Sooo I noticed a distinct lack of DP/OHSHC stories, and most of the ones that do exist all feature Danny going to Ouran. Though I have nothing against any stories that fall under this category, really? C'mon, we all know Ouran doesn't grant scholarships easy, and we've seen Danny's grades (wince). HOWEVER; Sam is rich. Plus, Sam in a dress. Think of Sam finding the host club. Sam in the Black Magic club. Sam messing with the twins. Danny invisibly visiting Sam in the middle of class. Kyoya wondering why Sam's bag keeps floating. Now, for plot, stir in frootloops. Mainly one specific fruitloop. Now add an angry Danny. A very angry Danny. Let's look at some highly technical math:
Danny + frootloop = trouble
Sam + host club = chaos
fruitloop + Sam = angry Danny
frootloop + host club = insanity
Danny + Sam = lovey stuff
trouble + chaos = frootloop + (Sam + host club) + Danny = lovey insanity
lovey insanity = awesome story
The math is legit. You cannot deny the power of the math.
Disclaimer (this is for the entire story so I don't have to keep retyping it, so go away, lawsuits): I do not own Danny Phantom or OHSHC, but hey, you knew that already...or at least I hope you did
Chapter One : Obsession
—
Whenever people go traveling, there were always snags. The wrong plane tickets were bought. Someone forgot to pack something. Luggage was misplaced, or even lost. Flights were sometimes delayed. All issues, for the most part, tended to cause a few minor arguments between members of a traveling party. Airports were commonly known to be rushed, somewhat tense places.
For an entire family to have a screaming match halfway to the gate, though, was quite unusual.
Here is what happened, as several eyewitnesses later recalled; the family consisted of a father and mother, both blonde and smartly dressed. Rolling behind them on a scooter was an older woman with her gray hair up in a bun. Clearly the grandmother and family matriarch, she gave periodic glances toward the family's fourth, and youngest, member. She was dressed in dark colors that matched well with her equally depressing hair color. Despite her gothic appearance, the teenager seemed more angry than sullen, stomping after the other three with sparks practically flying from her eyes. Several times her head began to turn, combat boots veering off course, but a stern glance from the girl's grandmother kept her from bolting. Each time the youngest met the oldest's gaze, she sighed regretfully and shifted her pace to keep up, choosing to glare daggers at the cheerful adults leading the parade. Neither parent seemed to notice. In fact, they were brimming with barely suppressed glee.
Anyone onlooker knew it was only a matter of time before the bomb disguised at their complacent daughter would go off.
The first anyone heard was a sudden angry shout. It was the teenager, who refused to take another step. Her parents were a strange pair, responding to their daughter's negativity with blithely fanciful assumptions, only darkening the girl's mood further with every cheery smile. Their smiles were well practiced—her scowl was true to her own emotions.
Of course, it surprised no passerby that their argument began escalating in volume. Many felt it was so obvious in coming, they simply took out their assorted headphones and earbuds when both sides began shouting in earnest. It was almost fascinating to watch (while listening to a good tune); the blonde adults would take turns; one parent looked excited while the other chastised the teen. They switched roles frequently. Their daughter preferred to remain acrimonious. Eyes flashed in anger; gesticulations grew wild; spectators looked out the window with mild curiosity, wondering what would happen to the argument if their flight was delayed.
Just when airport security began to wonder if they should interfere (although no one seemed bothered, something really should be done to halt the family feud), the family's matriarch whacked all three with her umbrella. She spoke a few curt words to the adults before adding a kinder rebuke to her granddaughter. All three seemed ashamed, though the goth still remained tense. Her grandmother chuckled and spoke to her in a low, comforting voice. Slowly, the girl's shoulders sagged. Her head bowed. Was that grief? Or was she simply hiding her anger? Passerby weren't sure.
The airport's sound system crackled to life, announcing that the nearest gate was now loading. The family seemed to flinch in surprise. The teen, especially, seemed aghast. She picked up her suitcase rather slowly, gave her grandmother a kiss on the forehead, and stomped past her parents without a single word. She boarded the plane without her family. Her parents sighed, turning to leave, but the old woman hesitated, her eyes fixed on the gate with an almost knowing look gleaming from her age old eyes. She, at least, understood the teen's frustrations. If only they had bought more than one plane ticket...
The gate retracted, the doors closed, and after a few more minutes, the plane was racing down the runway, taking to the sky as easily as the ghosts who lived in their hometown. Whose existence was the sole reason the family's youngest member had been sent away.
Sighing, Ida motored back to her daughter and son in law. They both seemed satisfied.
"She'll be safe from those dangerous creatures now!" Pamela Manson declared.
"You betcha!" her husband, Jeramy, grinned. "And our Sammykins will have the best education the world can offer!"
Pamela frowned. "I can't understand why she wasn't thrilled. Ouran is ranked in the top five private schools worldwide! She even gets to wear a pretty dress!"
Ida raised her eyebrow and cleared her throat, making her presence known. "Perhaps my Sammy is upset because you quite literally sprang this on her today. She did not even have a chance to say goodbye to her friends, poor child! And Sammy hates dresses!"
Both blondes glanced at each other and shrugged. Ida sighed. It was going to be a lot quieter without her granddaughter around.
—
Meanwhile, the plane's flight attendants were trying not to set off a vicious-looking teenage girl. How did someone like this end up in first class? Surely she wasn't by herself...
"Um...can I offer you anything to drink, miss?"
"No thanks!" Sam spat, her eyes flashing with anger. The flight attendant scurried backwards and vanished behind the curtain leading to second class. Sam groaned.
"Now, there's no call to be so rude."
At once Sam's head snapped up. The voice had come from an elderly man sitting across the isle. He did not have a window seat, and neither did she, so it was painfully obvious he had seen the whole thing. Hissing inwardly and well aware of how much like a feral cat she was acting, Sam snarled, "It's none of your business."
He lifted his hands in surrender. "I wasn't meaning to pry, young lady. I was only attempting to make an observation." He raised a faintly amused eyebrow. "If it were me, I'd want someone to tell me."
Sam looked him over. Besides the crisp vest and polished shoes, he didn't seem like the kind of rich snobs she had been expecting to deal with in first class. In a weird way, she was reminded of Mr. Lancer. If that man ever became a grandfather, this guy here seemed to be an accurate prediction. Either way, he seemed all right for the person she would be stuck with for the next thirteen hours.
Sam stuck her hand out. "Samantha Manson. Call me Sam."
He took her hand in a warm, but strong grip. "Gregory Blaxton. I usually go by Greg."
Sam tried the name. "Greg." Feeling significantly calmer now that she had at least one person on friendly terms, Sam let her curiosity show. "So what's someone like you doing on a plane headed to Japan of all places?"
Greg smiled warmly. That right there convinced Sam—this guy was definitely a grandfather. "I work for the Blue Cross. There's a business meeting in Japan I'm heading to with another company that specifies in health. We're planning to pool our resources if a partnership can be arranged."
Sam nodded. "That sounds pretty cool."
Greg nodded. "It shall certainly be interesting. But prey tell, Sam—why are you here, by yourself no less?"
Inwardly pleased at the use of her nickname, Sam replied, "My parents are shipping me off to a boarding school." She frowned. "Some parents they are. I didn't even get to say goodbye to my friends. Wait, what am I talking about? Of course I didn't get a chance—they only told me about this this morning!"
She continued to rant, "The school has a dress code, which means I have to wear a dress! I freaking hate dresses! And my parents don't even care what I think, because I'm supposed to be cheerful, I'm supposed to be prissy, I'm supposed to be a dressed up doll for them to parade back and forth! But nooo, if I try to retain an ounce of individuality, they try to squash it like a bug! Who cares if Sam's an Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarian? Who cares if Sam likes Edgar Allan Poe over freaking Disney movies? Who cares if the only two people who truly understand her are probably waiting for me to show up at our favorite restaurant so we can all patr– play video games! Who cares, as long as Sam's forced into clothing I don't like, a school I want nothing to be a part of, not to mention I'm being flown off to a different entire freaking country! The only reason they're making me do this in the first place is because of the–"
Sam finally caught herself before she said "ghosts". Side glancing at Greg, she was surprised to see him looking rather amused.
"What?!" she snapped irritably. "I'm at the end of my fuse here, so don't go pushing it!"
The old man's smile grew. "Well, it sounds to me that your family was your biggest problem, and now you're given a chance to get away from them. Most kinds your age don't have opportunities like this, you know. I suggest you take it."
"But–"
"And if things don't work out," he continued, a twinkle in his eye. "You could always get yourself expelled. That would force your parents to bring you back home."
Whatever argument Sam felt seething deflated. Was he serious? She blinked, meeting his calm, friendly gaze. Whoa. He was.
"Did you seriously just advise me to ditch school if I didn't feel like it?" She had to make sure.
Greg's eyebrows shot up. "I believe that's what I heard. Did you hear something else?"
Note to self: never let this guy meet Danny. Not like that could happen, anyway. Somehow Sam knew that if Greg's and Danny's personalities were mixed, well...things would definitely get weird. Fast.
Speaking of Danny...
"Sorry to seem abrupt," Sam shook her head. "But I need to call some people and tell them what happened to me. They're probably freaking out by now..."
"Are these the 'only two people who truely understand you'?" Greg asked. "Go ahead."
Pulling out her cell phone, Sam nodded, distractedly hitting Tucker's speed dial. He picked up after the second ring.
"I hope you have a good excuse for not showing up! Danny and I could've used some advice from Chaos!"
"Tucker," Sam groaned, "are you ever going to let that go?"
"Nuh uh!"
"Is that Sam?" a distant voice asked.
"Yup. You two lovebirds wanna talk?"
"Give me that!" There was a sudden scuffle. After a moment Sam heard fast breathing. "Sam, where'd you go? No one was at your house, we thought a ghost–"
"Danny, I wasn't kidnapped!" Sam snapped. "Unless you count my parents shipping me off to a different country as kidnapping."
"WHAT?"
"Danny, what'd she say?"
"Hold on, I'll put it on speaker." He fumbled with Tucker's cell phone for a moment.
"Can you guys hear me now?"
"Yeah."
"Loud and clear. So why exactly are you leaving?"
"Sam's leaving?!"
The goth groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yes, Tucker. My parents are shipping me off to Japan, because apparently 'Amity just isn't safe anymore!'"
"Why'd they think that?" Danny asked, confused. "The city's crime rate is at an ultimate low–"
"And what caused the fall in crime rates?"
"...Oh."
"That's not fair!" Tucker exclaimed. "We're safer than ever, what with Danny having defeated Pariah Dark!"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Danny said dryly.
"You're welcome dude. My point is," Tucker took a deep breath, "there's no reason why Sam has to leave! We need to talk some sense into her parents!"
"Don't you think I've already tried that?" Sam hissed. "For pete's sake, they didn't tell me until this morning!"
"Ouch. That's harsh."
"Sam...why exactly are you going to Japan?" Danny asked.
Sitting back in her chair, the goth tried to recollect everything her parents boasted about the school. "There's some private school there that's ranked really high or something, so they decided to kill three birds with one stone and ship me off."
"Three stones?"
Grinning without any mirth, Sam muttered, "Keep me 'safe', better school, and...the school has uniforms. It's birds, by the way, not stones."
"So? That doesn't sound so bad. And I knew that."
"Girls are...well, they're required to wear dresses."
Silence on the other end of the line.
"If I hear you say one word–" Sam hissed.
Wild laughter cut her off.
"Sam! In a dress!" Tucker giggled madly. "If only I had a camera!"
"Shut up!"
"What's the problem?" Danny sniggered. "It's not like you'll be ugly or anything."
Tucker paused for a moment. "Y'know, you're actually really good-looking in a dress, Sam."
"Wait, what? How would you know that?"
"Danny, don't you remember Prom? And Dora?"
"Oh yeah. He's right Sam, you'll look fine in a dress."
"More than fine!" You could almost hear the mischievous smirk in Tucker's voice. "Just think about it...Sam, in a dress...on the other end of the world...surrounded by guys..."
The reaction was immediate. Danny let out an inhuman growl. "They'll have to go through me first!" he snarled, a possessive tone overlaying his otherwise passive voice.
Exasperated, Sam told her boyfriend, "Danny, calm down."
The half ghost growled again, but forced himself to take a deep breath. Tucker gulped.
"Dude, it was just a joke."
"The last one you'll ever make!"
"Guys!" Sam had to struggle to keep from yelling. She was on an airplane, after all. "If you don't stop right now, I'm hanging up!"
"Not until I kill Tucker!"
"Okay, okay, I give! AAAAAH!"
Sam heard the sound of feet thudding against the ground, the repetitive thumping quickly fading away. "What was that?"
"Tucker." Danny replied. "And before you start going at me, no, I didn't do anything, he was just being dramatic."
Shaking her head, Sam groaned, "You two only seem to get less mature with age.
"I'll take that as a compliment!" Danny paused. "Wait a minute. You're going to be gone for a long time."
"Well, yeah. That's how moving to a different country works." Sam crossed one arm, holding her phone up with her other hand. Suddenly her eyes widened. "Oh."
"What should I...we do?" Sam could almost hear her boyfriend shuffling his feet nervously. "I mean, it's okay, we can still call each other and–"
"Danny." Sam interrupted. "You'll hurt yourself."
His voice betrayed the wince he gave. "It's fine, Sam, the separation wont kill me. It never killed the fruitloop after all."
"Yeah, but Plasmius's was one-sided. You told me–"
"–without consent and or agreement from whatever a ghost is obsessing over, the obsession is not permanently part of a ghost's existence. Since Vlad never told mom, his obsession for her shifted onto me, and I refused him, so then it became ruling over other people, who all resisted. I wonder what it is now..."
"Focus, Danny."
"Right. Anyway, people are more difficult to obsess over, because objects don't have to give you permission."
"Yeah, I know that part. But when we figured out yours..."
Danny gave an embarrassed laugh. "Yeah. We thought it was protection at first. Y'know, it probably was, but almost no one wanted it, and I needed everyone to agree in order to satisfy that obsession. So it became..."
"Me."
Sam heard her boyfriend's reluctance through his words. "You didn't have to say yes, but you did it anyway. You might have been the very first person to be an official ghostly obsession."
"It was bothering you!" Sam retorted. "Agreeing helped stabilize–"
"I know, Sam. It also bound me to you, and vice versa. I still can't believe you were willing to sacrifice–"
"You dork, of course I am. I love you."
Silence.
Rolling her eyes, Sam switched her phone to her other ear. "Visit as much as you want to. Not need, want. I'd say wish, but Desire might try to pull something. Got it?"
After a few more seconds, Danny spluttered, "I– wh– yeah– b–"
"Good!" Sam glanced out the window. "I'd like to try and get some sleep; y'know, minimize the jet lag. I'll call you guys again once I reach my apartment. Sound good?"
"Y-yeah, sure Sam–you know, I could fly you..."
She snorted. "My parents bought a first class ticket. If I ditch it, they'll fly over themselves and strangle me."
"I can see that happening." Danny hesitated. "It's hard to imagine them being my parents, too," he added quietly.
Sam, who had closed her eyes, sat up abruptly. "What did you say?"
"Oh, nothing too important, Sammy. I'll let you try and get some sleep. Love you too, by the way." Click
Sam slowly lowered her phone. She stared at the screen, rereading the words "Call Disconnected" over and over and over again. A huge grin stretched across her face.
"I take it the conversation went well?" Greg asked politely.
Nodding, Sam put her phone down, lifting her head to face the old man. She felt like she was moving through molasses, yet had enough energy to drop kick the sun. "It was good," she croaked. "I'm just...gonna take a nap..."
He nodded sagely, lifting a small book from his lap and opening it to a previously marked page.
Sam had to tear her eyes away. She forced herself to lay the chair back. Pulling a purple hoodie from her carry-on bag to use as a blanket, she remembered those sweet words, whispered by that voice she knew almost as well as her own. Sam closed her eyes, a blissful smile on her face.
The rest of the flight was passed in silence.
