Six years ago today, DP got canceled. I was Danny's age at the time (so young! Where did the years go?) and pretty much devastated. I think I even cried. In tribute, I thought up a new story to commemorate this infamous anniversary.

I know I have 3 other stories going at the moment (well, one is almost done), but I needed a more light-hearted story to get my mind off of difficult grammar lessons (3-4 hours per day, not including homework!) and "Wanted" & "A Little Push" are too angsty for this purpose, so after rewatching "Micro Management," this is a short ficlet I came up with. It'll probably only be 2-3 chapters and not my best/most descriptive writing, but it keeps this writing machine oiled. Eh? As seen in my "Boys' Best Friends" oneshot, I really like interactions between Dash and Danny (non-slash, not a fan of it if the characters don't swing that way in canon). So, it's basically AU after the mouse in the Op Center part (in MM, Danny went up the cheese rope thing first, but I changed that here). Written in Danny's POV. Not perfectly in-character, but snarky Danny is always fun to write, so hopefully you won't be disappointed.

"You'll never be able to climb fast enough to save yourself!"

With the way things had been going for me today, I nearly agreed with Skulker on that one; I—we—were doomed.

I know I sounded crazy saying this, but I was climbing up a strand of cheese. Yes, cheese. From a pizza. Dash, also micro-sized (if I hear the word "puny" one more time, I might just let Skulker get to him after all), was currently an inch or two above me, trying to get to the top of the desk. I could feel my power draining every step of the way; soon it was taking all of my concentration just to keep my hair more or less white. Dash may indeed be a moron, but I think the hair thing would finally do me in if I were to revert back completely.

Just when I was practically at the top, my two biggest fears were simultaneously realized: the rest of me changed back and Skulker shot a knife through the cheese, slicing through it completely. The twenty inch fall was one of the most terrifying things to have happened in my life, as I was no longer accustomed to actually obeying...what was it called? Gravity? It's been so long since I've had to acknowledge its existence that I forgot what it was called for a brief moment.

I tried not to yell on my way down, knowing that Dash would look over the side and see his favorite punching bag crumpled on the ground instead of my ghost half. Only when I hit the ground did I unintentionally let out a gasp of sheer agony, but thankfully Skulker's laughter blocked most of it out.

"Hey, where'd you go?" I heard Dash say.

With no better options at the moment, I hid behind one of the desk legs and didn't respond. Dash was returning to the freak out mode that I had found quite hilarious earlier but now was a reflection of my own view of our hopeless situation. Here I was, Danny Fenton, on the ground, with no ghost powers and no other means of getting up to the Fenton Crammer or whatever the latest idiotic device was named. If I revealed myself, Dash would figure it out—even he wasn't that stupid—but if I stayed quiet, then who the heck would change me back to normal?

As if on cue, none other than my dad smashed through the door of the Op Center at the sound of Dash's frantic yelps for help.

"Hey! You're not a ghost."

Nice job, Dad. Like that wasn't the most obvious statement I've ever heard in my life.

"Change me back Mr. Fenton!" Dash pouted with an uncharacteristic display of respect for authority. I believe that's one of the first times I've ever heard Dash Baxter say "Fenton" without adding something nasty at the end. I made a mental note to bring the Crammer to school sometime. The look on Dash's face as I pull the weapon out of my locker would be utterly priceless.

"Where's the ghost boy?" Dash asked after my dad had changed him back to normal.

"Ghost boy?" my dad echoed, his voice getting that crazy edge to it, like a dog getting ready to fetch a tennis ball. Somewhere in the shadows near the refrigerator, I heard Skulker's cruel laughter. "He was in here?"

"He still is!" Dash said, having calmed down somewhat but still acting oddly, even for him. "He lost his powers and he's hiding in here somewhere."

I smacked my palm against my forehead. Thanks Dash. I save your butt and you thank me by telling a ghost hunter where to find a powerless ghost. Fantastic.

I crouched as low as I could against the wooden leg, my tiny heart pounding against my chest whenever one of their giant footsteps made the ground tremble. My dad nearly stepped on me at one point, until he decided to go back and grab a slice of pizza to keep him company while he and one of my worst enemies searched for the wrong me. My mind shot down every possible explanation, from "You hit both Phantom and Fenton!" to...well, that's it. I only had one plausible excuse and I struck it down at once. Whether or not Tucker was actually right about Dash's grades, a stellar D-minus GPA was still a step above total failure; Dash would be able to figure it out this time if they found me like this, right?

Apparently not.

"Hey..." Dash trailed off when he found my hiding spot and his panic was replaced with an evil glint in his eyes. "Well, well, Fentard. I didn't think you got shrunk too."

I winced, expecting the next thing out of his mouth to be a stunning accusation of me being Danny Phantom and whatnot.

Because the world evidently hates me, he instead tossed me in the side pocket on his shirt and whispered something about school being "interesting tomorrow."

"You find him?" my dad asked when Dash stood back up and faced him. Even from the pits of near-hell—it smelled like that in here, anyway—I could see him feigning innocence on his face.

"Nope. I'd stay and keep looking but…uh, my mom wants me to do my homework tonight," he lied, smirking down at little ol' me.

As expected, my dad didn't catch onto this, but what I hadn't been anticipating was him to go as far as saying, "Wow! I wish my son was as good a student as you."

Gosh, the hurt. Even with my 24/7/365 job of protecting the town, I did my best to maintain solid B-minuses and this was the thanks I got?

If I hadn't been so focused on reassuring myself that I was better than Dash Baxter in nearly everything aside from football, I might have listened to my common sense telling me to yell out for my dad before Dash exited the Op Center.

As much as I hated being in the Fenton Thermos, at least it smelled nicer and was more comfortable than being chucked from side to side in my pocket prison.

"Dash?" I hear Jazz's voice somewhere behind us. "Where are you going? Where's Danny?"

"Your brother or the ghost boy?"

Again, I slapped my palm against my face.

"Uhh..." Jazz hesitated for a second then went with Phantom.

Dash shrugged. "Somewhere in your big ship thing on the roof. Your dad's looking for him."

Muffling a shriek, Jazz raced up the stairs; my yells of "Jazz!" unheard by all except Dash.

"Let me go, Dash!" I shouted at him, wishing I could use at least one of my powers to get out of here. As it turned out, I don't do puny either.

Still smirking, he ignored my protests and sprinted out the door, taking me away from Fenton Works and destroying any last hopes of unshrinking myself.

Ooohhhh bummer. Still, I wish I had a Fenton Crammer. Reviews would be greatly appreciated :)