Danny couldn't help but grin as he bounced down the sidewalk, even after he, Sam and Tucker had parted for the day. After all, he had his camera back and while the memory on it wasn't fabulous, it was something he could work with. He'd also gotten all the cords he'd need to upload whatever he recorded, and he felt like he had the ability to back himself up a bit more. It just made him feel that much more secure.
He was totally going to carry this thing everywhere. He just needed a case or something so he didn't end up breaking it on accident. Because that would very likely happen... a lot. Hmm, maybe he could talk to his parents? They were still on shaky terms with him and Jazz, and everyone still seemed to want to avoid the elephant in the room, but in all honesty, Danny had been through worse. After all, he and Sam had plowed through the awkwardness of keeping a friendship after a breakup. This was nothing in comparison.
Stuffing the camera in his backpack (carefully, of course), Danny walked into an alley way and transformed into Phantom. He should be right on time to get to his appointment – the one he'd only made two evenings ago. And he'd done his research too – at least what he could research. Honestly, the internet wasn't nearly as user friendly today as it had been (would be?) in the future. Still, it had been enough to help him make a choice. And truthfully, if this choice didn't work, he had a list of others, but still...
He'd also had to overshadow his father to get permission to take some money out of his savings to pay for this, so he really hoped it would be worth it. He really hated doing that to his parents.
It didn't take him long to find the right office. There were small signs all over the building with little arrows pointing to her business, for some reason. So he pushed open the door and noted the cozy reception room. It was decently sized, made up in creams and browns with just a few hints of blues and greens here and there. After a thorough scrutinizing of the place and seeing no threats or cameras, he entered fully, striding over to a window in the wall, where he stood quietly for a couple of seconds. A man was working on some paperwork behind the counter. It didn't take him long to look up, although when he did, he could only seem to blink and stare for several seconds.
Danny shifted uncomfortably.
"Um, hi. I'm... here for an appointment..."
The man blinked again, then shook his head and looked down. "Right. Sorry. What's your name?"
"Daniel Phantom."
The secretary paused for a moment before continuing on. "Ah, yes. Here we are. Um... do you have your parents with you?"
Danny bit his lip. "Uh... that's... well, no." Meeting people in the future, especially people he'd be relying on when it came to press and his rights, hadn't seemed nearly so worrying as it was now. Then again, he wasn't even sure he'd looked up the right kind of lawyer. His entire situation didn't exactly fall under an easy classification in the current state of affairs.
The man frowned. "If you're here looking for help with a custody case or something along those lines, Ms. Tang might not be the right lawyer for you. We deal specifically with—"
"Immigration cases... yeah. That's... why I'm here."
"Oh. Well, I see. Do you have any documentation? A birth certificate? Anything from another country? A green card?"
Again, Danny shook his head. It wasn't like he could give them his actual name, after all. That would kind of defeat the purpose of coming here. "Um... no."
The man didn't seem to know what to say to that. So he just ran a hand through his hair. "You sound like you speak English well. Can you write it? I can get another language if you need it."
"No, English is fine," Danny replied.
"Alright," the man said, handing over a clipboard. "Fill out whatever you can."
"Thanks," the half-ghost said, taking the pen the man held out with the clipboard and then heading over to take a seat.
"Your 4:00 is here, Ma'am," the secretary said into a speaker.
"Thank you," came a deep alto voice over some static.
The secretary glanced up. "She'll be right out."
"Thanks," Danny said again, then went back to frowning over the paper. It asked for his name. That was easy. It went downhill from there. Age? Should he say? Being a minor might benefit him in the future, as it could help to get the general populace on his side, but it would definitely have his drawbacks. He decided to put down 14 with a question mark by it. It asked for an immigration or social security number. He left that blank. It asked for a phone number... and he couldn't really give that out either. The only phone he owned belonged to Daniel Fenton. Could they track phones right now? He decided he couldn't take that chance and left that space blank as well. No e-mail. No other way to contact him... sheesh. Could he get a burner phone? He finally put down Jazz's e-mail. And tentatively, her phone number too, with the note to the side that it wasn't actually his phone.
If they asked, he'd just say she was his therapist. Amateur as she may be...
Maybe he hadn't quite thought this through like he—
"Mr. Phantom?" a voice from the hallway that led out of the reception room had him looking up. He saw a woman with obvious Asian heritage standing in the entrance and looking at him. She wore a deep red business jacket and matching skirt and otherwise looked every inch the experienced lawyer she claimed to be in her advertisement (it was surprising how many businesses didn't have a web page these days – a lot did, but just as many didn't and Danny found it a little unnerving).
"My name is Melina Tang," she held out her hand and walked towards him.
"Uh, yeah. Hi," he said as he rose out of his chair. When in ghost form, it was more natural to float, which meant it took some thought to stay on the ground. He blamed what happened next on his nervousness, as he just kind of floated off of the chair.
The secretary actually shrieked and the woman backed away several steps, her eyes wide. It took Danny a moment to realize what was wrong. He immediately dropped to the ground.
"Oh, um... sorry. I didn't mean to scare you! I... um..."
"What are you?!" the secretary asked loudly.
Danny couldn't help but flinch a little, and his 14-year-old brain told him to curl away from the scrutiny, even as his 29-year-old memories told him to just act as calm and confident as he could. After some thought, he decided to go with his 14-year-old instincts for now. It would make him seem less threatening, after all. The last thing he wanted to do was make them think he would hurt them on purpose.
One hurdle at a time, Fenton, he told himself.
"Um... I'm a ghost."
Blank stares.
"You're a what?" the woman asked.
"Well, I'm.. a manifestation of ectoplasmic energy in post-human consciousness."
"Post-human..." the woman echoed.
Danny rubbed the back of his head. "Well... yeah. I... um... died?"
The man behind the counter balked, but again neither of the adults in the room really seemed to know what to say.
So the half-ghost decided to head off some initial fears. "I don't want to hurt you or scare you or... or anything like that. I promise! I... well, as you can imagine, the dead don't seem to have a lot of rights in the human world. I didn't know who else to go to, and since I'm technically coming into this world from another world... I thought... maybe immigration?"
"I... see," the woman said. Her nearly olive skin had gone rather pale, but she didn't look like she was about to bolt for the door, so Danny decided to count it as a win.
"P-perhaps we could discuss more in my office," she finally said before turning and walking down the short hallway there.
"Malina, are you sure?" the secretary asked.
In front of him, the woman stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "I'm sure, Ademar."
Danny spoke up timidly. "Um... if it makes you feel better, you can leave the door open. I don't mind."
"Unfortunately, I really can't. That would be unprofessional at best and illegal at worst."
"Like I said, ghosts don't have rights. And if it makes either one of you feel safer..."
"Malina," the secretary – Ademar, apparently – practically begged.
The woman sighed. "Very well. I'll make an exception, this once."
With that, she turned and walked to the office. Danny followed along behind her, and once they got inside, she gestured for him to sit down in front of the desk, while she sat down behind it.
"Alright Mr... Phantom. What can we do for you?"
"Well, I'd like to take up residence in this world... but there isn't really a precedence for ghosts to do so. At least not legally... seeing as the government hasn't even acknowledged that we exist at this point. Well, not publicly."
"How old are you?" she asked suddenly.
Danny bit his lip. "Um... as a ghost or before I died?"
She stared at him for several seconds before she said, "Both."
"I was... um, 14 when I died. I have almost 30 years of memories due to how I died, but the ectoplasmic stability of a ghost less than a year old. So... either one of those ages."
More silence. "May I ask how you died?"
Danny winced a little bit. "Well, I don't mind personally, but I wouldn't ask other ghosts if I were you. It's... often quite a testy subject."
She raised an eyebrow. "I can imagine."
"I... was electrocuted."
"How does that give you 30 years of memories?"
Danny sighed. "Well, that's a bigger issue that I'd... rather not go into unless you know you can help me."
The woman rubbed her forehead before leaning forward and folding her hands together on her desk. "I'll be frank with you, Mr. Phantom. I could get you started on some of the paperwork necessary for integration into the US system, but I don't know how well it will go over at all. I'm not even sure anyone will believe me."
"Most likely not," Danny said, dejectedly.
Ms. Tang took the clipboard from him and glanced over it, frowning. "Do you have a permanent residence?"
"Well, technically I'm claiming all of Amity Park as my haunt—"
"Your haunt?"
Yeah, he'd seen that one coming.
"Well, you see, the Ghost Zone – that's where I come from technically – has its own council that acts as a bit of a government. It's... not the best organized or functional government and they keep to themselves more often than not, leaving most ghosts to exist by themselves. We can be... kind of territorial."
He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, before moving on hurriedly.
"In any case, every ghost can make what is called a lair – a sort of a pocket dimension where their will and subconscious dictate what happens. It's a safe place for that ghost – a retreat where they supposedly live – er... after-live. I've never really created one – never had the need to – and so I don't have one. I'd like to claim Amity Park as my lair, but because it's in the human world and it wasn't actually created by me, it may or may not happen. However, I can claim it as a haunt, which is basically a ghost's area on Earth. They defend it from other ghosts and otherwise protect it as they see fit. If another ghost moves into that area and the ghost can't defend it, for whatever reason, but they've already claimed it, they can ask for help from the council. They can also have ghosts punished by the council if they break the defending ghost's rules."
The incredulous expression on the woman's face would have been amusing in almost any other circumstance. Now he just hoped he wasn't overwhelming her.
"Ghosts... have their own government?"
"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't we?"
The woman took a deep breath. "That... could make this both easier and harder. So, you're saying all of Amity Park is your current permanent address."
Danny smiled at her. It seemed she'd followed along pretty well then. "Yup."
"Alright, why do you want to live in... well, the world, I guess. Not just America... Why not just stay in the Ghost Zone, as you called it?"
He'd been prepared for this one. "Ghosts... are similar to humans, yes, but they aren't human. They tend to have different drives – reasons for staying and not passing on. In modern day, they're called obsessions. Every ghost has one, and some have multiple. They're our reason for existing at all. Fulfilling an obsession can help a ghost move on or help them evolve, depending on the obsession and how it's fulfilled. And that's... only scratching the surface. It... can get complicated."
"I'm sure," the lawyer said with a wave of her hand, indicating he should continue.
"In any case, some obsessions can't be fulfilled in the Ghost Zone... and honestly, there are few things I can think of that would be worse for a ghost than to linger in an unfulfilled or unfulfillable obsession. It's... kind of like starving to death, but slower, and more painful. If a ghost loses their obsession all at once, it can drive them insane. But if they lose it little by little or never even have the chance to fulfill it..." he shook his head. "I'm not sure I can describe the kind of madness that can lead to."
"And I'm assuming your obsession deals with the human world."
"Well, yeah. I'm... um, my obsession deals with protection. And I've kind of already grown attached to Amity Park."
A couple of seconds of silence. Then, "What if a ghost's obsession deals with hurting humans? I'm guessing there's a reason ghosts are known to scare."
"Actually, it's a misconception and a huge misunderstanding," Danny argued. "Most ghosts, like most humans, don't mean to scare people. A vast majority don't even interact with people. They're just an unknown that can do things humans don't understand. What humans don't understand, I've noticed, they fear. That's... one reason I want to change all of this, so that we can get more understanding and less fear."
"But some ghosts do mean to harm people."
Danny nodded, a little reluctantly. "Just like some humans mean to harm people. I'm... looking for a particular ghost right now who poses as a therapist. She... works on a kid's depression until they're suicidal and feeds on the misery they feel. But that's also why I want to be here – to stop things like that from happening!"
Ms. Tang rubbed the bridge between her nose. "I'm going to be honest with you, Daniel. I may know where to start, but I have, at best, a vague idea as to where to go from there. This is so far out of my league it isn't remotely funny. If you want the legal right to live in the USA, we're going to have to change laws, and not just the ideas but some basic wording of principles this entire country was founded on. This would have to be a movement nigh unto women's rights, or minority rights, with potentially less success because people have good reason to be wary of ghosts."
Danny wanted to sigh. He appreciated her candor, but he couldn't say he was surprised at her answer. At least he'd tried. It looked like he'd have to move on.
"That being said," Ms. Tang cut off Danny's train of thought before it could really go anywhere else, "I personally think you should fight for your rights, and I'd love to see you win some court cases. From what you've described, ghosts are simply another race of people – far more of an actual 'race' than the current urban definition of the term in any case. I'm just not sure you know how involved this will be."
There, she was wrong. He knew. He so knew.
"Well, I have a list of things that will need to be accomplished," the ghost boy said, swinging the backpack he'd been carrying the whole time around and unzipping it. He brought out a notebook from between textbooks (the lawyer gave those an interested look, but didn't say anything) before dropping it by the chair and laying the notebook down on the desk.
He opened it and flipped through a couple of used pages before settling on one, filled to the brim with notes.
"First, we'd have to prove that some ghosts are not just sentient, but sapient. We're probably talking multiple psychology sessions with multiple ghosts and doctors to prove sentience, let alone sapience. We'd have to set up verified protection for both the ghosts and the humans before they will be believed, but that will be the basis for more or less everything I've been planning for. That will take time, energy and money. And that doesn't even count the physical studies, whether ghosts are alive and whether that even matters...
"Once we prove ghosts can be sentient, we move onto phase two – establishing a process for ghosts to follow to become a citizen. Simultaneously, I'd really like to work on phase three – establishing the Ghost Zone as a sovereign entity. Trust me, most humans wouldn't last five minutes in there. I don't even want anyone to think it's possible to try and conquer or settle there. It's built for the powers and durability of a ghost... and ghosts can be extremely durable.
"There are plenty of things we'd have to worry about in and above that. Like, if a ghost breaks the law, are they charged here or in the Ghost Zone? What will be considered too far/too scary? What powers would be accepted and which ones wouldn't? How would we police that, etc. And that doesn't even begin to get into some of the culture clashes we'll have to try and prevent. The Ghost Zone has hundreds if not thousands of different cultures right now.
"All in all, I think that's just hitting on the obvious 'big' things. But I... I want this town to know who I am, if only so they know who to go to if a ghost attacks. I need to be able to answer questions and explain my side of the story."
Ms. Tang raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Public figures always need to be able to explain their actions... and if things keep going as they have been, I'm pretty sure I'll be a public figure. I mean, I'm trying to keep everything on the DL, but..."
"What do you mean by 'everything'?"
Danny repressed a sigh. "Ghosts have been popping up lately... tangible ghosts that the average person can see. Usually it takes years for a ghost to even begin to directly interact with the real world without possessing an object. That's... changed recently."
"Tangible ghosts," she repeated, looking him up and down as if to say, 'No kidding.' "Any idea why?"
The half-ghost refused to let himself shuffle nervously and looked her directly in the eye. "I have some suspicions..." he didn't really want to out his parents. Using ectoplasm as a sustainable energy source had begun to revolutionize power production and consumption in the future. Shutting it down now could potentially hurt the world in the long run. He couldn't let that happen, not in good conscience.
"And they are?"
"I don't want to point fingers, right now. The point is, I'm not the only ghost here. Other ghosts have shown up and will likely still show up. The quieter ghosts, once they find out that I've claimed the area as a haunt, will likely follow along and keep their heads down. Those are the kinds of ghosts I'd like to start this process for. But it's the louder, more obvious ghosts that I'm worried about – the ones that I'll have to enforce my rules on."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly are your rules?"
Danny blinked. "Oh, well, just the basics really. I mean, don't hurt or abuse humans or another ghost, don't destroy property needlessly, don't kill, no mind-control, etc. I tend to take each ghost on a case-by-case basis after that."
"So, there are ghosts with actual obsessions that are potentially or blatantly detrimental to humans."
"Well, yes," Danny admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "And that's where things get muddy. My obsession is to protect people – that tends to apply to anyone who can't stand up for themselves, be they ghost or human. But that's where I'd like to get psychologists in on it. If we can start to understand ghost psychology, I honestly think there are ways to help a ghost either change their obsession, or how they go about it. Even with destructive ones we could probably set up some sort of simulation where they can fulfill their obsession without actively or actually hurting anyone.
"But that's in the future. For now... well, I guess I am being a little self serving. I just don't want to end up on an examination table being slowly dissected alive. Well... after-alive, I guess. If I don't have any rights, then what's to stop that from happening...?"
The lawyer looked horrified and aghast. "Who would do that?"
Danny let himself sigh this time. "Well, most ghost-hunters today don't think ghosts can feel. To be fair, a lot of lesser ghosts can't. It's because we have an entirely different physical makeup – ghosts don't start out with cells. We're usually 'born' as just a random blob of ectoplasm. As we mature, we tend to develop an equivalent to cells and systems that kept us alive as a human. I mean, I can see where people come by the idea that ghosts can't feel pain... but it just isn't true for more advanced forms."
"Ghost hunters would dissect a living creature?"
"Well, we're not living, technically. Not by current definitions. Some ghosts were never even alive as they're the collection of an ideal or an imprint of a traumatizing or reoccurring event. That... is reason enough, apparently, to dissect what may otherwise be considered a sentient creature."
"You're interacting with me right now."
Danny smiled a little. "Exactly."
Ms. Tang rubbed at her mouth, leaving her hand there as she thought. She stayed that way for several seconds before she asked him something he'd been dreading.
"Let's say I take this on. How would you plan on paying for it?"
Danny looked down. "I'll get a job."
"How? If you don't have a birth certificate..."
"I'll fundraise? Or once we get everything changed, I can get legal money?"
"That's an awfully big risk for me."
The half-ghost nodded and looked down. "I know... but I had to try."
More silence for several seconds before Ms. Tang began to rummage around in one of her drawers.
"Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Phantom," she said. "I'm afraid I'll have to break decorum again."
Danny watched her silently and raised an eyebrow in response to her statement.
The woman seemed to find what she was looking for, because she withdrew a business card and closed the drawer. Then she reached over to her phone and picked it up. After several seconds, she smiled.
"Ah, Mary. It's been a while." A pause, and Danny could hear another voice speaking, even if it was too muffled for even his enhanced hearing to pick up more than a few words. He got 'good', 'call' and 'why' before the woman on the other line paused for a response.
"Well, I've got a... rather interesting case here. Quite unusual, potentially high-profile and unlike anything else you've ever seen, I can guarantee."
"Oh?" Danny heard the other woman ask. Then Danny heard something along the lines of 'royalty', 'noble', 'drug lord' (at least he thought the last word was 'lord') and 'president'. So maybe she was trying to guess what kind of a potentially high-profile case it could be.
Ms. Tang snorted. "None of the above. I don't think there's a way you can guess this one, Mary."
A pause from the other end. Then she seemed to ask something Danny just couldn't make out. Too muffled.
"I know we tend to take on differing cases, but you'll want to hear about this one. An entire group of beings are being labeled as less than human – less than sentient even."
The quiet that followed was definitely shocked. Then Danny caught the words, 'blatant discrimination.' He tried to suppress a sardonic snort, but wasn't sure how successful he'd been as the lawyer glanced his way and raised an eyebrow in question. Danny didn't think he should really distract her while she was on the phone and thus, smiled sheepishly.
He didn't know why, but her expression just seemed to get more calculating.
He definitely heard the next line spoken by the other woman. "Why did you say 'beings'?"
Ms. Tang stared straight at Danny. "Well, that's a little hard to explain. It will make more sense when you meet the client... if you want to, that is."
She said something that could have been 'intriguing' or 'interesting' and a couple of other words.
"Excellent. Can you meet with him tomorrow? What time?" Another pause as the other woman read off a couple of things.
The lawyer pulled the phone end away from her mouth and looked over at Danny. "11 am or 3 pm?"
Danny frowned. He didn't dare miss more school at this point, and the later time was getting a little too close to his school release time for comfort... Especially if he got unlucky and received a detention.
"What about 3:30?"
Ms. Tang repeated the question into the phone. After a couple of moments of muffled talking, she glanced at him. "You'll have to be pretty quick. She has something at four."
The half-ghost sighed. "Have her put me down for three and I'll be there as soon as I can." Although he still wasn't a hundred percent sure what was going on, he figured he'd roll with the punches. That was how he tended to deal with things like this anyway.
She echoed him and finalized everything, then said it was good to hear from the woman on the other side, bid her goodbye and hung up. Then she turned to Danny.
"Well, you've interested her. You keep that interest up, and she may be able to take care of most of the work – and the money. That woman is a genius in getting funds and sponsors. I'd say I don't know how she does it, but it probably has to do with the fact that she has a lot of high-profile clients. Politicians, CEOs of small companies, etc. She also volunteers to do civil rights movements every now and then. I think this qualifies."
She stood and Danny did the same, following her lead. The lawyer hesitantly reached out to shake his hand, and he slowly took it and shook it firmly.
"Huh," she said, pulling her hand back and looking at it, and then him again. "Well, alright then. Thank you so much for coming in, today, Mr. Phantom. Don't forget to pay for the consult, but I am sorry I couldn't be of more help."
Danny reached into his backpack and pulled out some money before setting it on her desk. She just stared at it.
"Where did you get this?"
"A friend gave it to me," he replied, feeling sheepish again.
"Right. Let me just get you a receipt."
She walked past him and out the door for a couple of seconds before returning with some change and a little slip of paper.
"Thanks," Danny said as he took it from her. "You've helped more than you know. Do you mind if I just fly out of here?" He was supposed to be home soon and it would be faster.
Ms. Tang just blinked. "Um... sure?"
Danny grinned. "Thanks. I owe you one."
He jumped into the air and phased through the roof, leaving a lawyer with an open mouth and bugging eyes behind him.
xXx
The next day, Danny told Sam and Tucker about the lawyer and his general plans when it came to hopefully getting a publicist as well.
"Dude, do you think you'll get that popular?" Tucker asked from his spot on the bleachers by the football field, where the trio had decided to take their lunches. The boy sounded more than a little skeptical. "I mean, it took you turning into a ghost for me to believe in them. I doubt everyone else will just because of a few sightings."
Danny had to admit, Tucker had a point. The public had only begun to believe in ghosts in his previous timeline because of Desiree and Walker. Very few people actually remembered Ember being a ghost (ironic if he did say so himself) and everything else had been more or less explained away. Even the giant, green dog from the cafeteria. It was really after Walker and his ghost invasion that people began to openly acknowledge ghosts' existence. And he was going to actively try and stop that event from happening. There had been too many people hurt and far too many potential casualties from that incident for his obsession to allow anything else. True, the physical issues had all been minor or rebuildable, but the mental repercussions had been... longer lasting, and mostly negative.
He knew Amity Park would have to admit that ghosts existed at one point or another... especially if his future plans came to fruition. However, he hoped to ease them into it little-by-little. That was always the best way to change, right? Okay, maybe not always... but he did think it would be the best in this instance.
"I dunno, Tuck," he finally responded. "But I'd rather be safe than sorry in this case. I mean, what if someone sees me in a ghost fight and they get a picture or something? Then everyone sees this 'ghost boy' floating around doing who knows what, and if I don't have something set up, they might give me some terrible name, like 'Inviso-Bill'?"
The other two cringed.
"Alright, dude, you've made your point."
"Why didn't you tell us you were looking for a lawyer?" Sam asked. "My family has a pretty good one."
Danny blinked. "I... well, I wouldn't want to take advantage of you like that. Or your parents. They already don't like me."
Sam rolled her eyes. "They've met you what, like five times?"
He shrugged. "It's more than enough for them, I guess. Besides, I don't know if I could afford your family's lawyer."
"You can't really afford any lawyer."
"Point." He had to concede.
Instead of her usual triumphant expression, Sam looked away and shuffled nervously. "Um... how did you know... about my family?"
Danny blinked, then his expression flattened. "I was at your house. And, like I said, I've met your parents."
"So have I," Tucker pointed out with a shudder. "But what's up with your family? Besides them being terrifying."
Danny and Sam stared blankly at him.
"What?" he asked.
"You were at my house too," Sam said, incredulous.
"Yeah, and I was worried about the ghost that Danny was taking to the dance and then your parents said they'd ruin my family so I was a little distracted and... wait..."
Danny raised an eyebrow pointedly. The Mansons wore their wealth rather openly. Admittedly, it had just never really clicked for him in the previous timeline because of how Sam acted and Tucker had been on the same page.
The techno geek's eyes widened. "What was I supposed to notice?" Although the half-ghost was pretty sure that his friend had begun to put it all together. He would have had to consciously go into the 'nice' side of town to get to Sam's address... probably one reason why Sam had never invited them over before.
Sam and Danny exchanged glances before Sam sighed. "My family's kinda loaded. My grandfather invented that machine that swirls cellophane around toothpicks."
The techno-geek's eyes widened. "Wait, you're the cellophane-toothpick-swirling-heiress? How come I never knew this?"
"Ugh," Sam groaned and put her head in her hands. Then she glared up at her friend. "Because I don't want fake friends that only money can buy. That's what you attract when you flaunt what our society equates as 'status'."
Danny could almost see Tucker's brain stutter into 'BSOD' mode, then reboot.
"Exactly how rich are you?" he asked tentatively.
Sam scowled. "Rich enough."
"Could you buy another car?"
The dark-haired girl glared over at her friend. "Yup."
"A sport's car?"
"Yup."
"An RV?"
Sam sighed, picked up her garbage and walked back towards the school. "Yup."
"Um... a hang glider?"
"Yup."
Amused, Danny picked up his own mess and went to follow his other two friends as Tucker continued to question. "What about the best phone on the market?"
"Yup."
"No way. What about that new laptop that just came out?"
"Yup."
"What about—"
This is going to be a long walk, isn't it?" Sam turned to Danny, cutting Tucker off.
"Yup," Danny said with a grin. She shot him a dirty look.
"Come on, just a couple of questions," Tucker promised before he continued without waiting for an answer. "What about a monster truck?"
Sam groaned.
xXx
AN: BSOD = Blue Screen of Death, ie your computer (or in this case, brain) froze and you need to take a moment to 'restart' it.
Sorry this is a bit late. Was doing some traveling and got back home dead tired. I tried to finish it anyway, but when the computer screen starts swimming in front of you... so yeah.
Thanks again to LittleSnowyRascal9842. :D I appreciate your help.