Disclaimer: If I owned Danny Phantom, you would know. Believe me. You would know.

Hello everyone!

I am pleased to announce that after almost a year of re-writting, I have finally finished re-writing this story! Which means, soon enough, this will be the only version available. I will be taking down the story "Tango: A Rewrite" because of the rules of THE MAN (didn't know you couldn't actually put the site name in your story... hmmm), before the second month of the new year, of 2015. It also means that FoxTrot, the sequel, will be up, re-written, and posted sometime in the new year. It is still up as the original, but it will change. Very much.

Please, enjoy this story at the very least. And thank you all for the wonderful support!

Warnings: Language, Abuse (Parental neglect), Violence, I guess kind of gender-bender?, AU

Summary: Daniella Fenton is a girl and a human. Daniel Phantom is a boy and a ghost. It is such a shame no one told them that, together, they shouldn't exist. Especially as one Halfa. And the world they have been forced into will change them.

The question is - For the better?

"WORD" - Normal speech.

:WORD: - Mind-Speak between Danni and Phantom

It Takes Two to Tango

:Do you think one day we'll be happy?: I ask.

:We have forever.: He said. :If we can't find happiness, then nobody shall be able to.:

-~DP~-

It was after school, on a Tuesday I think.

I honestly wouldn't know anymore.

The days all jumble together in a never ending blur. Monday's and Friday's only separate by my thought of - "Do I wake up tomorrow at noon or seven?"

Days of the week were isolated only by importance and numbers. Easter. The fourth. Test today on the 17th. Out of food the 6th.

Today held no significance. Simply was, like so many of the 365 days of the year were. A day. Filled with the usual drivel. Breakfast, school, lunch, the occasional being bullied, back home. Today with the actual bulling.

:He is an imbecile,: The voice inside my mind said.:An infidel. He should be bowing to you, not... not chasing your tail and treating you like trash.:

:I know, Phantom: I thought, uselessly, because when the voice of Danny Phantom gets going, it gets going. It was one of his more endearing qualities.

:No! You do not.: Phantom, he preferred that name seeing as we shared the same phonetically name, seethed. :He runs around town as if he is the alpha dog and he is not. Him thinking that is... is... is unacceptable.:

"Phantom." I said, rubbing a hand against my face with an exhausted twinge. "It happens."

:It should not.:

:I know.:

He saw that my usual weak points were not such today and went for another tactic, one he liked every much.

:We have the powers to make him pay for his-:

"I said no, Phantom."

The presence faded somewhat and I immediately felt sorry for snapping. He was just angry on my behalf. It wasn't like he was joining in on the taunting that I had endured for most of my teenage girl existence. He cared, where others had not.

"Phantom," I called softly, into thin air. No answer. "It's no big deal. Humans, Phantom. It's just what they do. Mostly the guy population, sure but – you should know this."

:Just because I was a guy once does not mean I understand neanderthal.:He retorted with a sniff, and I had the mental image of him, decked out in his dark, dark black suit and his ghost white hair pointing his nose clear into the air and sniffing daintily. He had the cheekbones to pull it off.

He had a grin to his voice as he retorted, :I saw that.:

I managed a small smile as I lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling pattered with glow-in-the-dark stars and moons. Towards the sky that was being blocked by the human invention to keep the rain at bay. Something that I was grateful of, but I kind of wanted to see the sun and the clouds right now.

:Danni,: My name, spoken with such care that it should be impossible for a ghost, let alone Phantom to make it sound so sincere. :This should not be normal. You are not merely a human anymore. We are... we are not human nor ghost anymore.:

:Oh yes, wise Phantom?: I chuckled sardonically, we'd had this conversation a few times. Never like this though. :Just because you and I share noggin space and have agreed to get along for the indefinite future - doesn't mean I am any less human than I was.:

Phantom scoffed.

:You have me. I bow to no one, except you. No human can boast that.:

Something warmed in my closed off heart, like it was known to do when Phantom said such things. A sweet heart was what he was.

To me, anyway.

:So I will not allow you that cursed title.:

He was so protective, it hadn't taken me long to figure out what his 'ghost obsession' as my parents liked it call it, was. Anything he considered his was good enough to be kept under lock and key, hugged and polished, kept safe. Coo'd at on occasion, too. Which had clued me in, when Phantom and I had first been tossed together, into understanding he meant me no harm. Well, at least, the voice inside my head didn't mean me ill, at the very least.

He also was prone to running away, but that was a protective measure in and of itself. If you didn't have the strength to protect it, then you ran with it. Simple logic. Even if the first few times he high-jacked my body and flew the scene faster than a speeding bullet, leaving me petrified that he would continue to do so even when we were not in danger.

Yet, he did not. He promised he would not. And I believed him.

Phantom knew of danger intimately. Mostly because the Ghost Zone, the home world of the ghosts, was a dangerous place. For those Marked, slightly safer. Since Phantom had managed to stay unMarked his entire existence – there was no one better than him to run away with.

I was glad, as a Halfa, we were exempt from the rules of Marking.

It was a brutish business I would rather not think of. Which made two unthinkable subjects. The accident and the Ghost King's Mark.

:Thank you,: I said, instead of just allowing the moment to pass, like I could have. I opened back up the connection we both had and allowed the sensory detail to come back. His thoughts and his mind opened up to me just like mine did in turn. Like hands clasping or a pen cap being slotted back to its' rightful place on the pen.

I breathed a sigh of relief that I had been holding in since I had shut Phantom out almost six hours ago. Phantom echoed the sentiment by snuggling up deeper inside out conjoined mind space. Inside our Core. Meeting me in the middle. Contentment, joy, and just plain Phantom all came rushing to greet me. Like a puppy.

He now felt just what I felt. And vice versa.

As scary as that was.

Having someone in your most intimate thoughts had been trying at first, but we had gotten better at it. We thought. Occasionally we snapped at each other and had our share of fits and fights, but those times were getting fewer and fewer in between. It was hard to stay angry at someone who knew exactly which buttons had been pressed and exactly how to apologize. The most I could manage now-a-days was denial.

Which was amusing to us both because even though we shared our minds so openly, two separate people stuck together forever, we still were only allowed one body at a time. Mine or Phantom's. Ghost or human. Heart beat or a being of cold, cold ecto-energy.

Thinking about our situation, and feeling much more calm and collected than a few moments ago, I looked at my hands. The femininity of them surprised me occasionally. When I basked so long in Phantom's mind that I forgot, however momentarily, that I wasn't in fact a guy. I was a girl. A young girl.

We were complete opposites.

I was a young woman; Phantom an old ghost with the body of a young man. I was aged fifteen, but felt so much older with Phantom's knowledge of the last century from his point of view in my head. He was very much an old man, but with my combined youth, didn't show it nearly as much. We'd been working on his slang and speech over the past few weeks. He still sounded like a man from the turn of the century, but was better at hiding it.

I was prone to bouts of complete attention deficit, able to be completely off track in a matter of minutes. He was collected and aware of everything at every moment of the day. With an almost photo-graphic memory.

We were night and day, and really, that helped us get along more than the actual being stuck together part.

But really, how did this all work? My mind always came back to this. Ever since the... accident. The one neither of us mentioned.

He was a ghost, and I was a girl – really did I not make it any more obvious than that?

Our relationship we had decided to develop was one of complete cohabitation. At first, I had wanted – and did – call it parasitic. Phantom was the one in my head, after all. It was all his fault that we had a problem in the first place. As time moved forward, I realized it was more of a symbiotic relationship. Give and take. We could use each others bodies, and it all depended upon who was the 'driver' at that time. I was more inclined to my own body, as he was with his own, but I had no qualms of actually being Phantom. He didn't much liking being a human, so there was that.

Really the only way I could describe it was that we had a closet of exactly two suits to wear, and with it came a personality for each. You couldn't wear both at the same time, so you had to settle for one or the other.

And that change, between bodies, happened within an eye blink. Phantom to me and back.

There was a crash downstairs and I shuttered my eyes. "Damn it."

My parents were out of the lab.

Hopefully they would stay in the kitchen, merely for food. Hunger keeping them away from their precious experiments.

:Do you think they just woke up one morning and decided to be complete ass-hats?: Phantom asked, pulling himself out of the warm cocoon of our minds and using the 'slang' I had taught him. He was very proud of himself when he did that.

"I think not," I said. "But I could be wrong."

:An act, perhaps?:

"Let's not go that far, Phantom, buddy old' pal." I snorted. "We both know they aren't that smart."

:It can not be possible to be that vapid and stunned in mental-growth without some kind of... I don't know... help, right?:

Phantom did have a point, even if I didn't know what vapid meant. He was still teaching me, too. Just like I was teaching him new 'words'.

"You've been dead and off the human plane for a long time, Phantom," I answered, without actually answering. "You've seen how much things have changed. Is it really so far fetched that they got this way all on their own?"

He hummed in his mental throat – making an awkward but interesting sound of understanding.

I heard the stairs creak and stiffened against the bedspread of rocket-ships. They wouldn't come upstairs, would they?

They never came upstairs.

I bolted upright as I waited and listened with baited breath.

Feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of them stepping foot into my room with me still inside it, I waited. And waited.

There were muffled voices, which meant they were yelling excitedly. Talking loudly. My heart got caught up in my throat and my eyes glanced towards the old oak outside the window. I could make it, if I jumped. I'd done it before. But the window would be open...

I heard the stairs creak again, more excited babbling.

My stomach churned like I had eaten bad fish.

:They must've created a new invention.:

Phantom said it like it was no big deal, while his thoughts tossed and turned like the sea. His emotions fell flat and snarled like an angry polar bear. Same as mine. Except I also was terrified. In the way a cornered mouse was.

The whole city of Amity Park thought my parents were crazy but good people with good intentions. Insane for them, instead of against them. Helpful. Weird, but harmless. With the ghost 'problem' we had, it wasn't a surprise the inventions they created and patented were so useful.

Which was one of the reasons why I hated them.

Even before Phantom had shown up in my life. A different reason for it, before he had gotten his ghostly paws on my mind – sure – but at least it wasn't a far jump from that.

The inventions my parents created were... horrible things.

They were things that looked harmless and everyday. They were cute and slapped with the tag of "Fenton". Al-a-mode as the city liked to say, behind closed doors. And the people, including my parents, who used the stupid horrible devices to trap, capture, or otherwise hurt ghosts – didn't understand that they were not harmless.

My parents could boast, every day, that the ghosts were not harmed. Only captured. Till they could be released into the ghost zone.

The Fenton Thermos, a device meant to capture ghosts until a time where they could be transported from soup-container to the ghost-portal was anything but nice. And it did not do it's function, correctly. In fact, it was the most fucked up mismarketing in the world. Because no ghost survived, mentally, any kind of time inside the contraption. Nor did they ever really leave it.

It was a one time deal. A one time death machine.

We, Phantom and I, felt it, too. When we were in close proximity to those that had been touched by the device, or the devices themselves. We felt the death-pangs. We felt the screams.

It grated against our very souls.

And there was such an easy fix to the pain caused. So easy it was laughable and so out of reach I had been sicked by the very thought of how in reach it was – but how no one would be able to touch it.

The solution? An apology.

There was a reason why Mediums and the like were so very much loved. They could see the hurt and they could heal it. They were humans who could touch on the ghost plan without actually leaving their own humanity behind. For ghosts, intention was everything. They just needed one person to apologize to them, personally.

Which was why I was not able to just apologize for the entirety for the human race and be done with it.

I was a Halfa, now. Half-human and half-ghost.

Ghosts didn't believe my sincerity. Humans just plain didn't listen – mostly because I did not tell them, I wasn't stupid. And no matter how much they both bitch about it - Ghosts and Humans were very much linked. You couldn't have one without the other.

Ghosts came from humans. Humans fed off the energy they gave off – subtly of course. The circle of life included us. All of us.

That was that.

The fact the nobody was listening and the medium population increasingly being called 'nut-jobs' and run out of town, meant that eventually the fallout could be catastrophic. With my parents inventions being created and handed out to the average day citizen like candy, and with the ghosts actually becoming enraged with the blatant fear-mongering – it wouldn't be long until something happened. Something snapped. Or someone.

Namely Pariah Dark. King of the Ghosts.

"They're coming up." I whispered as I heard the stairs creak even more, the steps they were taking coming faster even as they babbled. The words becoming clearer, but still incoherent.

Phantom wasted no time in egging me towards flight. Towards his form, to give over the reigns.

:Let's go.: He pleaded. My parents scared him more than he let on, even if he knew he could run much faster than they could chase.

"Way ahead of you."

And I was. Backpack was over by the door but I walked fast enough that my parents thundering up the stairs only managed three steps before I grabbed it and slung it over my shoulder with practiced ease from years of fast-paced running away.

"Danni!" My father, Jack.

"Ella!" Maddie.

I hurried faster, grabbing my cellphone and tossing it into the bag before getting the straps over my shoulders.

:Hurry.: Danny pushed. Way uncomfortable with my parents and all they were. Just like me.

"Oh sweetie! We've done it!"

"A cage!"

"You should see those despicable ghosts splat!"

"Despicable!"

I allowed the chilling transformation from me to Phantom come over me like a warm hug. I pushed the thought of what exactly they must have created to get Jack so excited he was merely repeating my mother. The echo of the ghost they had hurt was now swamping the house and I had to gasp to get any kind of air going – even thought Phantom's body didn't need to breath.

There was a little known fact – little known because it was solely myself and Phantom who felt the affects and didn't have anyone to talk to about it – that when ghosts are in pain they scream at such a high frequency that human can not hear it.

Other ghosts can, of course, but it is not a physically disabling thing. An annoyance.

Halfa's, or rather, just Phantom and I – hear it like a banshee squealing. Enough so that at close range – I've been known to lose consciousness.

Thank goodness the echo of the ghost was a little older than a few minutes – or else I might have succumbed to the pure fear-hate-scream that was currently bouncing around my house like a ping-pong ball.

My door crashed open, bashing the wall behind it.

"Danni! Oh, where could she be?"

I blinked as I looked at my parents, who had entered my room. They were looking around bewildered, straight through me.

Thank God. I sighed in relief. Phantom had turned us invisible. His quick thinking while my muddled mind had turned sour.

:You rock.:

He preened.

:I know.:

"I was sure I heard her..." Jack said, scratching his balding head and rubbing his enormous belly.

Maddie shrugged, noncommittally. "Must have been our imaginations... did she say she was going out?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then again, she doesn't tell us much anymore."

I never told them anything, at any time in my life. It wasn't a recent development.

:Was this worry?: I thought sardonically as they both stood in my room and pouted at each other. Some kind of slim device in Maddie's palm.

The mental exhaustion of disbelief as they actually tried to care for me, for once, blew through me like a puff of noxious gas.

They continued to call out for me. Stunning me into stillness. The repetition is nothing like I've ever heard. Never before had my name been said so many times in a minute. It was music to my ears. The kind that starts out soft and sweet and then slowly dribbles down the drain as you realize the lyrics are all about pain and hurting and unhappiness.

:We should go.: Phantom said. Urging me to move away.

:Just a second longer.:

It's a plead that comes out instead of simple words.

The chant of sentences staring my name wash over me, before finally the door shuts and the chorus is drowned in silence.

And to think, it only took my parents fourteen years to notice their youngest daughter is missing from their lives.

:I'm taking control.:

It was a warning. One that I had demanded Phantom make whenever he wanted control of our body. The same one I was to make, when the situation was reversed. I allowed him the body without much protest, becoming a simple mind in the back of his own, as limbs moved of their own accord.

:Let's fly.: I requested as Phantom lifted off the ground and hovered.

:It would be my pleasure.: He said.

And truly, it was.

We smiled, both of us at the same time, taking control at the same moment to lift the sides of mouth upwards. Even though I was fifteen, I'd never been kissed – but this was how I imagined it to feel.

Not that Phantom and I had any kind of inclination towards the voice in our own heads. But, the feeling of someone else against your own lips was... unique. It was shared in a way that most of my life had not been.

Narcissistic too, because I enjoyed it too much for it to be normal.

We were in the air the next second I started paying attention. Weightless. Gravity touching everything around us but leaving us be. Our hair whipped back and forth, and when it reached close to our eyes I saw the pure white had a touch of translucency to it. Signaling that we were invisible. We could see ourselves when invisible – no one else could though.

It was a nice perk, I thought.

No words needed to be exchanged. Phantom was as enamored with flying as a fish was in love with the water. I followed along like a piece of drift wood caught in a new world, soon to be part of the ocean. Phantom drifted like he knew everything about the wind and I clung on hoping one day to be as all knowing as him – already picking up on a few tricks of the trade.

:Park?: I said, amazed that my voice inside our head was not swept away with the wind.

:Sounds... pleasant.:

Phantom talk for "Must we?".

:I need to think, Phantom.:

:..All right.:

Phantom never liked the park. For a few reasons. The first being that he had died in one.

The fact that the park Phantom had died in was all the way in London, bulldozed over for an office building, had no weight on his feelings of the matter. The fact that his murder, a mugger who had been trying to steal from a pretty little lady that had dark hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, was dead - also had no hold on my partner-in-mind. The fact that that to-be-mugged-woman had allowed Phantom, when he had been naught but a scrawny boy, to lay in her lap as he died from a gunshot wound in her protection – had a little more hold on the situation. The only reason he even allowed the body to be driven anywhere near a park.

He still felt stifled and trapped at parks. All parks. Amusement. Forest. The word was the reminder.

:Thank you.: I said, sincerely.

He did not respond, simply continued flying, receiving his fix for the day. The wind embracing him in a way I hoped, perhaps, one day I would be able to.

As we continued at a pace that dazzled planes, Phantom reminds me of his obsession: Protection. It makes me want to groan, but I snuggle in deeper as I allow Phantom his mental rant. He is taking me to the park, after all, he deserves it.

:We really should leave, Danni,: He said, mimicking himself from days past. :Your parents are a danger to not only themselves and ghosts but us. They have no clue. NO CLUE! The kind of terror and absolute wrongness they will be bringing. This can not continue. It's either we stop them or we run, Danni. We need to protect ourselves.:

:I agree,: I said, also mimicking myself from days ago. :But I'm still only fifteen, Phantom.:

The "Where would I go?" unspoken, because Phantom doesn't quite get 'homes'. He liked the freedom of not having a place to return to. He was a loner. He had been for practically forever. His home was his own body.

:Age is just a number.: He boasted.

I sigh. :It is, but one that decides who the police hunt down if I go missing.:

:We'd leave a note. I'm not completely unreasonable.:

:And Sam and Tucker?:

He paused for only a second, he'd already thought of all my arguments.

:They are not in danger. Not like you or I.:

He has answers for every one of my questions. Like usual. Answers that speak to the part of my brain that touches his own on a regular basis – the part that picks up on his own obsession and is slowly integrating it into my own mind: Protect. Above all costs.

We must survive.

:Not yet, Phantom.: I said. Pushing my very mind into the present and only the present. :Please... Just a little while longer.:

:It's been three weeks,: Phantom responded. The truth is that it has been a month, but Phantom and I had taken a full week to simply accept the situation. :How much time do you need?:

:I don't know, Phantom,:

And I don't. Heartbreak and tearing yourself from all you know is hard.

We land in the park with silence blanketing us, like the snow that wouldn't be present for another four months. Phantom has backed off from my rather rational fear of leaving the city, and guided us over to a bench that overlooks the playground I grew up on. We allowed myself to come through, changing from Phantom to Danni, and sat on the bench.

I think over why I should stay and the numerous reasons flood me. If I turn the issue over, I know the oppositions has its reasons too. My mind supplies that I should stay because this is my home. Sam and Tucker are here. This is all I have ever known. School is here. I am only a child, in the grand scheme of things. The world outside this city is vast and huge and I am frightened of it, if I admit that to myself.

Phantom supplied, faster than my mind could quite snarl at – it's dangerous here. Your parents are awful horrible people. The city will be the death of us, if we do not get moving.

All valid points.

I look over the playground and remind myself of the memories of this place. Another reason I came here.

When I had been five, I had hid out at the playground for a week. Coming home for snacks and food, only. I slept in the park during that time, just to say I could. My underlying motive was hoping my parents would notice my disappearance. Instead of Jazz with her disapproving two-years-older-than-you glances, who had told me to stop but hadn't had the power to do anything about it.

I steeled my heart, because I couldn't have it breaking, and remembered that it had been I who had come back and started sleeping in my own bed – not my parents forcing me back. It had also been I, in the later years when my parents had become more and more forgetful, that smiled brightly at a stressed Jazz and fixed breakfast and dinner. Lunch was provided at school.

It had been me making up excuses for my parents about why they never had time for me. Except the usual disappointed glances when I received my report card, in hopes that perhaps getting bad grades would get them to at least raise their voices towards me. All I received for my failure was a lecture, spoken in even tones, about how I was to get better grades. Which I grudgingly did, only to be received with silence by my parents who thought C's were not that impressive.

And it wasn't that I was stupid. I knew all of the answers to the questions. I did fine on tests, if I was honest. It was that I couldn't always make it to classes. And attendance was a big thing.

But I would challenge anyone in those rooms to really understand my reasoning if they could only feel the despair that hung off of every nook and cranny of that school.

Trying to get my mind off the more depressing aspects of my life I searched for a part of the playground that didn't have some kind of negative hold on my life. My eyes fell on the sandbox and I felt my mouth twitch.

Sam and Tuck.

When I had been seven, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley had greeted me for the first time in that glorified litter box. I had seen them at school, but we had never been in the same class so we did not know each other well. We would be in classes for the next years together, but until then I had had not known them.

It was a day where as my parents worked relentlessly downstairs in the basement and Jazz refused to play with me; I had wondered off, alone. I had seen the two children playing in the sandbox and had wanted so very badly to know them – to have a friend. Their smiles to each other were childlike and I had been immediately jealous.

Then Sam had looked up and asked with a smile if I had wanted to come and join them building a defense against the 'dark one', it hadn't be hard to sit and throw sand for the next four hours. Grinning even as they were taken away by their mothers who both asked if I needed a ride home.

Such kindness really was so foreign that I had told them point blank I could walk. In the years that followed, they understood along with the fathers, that I was perhaps the most independent child in the city.

This was my only defense against running away. Against Phantom, I realized after the past month of fighting with him.

:This is a dead place.: Phantom said.

:It's all I have.: I replied.

:A month more.:

:If there is nothing new in a month?:

:We leave.:

I sat there, shaking as I realized just what I was agreeing too.

:A month,: I agreed. :But if we find even a small something... another month.:

:In the grand scheme of things, Danni, two months is hardly anything.:

This was his way of agreeing to my terms.

So we sat and watched the Amity Park park, trying to listen to the subtle nuances of the city. The city that was groaning with the weight of the world, in such a similar way to ourselves that I had to get up to feel it more fully against my skin.

The city feels sad. Streetlights were not as bright as they could have been, nor did they cover much of the park. The city sat very still. Rough and spindly like a plant trying to reach towards a light being blocked off by a much bigger oak tree. And it is a suffocating kind of feeling, that steals the air from my lungs as the ivy of the city tries to eat us alive.

The emotion of the city, if I could give it just one, would be depressed. From both humans and ghosts. The humans make themselves sad, but the ghosts – the screams that echo weakly – they are simply not strong enough to support themselves in an environment where the humans didn't care enough to fear, or hate, or... love.

The hot summer made everything a little worse, too. Somehow. Words couldn't express how.

And I realize, so many of those tonight, that I'm not just staying for me. I'm saying no to Phantom because this is the first time in as long as I can remember that there was a choice. A choice that I could choose wrong and only have myself to blame. Without it being life-or-death.

:Do you think one day we'll be happy?: I ask.

:We have forever.: He said. :If we can't find happiness, then nobody shall be able to.:

:What if I don't deserve it?: I asked, knowing that I had come from a broken house hold. People that came from those usually ended up right back in them.

Phantom didn't think so. :If anyone deserves a chance at some kind of ever-after, Danni, it's you.:

We shall not run tonight. That much is clear.

Tomorrow? No.

Two months from now? Perhaps.

But two months, when we had already survived one, didn't seem so long to wait.

The air was becoming more than suffocating and was now stilling. I grew claustrophobic in the large area as I stared at the doorway to the beautiful sky above me.

:Can you dance, Phantom?: I asked, already up and off the bench from trying to feel the city. Drink in the pain and misery into my own.

:I'm sure I could. It's been a long time since I have, though.:

:Try and dance we me then.: I challenged, setting up a pace to a tuneless song in my head.

Images of his life, before death, flashed behind my closed eyelids and he taught me – slowly but surely – how to dance his way.

There was no other person in front of me, but Phantom was using my limbs just as I was. We were not in sync, but we were of the same mind enough that where our feet ended up was somewhat coordinated. It started as a two-step, but I added in a twirl, and Phantom took control of the reigns to teach me a circle of motions. Soon, I was following along with him – limbs and all.

There was a flurry of activity from my feet that I could smell the dust rising. It was not fast though, it was even paced, but it was more than the ground had seen all night. I turned in circles, carefully avoiding all obstacles around me as I pretended that Phantom was in front of me, showing me his unique style of movement.

:It's called the Tango.: Phantom whispered as he led my feet in a new direction.

:Oh?: I said right back, breathless from the dance that had to have been going on for at least a few minutes.

:You need two for it.:

It seemed silly he would bring that up.

:I've got you.:

Phantom's emotions warmed against me. Pulled me in as he gave me what we affectionately called a 'mind-melt'. A kind of hug, but full soul. We turned from two in one to something a little weirder, one on one.

It takes two to tango, and so we did.

And we danced until I forgot that we would have a bittersweet future.

So, what did you think?

If anyone is a re-reader I would very much like your opinion on it.

Actually. Just any opinion really. :)

I LOVE REVIEWS!