Once again, I still don't own Danny Phantom or any of its characters.
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He stared. Like an idiot. For at least thirty seconds, during which she continued to regard him with a familiar sarcastic half-smile. He'd never understood that stupid phrase "a sight for sore eyes" until now. Now, when he realized just how sore his eyes had been for the sight of her.
He hurried to stand up, somehow managing to not push his chair back and cracking his knee incredibly hard against the underside of the desk. She instinctively took a step toward him, her hand out like she might grab his arm to steady him. The thought of her touching him had him kicking the chair back against the wall with a crash as he rushed to stand, sending some chalk flying from the blackboard tray and an eraser plummeting to the floor.
"And some things never do change," she drawled as she stepped back to the doorway. Her face had changed so little that he could almost swear time had thrown him backward. His eyes traveled from her eyes to her delicate cheekbones, over lips that he could still taste on his, snow covered and...
"You alright? It was your knee you hit, not your head, right? Danny?"
He cleared his throat and opened his mouth. What was he going to say. He'd never expected her to turn up here. In the beginning, she'd written. He'd read every word hungrily but never responded. She'd called, and he'd always let his machine pick up then played the message over and over like an idiot. She'd eventually stopped trying. And yet, here she was. She didn't look angry. She just looked...like Sam. He looked at a spot six inches to her left.
"Um, hi. What...um, what brings you here?" There. At least he'd spoken. And his voice had only been a little squeaky.
"Actually," she started, dragging the words out with enough hesitation to worry him, "I was hoping we could talk about something."
That was bad. People didn't tell you they wanted to talk to you about something unless it was bad. If it was good they just started talking to you about it. He searched his mind for a hint of a possibility of what she could want to talk about, but found nothing.
As if sensing his reluctance, she rushed to continue. "It won't take long. Maybe we can, I dunno, get a cup of coffee?"
He couldn't think of a good reason to say no. He tried. Heaven help him, he tried. Half an hour with Sam could be, well, dangerous among other things. Why was she here? Why now, when he'd finally gotten himself settled into his life, when he'd finally been able to stop thinking about her quite so much? Oh, who did he think he was kidding with that one?
"I, um, well, there a lot of tests to grade..." It sounded lame, even to him. So he shrugged and followed her through the door, down the hallway where the ghosts of his past lingered, mocking him, and out to the parking lot.
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"Don't be such a grouch. Just come with me." After what had happened in the park a few months before, she was somehow miraculously still speaking to him. He could feel the wind trying to pull the graduation cap from his head and reached up one hand to hold it on. She grabbed the other and dragged him across the school lawn, across the parking lot, and down a small hill behind the school to a little picnic area the teachers sometimes ate lunch at.
Tucker stood there in his own Casper High cap and gown, tall and gangly and grinning like an idiot. Even though Danny had made it clear that the ghost forays were his to deal with alone, Tuck hadn't stopped trying to be a friend. None of that mattered now, Danny thought. In a few months he'd be off to that prestigious tech college and his future.
Sam shoved him next to Tucker and stood in front of them. Then he noticed Jazz with a camera. Strange to be standing here like this, like everything was the same, like tomorrow they'd get up and hang out at the mall, fight a ghost or two, eat at the Nasty Burger. Like Sam wasn't leaving in two days for the trip to Europe that her parents swore was essential for any cultured young woman to take before college. Like they wouldn't be gone for good very soon. Like he wouldn't be stuck here fighting ghosts, taking the blame for everything that went wrong in Amity Park, and going to the run-down teachers college a few miles out of town.
He felt a jab in his ribs, Sam's pointy elbow. "Smile," she whispered as she pasted a smile on her own face. The flash erupted in his eyes.
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It was the screams they heard first, followed by the blinding flash. Danny broke out in a run past Sam and toward the far side of the parking lot, ducked behind a car and emerged a few seconds and his own flash of light later as the ghostly Danny Phantom. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Sam had stayed back. Of course she hadn't.
He screamed over his shoulder for her to stay back as he turned to find the source of the chaos. Another flash of light directed his attention and the spirit began to grow from a small red-shelled figure to a massive tower of light, flame and red heat. Damn, this was going to be ugly. He headed toward the behemoth, an ectoplasmic net already forming between his hands, ready to try to slow the thing down. And he swore he heard Sam's voice.
"My god, it's real..."