Hello my wonderful readers! This story has been sitting on my computer for a while so I decided to finally post it. It's kind of sad because it's probably the longest oneshot/chapter/ect. that I've writen and posted. Ah well, it's here now, right? For anyone that as been waiting for the sequal to my pathetic attempt at a multi chapter fic I am really sorry. I just have no idea what to write about and what with school starting and swimming starting I've been stressed. And, well, procrastinating is quiet fun. Anyway, please R&R! As always, I am opened to ideas and suggestions.

Me: Oh, and readers, meet Steve. *points to Steve*

Steve: *waves*

Me: I guess he's sort of like my imaginary friend. Although, I really don't like to call him that. Let's go with OC. He will occasionally make an appearance in my stories as a joke. But never fear! He's cool. Sorta...

Steve: Hey!

Me: *ignores* Today he will be presenting you with the disclaimer... in song!

Steve: What? I don't want to sing! This wasn't in my comtract!

Me: You don't have a contract, I created you. But whatever, just say the disclaimer. We need to wrap this up.

Steve: *clears throat* The probability of Mad owning Danny Phantom is even lower than the probability of the show coming back on air with three new seasons.

Me: Fine, just ruin all of my dreams! *cries*

Steve: *is confused*

Clueless One to Goth One

A Danny Phantom short story set before "Phantom Planet."

Summary: Danny gets curious as to why he has to be Clueless1. Sam decides to tell – Um, "show" him.

(Danny'sPOV)

"I'll be there in a few minutes. Techno1 out."

"Affirmative, Clueless1 out."

The static of the walkie-talkie was the loudest thing in the Manson's personal theater as I let go of the button. Honestly, there was really no reason we were using walkie-talkies. Well, it could have something to do with the fact that Tucker and I had both gotten our cell phones taken away in punishment for staying out past curfew. Eh, who knows?

I turned to Sam. The Goth girl was sitting beside me on the couch. She wasn't really that far away, but still so far – Wait, I did not just think that. Right? Right. "You guys never told me why I'm Clueless1."

Sam glanced at me out of the corners of her eyes. She seemed flushed. Was she sick? She turned her body to face me, still really red. Funny, she didn't seem sick…

"Do you really want to know why?" She asked. She had a strange look in her eye. Sort of like the one she gets when she was faced with a problem or we were ghost hunting only… it was kind of different. It was like a mixture of fear, uncertainty, determination, and something else. But what was there to be afraid of? I almost started blushing at those thoughts. I hadn't realized that I paid so much attention to my best friend. Oh well, it doesn't mean anything, we are best friends, after all.

I noticed that Sam had started to stare at me in concern, causing me to really blush this time. I guess I had waited too long to answer her question. What were we talking about, again?

She leaned closer to me. "Do you really want to know?"

Um…..know what? Oh, she's wondering whether I want to know why I'm called Clueless1! Duh... Gee, Sam's really pretty when she gets impatient with me….

I shook my head to dislodge the thoughts. What am I thinking? Sam isn't pretty, she's Sam!

Oh man, she's giving me The Look again. (Yes, it deserves capital letters. It's The Look for goodness sake!) You know, the look that says she is partly amused, partly concerned, and party annoyed. Yeah, that Look. The Look that is quickly followed by The Look that says that if I don't quit acting stupid in, like, two seconds she's going to kick me where the sun don't shine.

"Danny?" She asked. Her forehead creased in concern.

"Uh…. Yeah, yeah, I wanna know," I mumbled stupidly.

Sam rolled her violet eyes. Her pretty violet eyes…. I mentally slapped myself. What's wrong with me tonight? And when was Tucker going to get here?

Sam bit her lip. "Well, if you're sure…" She began leaning forward, her eyes locked on mine. She seemed to be asking permission….but for what? She took my silence as a confirmation, and continued in her act of leaning forward. Then she was right there, like, two inches in front of my face. I was about to complain about personal space when her lips crushed into mine.

Wha'…? Oh.

Sam was kissing me.

After a few heartbeats of sitting there stunned I realized that Sam probably wanted me to kiss her back. I began moving my lips in a clumsy rhythm with hers. It didn't stay clumsy for long. Sam swung her body over so that instead of awkwardly sitting next to me she was straddling my waist. Her hands snaked around my neck to tangle in my messy black hair. For a moment I wondered at what to do with my hands before placing them on her hips. Somehow we managed to do all of this without our lips breaking contact. I marveled at how perfectly our lips meshed together, like it was meant to be.

After the longest sixty seconds of my life we broke apart, gasping for air. It was then, as I was looking at Sam with her bright and happy eyes and flushed cheeks, that I realized that I loved her. It really didn't surprise me much, once I realized it. Really, I should have figured that out a lot sooner. It was just so freakin' obvious once you think about it.

She pecked me on the lips softly before leaning in for a longer kiss. This one was a little rougher that the first. I'll spare you the details, if you please. I don't want you fan-fiction weirdoes knowing every aspect of my life. We fictional characters need some privacy, too.

"Does this mean you like me?" I asked when we broke apart the second time.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, and had a hopeless look on her face. "Danny, did anything that just happened give you any clue that I didn't like you?" When I shrugged she sighed in annoyance and went on, "I've loved you since the first day we met. Gosh, boys are hopeless."

I laughed as my insides soared with the knowledge that she loved me back. It was like a weight that I didn't know I had had been lifted with her words. "Wasn't that the first day of first grade when you shoved my face in the dirt for pulling on your pig-tail?"

Sam rolled her eyes again. I should probably tell her to not do that. Her eyes could get stuck like that.

"Pizza delivery for a Mr. and Mrs. Loveb –" Tucker stopped in the middle of his usual taunts when he saw that Sam was seriously violating my personal space. His jaw dropped (as did the pizza he was holding) and he did a double take. Although, it wasn't long before he was grinning like a fool.

"So you finally told him and you kissed? Yes! Nathan and Mikey owe me twenty bucks! And I think Lancer owes me thirty…" Tucker trailed off at the last sentence, looking deeply disturbed.

"You mean you knew, too." I questioned in disbelief.

"You were betting on us?" Sam asked in outrage.

Tucker ignored Sam and decided to answer my question instead. "Dude, half the city has known since about sixth grade that Sam has a crush on you."

Ah, yes, that clears things up nicely.