Lovebird Watching

by Frankie'N

Summary:With dangerous entities like ghosts constantly occupying the skies, the residents of Amity Park don't exactly have time for something as mundane as birdwatching. Lovebird watching, however, is a whole other story.

The Danny-Sam phenomenon told from the perspective of everyone around them. (And later told from their own perspectives)

A/N: After much tweaking, I present to you Chapter Two! Not sure if it was clear in the first chapter, but the overarching story does NOT follow the PP timeline. It follows all the way up to the episode before that, though. The rest of it is from my own wishful thinking.

Thank you for the reviews that are, as you know, food for aspiring writers. I've decided to reply publicly/on the chapters themselves because I'd like to share some of my answers with anyone who might be interested. :)

To LetteredViolet, SpacePortals, org 13 is best, Wrennie and Dday: Thank you so much, dears! Some of those compliments are too kind, and I'm not just saying that to be modest. Y'all are sweet.

To Kingpin: Thanks! I do have plans for some of those folks, but we'll have to see. ;)

To ImperfectisPerfect: Aww, thanks! And I definitely agree with you about Dash and Paulina!

To ShadowDragon357: Phew, that's a relief. I thought it might have been too uneventful. To be honest, one of the reasons I put Dash and Paulina's stories together is that I thought each would be too short or would not have enough substance to stand alone, but I just kept adding to it to make sure everything made sense and I didn't realize it ended up being that long, haha! I also feel like their parts kind of compliment each other, almost like two sides of the same aspect of Danny and Sam's story. So I wanted to put those together. Thanks and hope you stay tuned for more!

To A Vivid Reader: First of all, cool name. Second: cringe because of too much cheese, or...? lol and Third: Ding Ding Ding Yes! Here you go, Mr. Lancer's chapter! I thought about writing his story before and decided that for the flow I want to go with, his should be next.

To Invader Johnny: Thanks! That's what I was trying to go far when I wrote that. :) Now that you mention it, the possibilities are kind of endless. I won't be including everyone, but I will say that the characters you mentioned have a pretty good chance of showing up eventually!

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. Woe is me, etc.

additional note: I'm referring to him here as "Lancer" because a) we don't know his real first name for sure b) if I kept calling him by a first name that I made up it might not feel like you're reading about the Lancer we all know (and love?)


THE EDUCATOR: Mr. Lancer

It had taken Lancer a little over three years to discover the real reason behind Danny Fenton's supposed "rebellious streak."

And yes, he had felt rather guilty, truth be told, when he first sat down to contemplate this once-inconceivable reason and in doing so, forced himself to look back on the long string of after-school detentions and similar punishments that he himself had arranged for the boy. Danny had been dealt many a consequence for doing no less than risking his life everyday to save people who either didn't care about him, or didn't even know him. And somehow, with a maturity that Lancer didn't know he possessed, he accepted those consequences— albeit begrudgingly at times— because he had prioritized doing what he believed was right. And thank heavens the boy's moral compass usually pointed north, or Lancer didn't know where they'd all be today.

But gratefulness quickly morphed into guilt once again (doubled, now) as more memories washed over him— memories, this time, of all the instances in which he'd unfairly favored star athletes and other popular students over the unlikely town hero.

To be fair, at the time Lancer had still been under the misguided impression that the youngest Fenton was a mischievous, persistent rule-breaker with zero interest in school activities— be they academic or athletic. And, the teacher reasoned, perhaps it is true what they say about first impressions: they really do last. Young Danny Fenton had certainly started High School off on the wrong foot. He could still, as the old saying goes, remember that day like it was yesterday...

It was the first day of school and everything was going fine so far. The morning assembly went over surprisingly well— which, by High School standards, meant that it finished without any serious heckling, pranks, riots or ruckus of any kind. The first few periods of class had gone by without much disturbance, and now it was the middle of lunch break. Lancer was hoping for a miraculously peaceful, trouble-free first day of school. Ambitious, perhaps, but one could dream. He wanted to start the year right, and so far things were going his way— certainly a good omen for possible smooth sailing within the months to come.

Having finished his lunch early, Lancer decided to take a quick scan around the building, just to make sure things were in order. 11:35 in the morning and so far, so good— a new record, truly. Indeed, this year was beginning to show plenty of promise-

Lancer stopped abruptly in his tracks as his ears picked up the telltale sounds of an over-energetic teen crowd egging on a fight. The noise seemed to be coming from the school cafeteria. Whether it was a food fight, a brawl between groups of boys, or a simple tussle between two students, he couldn't be too sure from the sound alone. Sighing heavily as his good mood evaporated into thin air, Lancer dragged his feet over to the cafeteria doors and pushed them open.

True enough, a massive crowd of students seemed to be gathered around something. The room was filled with intermingled shouts of encouragement and indignation, which only served to fuel Lancer's annoyance. He elbowed his way past the crowd to get to the center of the commotion, scowling all the while. 'And the day had started out so well, too,' he thought to himself.

Upon finally reaching his destination, his eyes landed on an unusual sight: a scrawny, shaggy-haired boy with a look of fierce determination in his otherwise innocent eyes, face-to-face with a much larger boy sporting what appeared to be cafeteria food all over his hair and face, as well as a colorful pair of boxers— visible due to the fact that his pants were bunched in a heap at his ankles.

Before Lancer could process this fully, the first boy charged forward and clumsily tackled the second one to the ground.

"Lord of the Flies!" Lancer bellowed. "This is not the way to start off the school year, people!" He stalked over to the two students and reached for the smaller one, yanking him by the neck of his shirt. "You are coming with me, young man."

Lancer proceeded to drag him past the massive crowd of students. "What's your name, son?" He addressed the little ruffian as he continued to pull him along the hallways by the elbow.

"Umm…" the boy cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's Danny, sir," he mumbled, "Danny Fenton."

Fenton? This was Jasmine Fenton's younger brother? Lancer forced himself to swallow the bitter taste of disappointment that accompanied this new discovery. Jasmine was, by every definition of the word, a star pupil. One of Casper High's finest. When Lancer had gotten word that her brother would be entering High School, he'd hoped for the best. Now, it seemed that he had been asking the fates for far too much. Lancer was, of course, aware of who exactly the boy's parents were. Everyone knew about them. It only made sense that their son, at least, would act out in response to their strange profession. As it was, the couple was lucky enough to have gotten away with raising one normal (and actually quite exemplary) child.

"Well, Mr. Fenton," Lancer began as he dragged the boy into his office, "It looks like we're off to a bad start. First day of High School, first detention of your High School career. Let's make sure it's the last one, yes?"

"Yes, Mr. Lancer." Danny's shoulders slumped in defeat. He looked so pitiful that Lancer nearly withdrew his punishment. Alas, rules were rules.

Besides, that had most certainly not been the last time Danny Fenton served detention under Lancer's jurisdiction at Casper High. The boy slipped up so many times after that day that Lancer grew absolutely sure he'd been some sort of teenage delinquent rebelling due to his parents'… eccentricities. The assumption that his friends were delinquents cam naturally to him, as well. Tucker Foley more or less went wherever Danny Fenton went, and Samantha Manson embodied a multitude of traits that any teacher would automatically associate with troubled teenage rebellion.

He was completely floored on the day he and the rest of the world discovered the truth behind Danny's own eccentricities. But could you blame him? Never in a million years would he— or anyone else for that matter— have guessed that the reason behind the youngest Fenton's peculiar and problematic behavior was that he was the town's highly debated half-ghost hero. It certainly explained a lot of the shenanigans that often involved him. Lancer shook his head in sympathy as he recalled the boy's persistent pants-dropping dilemma back in his freshman year.

Yes, he had a lot to mull over as both a teacher and a vice principal. He was, in fact, reflecting on these matters in his office the very morning right after the Big Reveal, when he was suddenly interrupted by his first visit of the day.

At eight o' clock sharp, there was a panicked banging on his office door. Lancer barely had time to surface from his own thoughts before it swung open almost violently.

"Ah, Ms. Manson. I can't say I'm surprised."


Five Years Later (Present Day)

Let it not be said that Lancer wasn't a good brother.

In fact, this evening should hereby exempt him from any and all comments claiming that he isn't the most outstanding brother to ever walk the planet.

After all, how many older, middle-aged (ahem) men would agree to cover for their irresponsible, reckless, younger-by-twenty-years sibling's bartending shift of all things? The kid was pretty damn lucky Lancer still remembered how to throw most of the more popular cocktails together (a skill he'd somehow retained from his own youth.) And he was pretty damn lucky that Lancer actually obliged him. He was supposed to be an educator, a man of stature. What would he do if someone who knew him spotted him here? He sighed to himself as he wiped a newly-washed shot glass dry with a towel. Ah, well. At least he'd be in a position to catch students trying to get away with underage drinking.

He settled the glass down and was about to reach for another when something caught his eye.

Walking over to the bar was a tall, lean man with jet-black hair and bright, blue eyes— partially obscured by a large, black hooded jacket.

Well, I'll be. "Of all the gin joints in all the towns, in all the world, he walks into mine." Lancer couldn't help but announce dryly as Danny Fenton waltzed over to the bar.

The younger man stared at him with confused, disbelieving eyes— though they did sparkle with unrestrained mirth. "Casablanca," was all he said by way of greeting, acknowledging the quote as he took a seat on the bar stool located directly across him. Suddenly, Lancer felt as though they'd transported back to Danny's high school days; like he was tentatively addressing a particularly tricky question. Even now, his voice was tinged with mild surprise at knowing he'd provided the correct answer.

Lancer couldn't help but nod accordingly, oddly pleased with his former pupil. "I'll admit I never took you for a classics aficionado, Mr. Fenton."

Danny chuckled. "I'm not. I only know about that movie because of…" he trailed off at that, his trademark smile dropping almost instantly.

Ah. So he was here, of all nights, for a reason after all. Lancer decided not to press him to continue. Instead, he grabbed a scotch glass and poured the twenty-two year old a drink. "Saw the news. Big day tomorrow, hmm?"

Like a turtle retreating into its shell, Danny seemed to withdraw further into himself. He nodded numbly.

"Cold feet?"

As if on cue, the younger man suddenly flashed him a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "You don't know the half of it!" he joked, raising a leg to display his foot, which he then allowed to crystalize underneath a thick layer of ghostly ice.

Lancer frowned, unimpressed. He said nothing, but Danny seemed to have gotten the message, for he sighed and dropped the foot— as well as the act.

He was silent for a moment, and then, eyes glued to the table, he asked in a quiet voice: "You remember Sam?"

Lancer smiled a little at that. "Of course. It would be hard to forget a young lady that caused as much of a commotion as she so often did." He shook his head as he recalled the girl's numerous activist movements: stealing frogs from the Biology lab, changing the school cafeteria menu, arranging anti-animal cruelty protests— and later on, anti-ghost cruelty protests— right in front of the school… the list just went on and on. "She sure knew how to make a scene. Even if it was something as simple as sharing her liberal and rather… spirited opinions in class about my book assignments. But there's no denying she was a very bright girl— with a keen eye for literature, might I add." Lancer glanced at Danny after his little speech, and just as he'd hoped, the boy was now smiling fondly.

"That's Sam, alright," he breathed. Absently, he swirled the ice in his glass around for a bit until his smile faltered yet again. "She's always been too good for me."

Lancer regarded the young man before him thoughtfully before speaking. "Have I ever told you about the time I explained the details of your adjusted school regulations to Ms. Manson?"

Danny looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed, and shook his head.

Lancer smiled.


Five Years Ago

"Ah, Ms. Manson. I can't say I'm surprised."

"Mr. Lancer, please. We both know why I'm here." Samantha barely paused to take a breath before all her worries came tumbling out of her lips, non-stop. "I don't know if you're one of the people that knows Danny Phantom is a hero, but if you are then you've got to see how much Danny has to go through to keep everybody safe. Please, I don't know how the other teachers and students are gonna react but there's gotta be a way to give him some kind of protection and immunity from all the anti-ecto-people. Oh God, you're not one of them, are you? Please don't kick him out of school, Mr. Lancer! Danny's a hero, really, sometimes he just gets mind-controlled— I know that sounds crazy but it's the truth—"

"That's quite enough, Ms. Manson." Lancer interrupted her briskly, though not unkindly. "Rest assured, I have been deliberating over yesterday's events carefully. Luckily enough, I am a Phantom supporter. That boy has done more good for this town than our past ten mayors combined. Now, I can't guarantee protection from the judgement of students and other teachers who feel differently, but I will do everything in my power to ensure that he receives fair and equal treatment."

Samantha visibly deflated at that, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. "Okay. Thanks, Mr. Lancer." Although a great deal of worry appeared to be hanging about her still (it was evident in her posture), she nodded and turned to leave, but he stopped her.

"Wait just a minute there, Samantha-"

"It's Sam."

"- I have not yet relayed to you the details of what exactly I deemed fair. Please have a seat." He gestured to the chair positioned across his own, facing his desk— usually reserved for teachers who had a concern to raise (the concern raised often being that they wanted a raise), or students who had caused just enough trouble to warrant a punishment of his choosing. It was because of the latter, he assumed, that Samantha obliged him with careful, apprehensive movements.

She needn't have worried.

"I see now that these… ghost complications have been the cause of Daniel's… less than impressive grades, as well as his even less impressive tendency to sleep in class— not to mention his rather astounding record of tardies and absences. Which isn't to say that you and Mr. Foley haven't accumulated your fair share, as well."

The girl squirmed in her seat. She said nothing, only nodded.

"Well. Given the circumstances, I have decided to grant the three of you a little bit of… leeway in that department."

Her expressive eyes widened in shock, and he couldn't help but smile at her sagely. "I will no longer be monitoring and punishing your tardies and absences so closely. Time after regular school hours will be served whenever you miss a class, but it will no longer be used to detain you. I am willing to dedicate this time to tutor the three of you on anything you've missed during the lecture— or give you that time to work on your assignments and possible extra credit work, whichever you prefer. In addition to this, I will be extending deadlines for your class projects— provided you are able to prove that the reason for your delay is a ghost. Now, I am bestowing a great deal of trust on the three of you to be truthful, as recent events have convinced me that you are capable of acting responsibly. I expect you to live up to this. Do not prove me wrong. Understood?"

Samantha stared at him with her mouth agape, seemingly at a loss for words— a rarity, indeed, for the normally outspoken girl. After a few seconds, however, she composed herself, swallowing and nodding much more enthusiastically than before. "Yes. Understood. Wow." Finally, she broke into a grin. "Wait till I tell Danny. I- I mean… God, this is going to mean so much to him. Thank you, Mr. Lancer. Really."


Present Day

Danny smiled. "She told me about the new rules, but I didn't know she came bursting into your office like that." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not surprised, though."

"Neither was I," Lancer interjected smoothly. When Danny shot him a curious look, he elaborated. "She was always looking out for you."

Even as Danny allowed the tiniest of smiles to escape, his shoulders sagged. "I know," he whispered.

Lancer studied the dejected half-ghost for a moment before deciding to change tactics. "Well, it certainly is understandable that you're getting… cold feet. The two of you are rather young, after all. I could see why you might be thinking of putting all of this on hold. At your age you should be seeing different people, exploring, discovering who and what you like-"

"No! That's… of course that's not…. that's not it at all! I've never-" Danny paused abruptly, his head shooting up to glance at him. "Oh, I see what you're doing. I almost fell for it too! But it's not going to work. It might have worked in High School but it sure as hell isn't gonna work now. I know what you're doing!"

"And what, pray tell, is that?" Lancer folded his arms across his chest.

"Getting me to open up! Tell you about… about what's going on between me and Sam!"

"Isn't that what bartenders do?"

"That's another thing! What the hell are you doing, tending bars anyway?"

Lancer heaved an (arguably overdramatic) sigh. "I'm filling in for my younger brother. You may have heard of him. Er, Pyrotonix?" Lancer still cringed every time he had to say that ridiculous name out loud.

Danny's eyebrows shot up, as Lancer predicted they would. "Pyrotonix?" he echoed incredulously. "The DJ?"

He made a show of nodding grimly. "DJ on some nights, bartender on others, I'm afraid. Even as a bartender, he's gained some popularity."

"Right…" Danny eyed the teacher warily. "I think I read about him bartending in some magazine. But isn't his real name, umm…"

"Peter Thomas," Lancer supplied, and Danny nodded in recognition, although he still look confused at the obvious lack of Lancer in his name. "Yes. Thomas is my stepfather's surname. Peter and I share a mother, but she had me with her first husband, a long time ago." He laughed humorlessly at that. "My biological father was cruel to her, and we were both glad to be rid of him. She remarried more than twenty years later, and my brother was born. She adores my stepfather and their son— and so do I, but at times it does feel like with as much as she favors my stepfather over my biological one— a preference I certainly do not blame her for— she does, in effect, tend to favor my brother over me, as well. And even when he does impulsive, careless things like ask his much older brother to take over his shift so he can chase some girl he's convinced is the one— the third 'the one' of the month, mind you— I can never refuse him. Not when I know it will break my mother's heart."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck in an obvious nervous gesture. "Man, I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Lancer. I don't know how-" Suddenly, he dropped his hand and glared. "Oh, very nice! Alright, alright! You shared a bit and now I'm going to feel obligated to 'open up' too." He rubbed his hand across his face. "Well played, sir," he grumbled.

Lancer grinned. He still couldn't believe there was a time when he thought the boy was a bit dim. He was definitely smarter than he looked, and it was most apparent whenever he applied himself in battle. The few years after High School have only served to sharpen his mind, it seemed. "Well, Daniel- Danny, you can start with telling me what you're doing all alone at a bar the night before your wedding. Having second thoughts about your bride?"

Predictably, Danny shook his head, keeping his eyes glued to his now-empty glass of whiskey. "No, it's not like that at all. I know I'm young, but I've pretty much known I've wanted to marry Sam for… for years. Since I was a boy, really." He shook his head again, but this time it was in wistful fondness, if the smile on his face was any indication. "The adults would tease us even when we were kids. They'd talk about how cute we looked together and they'd ask me if I wanted to marry her when I grow up. For the longest time, I kind of reacted the same way: 'Eugh, no way! That's gross. We're friends.' And when I was a teenager my answer was… well, pretty much the same, only less childish— and definitely way more panicked." He laughed at the memory, and Lancer couldn't help but chuckle along with him. "I guess… deep down, I always kind of knew I'd one day ask her to marry me. And that's why I would freak out so much every time someone asked me that question… every time I even thought about liking her. I mean, what kind of kid is ready to think about that kinda stuff? Crushing on other girls was good and normal and safe. Crushing on Sam scared the hell out of me when I was younger."

Lancer hummed in contemplation, and although he knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, he asked it anyway, knowing it would help clear Danny's head. "Perhaps that's it, then? You're aware of how big a deal this is, and so you are feeling reluctant? As I mentioned, Daniel, you are both quite young still. There's no reason to rush into things-"

"No, no, no." He was back to shaking his head. "I was scared of all that when I was a kid. For a couple of years now, every time someone joked about 'popping the question' I'd happily tell them 'in time.' I've been waiting for an acceptable age to ask her to marry me for a while now. Maybe that sounds crazy. I know we're just kids to you, Mr. Lancer but… see, we do have a reason to rush into things.

Sam and I live dangerous lives. And we just don't want to have any… regrets." His voice grew small as he uttered the last word, and he closed his eyes. "But that's…. that's also why I'm having doubts. There's no denying that just being with me— being so closely associated with me— is taking a huge risk. I have a lot of enemies, and they all know my greatest weakness. I just… I don't want to put her through that, forever." He sighed with all the weight of a man carrying the entire world on his shoulders. "I just want her to be safe."

Lancer allowed his words to sink in as he silently refilled Danny's drink. The younger man muttered a polite "thank you" before automatically taking a sip from it. "I may not know much about Samantha," Lancer pointed out, "but I do know that she wouldn't be too pleased to hear you saying anything remotely close to an implication that she can't take care of herself."

Danny sighed again. "She wasn't. We had a big fight about it earlier and… well, that's how I ended up here."

The teacher nodded thoughtfully at this unsurprising news. The pieces were beginning to fit together. Instead of addressing this directly, he said: "She certainly is a tough girl."

Danny smiled in spite of himself. "The toughest."

"Then perhaps she is the best match for you," he probed further. "Few women would be able to keep up with your… lifestyle the way she does."

Danny's smile faded and he pursed his lips together in a grim line. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. "You don't understand," he said, and for the first time Lancer could hear the absolute anguish in his voice. "I know there's no one better for me than her. And I don't want anyone else. It's Sam or no one at all. Don't you see? It's not about her. It's me. I can't be with anyone because I'm a walking hazard. Ever since we got engaged, ghost kings and hoodlums have been kidnapping her left and right, trying to get her to be their human bride before the halfa can beat them to it."

Lancer watched as the boy— for although he was a man now in many ways, he looked entirely too small and vulnerable in that moment— Lancer watched as he covered his face with his hands in complete and utter agony and, not for the first time, his heart went out to him. No boy should ever have to make the decisions Danny had to make; or risk their own neck so frequently it becomes a way of life. And yet here he was, stepping up to the plate, taking the high road, and embodying with great power comes great responsibility better than men far older and wiser than he; better than any other man Lancer had ever met.

"Danny… I believe I wasn't quite finished with my little trip down memory lane."

He raised a questioning eyebrow at him— a gesture that, now that Lancer thought about it, he'd likely picked up from his fiancé.

"After we discussed your new school provisions, I asked her something that had been… plaguing me ever since I— and the rest of the world— discovered your secret."


Five Years Ago, Back in Lancer's Office

"Ms. Manson, if you don't mind me asking… there's something I have been wondering about. Would you happen to remember a certain incident that occurred on your first day of High School?"

Samantha seemed to realize what he was referring to, for she reacted immediately, if not strangely— Lancer didn't expect her to flush with what appeared to be shame.

"I caught Danny that day attacking Dash Baxter," he clarified anyway. "But now that I have had a chance to stop and think about it— especially in light of recent events— it seems rather… out of character for him."

"Yes," she answered in a small voice. "Yes, I remember."

"Good. Now I know I am perhaps three years too late to be asking this, and I hope you'll forgive me for the delay, but perhaps you could provide some context?"

Sam threaded her fingers together and positioned them on her lap. Although she seemed to retreat back into reluctance, she proceeded to paint the picture for him.

Danny, Tucker and Sam were looking for a table in the cafeteria, lunch trays in hand. It was their very first day of High School, back when Danny hadn't gotten his powers yet and all they had to worry about were class assignments, video game scores, and generally fitting in with the rest of their peers. Well, except for Sam— she never cared much about what the other kids thought of her. It was a good thing, too, because she had been subject to a lot of teasing ever since she was a little girl— having boys as your only friends will do that for you. A girl hanging out with two boys all the time was just plain weird and kind of lame. Not to mention the fact that this prompted a lot of the kids to jokingly call her Danny's girlfriend. At this point in time, the only thing that left Tucker out of that type of teasing was the fact that he'd been hitting on every girl in their year since middle school. Come to think of it, this was the day the kids started calling Sam and Danny lovebirds for an entirely different reason.

Tucker and Sam were in the middle of one of their more tame meat-versus-veggies debates when none other than Dash Baxter decided to disturb their peace.

"Well, well. Look who didn't hit their growth spurt last summer! Ready for four more years of me kicking your butts?"

Sam scowled at him. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size, Baxter?"

Dash tilted his head to address her, honing in on his new target. "Manson. Still a freak, huh? Can't believe your parents let you out of the house looking like that. They're either complete freaks like you, or embarrassed as heck to have you for a kid."

Sam froze in her tracks, completely stunned that Dash had gone straight for the jugular. It was almost as if he knew that the topic was a sensitive one for her.

Danny, of course, did know for a fact that this was a touchy subject, and immediately stepped forward to defend his friend. "That's enough, Dash. Leave her alone."

But the bully only smirked down at Danny, clearly amused. "Wow, Manson. You've trained this one well. Probably scared these two wimps into hanging out with you, huh? No way these geeks would stick around with someone as freaky as you unless you scared them into it!" He laughed at his own presumed cleverness. "Not even the school's biggest losers would wanna be buddies with you for real. Guess nobody likes you, Manson. Not even your two only friends."

The succeeding events unfolded way too quickly after that. Faster than Sam could blink, Danny smashed his entire lunch tray right into Dash's face, shoving clumps of gravy, mashed potatoes, and mystery meat into his eyes and up his nose. He used Dash's temporary shock (and blindness) to his advantage, swiftly reaching for the waistband of the jock's jeans and yanking them down, exposing his colorful teddy bear boxers to everyone who was watching— everyone being almost the entire student body. And before Sam could so much as yell 'Danny, don't!' he lunged headfirst for the larger boy, skull colliding painfully with stomach. Danny wound his arms around Dash's midsection and used his entire weight to tackle him to the ground, the pants at his ankles hindering Dash from doing anything other than toppling over.

It was at that exact moment that Lancer happened to walk in.


Present Day

It was Danny's turn to flush scarlet, and it made him— all six feet of him— look suddenly boyish in an entirely different way, much to Lancer's amusement. "Oh, right. I almost forgot about that. I guess I kinda lost it back then."

Lancer only smiled. "The fact that you forgot about it proves how natural it is for you to protect her."

"Maybe… but I don't see how this has anything to do with my problem now. I've always been protective of Sam."

Once again, Lancer studied the dark-haired boy sitting forlornly across from him, and was, once again, overcome with a strange mix of sympathy and awe. He pitied him; at such a young age he was forced to think of sacrificing his own happiness for the safety of one girl. But he was also amazed at him. So young, indeed, and yet so strangely capable of love in ways he'd never witnessed in any other man. It was clear that Danny had cared deeply for her even at a very young age. Lancer wondered what that was like— to find your true love as a mere child. Looking at Danny now, he supposed it was both a blessing and a curse.

"Exactly. She's always looked out for you, just as you've always looked out for her. You'll both be fine."

Danny was silent for a while as he tapped his fingers against the countertop. "It was worth it."

"Pardon?"

"It was worth it. I embarrassed Dash pretty bad that day, and I know that's why he liked to pick on me the most. For years. And I also know that's probably why you thought I was some kind of delinquent kid, Mr. Lancer." His eyes shot up and Lancer swore the kid was fighting back a smile. "And I know Sam probably feels guilty about the whole thing. But it was worth it because he never rounded on her like that again. And besides…" Danny's voice was suddenly dripping with venom, using a tone Lancer had never heard from him before. "Sam didn't tell you this, but she was actually about to cry. That asshole… Sam never cries."

Danny scowled into his once-again-empty glass, no doubt recalling the incident and the thoughtless words Dash Baxter had thrown at the girl that day.

"Perhaps," Lancer began, purposefully cutting Danny's brooding short, "it had nothing to do with what Dash or any of his friends thought. I believe it was the thought of not having you that upset her so."

Danny said nothing, but his eyes softened, and his lips were no longer pulled downwards into an angry frown. He seemed to be digesting Lancer's words; slowly, but surely.

"Do you want to know what I think?" Lancer continued. "I think… being with you simply makes her happy. Don't you want her to be happy?"

Danny, for all the cluelessness he may have retained regarding the young woman in question and how deeply her feelings for him ran, seemed to understand that this was a rhetorical question. He remained silent as he stared at the countertop, clearly deep in thought.

That is, until the sound of a voice, slightly familiar to Lancer, but certainly, completely and absolutely familiar to Danny, broke their little bubble of silence.

"Danny?"

"Sam!" Danny leapt off his bar stool at once, forgetting all pretense of disguise at the sight of her as he allowed the hood of his jacket to slip over his head and reveal his face.

Samantha was standing before him, clad in casual, civilian clothes but holding an enormous rifle that looked like it could take down twenty ghosts in one blast. The large weapon clattered to the ground noisily as she released it in favor of rushing to her fiancé.

In almost perfect synchronization, he held out his arms just as she dove forward to collapse into him. "Danny! Where the hell have you been? I didn't know if it was ghost trouble, or-" she stopped and stiffly stepped away from his embrace.

"Or if you were just nervous." She bit her lip, cutting herself off once more, and then— to Lancer's utter astonishment—choked on a sob and hastily brushed the tears out of her own eyes. "You know I can take care of myself. And when I can't, you can! You always have!" The young couple was rapidly drawing attention to themselves. Onlookers peered curiously at the hero and his partner's uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. The sounds of typical, blaring bar chatter diffused to a mix of speculative murmurs and exclamations of "Oh my God! It's Danny and Sam!"

But the lovebirds in question didn't even seem to notice. Samantha appeared to curl up into herself, but when she spoke, Lancer suspected it had little to do with the crowd around them. "But… if you left because you just don't want this, then…" She spoke in a quiet, vulnerable voice. "If you just don't want to be with me, Danny, I…" She lifted her head to meet his gaze, and Lancer could see that her eyes were glistening with tears.

Danny himself look horror-struck at her words. He clutched her arms tightly. His gaze on her was intense, but his eyes briefly flickered to Lancer's, and the older man knew that he was recalling the last part of their conversation.

Sam never cries.

Perhaps it had nothing to do with what Dash or any of his friends thought. I believe it was the thought of not having you that upset her so.

Being with you makes her happy. Don't you want her to be happy?

"Sam…" he began. "You know that's not true. How could you even think that? This isn't like you at all-"

"Sam! Danny! Over here!" Lancer wasn't sure how those paparazzi managed to rush to the scene so quickly, but there they were.

Cameras flashed obnoxiously as the crowd grew more tumultuous. Reporters were yelling all around them, trying to catch the young couple's attention.

Visibly agitated and yet also determined, Danny surveyed the room, nodded once at Lancer before scooping Sam up in his arms and shooting into the air and through the ceiling, making a quick escape from the paparazzi and their adoring (if not nosy) fans. Lancer was, once again, left astonished, standing behind the bar counter almost as if he'd never moved.

He had always liked the young couple and thought they suited each other, but tonight he felt he understood them just a little bit more. They didn't need a mentor or father figure to push them together, or to teach them about love. They had each other, and they had each other's backs— whether it was late night insecurities, high school bullies, or ghosts out for their blood, they would always, always look out for each other. That was just how they worked, and Lancer admired them for it. It seemed that for all his years of teaching, there was still, thankfully, much he could learn from his students.


The next day found Lancer all dressed up in a suit he had shelved at the back of his closet for last minute occasions, and seated at a lavish reception hall within Amity's most expensive hotel. One Tucker Foley had called him in the morning to invite him to the wedding— he was fulfilling some of his best man duties while the bride and groom were being primped and pampered by the fussy and overeager wedding crew hired by the Mansons.

Lancer watched contentedly as the newlyweds posed for pictures with each table at the reception. As much as he enjoyed the festivities and as happy as he was for the pair, after a few hours of harmless people-watching, he decided it was about time he headed home.

He had almost made it past the ornate doors of the reception hall when a gentle, feminine hand on his arm stopped him. Caught a little off guard, he turned around with no clue as to who would approach him like this, especially at this place, only to find that it was the blushing bride herself. The new Mrs. Fenton, who so often wore a sardonic expression, was openly beaming; she was positively glowing in her flowing gown— an unusual yet captivating midnight-black masterpiece adorned with beads (or were those jewels?) that made her appear as though she were wrapped in the night sky itself. Behind her, the festivities carried on as guests continued to dance, drink and be merry. "Leaving so soon, Mr. Lancer?" Her distinct, knowing voice floated over to him.

He smiled at her. "I'm afraid I'm getting a little too old to stay up late for all these shenanigans, Samantha— Sam," he amended upon seeing the look on her face. He extended his hand for her to shake, and she took it without hesitation. "But congratulations to you both. I can think of no other couple that deserves this happiness more than you do."

She graced him with a small smile of gratitude. "Thanks… and… thank you, for last night. Danny told me about your little chat back at the bar. I'm afraid I'll be eternally indebted to you now, for convincing him."

He chuckled lightheartedly at that. "Fear not, my dear. I didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. Besides," and here he grinned at her slyly, "do you really think anything could keep that boy away from you for very long?" Sam blushed, her smile turning shy.

"He would've come to his senses eventually. I only helped him to… speed up the process. The only thing you've got to thank me for is sparing you the monetary expense of postponing your wedding party." He gestured to the grand hall and all its extravagant decorations. "Looks like it would have been a hefty sum."

To his surprise, Sam's eyes began to glisten, ever-so-subtly, with a few grateful, unshed tears. She shook her head as if to clear it, and his shock at her unusual openness slowly ebbed away. The girl had undoubtedly been a tad more emotional than she normally was as of late, what with all the commotion that transpired mere hours before her wedding. Sam cleared her throat. "Well, then, thanks for that. You've saved me the trouble of dealing with my mother's hysterics, at any rate." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and spared him a watery smile. Lancer couldn't help but return it.

"Good luck to you both. And give Danny my regards as well, will you? If you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

The couple visited him shortly after their wedding, but not because they needed anything, per se. Danny wanted to thank him in person, as well as share the happy news that some of the ghosts had stopped trying to kidnap Sam— well, stopped trying to kidnap her to make them their bride, at least. There appeared to be some odd ghost formality involved now that she was officially married to Danny. He met up often with them after that, so much so that they eventually decided to ask Lancer to be the godfather of their second child. All in all, he considered himself pretty damn lucky that his brother had called in a favor on that fateful evening before the the Fenton's wedding. But he was never going to tell him that, of course.


A/N- Well, there you have it! I thought Lancer's chapter was going to be short but I just kept adding and adding to it to tie up loose ends. That's why it took a little while to update. Well, that and life :P So, I'm not sure if the timeline is confusing in this one! I would have preferred not to label the times, actually, but I didn't want to give anyone too much of a headache. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! I really like the idea of a young Danny doing what he can to stand up to Dash to defend his dear friend Sam even when he doesn't have powers yet, and even if he doesn't know how to put together big, brave, fancy speeches yet, and even when he's still pretty much a shy, stay-out-of-trouble kid.

I also kind of always wondered why Danny was Dash's "favorite" kid to pick on, and I thought this would be a fun/cute way to solve that mystery. Might also explain why Dash never really bullies Sam, too.

Let me know what you think about this chapter! It's pretty uh, Lancer-heavy so I don't know if it was a little boring. Either way, I'm interested in your thoughts and ideas! Also, can you guys guess who's next? ;)