

"You're pretty subdued," he commented. "Not at all like that little spit of fire I met last time. I guess it comes with age..." He let go of my suit and looked around. "...Where's that asshole Clockwork? I need to pay him back for shaking that damn Thermos everytime I talked."

Part of me wanted to laugh; Clockwork can really be evil when he wants to be. The other half felt protective for more or less the only real confedant I had. "...Meeting with the Observers," I said. He looked back at me, giving me another once-over.

"...What's wrong with you?" he asked bluntly. I blinked. "Why arent you fighting me?"

"Why arent you?" I asked back. Dan made a thoughtful sound and grinned, his sharp fangs glinting dangerously in the dim lighting of the tower.

"Now THAT'S the million-dollar question of the day, isnt it?"

Before I had time to react, he had punched me in the face. I cried out in pain and automatically summoned up a shield that he more than easily tore down, and was pinned to the floor by my wrists. I looked up at him looming over me like a predator about to eat his prey (I quietly shoved the innuendo thoughts out of my mind), and tried to lift my arms from their pinned locations. No dice. "You've gotten a LITTLE stronger," Dan commented absently. "But nothing really note-worthy..."

I snorted. "Jot this one down, then." Almost so slowly he didnt realize it at first, I let out my ice powers so his hands would freeze over, then when he looked over to see ice covering his hands, I shot my ice-rays out of my eyes at him before going intangible and sliding out from under him.

Dan's hair quickly melted the ice from his face, and green flames did the same to the ones on his hands. He sat up, scowling, and flexed his fingers. "...You're an ice elemental," he said pensively. "...Very strange...I'm a fire...makes so little sense..."

"Not really," I replied, crossing my arms. "You're part Plasmius, too, and HE'S the fire elemental." Dan rolled his eyes.

"Dont remind me," he muttered. He shook his hands. "...Damn, they're STILL numb..." I couldnt really help but let my inner asshole flourish a little.

"I know, I'm THAT awesome," I replied, pulling off Dan's 'greater-than-thou' stance and voice perfectly. Dan just stared at me. Then he burst out laughing.

"DAMN, you even SOUND like me now!" he laughed, shaking his head. He smirked and walked up to me, his stance unthreatening, so I did nothing. "...Did you know, dear Danny, that I'm able to read people like a book?"

The odd question threw me off a little. I blinked. "Oh?" I asked. Dan smirked and raised his hand to hold my face in his fingers again.

"Mmhm," he replied, nodding. "You act very much like me. Deny it if you want..."

"I'm not," I cut in. Dan silenced me with a quick clenching of his fingers.

"...But the fact remains that you ARE acting like me. That tells me that you are alone in this world. No one to talk to, except for that meddlesome Master of Time, that is, but let's not get into that..." His thumb gently brushed against my cheek. "You're also harboring bitter feelings toward people...my guess would be Sam and Tucker, correct?" I nodded; I quit denying things quite some time ago. It was less of a headache. I was about ready to nod and agree with anyone who made the connection between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom, even if they had an ecto-gun to my head. I just didnt care anymore. "...And you feel like you just dont give a damn about anything anymore..." ...Oh, he's good. I nodded, then jumped when he pulled me closer to him. "...We're exactly the same," he said softly, his red eyes glowing almost maliciously.

"Only you're evil," I added. "I'm just indifferent." Dan laughed and flicked his forked tongue over my cheek.

"One little incident with Plasmius can change that," he purred. I rolled my eyes.

"Like I want to be part fruit-loop," I muttered, trying like mad not to fidget with the sudden discomfort between my legs.

"...Ignoring that." Dan leaned just a little closer and froze. I froze. Time froze. No wait, that was just my insides. My bad. Dan pulled away slightly and looked down, and I backed up from him only to he stopped with both his hands on my shoulders. He grinned almost evilly. "...Well," he drawled, making a shiver run down my back. That was quickly becoming my favorite word of his, if he kept using that tone. "...It would seem that we have yet another thing in common..."

Without telling me what that 'thing' was-be it size or liking guys (rhyme)-he pulled me to him chest-to-chest and kissed me hard, his fang catching my lip. I let out a completely undignified squeak for someone of my vocal range and tried to pull away. His hands clenched tightly into my arms in warning as he slid his cold forked tongue into my mouth.

I should have been grossed out. I should have pulled away harder. I should have vomited right into his goddamned mouth.

Instead, I moaned, pulled him closer, and kissed him back.

Clockwork once confided in me that yes, there IS a Heaven and a Hell. I'm not sure if this counts as masturbation or homoeroticism, but either way, I'm sure I was going to Hell when I died. And I couldnt be assed to care.

Dan seemed surprised that I was kissing back, but if I knew him as well as I thought I did (and I'm SURE I do; he IS me, afterall), he wasnt going to complain anytime soon. If anything, he would take complete advantage of the situation. My guesses were not wrong in the least. Dan let go of my arms and reached down to grope at my ass. HARD. I let out a muffled cry into his mouth and felt him smile against my lips. Pervert. He didnt get that from ME, which told me all sorts of things about Vlad I didnt really want to know...

After a few moments of kissing and groping, Dan pulled away and snatched me up, throwing me unceremoniously over his shoulder. "The fuck...? What are you doing?" I said. Dan ignored me and flew around the tower from room to room before coming to a door and kicking it open and making a satisfied sound. "What...?"

Dan flew into the room and tossed me off of his shoulder and onto something soft. A bed. The hell? I looked around; it was an ENORMOUS bed with dark purple bedclothes and a large headboard with CW in the middle of a huge gear. I was in CLOCKWORK'S bed!

"I think I'll use this room and call it payback for him shaking the damn Thermos," Dan said, grinning pervertedly. He hovered over me for a moment before pushing me down on my back and straddling me, kissing me hard again. By this point, the horror of knowing I was making out and possibly losing my virginity on CLOCKWORK'S BED was gone, and all I could feel was lust. Pure lust. As Dan kissed me, he reached between us to unzip my suit and pull me out of it. "You STILL wear it HAZMAT style?" he asked, breaking back from the kiss.

I shrugged and lifted my hips so he could pull it all the way off and toss it somewhere. Underneath the suit, I was wearing a plain black muscle shirt and army-green cargo pants. I had figured some time ago that Dan went for the style Vlad was fond of-skintight to show off muscle to be proud of. And DAMN, did Dan have reason to be proud, from what I was feeling against my thigh. Dan tore my muscle shirt right off and threw the scraps to the side and began attacking my bare chest with his fangs.

And I let him. He gave me a particularly harsh nip on my left side, and my hands instinctively jerked to his head, and I found that his firey hair didnt burn. It was a strange sensation, fire licking at my hands but not burning. It was even solid enough for me to hold onto. Fascinating. The conundrum I was having over his hair dissapated when Dan bit into my shoulder hard. I hissed and clenced my fingers into the white flames. I could feel Dan's laughter from his chest pressed against mine, and he pulled back to grin at me, my ecto-blood dripping from his lips.

"You're enjoying this far more than I thought you would," he commented, reaching one hand up to swirl his finger into my wounded shoulder. I hissed again, but didnt jerk away.

"I'm alone in this world," I told him. "And when you're alone, you're the only person you can turn to." Dan blinked, then smirked and turned intangible and invisible. I felt him rustle around for a moment, and when he turned visible again, it was all I could do not to let my jaw drop like an idiot.

Dan. Was. A. GOD.

I could only make very educated guesses of his physique from how skintight his own suit was, but it was NOTHING compared to what truely lay underneath. I could see just how muscular he REALLY was, and fucking Zeus, Hercules, and Ares COMBINED couldnt compare to him. Dan noticed my staring and smirked. "Like what you see?" he asked vainly. Once more I must mention that I stopped all denial and lying to myself a long time ago. So I nodded. Dan made a growling sound in the back of his throat and shoved me onto my back and yanked my cargo pants down, eyeing me over almost appreciatively. "You're not half bad yourself, Danny-boy," he purred, running a hand down my chest. "Just a few more years, and you might look as godlike as me..."

I could only hope. I laid back and let Dan fondle my body as he saw fit, my mind split into two divisions. On the one side was my common sense, screaming at me to THINK about what I was doing; I was letting evil incarnate (myself, no less) use me for his own pleasure, knowing that he would probably kill me after this. On the other side was my recently-found logic; I was a half-ghost freak who was alone and would probably continue being alone, and that if Dan wanted to kill me, he would've done it by now. And besides, he was giving me pleasure, too. And I liked it. And God forbid I do something selfish for myself, so to speak.

Dan's tongue snaking over my neck dragged me from the C-SPAN session going on in my brain; I groaned and wrapped my arms around his neck, urging him to continue. I felt him laugh in his chest again, then he pulled back, his serpintine tongue sliding back into his mouth. "I take it you're still a virgin," he said bluntly, making a statement and not a question. I felt my cheeks warm slightly, but I nodded. Dan made a thoughtful sound, then roughly turned me onto my stomach and pulled me into a kneeling position. "Well, lucky you. You're going to lose your virginity to someone who knows your every hot spot...who knows what brings you pleasure..." He stroked his hand down the small of my back, and I felt a jolting shudder run up my spine. I could practically feel his smirk from behind me as he ran his hands on the insides of my thighs, the area between my shoulder blades and down my forearms; all places I didnt know were so sensitive.

He was right, I thought. He knew everything about me. My weak spots, my hot spots, where was sensitive, and where was uncomfortable. My first time with anyone else would be trial-and-error. With him...it was spot-on. My body practically melted under his ministrations, and I think he took that as a cue to get on with it. He spread my legs further apart and slid two of his fingers inside of me.

It didnt hurt as much as I thought it would have; only mild discomfort that was remedied by his gentle stroking of the small of my back. I panted and faught to keep myself up on my arms and knees, but it was hard; they were shaking badly. Why was he giving me so much pleasure? What about HIM? A part of my mind gave me the image of an implied facepalm. Fucking lingering hero-complex, thinking about others before myself. When I felt his fingers brush against something inside of me and I nearly jumped right off the bed, his reasons suddenly became clear (hey, he WAS me, afterall).

He was doing this for power. He had power over me when I was like this, and he knew it. He knew everything about me, and was using that to lord over me. The shaking in my arms got so bad I slumped forward. Dan bent over my body to kiss at my shoulder and laugh softly into my ear. "Didja like that, Danny-boy?" he purred, sending another shiver down my spine. I could only groan in reply. Dan laughed again and pulled his fingers out before pinning me down roughly and shoving his cock inside me with NO warning at all.

Yeah, I screamed. Fucking HELL, it HURT! I began calling Dan every name in the book as I struggled to get loose from his grip. No dice; he only laughed harder and kept me pinned as he began fucking me. Well, the newer, dry sarcastic part of my mind thought, you didnt expect him to play nice for long, did you? No, I didnt. It still didnt take any of the pain away from being screwed into Clockworks' bed by a murdering psychopath. Myself, nonetheless. Talk about screwing yourself over.

After awhile, Dan stopped pinning me down, but I still didnt attempt to get up. Call me fucked in the head, but I was comfortable, pleasured, and getting off on being used like this. This seemed to please Dan; he liked subserviance. I could tell he did. And I liked BEING subservient. Three years of thankless hero work, you're damn right feel like giving up the responsibility reins to let someone else do the work. Besides, Dan given me more pleasure in the past ten minutes than anyone else had (that includes you too, Sam) since I began developing hormones. I wasnt going to put a stop to THAT by struggling for control.

Dan suddenly pulled and and flipped me over to my back before shoving my legs up and pushing back in. I arched and hissed; hell, the fucking is good, but he's GOT to work on his entrance. Dan laughed softly at my discomfort (he was a sadist first, a lover second) and hooked my legs over his shoulders, his hands splayed on either side of my shoulders.

"You love it," he purred, keeping still. I squirmed around a little, just proving his point. He reached up and stroked my hair out of my face with gentleness, then scraped the tip of his fingernail into my cheek as though to compensate for the previous action that was so against his nature. "You want to know how I know?" He pulled out a little, then shoved back in HARD. I cried out in some pain, but mostly pleasure. Dan only smirked. "Because you're just like me." He moved his hips hard against me slowly but roughly. I wondered how he could talk so calmly and evenly during sex. "Clones have more uses than simply for fighting, you know..."

Though both the the usage of words and the pleasurable haze, it took me a moment to get what he was insinuating. I didnt know whether to categorize that under 'yikes' or 'ew'. But then again, I was being fucked by MYSELF FROM AN ALTERNATE FUTURE, and I categorized THAT as 'fuck yes, give me more!', so I really had no room to talk about Dans...er...preferences.

After a few moments, Dan suddenly leaned down and bit into my neck like a vampire, and even though I felt discomfort from having by legs contorted that high up from still being on Dan's shoulders, I felt a searing heat run from my wound and through my veins, creating a painful/pleasurable sensation all over my body. Without any warning from my half, I arched up sharply, contorting my body even more, and came hard.

I saw stars, sparks, and maybe a god or two, before coming back to reality. Dan had lowered my legs to around his waist, and was still going at it, not looking at all winded or tired, the lucky bastard. I laid back and let him, feeling like all the stress I had coming into the tower completely melted away.

I'm not sure how long exactly it continued like this, but I had six orgasms before Dan finally came inside of me and decided to make himself comfortable on top of me. He made a strange purring/growling sound deep in his chest, and he was nipping and licking at my lingering neck-and-shoulder wounds. It was a good thing that I didnt need to breathe in ghost form, because it seemed like Dan wouldnt be moving anytime soon. I wrapped my arms around his neck and shifted around to make myself comfortable underneath him.

"Quit moving," Dan suddenly growled into my ear. I obeyed (I had gotten comfortable, anyway), and suddenly became aware that Dan was STILL cumming inside of me. ...The FUCK? How could he compile several orgasms all into one, I thought. ...Then I thought it better that I DIDNT know. Upon thinking about it, I realized that I didnt WANT to know. I sighed contently and reached up to bury my hand in his firey hair; I honestly loved the way it felt. I loved the way HE felt; on me, inside of me, around me.

Well, hell...he WAS me. So I suppose it was only natural.

After the longest time, Dan finally sat up on his forearms and pulled out of me with a contented sigh of his own. He looked down at me and smirked. "So," he drawled, tracing my jawline with a sharp fingernail, "how was your first experience with glorified masturbation?" I mentally stored the fascinating description of what we'd just done in a file for later, and shifted my lower half for a moment; my back had started to ache up.

"...I liked it," I answered honestly. Dan's grin broadened, his expression positively vain.

"You should feel honored," he replied, his fingernail grazing over my lips. "Although you're technically me, you're the first person I've shared with myself...none of the other ghosts, or even humans, could keep up with me...not enough endurance..."

'Endurance?' I thought. I'd just laid there and taken it. ...Yeah, I got seven orgasms out of it and I was tired, but what did that have to do with 'endurance'?

Dan seemed to know what was going on in my mind; he DID tell me he could read people like books. "...Danny-boy, what's the root word of 'endurance'?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. Great. I'm out of school, and he's still pulling a Lancer.

"...'Endure'..." I muttered back. Dan smirked and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

"Smart boy." He rolled off of me and pulled the covers down and slid in. "...Damn, these are silk...! Meddlesome asshole actually has good taste. Who knew?" I ignored his anictodes and instead ignored the pain in the lower extremities of my body to crawl in next to him, turning over onto my stomach and snuggling into Clockwork's pillow. Silk felt REALLY good on my skin right now.

We laid separate from each other in silence for awhile before I spoke up. "...Does this count as narcissism?" I suddenly asked him. Dan arched a brow and looked at me, a faint smile on his lips.

"'A love of or great admiration for one's self'," he quoted like he was a dictionary. He paused. "...Tough call. I'd call it 'narcissexualism', simply because no one's good enough for me but myself. And I do so love myself..." I could almost taste the vanity that was pouring from his mouth right now, and couldnt help but roll my eyes.

"Really. I couldnt tell," I replied in monotone. I sighed and snuggled deeper into the pillow. ...Why did it smell like lavender and liliac?

Dan reached over and grabbed me, yanking me to his chest. "You're no better than I am," he growled, his eyes glowing softly. "You tried it with the slut Paulina. You tried it with Sam. And let's face it, you dont want to try it with anyone else because they're not good enough for you. You dont need them. You only need yourself!" His hands stroked between my shoulderblades, sending a jolt of pleasure down my spine. "...I figured that out on day one of my true birth. Sad you had to figure it out this far down the line."

"...Gee, just break my balls while you're at it, Dan," I muttered into his chest; his ministrations on my back after the God-knew-how-long of sex left me practically boneless.

"Dont tempt me." Dan kept stroking my back, no doubt using his own fire abilities to heat up his hands and lull me into total and utter complete submission. I grew sleepy and let my eyes drift shut. Hell, if he wanted me vulnerable so I could be an easy kill, then whatever. At least I'd be asleep and satisfied.

Normal POV

Clockwork drifted back into his tower, feeling the urge to do something evil like bring about Armegeddon...then reverse time and undo it, of course, but still. He DESPISED meetings with the Observers above all things else in his eternal existance. He sighed and flew into the viewing room and paused.

The shelves were in tatters, and there was a destroyed Thermos on the floor. Clockwork blinked, then focused his all-knowing gaze on Earth. ...Yep, still intact. Ghost Zone? ...Untouched. That only left his tower. He calmly drifted through the vast hallways of the tower and turned to the largest of the doors and looked inside. "...Of course," he sighed, his expression deadpan.

His bed was currently dominated by the most dangerous and murderous ghost since Pariah Dark and said ghost's halfa counterpart. Dan was on his back, one arm behind his head, as he slept (lightly, Clockwork knew; Dan never did get the hang of proper REM sleep). On his chest was Danny, who was in a much deeper sleep and snuggling into his evil counterpart. Dan's free arm was draped possessively over Danny's back, as though to both protect him and prevent him from leaving.

It was both endearing enough for Clockwork to wish he had a camera, and severely annoying that HIS BED had been practically baptized with Danny and Dan's sexual fluids. Joy. And HE was the one who had to clean it. But then again, it really came to no surprise.

Yeah, he was the Ghost of Time, but his sight was a bit wonky within the confines of his own tower. However, he had noticed young Daniel's melancholy antisocial demeanor quite some time ago, and was disturbingly reminded of Dan's own lifestyle. The only difference was, Dan had absolutely NO one to turn to but himself (quite literally, Clockwork had been almost scarred for life to see). Danny, on the other hand...well, Clockwork didnt keep the dangerous Dan around in the Thermos on his shelf for absolutely no reason. He'd always have a feeling that the psychopathic ghost would come in handy one of these days.

...He just didnt think that one of those days would end up IN HIS BED.

But young Daniel was content, having found an outlet for his loneliness and newfound narcissism, or 'glorified masturbation' as Dan called it. And Dan hadnt been so docile and satisfied in quite literally ages. So, two birds with one stone.


He flew over to the side of his bed and poked Dan in the shoulder with his Time Scepter until the other ghost peeked an eye open, looking less than happy to have been woken up. "...The hell do you want, asshole?" he growled, sounding more tired than he really looked. Clockwork gave him a blank look.

"...You out of my bed, for starters," he replied tersely. He tapped his thumb against the pole of his Scepter. "Did you enjoy yourself?" Dan gave him a cocky smirk.

"Yep," he drawled, his arm around Danny curling around his halfa counterpart more tightly. He gestured to the ominous stain on top of the bedcovers with his other hand. "...As you can plainly see."

Clockwork resisted the urge to call Dan something foul; not that the ghost would deserve it, it was just that Clockwork had more decorum than that. "...Yes, I do see," he replied dryly. "I see that you had better remember how to work a washing machine, unless you wish to return to a Thermos of my own design and trust me, it is MUCH smaller than the Fenon Thermos." Dan snorted and flipped him off. "...Your mannerisms are of the utmost impeccablity."

"Yeah, I'm that awesome," Dan preened. He suddenly froze. "...What do you mean, 'a new Thermos'...?"

"Exactly what I said," Clockwork replied, smirking. The ball was back in his court. "You have three options right now, Dan, and I would advise you to think before choosing." Dan let out an indignant sound and sat up, Danny sliding off of his chest and onto the bed with a soft 'thump', but still remaining dead asleep. Clockwork gave him a glare and held up his Scepter. "Dont make me use this," he warned. Dan glowered at him, and Clockwork continued. "First option: you go back into my Thermos until I...need you again." Dan's glowering intensified. "Second option: I erase you from the time/space line completely, like you never even existed." Dan's eye began to twitch. "Third option: you remain a good little demi-demon ghost as a GUEST in my tower with certain freedoms of MY choosing."

Dan was gaping at him as though he had just grown another head. Clockwork only stared at him patiently. He could wait while Dan made up his mind.

A few moments into the silence, Danny yawned in his sleep and turned over onto his side, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like 'Dan'. Both ghosts turned to stare at him, and Clockwork smirked.

"...If you're free," he said slyly, "you still get access to young Daniel for your, how did you put it? 'Glorified masterbation' sessions. I'm quite sure that your past self wouldnt object to more excursions."

"...Y'think?" Dan asked, sounding a little vain again. Clockwork's smirk broadened.

"I KNOW," he clairified in his 'more-knowledgable-than-thou' voice and giving Dan a pointed look. Dan actually looked pensieve for a moment.

"...Do I get terms of my own?" he finally asked the Time Master.

"Such as?"

"Unrestricted access to Danny-boy, for one. Also, I dont want to be holed up here like a fucking prisoner..."

"If you'll agree to MY terms, you'll have the Ghost Zone to roam about in," Clockwork replied.

"Human world?"

"HELL no."

"...Asshole." Clockwork ignored Dan's favorite insult for him. "...What are your terms?"

"No overlording, no maiming the other ghosts, no attempts at my unlife, and no destroying the Ghost Zone. Try to socialize." Dan growled at me. "Or not."

"And Danny-boy?" he asked, inclining his head to the oblivious halfa.

"He'll come to you, there's no doubt about that," Clockwork replied. "Believe me when I tell you that you will not be sexually deprived."

Dan was quiet for awhile longer. "...Can we still use your bed?"

"NO, YOU CANNOT USE MY BED!" Clockwork forced himself to calm down; he had SO few things of his very own, and even though he was benevolent and helpful to Danny, he did NOT want to share his bed. "...You may have another room all to yourself. Bed included. But not MINE."

"Selfish prick."


"ALRIGHT!" Dan huffed and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Asshole." Clockwork smirked.

"Nice to know we have an agreement. Now get out of my bed and clean the bedclothes."

"...What, now?"

"No time like the present."

"Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?"


"Fuck you."

Three Months Later...

I'm pretty sure that people were starting to notice my change in behavior. I mean, how couldnt they? I had gone from being a mopey, reclusive, sociopath with an emo complex who was barely scraping by with Cs and Ds in class to being more upbeat, slightly more sociable, and being able to focus better on my schoolwork. Hell, I was so chipper, Sam's new boyfriend practically hissed and cowered away from my sunny disposition (Sweet sarcasm: food for the soul). That's not to say I was all sunshine and giggles; no, I had also stopped 'not caring' about certain things, like how Dash (idiot failed two grades, pfft) wanted to beat me up again because he got a D in History. Ooooh, I put a stop to that right quick. His family's rich, they can fix his nose right.

Yes, my new 'disposition' was deemed creepy by most everyone; Mr. Lancer asked if I needed to talk to the school councilor after reading Edgar Allan Poe out loud for class, making them sound like they were the feel-good stories of the month instead of the wholly depressing dark masterpieces they were. I kept catching Mom and Dad staring at me like they were worried I would completely flip the lid at any given moment. Me and the folks were out shopping and had run into Vlad, and it wasnt my dad, but ME who invited him over for dinner. The poor halfa bastard looked as though Christmas had come early; I guess he thought I was 'coming around to the Dark Side'. ...Well, I WAS but not for HIM.

If only they knew that my happiness was coming from routinely getting laid.

Even the ghosts were staying away from me, but that...isnt really my fault. Skulker tried to get my pelt again, not knowing that I have a very evil, dark, sinister-and very possessive-side that doesnt like to see me touched...and...suffice to say, Skulker had to be rebuilt bolt by screw. Not that I'm complaining. No more hero work for me! Yay!

...These days, I think my sanity is slowly eating itself away as I spend more and more time with...myself. And I cant be assed to care. I've become less dependent on others for my happiness. I'm not lonely anymore. I need no one by myself. I desire no one but myself.

After all, I AM a narcissist.

Um...I started working on this sometime around seven pm...it's now six am. Damn my short attention span and my obsessive nature to finish something while on a Red Bull-induced high.

And that concludes my Danny Phantom Slash Stories list! I might write some more from the previous pairings, 'cause I already have more ideas...*yawn*...Until then, I hope you enjoy the end results of my insomnia.