It was night… New moon. Nothing but stars in the sky. Well, maybe a few clouds… He couldn't really remember.

His best friend was standing there, right next to the edge of the roof, looking off the end, down. They were at least ten stories up. He could see the multicolored lights from the street far below shining up on the flesh of his friend's face. It didn't reflect well off the black of his hazmat suit. His white hair, now, that was different…

He wasn't really comfortable about that hair back then. White hair reminded Tucker of old age… and death. There was white hair like what his grandfather had, and then there was whiiiite hair, almost bleach-white, like what his great-uncle had, when he visited his wake so many years ago, seeing him lying in his casket, his hair the color of fresh-fallen snow. Bright white. Stark white. Lifeless white. White like the flesh of something that froze to death. White like the eyes of a dead fish. That's what Danny Phantom's hair made him think of at the time.

And all these things Danny was doing, things he had to do in order to learn more about himself, about his new self, the self he became just a few days ago… Watching him do those things while he had the hair of a dead person didn't help much to settle Tucker's nerves in the least.

Danny turned and looked toward him, stepping away from the ledge. It was then that Tucker realized that he was backed up almost to the door that led to the stairs.

"You feeling okay?"

Tucker gripped his PDA tightly with both hands, sweat pouring from his palms. He didn't want to be here. Not so far up here… Not at night… Was it getting colder, or was it just him?

"I dunno… Can we just get this over with? I didn't bring a jacket."

Danny wouldn't have been able to tell if Tuck was really freezing or not. Ghosts couldn't discern temperature. They had figured that out just last Friday, when Danny was practicing phasing through the walls of his house and had walked right through the oven in the kitchen without even knowing it was on. Sam was freaking out, checking Danny for burns and melted hazmat material, but either he had gone through too fast for any damage to have been done, or he was impervious to heat and flame. Tuck shuddered when he thought of the test planned for later when Danny was going to find out whether he was or not.

Hopefully it wasn't going to be as reckless as this one…

"Dude, why a building? Why not… a cardboard box, or something? Or a dumpster? Or the hood of a car? Why a building?"

"Because, Tuck, I haven't figured out how to take off from the ground yet. And I already tried the cardboard box, and the dumpster, and the Fenton RV. I need something higher than all that. And since there aren't any cliffs nearby…"

He waved a hand in gesture toward the roof edge.

"I know I can do it, if I can just get enough air…"

"Are you absolutely sure you're supposed to be able to fly?"

"Tuck, since when have we seen a ghost that couldn't fly? All ghosts can fly. Or, at least, levitate… Same thing. I should be able to do it too. I just need practice."

"Dude… Your eyes are freaking me out again."

"…Sorry."

Danny turned away and looked toward the ledge. Tuck looked down at his PDA.

Jeez, those green eyes. He had been used to seeing only blue eyes in Danny's eye sockets for so long. He still had yet to get used to the green ones, especially when Danny got agitated and they started glowing as though they were radioactive. He shuddered again.

"Look, if it's too cold, we can just do this another time…"

"No, no… I'm… all right. You go ahead."

Suddenly, Danny took off in a hard run toward the ledge, his large boots kicking up the loose gravel cover of the rooftop. Tuck's heart almost froze in his chest. Just when his fingers were about to bust the clear panel on his PDA, he saw Danny suddenly give a small leap and drive his heels into the gravel, coming to a swift stop right at the roof edge. Danny paused for effect, then straightened up and looked over his shoulder, grinning.

"Psyche."

"Danny, you… Aaargh!"

"Sorry, sorry… Okay… I'm doing it for real this time, okay? But… I'm not gonna run off the edge. Watch me."

Tucker was straining every nerve to make himself watch Danny this time. Deciding that the only real bit of data he had to record was whether Danny succeeded or became a black and white splat on the sidewalk, he slid his PDA back into his pocket, afraid he might accidentally rip it in half once Danny went forth with the test.

His friend was standing on the ledge again, looking down at the street ten stories below, like an idiot. Tucker wanted to scream it right then, not to look down, but he held back, out of fear that he would inadvertently scare Danny off the ledge. The light shining up on Danny's face made the atmosphere even more tense. He was right there, right on the edge…

Why am I letting him do this? Tuck thought. Why am I letting my best-friend-since-I-don't-remember-when throw himself off a building? Why am I letting him put himself in a position where he could possibly get killed?

Because, it's only possible… Not absolute fact.

Danny wasn't human anymore. Therefore, he wasn't limited to human weaknesses. Where he would normally be trapped within barriers, he could just phase through them as though they were nothing. Where he would normally be seen and caught, he could pass by undetected, or disappear. He was also rather durable, for someone who was once so susceptible to cuts and scrapes; for all the attempts he made at controlling his intangibility the week before, trying to force-phase through a wall of the lab, he should have at the very least suffered a terrible concussion to the head, but he made it through the test without so much as a single bruise.

Tucker began to wonder what might really happen if he struck the pavement after falling ten stories… Do ghosts bounce?

Focusing his attention back on Danny, he gasped when he realized that both feet were now standing on the very edge of the brickwork.

All he could do for him now was to just bear witness.

Godspeed, buddy.

Danny stood up straight, turning his head up to look straight out in front of him, staring out into the night. Below him was only light and sound, and the occasional thermal coming up the building's front face. Above him, only stars, and the endless depths of space. In front of him, where he stood, shining from far off in the distance, down near the horizon, was a single star. Wait. No. Yes. No, it wasn't a planet. It was a star. Sirius. He was confused for a moment.

No, you idiot, don't look down.

He focused his attention on the star. Sirius. Dog-Star. The eternal guardian of the night sky stared right back at him with its single white eye.

Star light, star bright…

He shifted his right foot.

He could hear Tucker fidgeting behind him.

A car honked its horn as it roared past on the street below.

First star I see tonight…

A soft breeze tickled the skin on his face.

No, it wouldn't be the first star, but, whatever…

A memory of staring at the stars from his bedroom window as a kid entered his mind.

A memory of wanting to fly up to be among them…

I wish I may, I wish I might…

He suddenly began to wonder if the fact that it wasn't the first star made the whole thing null and void.

Ah, whatever!

Please have the wish…

He lifted his right foot, holding it straight out in front of him, toes pointed straight up. He held his arms straight against his sides, his hands balled into fists.

He closed his eyes.

…I wish tonight.

He leaned forward, and felt the breeze rush past him. The next second, gravity had pulled him from the ledge.

Tuck automatically dove forward.

"DANNY!"

Tucker's hands were on the brick ledge, then, fear gripped him. He fell to his knees against the gravel. Slowly, carefully, he inched his face over the ledge, looking down.

There were lights.

There were cars.

There was black asphalt street and gray cement sidewalk.

But no black and white splat…

WHHHHHHOOOOOOOMMM!

A sudden gust of wind sent him sprawling backwards onto the cold gravel.

"Aaaaagh!"

He lay where he fell, taken completely by surprise…

"Aaaahahahaha! Gotcha, Tuck!"

Something streaked by above him, blotting out the starlight for a split second.

He had gone invisible. He was invisible and he had flown past him—

He had flown?

He was flying…

Danny was flying!

Tuck rolled over and got up, staring up at the sky.

Danny had become visible again. He shot through the air, his green eyes bright with glee, his white hair waving behind him, a white comet racing the wind. A whooping, laughing comet. Tuck continued to watch, his heart freed from unnecessary worry, as Danny wheeled and dashed, twisted and sped forth, in a solitary dance amongst the stars.

In becoming one with the night, his friend had transformed into something more than just a ghost.

He was spirit itself.