Challenge topic #35: Dance with Me
Character(s): Sam Manson, Danny Fenton
Genre: General
Rating: K

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. Beware: Fluff ahead.

He found her behind a flower arrangement near the restrooms. "Hey. Why are you so upset? I thought dinner went pretty well."

"I hate them so much sometimes. I hate them." Sam struggled to hold back tears of rage.

Danny rolled his eyes a little and grabbed her hand, tugging a little. "It wasn't so bad."

She shook her hand free with a violent wrench, leaning into his face. "Not so bad? Danny, don't you even realize? The only reason they invited you was to belittle you in front of their stupid, stuck up friends."

"Yeah, I kinda picked up on that even before we got here tonight. And the sneers and syrupy sweet insults were a pretty big hint. But I thought I did pretty well. It was sorta tricky there for a minute with all ten-thousand forks and spoons and different little cups and such, but I just watched what you did. No problem." Danny shrugged.

Sam leaned back against the wall with a sigh. "I guess. Your witty banter has improved lately. You kept up with the conversation, so all they really had to mock you for were the same things they always mock you for." She rubbed tiredly at her face, but managed a small, strained smile.

Danny joined her on the wall. "Exactly. They ran out of material pretty quickly, I made sure not to talk about anything I didn't already know about and by the time desert was cleared away, I'd managed to charm more than half the table onto my side. Total Win."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "More than half is still less than total, Danny."

He grinned unrepentantly back at her. "Whatever, you know I'm bad at math. Point is, having to deal with Vlad has taught me how to deal with smarmy, snobbish, rich jerks without making a total fool of myself. Who knew the Fruit Loop would actually be good for something?" He paused for a moment to look thoughtful. Shaking it off, Danny continued, "And admit it, I look the part. Neat suit, sparkling personality, and tidy hairdo, I've got the whole package!"

Sam's smile was more genuine this time. "Fine, you clean up good. But Danny, as well as you've done so far…"

Danny cut in, pushing himself off the wall and waving his broadly at his suit. "Just don't expect this kind of thing every day, because this suit is really uncomfortable…," he tugged at the collar and tie.

Sam tried again, "Danny, dinner wasn't the only…"

His eyes were twinkling and he was fighting a smile as he interrupted again. "And I had to take out a small loan to afford enough hair gel to get this mess to lie flat…," he patted carefully at his coiffure.

"Danny!" Sam hissed.

"Sam!" Danny whispered right back. He was smiling full-out by now.

She stamped her foot, absently noticing that it didn't have the same effect without the boots. "The night's not over yet. Since this is a country club function, we're going to be expected to dance for the rest of the night."

Danny nodded complacently. "Um-huh, it said so on the invitations."

The frustrated tears were creeping forth again. Sam tried to explain to her aggravatingly dense date. She didn't want those horrible people to even have a chance to 'win' tonight. "Danny, I know you're good at that '80's style dancing your folks taught you, but this is all formal dances."

Danny faked a look of concern. "Yeah, about that. I only have one question."

"What's that?"

He pulled the small square of cloth from his pocket. "Am I actually allowed to use this stupid little handkerchief, or is it only here for show? Your mascara is running a little bit."

Sam took it with a muttered 'thanks'. She hurried to the nearest mirror and pulling mascara from somewhere in her cleavage. Immensely interested in the process, Danny leaned in for a closer look, only to meet a gentle but firm full-hand-to-the-face shove. "You're actually supposed to have a second one on you if you expect to need it. But I can fold this one back up to hide the smudges." She suited deed to word, tucking it neatly away, "But what are you going to do about the dance?"

Danny shrugged. "I've got it covered. I hope those shoes are comfortable, because you're going to be on your feet for the rest of the night. Come on. Dance with me." And he pulled her back to the dance floor in time for the music to start.

Waltz, Tango, Viennese, and Foxtrot, they danced them all, and they danced them well, earning admiring looks from the surrounding guests.

"Danny." Sam said suspiciously.

"Ye-ess?" he sing-songed back at her.

She led him off the floor to take a break, before rounding on him accusingly. "Where did you learn how to dance?"

"Guess."

Sam smirked back at him, mood much improved from earlier. "Twenty questions?"

"Works for me." Danny said agreeably.

"Did you learn from a human?"

"No."

She tapped a slender finger against her lips. "That means ghost. Female?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"Desiree?"

"No."

Sam crossed her arms and leaned back into one hip. "Phew, because anything from her would be backfiring about now."

Danny scoffed. "Like I didn't know that."

Sam squinted thoughtfully at him for a moment before her eyes went wide. "Oh my God, Danny! You asked Princess Dora for dance lessons!"

His jaw dropped. "How could you possibly have guessed that in three questions?"

"I just know you that well. But seriously?"

Danny lifted his hands in surrender. "Yeah. I decided to go at this like any other time I face an opponent. Pull no punches. The only difference is that I had some warning and time to prepare on this one. Dora's actually a pretty good tutor. The only trick is getting her to stop dancing."

"Wait. You're thinking about my parents and their set as opponents?" Her surprise transformed into a wickedly hungry grin. "Any chance you could shoot them a little with some ectoblasts?"

He laughed at her. "Be good, Sam. The goal for tonight is 'good impression', not 'terror and minor burns'."

"Darn." She snapped her fingers in mock defeat, only to notice him hiding a puff of blue mist from his ghost sense. "Oh no, do we need to go take care of that?"

"Nope. It's just the fee I'm paying for the lessons." He pointed over to the far side of the room where an attractive blonde in sparkling evening dress was joyfully gliding across the dance floor in the arms of her latest partner. "One evening full of dancing at the 'Ball'."

Sam stared in shock. She recognized Dora's 'human' form from that fiasco with the Beauty Pageant. "When did she get here?"

"Just as you ran out after dinner. You will not believe the cred I got for introducing actual royalty. Princess Dora Mattingly of Aragon. She just so happens to be a close personal friend, you know. I don't think your parents will be much of a problem anymore. Like I said, Total Win."

Sam could not have smiled any more widely. This evening had turned out to be the complete opposite of the total disaster she'd been dreading. And to think, if things did go south at any time after this, they could still come out ahead. Dora'd just eat the offender. Total Win, indeed.