Chapter Two

After Amaya's bags were moved from the trunk of Jazz's car to the inside of Danny and Sam's house, Jazz was ready to say her goodbyes. Sam led her up the staircase and into the guest bedroom, where Amaya and Danny were both situated.

Upon seeing her mother, Amaya dropped her red crayon and scrambled to her feet. Jazz smiled wistfully and knelt down, greeting her child with a tender hug once she came running to her. "See you later, baby. Be good for your aunt and uncle, okay?"

"Yes, mommy," the young girl responded. Sam couldn't help but smile at the little moment the two of them were having. She thought it was pretty cute, though she wouldn't ever admit that out loud.

Jazz brushed some lint off of Amaya's sleeve, retaining her sad smile. "Give mommy a kiss before she leaves," she said, slightly craning her head to the side. Amaya obediently leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too, mama." Amaya pulled away from her after that and eagerly rushed back over to her coloring book. Danny, who had been sitting beside her, rose to his feet and walked over to Jazz. He signaled to her that he was going to escort her outside, so she nodded and waved goodbye to Amaya and Sam.

The idea of being alone with Amaya made Sam feel a bit awkward all of a sudden, so she cast a desperate glance over at Danny. He studied her for a few seconds before smirking and leaving the room with Jazz anyway.

Oh, she was going to kill him for that later.

Amaya was so engrossed in her coloring book that she didn't seem to notice that Jazz and Danny had slipped out of the room. Sam, not wanting to just stand there but also not wanting to leave, sank down to her knees and watched Amaya sweep her red crayon across the coloring sheet.

"You know, most people color between the lines and not outside of them," Sam advised after noticing that Amaya was scribbling way past the lines. She was ignored, however, as the young girl simply kept coloring like that anyway. "Uh, so, how old are you? Six? Seven?"

She already knew how old Amaya was, but she was just trying to wiggle a response out of her. "How old are you? Forty? Forty-one?" was the retort she received instead of an actual answer. She flinched, completely taken aback by that.

"Whoa, there, little lady." She forced another smile onto her face and tilted her head to the side. "Let's dial that guess down by about a decade." Once again, Amaya disregarded her and resumed coloring, prompting her to frown. So far, her only opinion of this girl was that she was hard to crack.

Danny poked his head into the room about five minutes later with the intention of checking up on them. "My two favorite people. How's it going in here?" he asked, his bright blue eyes resting upon Sam, who had been standing in the corner and observing Amaya.

"Everything's going fine," she answered as she walked up to him, her gaze remaining trained on the young girl. "Apparently I'm in my forties." She didn't hear a response from him, so she looked over in his direction to catch him raising an eyebrow at her. "Never mind."

He stared at her for a few more seconds and then nodded. "So," he started, lowering his voice to a whisper, "we have it pretty easy with her since it's summer. No school, no problems."

She frowned at him. "That's not really easier. Her going to school would mean that she'd be gone all day. Her being off for summer break means that we have her to ourselves all day everyday."

"Look, Jazz told me that we just need to keep her occupied at all times. As soon as she gets bored, we have to transition into the next activity," he informed her. "Piece of cake, right?"

"I mean, sure, but we are not super nannies, Danny," she whispered back, mildly irritated.

"Well, we are today." He glanced down at his wristwatch with a frustrated sigh. "Looks like the next activity is lunch. It's almost noon, so I'll just fix her something quick to—" He paused, and a second later, a blue wisp trickled from his mouth. He groaned softly and murmured, "Okay, scratch that. Can you take care of lunch?"

Sam blinked twice. "Lunch?"

"Yeah. Lunch," Danny repeated, an unsaid "duh" lacing his tone. He quickly glanced over at Amaya before motioning towards the door with his head, indicating that he wanted to speak to her outside the room. She caught the hint and walked out the door without a word, waiting for him to follow her. Once they were in the hallway, he continued talking. "Fixing lunch for her is the easiest thing in the world."

"Really? How?"

"I don't know. Jazz is strict about her only eating healthy food, so just make her whatever crap it is that you eat." Sam scoffed offensively, but he merely leaned over and pecked her on the lips. "Kidding. Anyway, I'll be right back." Two bright rings of light formed around his waist and raked up and down his body, transforming him into Danny Phantom. He flew up and phased through the roof, leaving Amaya and Sam alone.

Again.

"Preparing lunch for a seven-year-old. Can't be too bad, right?" Sam asked herself quietly. She then inhaled deeply and pushed open the door to the guest bedroom, greeting Amaya with a small smile. "Hey, kid. Ready for lunch?"

She expected the girl to blatantly ignore her once again, but surprisingly, she didn't this time. "Lunch!" She got up and bolted out of the room, ditching her crayons and her coloring book. Sam remained rooted to that spot for half a minute before following after Amaya, descending the steps and making a beeline for the kitchen.

For lunch, she fixed pita bread and hummus with a side of sliced apples. It wasn't for her, though; she wasn't hungry, and there was no way that Danny was going to eat that, so Amaya was the only remaining candidate. She, however, didn't appear to want it either because she grimaced upon seeing it. "I don't want apples and bread," she whined, turning her nose away from the plate.

Sam was already used to that response. She did grow up with Danny and Tucker, after all. "Why not? An apple a day keeps the doctor away, you know." Amaya didn't budge, so she pointed to the pita bread. "That actually tastes delicious. Try it with the hummus. I promise you won't be disappointed."

"What's hummus?" Amaya inquired, glaring at her lunch with disgust.

"Well, it's a spread that originated from the Middle East. It contains chickpeas, sesame seeds, gar—"

"I'm allergic to everything you just said." Amaya cut her off so hastily that she almost believed her for a minute, but then she remembered that she was talking to a little girl.

They often lied when they didn't want to eat something.

"Oh, yeah?" Like a shark, she slowly encircled Amaya's chair, studying her with penetrating eyes. "What did I just say, then?"

That stumped her, as her face scrunched up in deep thought. Sam smirked with satisfaction and crossed her arms, but that feeling quickly faded once she heard Danny ask her, "Uh, Sam, may I have a word with you in the living room?"

She briefly hesitated, glancing back-and-forth between him and Amaya. Then, with a sharp roll of her eyes, she whirled over her shoulder and marched towards the living room. "What did I do wrong? I made her lunch."

"You did. Thank you for that, but please remember that you're in a kitchen, not an interrogation room. You don't have to circle her like that."

"Well, she was lying to me. I think my actions were justified."

Danny snorted at her. "Yeah, okay. Here. Let me show you what you could've done instead of that." He strode back into the kitchen with a determined expression plastered on his face. Of course he was about to upstage her; she knew that already.

"Uncle Danny!" Amaya exclaimed, her face brightening instantly. "Help me! She's forcing me to eat this nasty food."

Sam inwardly rolled her eyes, but she leaned against the door frame of the kitchen and closely watched the pair's interaction. Danny's lips thinned as he approached the table that Amaya was sitting at. "First off, she is your aunt Sam, okay?" Amaya frowned, but nodded respectfully at him. "Secondly, do you like piggy back rides?"

That question baffled her. "Yeah. Why?"

He didn't answer her, scooping her up from her seat and positioning her on his shoulders instead. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling as he moved briskly throughout the kitchen with her. Sam cracked a faint smile at the sight, though she still didn't understand how that was going to make Amaya eat her lunch.

He set her back down on her chair about half a minute later, finally choosing to answer her. "Well, you have to be strong to give piggy back rides! This meal right here is exactly what made me so strong," he told her, motioning towards her lunch. "Please try it. Trust me, you'll like it."

She made a face at first, but then she broke out into a grin. She tried the hummus and the pita bread combination, and judging by the way she kept eating it, Sam knew she liked it. She felt Danny casting a smug look her way, so she rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, hot-shot. You got that."

Dinner time had rolled around before anyone knew it. While Danny kept Amaya company in the living room by watching her favorite television show with her, Sam busied herself in the kitchen. She was conflicted; she wasn't sure what she wanted to prepare for dinner. There were so many options for her to choose from, but she ultimately decided to make rice and carrots.

She absolutely refused to cook any meat with it, so if that's what Danny wanted, then he was going to have to get his butt into the kitchen and whip that up himself. She was mainly cooking dinner for Amaya anyway; she wasn't that hungry.

"Dinner's ready!" she announced loudly, hoping she wouldn't have to repeat herself. She had already fixed their plates and placed them on the table. All that was left was for them to come and eat, which they did about twenty seconds later. As soon as Danny saw what they were having, he glanced up at her, ready to complain, but her lethal glare stopped him abruptly.

"Looks delicious, Sam," he remarked, his gaze swiveling towards Amaya for a second opinion. "Right, Amaya?"

The child simply shrugged, though it was evident to Sam that she didn't like the meal. Of course, she wasn't about to admit that in front of her uncle. "Can I have ice cream after dinner?" she asked, seemingly in general.

"Yes."

"No."

The two answers were said simultaneously, with Sam's answer being no, of course. Danny had said yes, so once he heard her response, he flashed her a look. She returned the look more defiantly, crossing her arms to show him that she wasn't budging on the matter. "You said strictly healthy meals," she reminded him in a reduced tone of voice.

"A little ice cream isn't going to hurt anyone." He kept his voice low as well so that Amaya wouldn't overhear them, which proved to be successful because she obliviously ate her dinner. "Two scoops max. You really don't want to deal with a whole temper tantrum, do you?"

Sam frowned. "No, no I do not." She sighed heavily and raked her slim fingers through her hair. "Fine. Ice cream after dinner sounds fine."

Amaya heard that, however, and eagerly clapped her hands together. "Yay! Ice cream!" she exclaimed. Sam nodded and took a seat at the table along with Danny, sitting across from them. She wanted to eat in silence, but obviously that wasn't going to be possible with a seven-year-old girl at the table. "Aunt Sam, how come you aren't as fun as uncle Danny is?"

Danny nearly choked on his rice, but Sam wasn't too surprised by the question and maintained her calm demeanor. "Because I'm not really a fun person, but there's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes it's good to have a little balance," she responded. "I'm sure there will be a situation where my personality will come in clutch."

"Aunt Sam is plenty of fun," Danny interceded, winking at her to let her know that he had her back. She rolled her eyes a bit, but smiled at him. "Trust me, Amaya. You'll realize that in a few days."

Amaya shook her head. "Yeah, right." She then resumed eating, missing the deep frown that Sam was now sporting.

At eight o'clock sharp, Sam realized that it was time for Amaya to go to bed. Like a statue, the girl was sitting in front of the television, completely focused on whatever series Danny had let her watch before he fell asleep. He was knocked out beside her on the couch, so she knew that she was going to have to be the one that sent Amaya to bed. Instantly, she knew that wasn't going to go well at all, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to go through with it.

"All right, kiddo. Time for bed." She rose up from the couch and stretched out her arms, but when she saw that Amaya wasn't budging, she lowered her arms and tried again. "Amaya, did you hear me? I said it's time for bed."

Amaya groaned, her face contorting in annoyance. "I heard you." Her expression then went blank, and once again, she was engrossed in her television show. That peeved Sam, but she tried her best not to showcase that feeling.

"Then how come you're not moving?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Silence. "Okay. I'm not going to do this with you." She snatched the remote from the arm of the couch and shut off the television, causing Amaya to burst out at her like a tornado. She began wailing, throwing herself to the floor while kicking and having a fit.

That made Danny jolt awake, eyes darting around the room in bewilderment. His gaze swung towards Sam before resting on Amaya, and instantly, he understood what was going on. "It's okay, Sam. I'll handle this." He stood up and advanced towards the crying child, so Sam took that as her cue and left the room.

She went upstairs to their shared bedroom and shut the door, hoping that would tune out the wailing from downstairs. It did a little bit, so she wearily approached the bed and climbed on top of it. She started to rethink her whole agreement to babysitting because there was no way she could put up with that any longer. Yes, that was her niece and all, but she didn't think she was up for the job like Danny was.

About twenty minutes later, said boy slipped into the bedroom, looking both apologetic and sympathetic. "You okay?" was the first question he asked her. She nodded meekly, but she probably wasn't too convincing with it because he sighed and shuffled over to her. "I put her to bed."

"I don't think I can do it." Her voice was soft and quiet, but mostly because she was exhausted. "I really did try with her, but she doesn't like me. What can I do? I can't and won't force her to interact with me in a more positive manner."

Danny exhaled huskily and climbed onto the bed, occupying the empty space beside her. "She's a kid, Sam. She just needs to warm up to you first. You're not doing anything wrong," he assured her, his tired blue eyes drilling into hers. "I promise. You'll see. Tomorrow will be a much better day."

She chuckled once and rolled her head to the right. "Yeah, right. We'll see."