CHAPTER 1

Field Trip

…

"Danny?" Sam whispered, leaning down against her desk and turning towards her boyfriend. The raven-haired boy simply muttered something unintelligible, but otherwise made no show of waking.

"Danny!" Sam hissed more urgently, reaching across the aisle to poke the halfa. His response was instantaneous. Danny shot up into a sitting position, whipping around to face Sam and lashing out to grab her wrist. Sam winced at his strong grip and Danny dropped her arm in shock.

"Mr. Fenton!"

Danny looked at Sam apologetically, who gave him a reassuring smile as he turned to face the front of the class.

"Yes, Mr. Lancer?" Danny responded like the dedicated student he wasn't.

"I hope you weren't just sleeping in my class, or else I'd have to give you another detention." Lancer's eyes narrowed at the groggy teen. He had known Danny Fenton for a brief stint in middle school when he worked as a substitute instead of a full time teacher. He hadn't been exceptionally smart, but he was adequately passing all his classes, pulling low B's. Lancer had expected similar behaviour when he met the boy as a freshman in high school a couple years later, but was severely disappointed. He barely managed to scrape up the handful of D's that kept him from failing, with the occasional C tossed in and a rare B that surprised everyone.

For the first year, he hoped Daniel would manage to pull himself together, bring his grades back up to what they had been before. But he hadn't. Sophomore year his grades improved a little, and now that he was a junior he managed to have almost straight C's, but Daniel still constantly missed class and got detention all the time.

"Of course I wasn't, sir. Detention won't be necessary." Danny beamed. It was a lie, obviously, but Lancer could see the heavy bags under his eyes and sighed.

"Then you should have no problem telling me what we'll be doing during spring break next week," Lancer said.

Danny glanced at Sam, then focused on her emotions.

"We're going on a trip," he said, eyes flicking towards Lancer without turning his head.

"Yes." Lancer nodded, looking surprised Danny got the answer right. "I've received permission from the school to take you to Europe as part of your history credit. Yes, Paulina?"

"Where will we be going? Because I already went to France for Christmas, and I don't feeling like going there again," Paulina whined, curling a strand of hair around her finger.

Only she would complain about going to Europe, Danny thought, rolling his eyes at Sam, who was thinking the same thing.

"And how is the trip being paid for? We haven't exactly raised funds for it," Valerie asked, not even bothering to raise her hand.

"The trip is being paid for by a family here in Amity Park that has roots in the country we'll be visiting. While there, we'll also stay at the family's local residence," Lancer explained.

"Where exactly are we going?" Sam suddenly asked, her wary tone not going unnoticed by her friends.

Lancer watched Sam knowingly while he said, "Lamia."

Sam groaned and dropped her head into her hands.

"Hey, isn't that…?" Tucker pointed at Sam. Danny nodded while the Goth continued to groan, giving his girlfriend a pitying look.

"But aren't you excited? I mean, that's where your parents are from!" Tucker exclaimed as quietly as he could.

"No, Tucker. It's a rich little county filled with thousands of rich little snobs like Paulina. It's definitely the last place I want to go," Sam muttered into her palms, sending a glare in Paulina's direction.

"Everyone take a permission slip, and bring it to me by the end of the week. If you don't get one signed, you don't get to go!" Lancer shouted above the chattering students as the final bell rang. As they filed out, everyone grabbed one of the blue slips. Danny was dejected to see a pink slip in Lancer's hand as he walked by, and took it obediently.

"I expect you to be back here within the next ten minutes," Lancer said.

Danny sighed and nodded before walking swiftly to his locker. Sam and Tucker were right behind him.

"I actually thought he was going to let you off the hook this time," Tucker said as Danny grabbed the homework he could do while stuck in Lancer's classroom.

"Of course he wouldn't, Tuck," Danny said, dropping his books into his backpack. "I'm pretty sure the man hates me."

"Oh, poor Danny, he has to sit in a classroom finishing up all the homework he's behind on, while we have to go fight ghosts since you can't." Sam smiled, running a hand through Danny's hair.

"I'd rather be with the ghosts," Danny muttered, slamming his locker. "What do you think? Should I just duplicate myself and leave a double with Lancer while we go have some fun?"

"I really hope I'm not being included in this 'fun' of yours," Tucker said, which earned him a sharp punch on the shoulder from Sam.

"Careful, Tuck. She got new steel-toes recently, and I'm pretty sure I spotted a wrist-ray under her sleeve." Danny chuckled. He pulled Sam's arm up and slipped back her long sleeve, revealing the aforementioned ray.

"That's not gonna scare me. Wrist-rays don't hurt humans," Tucker said stiffly.

"Oh, sure, it doesn't hurt. But that doesn't mean it won't sting like hell." Danny grinned at Tucker's horrified expression.

"I'm just…. Going to go now," Tucker said, slowly stepping away before turning and sprinting down the hallway. Sam and Danny broke down in fits of laughter as Tucker ran.

"Okay, but really, duplicate? Yes, no?" Danny asked, raising his hands as if weighing something.

"No. You really do need this time to finish your homework. Text me when you get out, and we can go patrolling," Sam said. She gave Danny a quick kiss on the cheek before walking away.

Danny turned away from his locker and headed back towards Lancer's classroom. Much like Lancer had been only half an hour before, Danny mused over how much he had changed in the past three years. He was a lot stronger now, and could maintain up to three duplicates during a fight. He knew Sam and Tucker could take on a lot of his weaker foes all on their own now, but he still found himself refusing to call them when a ghost attacked late at night like he used to. Their grades didn't need to take a hit like his.

When Danny started dating Sam last year, he abandoned his usual outfit of white t-shirts and jeans, opting for darker colours. While that could partially be blamed on Sam's Goth influence, Danny also thought it was appropriate when one considered the whole 'half-dead' thing. He, along with his friends, wore clothes that would cover the scars they received through ghost fighting. For Sam and Tucker, that luckily didn't require much change. For Danny, though, he hadn't worn a short-sleeved shirt in at least two years. But he didn't mind much. His ghost core kept him cool enough on hot days, so short sleeves weren't necessary.

Lancer was standing at his desk waiting for Danny when the halfa entered.

"Mr. Fenton," Lancer said, nodding to the desks. Danny dropped down into one of the chairs and pulled out an English assignment.

"Mr. Lancer." Danny nodded curtly in reply, smiling a little at Lancer's slight frown. He'd grown used to the vice-principal's disdain over the years, which saddened him. He liked the man in the middle school, but merely tolerated him now. Danny was used to people calling him stupid because of his low grades, but it annoyed him to no end when the teachers did too. From what he knew, teachers were supposed to encourage the students that did poorly, to help them do better. But it seems that everyone had given up on him.

Danny crossed out the sentence that he'd just written and started again, ignoring Lancer's watchful eye. But he wasn't focused on the essay. He was focused on the upcoming trip. He'd have to make arrangements with Dani so she could watch over Amity Park while he was gone. Danny was pretty sure Jazz had a break from college that week too, so she might be able to help out. Her ghost fighting skills had certainly improved since the days when she would suck Danny into the Fenton Thermos on accident.

He shuddered at the memory, feeling a momentary pang of pity for all the ghosts he locked up in there, sometimes for a days at a time, before returning them to the Ghost Zone. He couldn't deny that his foes' personal vendetta's had some ground, and was mildly justified.

But, by juvenile logic, they started it, so they deserved it. They did, of course, but Danny still unconsciously curled inward at the thought of being stuck in the thermos.

…

'See' you next time!