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The Mistletoe Debate

Characters: Danny, Sam, Jeremy

Summary: It's time for someone to learn that goths and ghost boys should be handled with care.

For Laura. Happy Christmas!


Somewhere between saving the world and completing high school, Danny had developed an unlikely relationship with Pamela and Jeremy Manson.

They pulled some rather impressive strings to clear the kid's arrest record (it turns out that being arrested for busting Dash Baxter's jaw could be rather detrimental to Danny's future career options when the kid's main goals were either space or the police force), and in return Danny was more than happy to help out whenever they needed.

Shivering in his knitted Christmas sweater, Danny shifted from foot to foot on the Mansons' doorstep. "Where did she even get a flamethrower?" he breathed, staring at a flaming tree that lit up the frigid darkness.

"Uh, the shed?"

Danny shot a glare at the young man. "So, why is she torching the blasted tree?" he grumbled. "For your information, Sam loves nature. What in the Ghost Zone did you do?"

The sleek stranger raised a singed eyebrow. "You even talk like a ghost," he remarked with a sneer that made Danny want to blast him in the face.

Jeremy Manson chose that moment to intervene. "Daniel, this is Kyle. He's-"

"The son of your business partner, right? Sam mentioned you were having them over for dinner."

The blond nodded, straightening his back and tugging at a glinting cufflink. "Yes, that is correct."

"So what's with the fire?" Danny asked, holding up a hand when Kyle opened his mouth. "Jeremy called me here, so I'll have it from him, thanks."

"Samantha was fairly well-behaved, and even agreed to wear something that wasn't black. But Kyle here asked to see the greenhouse after our meal, and ran back inside with chunks burned out of his suit, screaming that our daughter lost the plot."

"Well, it's not the ghost hunting," Danny observed, pointing towards a figure beside the flaming foliage. "Look, that's a human weapon."

Turning to the man in the gently smoking suit, Danny crossed his arms over his chest with a frown. "Right, what'd you do?"

"Nothing!" Kyle exclaimed, holding up hands that were blistered and a lovely shade of cherry-red. "We were going to the greenhouse, and walked under a tree with mistletoe, so I tried to kiss her and she got really mad."

Closing his eyes, Danny took a deep breath before glaring at the man with newfound venom. "Did she say no?"

"Well, yeah, but there was mistletoe-"

Danny grabbed Kyle's shoulders, shoving him against the side of the house. "When a girl says no, she means no!" he growled. "What'd you do when she got upset?"

"Nothing!"

"She wouldn't be burning the tree if you backed off when you should have!"

"Gee," Kyle muttered, shoving Danny off him. "Keep your mitts to yourself, Phantom, I'm not a ghost or anything. I told her that so long as there was mistletoe, I wouldn't give up, no matter how hard to get she played. That's when she fetched the weapon!"

Clenching his hands into fists, Danny shoved them into his pockets and reminded himself that the only bad guys he was qualified to hit were already dead.

"My name's Danny," he spat, "and maybe if you treated her less like an object and more like a person, I wouldn't have to clean up your mess!"

As he stomped towards the fire, Danny's mouth curved into a smile as he heard Jeremy say "By the way, my daughter already has a boyfriend. Now, I believe that your parents are ready to go home."

Following the footprints in the snow, Danny wound his way towards the tree whilst successfully avoiding Pamela's various garden beds. As he neared the tree, the ghost boy grinned. "You know, when I asked if we could roast marshmallows and chestnuts over the fire tomorrow, I didn't quite mean like this."

Sam started before glaring at her boyfriend. "Well, you didn't factor in a pompous prat, either."

"No," the halfa agreed, slinging one arm around her shoulder while using his other hand to pry the flamethrower from her grasp.

Sam let go without a fight. "Why does every guy have to be a jerk as soon as they come by a bit of money?" she sighed. "They think the whole world belongs to them!"

Danny shrugged as best he could. "The poor ones can be real jerks as well," he reminded her.

Sniffing, Sam pressed her face into his shoulder. "Did I overdo it?"

"Nah. The only reason I didn't shoot him was because you'd already singed his stupid hair and ruined his stupid suit."

"I also burned his stupid, roaming hands," the goth giggled. "But now I get why you blasted Dash in the face last year."

"Mmm," Danny murmured, angling his head so that Sam's skull fitted in the hollow of his neck. "Well, he's going home now, so can I put out the tree before it spreads?"

Sniffing again, Sam wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket before nodding. "Did my dad seem angry?"

Tugging off his gloves, Danny held out his bare hands. With a whump, the tree was suddenly buried in a massive mound of snow. "Not at you," he assured her, "but I should probably apologise for being rude to his business partner's snooty son."

"Probably," Sam agreed as Danny replaced his gloves. "We wouldn't want my parents thinking that you're a delinquent now, would we?"

"What, like that's worse than being half ghost?"

"You're an idiot."

Danny grinned, pulling the girl close again as steam from the doused inferno rose beneath a gibbous moon. "Yeah, but I'm your idiot." Tilting his head forwards, the halfa pressed his mouth against hers for a handful of heartbeats. "Now, let's get you inside so I can go home. Dad'll be having a fit right about now because Santa won't come until we're all asleep."

Sam gasped in mock horror. "Oh, no! We wouldn't want that, now, would we?"

Chuckling, the teen took his girlfriend's hand. "He'd suck me into the thermos for sure," he joked, pressing another kiss to her cheek before starting back in the direction of the house, "but I think I can spare a few more minutes to spend in your company…"

Smirking, Sam pulled her hand away, shoving Danny into a snowdrift. "Go home, you dork."

The halfa shook his head with a grin, pulling her leg so that the girl fell beside him with a squeal.

"Merry Christmas, Sam," he whispered, lips barely brushing her forehead.

Smirking, she grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard on the mouth. They pulled away, breathing hard and sending little puffs of steam into the freezing air. "Merry Christmas, Ghost Boy."