I am sooo sorry this took so long, but Sam's part just didn't want to work and I had so many ideas for Danny's that I ended up writing four drafts before I gave up and just used this one. But its summer and so I've been on vacation at my aunt's and then camping and I didn't have a computer. That's no excuse though, because I write everything down in a notebook first and then type it, and I had the notebook with me, but I'm lazy. In truth, I finished this chapter and most of the fifth while camping because I was bored (the fifth will be up soon, I just have to finish a bit) and I'M SORRY!!!

ANYWAYS... this is specially dedicated to viciousberries, who is my fav reviewer for this story. You all should thank her because she is the one that inspired me to get back on this. I was working on a one-shot Danny Phantom like I do every summer because I was bummed about this one, but she's wonder and got me into it again. So thank you, viciousberries!!!

But I'm blathering again, just like I always do. Enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Four

Love, S.M.

"It is always a pleasure to work with you…" Sam stirred awake as she heard the approaching footsteps accompanied with the lowered voice making their way out of the now-silent clearing. She curled in on herself, trying to make herself as small as possible to avoid detection, and held her breath as they passed some seven feet on her left without glancing around.

She had fallen asleep as that conniving little… Sam had no words to describe the filth that was Vlad… started bartering for the slaves like they were animals, throwing out ridiculously low amounts that Senióre Sanchez leapt onto like a hound after a bone, unknowing of how cheated he was rapidly becoming. She had marveled in anger and disapproval as Vlad slowly lowered his prices, until her rampaging emotions wore her down enough to send Sam into an exhausted but light slumber.

Samantha scrambled up when she realized that the men's voices were growing too faint for her to hear, tripping and stumbling on her multiple skirts until she caught back up to them, silent. In the very back of the group, chained together as they limped along slowly, were two slaves one carefully supporting the other. All of the other slaves had been sent on ahead with three of the hulking lugheads Senióre Sanchez brought with him, but Vlad had subtly insisted that these two stay with him, much to the bewilderment of the Spaniard.

The first, a petite young woman some two years younger than Sam herself, was horribly bruised and bloodied, her face pale under her dark skin. Her torn bodice drooped low over one shoulder, and her skirts were dirtied with dry mud and other unknown elements, but the way her eyes twinkled dangerously couldn't hide her courageous spirit.

Sam feared for the girl when she had first noticed the gleam in the girl's brown-black eyes, an immediate feeling of dread washing over her as she realized what the slave's duty was to be. Senióre Sanchez had mentioned that she had worked as a maid in her previous mistress' household, until she had tried to flee when it was discovered she had been secretly listening to the private tutor lecture instead of doing her cleaning. Vlad had glanced once at the girl, pausing slightly at her glinting eyes, before grinning wickedly and stating she would be a wonderful maid to the Lady Masters. Of course, Senióre Sanchez didn't know there was no Lady, but Sam, Walker, and the armed giant knew the girl would still have a place in the master bedroom: Vlad's bed.

Samantha couldn't figure out why Masters was keeping her companion, however. True, he was of the largest men she had ever seen (he had to have been a bricklayer in a previous enslavement) but other than that she could see no reason to keep him. When he glanced briefly in her direction, (she quickly ducked beneath a bush) however, she clearly saw why. Although his skin was as dark as any black's, his eyes were upturned and almond-shaped, distinctly labeling him as one of the illegal Asian, banned from entering America for their safety.

Both Spanish and Asian bloods were tolerated in the country, (although illegal) yet any chance to capture one of the hard-working foreigners was quickly taken. And by this young man's eyes (he couldn't have been younger than Dash, even slightly older) there had been little fight in his enslavement. They were kind and honest, belying a trust one wouldn't think to find in his situation. He was carefully holding his fellow slave, and when her knees gave out completely he wordlessly swung her into his arms with ease.

Ahead of the two slaves (who were being closely watched over by one of Vlad's own brainless logs of muscle) Senióre Sanchez was taking his leave, stumblingly offering farewells to Vlad and Walker, bows thrown in where he couldn't seem to find the correct English words. Then he departed, hesitantly glancing around at the unfamiliar surrounding trees before striking off boldly into a cluster of trees before stumbling over the first root that came in his path, barely saving face when one of the bumbling bozos with him caught him under the arms.

Sam stuffed her good fist against her mouth to hurriedly hide her laughter, watching carefully to see if anyone had heard the one giggle escape, but the only movement she saw was the Asian turning his own head to keep his own laughter subdued. Senióre Sanchez yanked out of his helper's hands, face red as he hurried away quickly without looking back.

There was silence for a minute as the group paused, listening for the return of the Spanish slave catcher's footsteps, before the party moved on, headed in the complete opposite direction. Sam carefully noted, however, that the metal man that had stood next to the Spaniard had failed to leave him. Instead, he stood next to the conniving Vlad, an impressive sight next to the much smaller man. It was the smaller man that made the view astounding, however.

Vlad was a powerful image to see, pouring dignity out of his very being. His gleaming black hair was starting to gray at the sides of his head, belying his advancing forty-two years of age, and was tied with a red ribbon at the base of his nape, not a single strand falling into his piercing gray eyes. A long, triangular nose was constantly raised in the air royally as if something smelled putrid all around him, and his clothes (a crisp black suit with a red undershirt that was completely inappropriate for wandering in a forest) added to his high-and-mighty attitude.

No one knew where the 'Lord Masters' had come from before he mysteriously appeared in Amity Town twenty years ago, but idle rumors had fabricated a wild story about Vlad, one he oh-so conveniently failed to proclaim as a falsehood. Something about the King of England impregnating his daughter with an illegitimate son (Vlad) and having him sent away as a child with one of his old mistresses, but not before the boy developed his own stately air. Sam couldn't know for certain all the whims her town had about him; she had stopped listening after someone claimed it wasn't the King's daughter the ruler had made with child, but his own mother.

No, something told her that Vlad was just as common blooded as the rest of them, whatever the plantation owners thought of themselves. Maybe it was the way he started at the sight of any red-haired woman, or flew into a violent rage at any man wider than a doorway (the metal brute and his henchman the only exception), but something was off about Masters.

Sam tried to push her thoughts aside as she continued to follow them, but it only brought her attention back onto her throbbing left hand. She cast her eyes around for anything that would distract her, focusing quickly on an angrily chattering squirrel about to throw a rotten acorn at the brute guarding he two slaves for shaking on of the lower branches of its tree. She giggled internally as the missile was thrown and hit its target (who looked around blankly for his attacker without seeing anything), before realizing that the metal-man was talking quietly to Vlad as Walker stood looking on in annoyance.

Obviously there was no love between traitors and conspirators Sam observed idly, watching the mountain of muscle clearly snub the overseer, blocking the thin man from view as she crept closer, trying to hear.

"…haven't seen his trail for three months, milord. Do you really think we can still find him?" 'Bang!' Sam hurried to cover her gasp as she heard the gunshot, horrified. Vlad had reacted immediately to the question, slamming his hand down on one of the multiple triggers that lay ready on the rifleman, firing a shot. The bullet shot straight downward, headed for him embowels, but bounced off of another gun at the last second. Walker winced as he stared at his rival in something close to sympathy, but the man remained emotionless and uncaring of the danger that had almost befallen him.

"Are you questioning me? Don't underestimate me, Skulker. You may be the best tracker in the Confederacy, but even you aren't invincible. And I could make certain that you never went on another hunt again." Vlad's voice was like acid, his tone more foreboding then his threat.

The now identified Skulker gave such a small flinch that only Sam and Vlad seemed to see it, but he gave no other sign of his fear. "No, sir." Vlad nodded firmly and started to walk again, but paused at the sound of the hunter's voice ringing in between the trees surrounding them. "But why do we go after him? What is so special about this boy that we continue to hunt him even after he has disappeared completely? Even the fool," Skulker glanced at Walker as he said the insult. "knows nothing of its importance in your plan. So, why? Why do we go to these lengths?"

"Because, you dunderheaded imbecile, without 'it', that twit Samantha will eventually find a way out of the engagement and ruin everything. If, once, we have the animal Tucker in our grasps, Samantha will beg to marry my charge to keep the vile boy safe. He maid, her best friend" Vlad spat the word out like it was poison, disgusted. "is practically betrothed to the thing. And I doubt even he could survive Walker's wipe forever. Eventually, either the twit or the animal will break, and I can go on with my plans. But" Masters said harshly as he saw Walker and Skulker's bravado return, "we need the little escapee first."

"And if he's dead?" Walker spoke for the first time, bluntly charging ahead with the question as he saw Skulker open his mouth to speak. When he was Vlad go still he shrunk back cowardly, (something that looked extremely strange on such a tall man) but the plantation owner only chuckled, amused. Sam couldn't see Vlad's expression since his back was turned towards her, but she could imagine his sickening smirk clearly.

"I must admit, there's a much greater chance that he is dead, but if so… we kill the twit and her family and take the land!" The men started to laugh uncontrollably and started to walk away, but Sam didn't follow this time. She was frozen where she stood, mind chaotically trying to reason out what Vlad had said. 'Tucker… chance… dead. Kill… land… her family!'

"No!" She gasped as she heard her own voice yell out, covering her mouth in shock as she tried to scramble to her feet without using her injured hand. Vlad and Walker didn't seem to hear her scream through their laughter, but the slave girl glanced sharply at her before pretending to thrash around and yell in her sleep as Skulker gazed suspiciously between the trees.

"Shut up you stupid girl! I know that wasn't you!" The hunter snarled at her as his eyes edged closer to where Sam crouched, petrified. "Where are you!? Who is she protecting?!" Sam whimpered silently as he prowled closer to her hiding spot, shrinking back. The injured slave girl glanced helplessly at her companion, whispering softly to him in a language Sam couldn't translate.

The Asian stared worriedly down at his friend, but she jabbed him weakly in the stomach with her elbow and he seemed to consent. He took a great breath, and started to sing, brawlish nonsense sounds coming out of his mouth.

The gibberish sounds seemed to wake Sam from her stone-still fear and she scrambled up, shaking. The captive girl gave her one last commanding glance and Samantha turned quickly and started to run. "No! They're getting away!" Sam heard Skulker's shout and put on another burst of speed, weaving through the trees precautiously.

She didn't know how long she had been running when her adrenaline finally failed, but the cursing and stomping feet that had been her pursuers had been long gone. Somewhere along the way she had abandoned her many petticoats, but she only remembered them catching harshly on a thorny bush and the fleeting panic of getting them off in her jumbled memories.

Samantha was still gasping for breath when she seemed to realize that she had little idea was she actually was and she gazed around, anxious. A little brook, bubbling softly, was to her left, and a wild selection of forest vegetation was to her right in strangely neat rows. And ahead of her, sprinkled in splotches of sunlight through the overhanging trees, was a simple wood cottage complete with a smoking chimney and sagging clothesline.

Odd, however, was the hundreds of ticking clocks that hung from the thatched roof, all telling a different time. Their off-rhythm ticking seemed to make the surrounding trees echo with off-pitch noises, and Sam dimly registered the fact that there wasn't a single bird chirping nearby as she basked in the feeling of peace she hadn't felt in over a year coming off of the haven.

"Clockwork…"

Forever, D.F.

"Come, sir, surely you must need new boots. Come in, come in…"

"A flower for that special lady, half-price for you, my lord."

"A discount shoeing for a fine steed, only for you, young man."

"No, no thank you. I only need a few things…No, its fine, my horse is fine, thank you…" Danny was becoming slightly irritated at all the badgering shopkeepers around him, pushing their way onto the new stranger. He lipped his mount into motion and gave up on being polite, curtly dismissing the annoying old men and their twittering daughters. His horse, a tall black creature with silver hooves and mane, tossed its head in relief as he moved faster, as glad as his rider to be out of the main hubbub.

Danny had purchased the steed on his first appearance into town, stunning everyone with the sizable sum of money he paid for the animal even while dressed in poverty-stricken and dirt-stained travel clothes. Now he wore a pair of crisp black pants and a shockingly white shirt that he wore untucked and loose, though it did little to hide his corded muscles.

He made his way back to a more solemn corner of the town, twisting and turning through narrow streets as the buildings because more and more ill-kept or small. Danny let his mind wander as he traveled the now-familiar route, body still tense for any sudden movement. They had been in town for little over two weeks, slowly slipping into Amity Town's life, to hopefully blend in. Lancer had provided him with enough money to cloth their small party, even the traitor, and to purchase a small cottage in a quiet yet respectable part of town that was close enough in Amity to keep from raising suspicions but far enough away that Danny could slip quietly away without anyone noticing.

Tucker still refused to leave the house, and Kitrina was so overwhelmed with taking care of the still-wounded Johnny that she hardly ever left his side, forcing Danny to be the reluctant face of their 'family'. Kitty insisted on keeping Johnny out of town until he was well, however, so Tuck gave them directions to a mysterious hermit called Clockwork to house the traitor. He never told them who the old man really was (Danny wasn't entirely sure Tucker knew who he was either) but said he could be trusted and was educated in herbal medicine. Kitty and Clockwork were working together to heal the wounded man, but sent Danny on a mission for a healing solvent Clockwork couldn't make at his forest home daily.

Danny had fallen so far into his thoughts that he almost passed by the house he meant to stop at, but his animal companion had become so used to the path his owner now followed that he instinctively stopped, jerking his rider back to the present.

"Good job, Phantom. Stay here." Daniel climbed down from the horse and strode between the bush fences, his steady steps marred only by the slight limp he had on his left leg. Kitrina was unsure if he would ever fully heal from the wound, but Danny was determined to do just that. Every morning he got up before dawn and would work out, sometimes riding Phantom so his body could get used to the pain and sometimes doing exercises General Lancer had drilled them on when everyone first joined the regiment. Danny rather enjoyed the morning routine, pleased at the warm stretch his muscles achieved as he pushed himself just a little past his limit. The only truly annoying part to the morning was the group of giggling girls that gathered to gaze on him shirtless.

Danny was dimly aware of finally reaching the door, which remained shut for hardly a second before it was yanked open by a plump teenage girl who sighed besottedly at the sight of him. "Hello, Boslinda. Are your parents home?" He felt like sighing himself as she started to chatter instantly upon his question.

Boslinda was a decent girl herself when her mouth wasn't open, cheerful and pretty in a child-plump way. She was even engaged to a young man named Tomas who dreamed of going to sea, through how he managed to ask her acceptance between her constant talk was a mystery to Danny. Her parents, a broad cabinetmaker named Robert and an equally stout woman named Poppy that worked with herbs, were kind and easy going, though they both babbled on like Boslinda.

Danny followed the talkative girl as she moved down the narrow hallway and through a series of rooms till she reached the back of the house, where another door was open wide enough to show an expansive garden of green.

Poppy was kneeling in one of the middle rows in front of Danny, her sporadic red hair flecked with gray escaping from underneath her bonnet. "Mama! Nathaniel is 'ere again!" Boslinda gushed as she hurried to where her mother was buried up to her elbows in soil, missing Danny's flinch.

Lancer had warned their group heatedly never to use their real names in Amity, including Johnny. Instead, they used their middle names, and a new one in Tucker's case. Two-Sides had pestered them insistently when he first heard about the identity change; for all the traitor knew, he was the only one who would need to protect himself, and repeatedly told the others so. Kitrina had quickly silenced him, however, with a sharp jab to his injured arm and an accidental 'slip' of her knife that nearly severed him from his genitals. The poor man was silent for the rest of the day and partially into the next, losing count of all the pitying glances Danny and Tucker threw his way.

And so they had an identity switch, with Danny as Nathan (he hated it when girls similar to Boslinda used the full name, Nathaniel, but it was only proper) and Kitrina as Anne. She was also masquerading, much to her horror, as Johnny, or Matthew's, wife. Clockwork wouldn't have allowed her to nurse him if he knew otherwise. Tucker had chosen the name Shawn for his playacting, though he had yet to use it.

"Ah, Nathan dear. Are ya 'ere fer more medicine?" Danny was shaken out of his thoughts as he heard the kind voice below him, and looked down to see petite Poppy's face watching him as she wiped her hands on her apron. He had a hard time imagining such a face twisted into anger, but from what Boslinda had told him upon his first visit, before he learned not to listen, she could burst into a rage in a millisecond and then be gentle and sweet after another.

"Of course, Mrs. Baker; is it ready, or should I come back later?" The young man answered as he bowed sheepishly, causing Boslinda to go into a round of titters at the gesture before she flew into another part of the house, supposedly her room.

"No, no. It's ready. Come inta da kitchen; I'll git it for ya." Danny followed her, nodding once at a breathless Robert, who was working on holding a giant shelf in one hand and reaching for a hammer with the other. When he entered the room Poppy led him through he glanced around, seeing the same scene that had greeted him every other time he had come. A single pot, covered crookedly with a too-large lid, sat on the griddle above the fire, burbling quietly. Sacks of grain and sugar lay to his right, and a large handmade bookshelf overflowing with jars of multi-colored fluids was to his left. Poppy hurried over to the shelf and grabbed a leather bag sealed tight with wax, chattering constantly. Danny tuned back in as she walked over to the simmering concoction in the pot, sighing as he heard the nonsense.

"Yes, so many peoples be aneedin' this pain barrier soup. Why, Lisa down the way is 'avin' a baby and comes to me every 'our to fight of da backpain! And I'll be a makin' a bet that Lady Manson will be sendin' someun down 'ere soon; 'er daughter will be aweddin' Lord Masters' charge. Ah, poor dear, I wouldn't want to marry that youn' man… But that ain't none o' my business…

"Now I hope ya don't mind, youn' man, but this is an old batch I'm 'eatin' up. That servant Valerie ordered it some year 'go when she was about to be 'gaged to 'er man Tucker, but when 'e all up and ran she said she didn't be needin' it. And me already 'avin' fixed it too! Poor girl…"

Danny stopped listening as the shock overtook him, frozen. Tucker had almost been engaged?! Valerie… that was the name he was always muttering in his sleep… Danny knew about Lady Manson's arranged marriage to the town womanbedder, Dashar, but he didn't care about that…

" 'Er ya go, youn' man. You be gettin' away before my dau'er gets 'er paws on ya and decides she don't want 'er Tomas now, ya 'ear? And I'll see ya tomorrow…" Danny turned, dazed, as Poppy handed him the now-scorching leather bag. She started to push him out the door and he let her, afraid the only thing holding him up was her aging tanned hands. "Oh, Valerie! Wha chu' doin' 'ere, girl?" Poppy's voice was cheerfully delighted as she saw a plump black standing in the doorway, her maid's cap on crooked. Danny looked on her wondering if this could be the mysterious Valerie, when he noticed two ribbons, a yellow and an orange, tied to her hair that were identical to Tucker's.

"Oh, Poppy, hurry! Sam has been hurt and Lady Manson is about to go into hysterics!" She was gasping for breath, and Danny figured she had run all the way from the Manson Mansion across town.

"Alright, dearie. Tell me wha's inju'ed." Poppy began running around the room, grabbing jars and concoctions quickly.

"Her hand! It's big and puffy, and I think it's broken! The doctor can't come, either. He's been in Jackson Town for days, trying to help clean up soldiers after a battle with the Union Army! Oh, Poppy!" Valerie sounded on the edge of tears, and Danny felt sorrow enter his bosom. Poor girl, indeed…

Suddenly Poppy paused as she saw him still there, and Danny recognized the scary anger on her face. Boslinda certainly was right… "Shoo! Shoo, boy, ya be in me way! Take 'at to ya sista now, ya 'ear?" Danny nodded and backed out the door, shooting one last look at the distressed Valerie.

Phantom stood exactly where Danny had left him, and the boy vaulted on his back. A brisk pace set towards 'home' left Danny time to think, and his mind was solely on Tucker and his engagement. He knew his friend had some reason or other to stay hidden in their little cottage, but Danny had never thought it would be this. His friend obviously still loved the girl, he wouldn't carry her ribbons otherwise, but Danny also knew that Tucker didn't want to see her, whether out of fear she had moved on or that he would never leave if he did. Poor Tuck…

Phantom's second halt made Danny realized that they were back to the cottage, and he jumped off. Rose bushes formed a little path to the door, the reds and pinks and whites almost in bloom. Uneven cobblestones followed the walkway, leading to the cedar wood door. Inside were two stories, the first containing a small kitchen, sitting room, and Tucker's bedroom. Up above were two more bedrooms, one for Danny and Johnny, who had yet to use it, and another for Kitty.

Tucker was in his room, sharpening one of his multiple knives. He had asked Danny to get the set along with his clothes, and he sat rhythmatically running the stone down one of the blades with a gloomy expression on his face.

"Get up." Tucker looked up at Danny's voice, confused. Danny knew he didn't want to leave; why should he move? "We need to talk, so you're going with me to Clockwork's."

"And if someone recognizes me?" A valid question, but Danny had a ready answer.

"We'll pretend you're sick, and cover up your face. No one will see enough to have proof it's you. Now get up, you need to get up." Tucker sighed but stood up, resigned. Danny was till the mission leader, after all. As Daniel went to get the wrappings for Ticker's disguise, the black loaded up his weapons, shoving the six knives in various, inconspicuous places on his person as well as two pistols and strapping his rifle to his back.

"Alright, let me put these on you." Danny wrapped the cloth around him, covering everything but Tucker's eyes. The former slave shoved his hands in his pockets and they went out to Phantom, who shuffled awkwardly with Tuck's extra weight before settling down.

They rode to the edge of the forest and then into it, following some unseen path. They were both silent as Phantom moved between the trees, watching for unknown figures. Once they almost came across a Spaniard and his lackey's, but they passed by unnoticed in the end.

Soon they came to a section of the forest where there weren't any other living things around them, scared off by the deafening ticks of hundreds of clocks. Tucker sighed at the familiar setting, mind awash with memories, and Danny glanced at his solemn friend. Would he ever return to his fun loving, joke making best friend? He hoped so, for both of their sakes. He was going insane without a friend to talk to.

Tucker silent slid off the horse and started to undo his wrappings, tense. Danny moved Phantom over to one of the trees and got off himself, reaching for the reins to tie the jittery creature up. He didn't want the animal to run off. Not only would they have to walk back to the cottage, but the poor beast was so spooked he probably couldn't find his way out of the forest, and would wander in it for days.

"Go on in. I need to get Phantom calmed down and find Johnny's good." Tucker nodded and walked to the wood cottage, dreading the reunion, Danny watching him silently.

And neither of them noticed the small, indistinct, foreign footsteps leading towards the clock cottage.

Note to viciousberries: As you can see, that sneak peek that I gave you didn't happen in this chapter. But I promise it will in the fifth, because I've already written it and I'm not throwing it away because I absolutely love it, so you WILL see it. Just not in this one, in the fifth... yeah. Thank you again!

And to the rest of you wonderful readers! Thank you for sticking with boring old me and my problem with updating, I know its frustrating because I hate when the stories I want updated aren't. But please, stick with me, I promise the fifth chapter will be up, because I start school on August 7th. Stupid school, trying to force us to go year round... Anyways, Love Ya!

Angel

P.S. The first person to review and correctly tell me who Robert, Poppy, Boslinda, and Tomas are in the real series get a cookie and I will take any suggestion they give me and put it in a special chapter, just for them. You only need three out of four though, because one or two of them MAY be hard, it depends on how much of the series you have seen. NOW, Love Ya

Angel again.