A short, totally pointless, plztonotbetakingthisseriously ficlet inspired from a very crackish conversation on a DP community I frequent. Whoayes. Fear the random DP ficlet.

Obligatory Disclaimer: Don't own, etc, etc, you see these all the time, I think it's safe to assume no one owns anything. (Well, except in this case, I do claim ownership of the insanity that is the Underwear Ghost.)

The Underwear Conspiracy

"Danny, don't take this the wrong way, I enjoy spending time with you-"

"Mmph."

"-It's just that I'd really prefer it we could do it without the leopard print..."

"Pfft..."

"And the lace..."

"Hmph."

"...And the neon green g-string."

"Hrmphffle!" Danny spat out the viridian menace that had been previously occupying his mouth. A pale arm popped up from under the pile of tacky lingerie and began pawing at his tongue in disgust. Sam repressed an amused snort at the sight of a boyish face only just barely visible, surrounded by various frilly things. His blue eyes currently hid a slight twitch as he tried to rid himself of the taste of dust and spandex.

Sam rested a hand on her neck and surveyed the scene before her, setting down the small shopping bag at her side. Shifting her weight to her other foot, she gently prodded the pile with a steel toe boot.

"Danny, uh, why don't you come up for air?" She suggested mildly, trying to hide her grin behind a closed fist.

There was an unintelligible grunt before tousled pitch black hair sprung up, scattering unmentionables everywhere. Sam bit her lip hard to keep from launching into a laughing fit. She knelt down across from her friend, opening her mouth to say something before deciding against it.

"So. Tell me what happened. Go on, entertain me."

"Um." Danny stopped to think for a second, before fidgeting and fiddling with the collar of his shirt. He glanced back up at Sam, the familiar "I'm in Trouble, Better Act Fast" glint in his eyes.

"There is a logical explanation to this, and I can assure you that it is a most... logical logic. Unfortunately, this logic can only be expressed through song and dance."

Sam stared blankly at him, a raised eyebrow the only sign of skepticism.

"And as I neither sing, nor dance, you're just going to have to take my word for it." Danny finished, putting what he hoped passed for a confident expression on.

There was silence for a moment where the two of them just stared at one another.

She blinked.

He just kept on smiling, silently egging her to believe him.

Without a change in expression, Sam leaned forward, reaching for Danny's cheek. His face slipped into neutral, unsure as to whether a blush was inappropriate. He opened his mouth to haltingly question her motives, when she promptly flicked him in the head and plucked off a black cotton bra that had been hanging off his ear.

"Well, that gets a part of my shopping done." She stated casually, stuffing it away in the small store bag at her side. Danny choked awkwardly, grateful for an excuse for his flourishing blush. Sam rocked back onto her heels, and crossed her arms, giving Danny a look that spoke only of disbelief.

"So, perfectly logical explanation aside, what really happened?" She questioned, busying herself by picking off various articles of clothing. He stared blankly at her, trying to form a coherent story, a task made difficult when he was already trying to not be distracted as she preened him of lingerie. He opened his mouth to answer, before being struck back into silence as Sam set aside glaringly vivid striped tights.

Momentarily caught between wondering why on earth Sam would even consider purchasing zebra print stockings and what he ought to say, he finally stumbled upon an answer: the truth.

"Okay, okay, fine. You caught me," he grumbled. Sam stared at him expectantly, casting aside a pair of boy-shorts with a sneer. Danny bit his lip and glanced to the side, before sighing in defeat.

"It was an Underwear Ghost." He said it in a most solemn manner, going so far as to cast his head downward and wring his hands in worry.

There was silence for a moment, before several odd sounds escaped Sam's throat. Something of a cross between laughter, a disbelieving snort, and a gag.

"The - ah, sorry, the Underwear Ghost did you say?"

"...Yes. Yes, I did!" Danny looked up at her, eyes wide as if surprised that she doubted him. "Really! Chased him all the way here. He had an armload of, um, these," he said, gesturing vaguely at the pile around him, "And, well... I figured I ought to stop him!"

Sam stood, and shook her head, blowing an arrant strand of hair away.

"Because that's what you do." She stated, holding her hand out to him. He accepted, allowing her to pull him out of the pile of lace, frills, and cotton. He smiled appreciatively. "You fight Underwear Ghosts." She continued, her voice edged with laughter. His smile slipped briefly into a grimace.

"I'm serious! Really. There really was an-"

"Okay, Danny. Just, next time? Make sure I don't run into your sister before finding you." Sam smiled innocently, picking up her bag of lingerie and pushing it into his arms. He took it easily, paling and glancing to the side.

"Oh. ...Wait, when did you see Jazz?" Danny asked, shifting the bag so that it settled more comfortably in his arms.

"Only a few minutes before finding you buried under a pile of ladies' undergarments."

"Oh." He repeated, for lack of a more eloquent response.

"Yeah. Sorry your parents weren't at home today. It sucks that they made Jazz watch you." She bit her lip, her smile widening into a playful grin. "...and that Jazz had to take you shopping with her." Danny grumbled unintelligibly, grabbing her wrist and taking her over to the counter to pay.

"There really was an Underwear Ghost... There coulda been..." He dug out his wallet, not even questioning why he was paying. The cashier raised an eyebrow, but soon slipped back into the customary apathy, waving the customers off after the strange boy had paid for the equally strange girl.

They walked out of the store together, her laughing and him sulking. It wasn't long before they slipped back into friendly bickering and banter, heading down the mall strip to perhaps avoid further encounters with the treacherous sister.

After he was sure the Ghost Boy was gone, the Underwear Ghost poked his head out of the changing room stall, shifting the boxers on his head so that they didn't block his eyes. He grinned, gathered up the loose underwear and lingerie that had fallen from the boy's collision with him earlier. He paused only to peek in on a woman in one of the rooms, and snitch the thong she was going to try on, before flying off in search of his next successful raid.

End
/Jaq