A companion piece to 'Check That Out'.

Check This Out

Oh, sweet agony

A thousand dripping needles

I bleed profusely.

Danny hated Goth clubs.

Although at school Danny, Sam, and Tucker were virtually inseparable, outside of school the threesome let each other have their space. When they weren't out fighting ghosts, in doing homework, or chasing each other around on Doomed, the typical school night was spent separate from one another – Danny at home, usually getting dragged around to look at new inventions and narrowly avoid getting hurt by them, Tucker on the internet, and Sam skulking around in independent music stores, New Age bookstores, or attending Goth clubs. Neither Sam, Danny, or Tucker had any illusions about these personal activities being of any interest to the other two, so none of them invited the others to participate.

Until tonight, that is.

Tucker had managed to weasel out of it, the weasel, and Danny was stuck in the poorly lit club, sitting at a table with a Coke, listening to some Goth guy recite Goth poetry with heartfelt disinterest.

He was here for one reason, and one reason only: because Sam had asked him to come. And truth be told, although he could never admit it aloud, it wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be.

Sam looked amazing.

Danny had noticed over a year ago that Sam wasn't just one of his best friends, but also a very, very pretty girl. She was slim, muscled but in that cool, feminine-athletic way, and had really big, really awesome purple-blue eyes. (They were usually just flat purple, but that was because of her contacts.) And her hair … she'd finally stopped dying it last year, but it hardly made any difference. It was naturally dark brown, and really beautiful. He liked it the way she wore it now, longer and looped up into cool and interesting braids.

And her dress! Woo! She was wearing all black with purple accents, mesh curling around her arms and up her legs, with a skirt that curled around her hips just so and a corset top that showed off her cleavage just enough and he had to stop staring at her like this. Danny averted his gaze back to the guy at the mike (some dude named 'Elliot'), but too late: Sam had caught him looking.

"Thanks for coming, Danny," Sam said warmly, placing her hand on his. Danny felt his heart jump. It's not fair, he thought. She's my best friend, not my girlfriend!

"Sure," he chuckled, shrugging. "Least I can do, right? Show my support?"

"No, no, you have to show your disaffected scowl," Sam teased. She stood up as soft, disaffected clapping filled the room and Elliot left the stage. "It's my turn. Wow, it's been a while since I did this," she said, sounding a little nervous.

"Sorry the ghost-hunting takes up so much time," Danny apologized sincerely. "Knock 'em dead. Er, not literally."

"Thanks, Danny." Sam squeezed his hand and kissed him on the cheek before taking the steps up to the stage.

And as she stood there under the lone spotlight, performing Goth haiku (which might as well have been another language as far as Danny was concerned), wearing that awesome dress and just being her awesome self, Danny thought that maybe he didn't hate Goth clubs as much as he thought.

Certainly not if showing up earned him kisses on the cheek.

fin

A side note to anyone curious: I hope to have up a picture of 'Goth' Danny on photobucket in a week or two. The mental image is killing me.