-dances around happily- Chapter four! Woot! I'm actually writing a SERIES! I'm so proud of myself. -tears-
There is DannyxSam in here LIGHTLY. I'm saving most of that...I might not even use it. -shrugs-
Oh...and thanks for all the reviews! -gathers you all and hugs you tightly- It makes me very very happy to read the reviews. I squealed and laughed at a lot of them, too. It really made my day to read how much you guys enjoyed the story. So...thanks sooo much!
Once again, this idea is by Phantom2B. Love the story? Love the idea-creator. -nods-
I should have chapter five soon. I hope? XXD I probably will very soon.
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, nor will I ever claim to.
And...that's it! Enjoy, my friends. xD
Oh and excuse any spelling/gramatical errors you incounter. I forgot to mention but in chapter two I accidentally first said "it made Valerie want to rip her head out" and I just had this horrible image of Valerie ripping her head off. It made me giggle and also made me feel sick at the same time. XXXXD So tell me and I'll fix immediately. Thank joo.
The cold hand lifted off of Valerie's heated skin, causing that section of her arms to erupt in goosebumps. Much to her displeasure, the hand came back onto her mouth, stopping her from screaming. She snapped open her eyes and stared into the grey eyes that belonged to her employer, Vlad Masters.
"Hush down, child," Vlad soothed, his voice silken butterscotch. "I just wanted to visit you and give you some moral support. With the racket you were making, I fear you have just woken up the entire building."
After seeing the calming grey eyes and the snowy-white hair, Valerie felt her heart slow down from its thousand-mile-an-hour pace. Once Vlad realized she wasn't going to scream or howl with concentrated anger, he let his cold hand move slowly away from her mouth.
"Your hands are cold," Valerie noted, rubbing her cheeks. "But…Vlad Masters…why are you here?"
"I just explained that to you, Valerie," Vlad said in a calm voice. "I want to give you some moral support and some information that I could not give to you though a letter for fear of confiscation."
Valerie sat up, trying to roll the kinks out of her neck. "Uhm. Okay." Vlad smiled and held out a hand like a true gentleman, offering help for Valerie so she could stand up. Staring at him suspiciously (no one had ever done that for her before), she took his hand and got up carefully. Vlad smiled, but an unknowing Valerie couldn't see the malice behind it.
"Okay…come into the family room," Valerie said, leading him to the couch. Vlad walked in front of her and sat down gracefully, while Valerie sat down and folded her legs into the pretzel position. The two stared at each other, Vlad smiling pleasantly, Valerie staring.
Finally Vlad spoke. "I want to inform you that I am going give you one of my clients to help you on your quest to find the Halfa in your town."
Valerie raised an eyebrow. "'Clients'?"
"Dear Valerie," Vlad chuckled. "You surely do not believe I do not have clients? Of course I do. Where do you think I get all of my equipment from?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I need ghosts to test them out on, and there are a few ghosts who are willing to do just that—if I give them what they want."
Flinching, Valerie's eyes hardened at the concept of Vlad working for ghosts. "But I thought you were a ghost hunter," she nearly growled. Vlad smiled softly down at her, putting a comforting hand on her back.
"I do, Valerie," he purred. "But one must sometimes befriend the enemy in order to get the big prize."
She stared at him, not really wanting to believe that her employer was in the rankings of ghosts. It made her feel weird, just thinking about it. Not wanting to look at the now sickeningly happy face, she looked down at her hands to respond.
"But…how is that exactly fair?"
"Excuse me?"
How is it fair?" Valerie asked, looking up. Vlad wasn't smiling now; it was more of a fiercely thoughtful frown. He looked up again, his grey eyes twinkling slightly.
"I'm not sure if it's fair," he said carefully, "but I don't think it really matters. Who cares if it's fair or not? It's a proven fact; to get what you want, sometimes you have to befriend the enemy. Now, whether or not the enemy is related to your prize is another matter. But just because you're friends with a ghost doesn't mean you're betraying them by hunting them."
Looking down, she considered this. What he had said was true, she knew. In order to not get detentions for handing in her homework late, she had befriended all of her teachers and explained her situation. They understood and gave her a bit of leverage on the homework bit. So…why couldn't she befriend a few ghosts?"
"What's its name?" she asked wearily.
Vlad smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth. "Walker."
---
The night continued as any other sleep over would, but there was a faint air of uneasiness flowing through the three friends. Danny was trying his hardest not to ruin the euphoric attitudes that belonged to Sam and Tucker, but it was nearly impossible; as they had mentioned to him many times before 'what he felt, they felt' and it was impossible not to make them feel twinges of depression.
Sam was decked out in a tank top black shirt with a purple bat on it (it cut off a bit higher than her normal shirt did and the collar was much shorter, showing more cleavage than Danny was sure he could handle) as well as purple pants—the same color as the bat—with black bats all across them. She had let her hair down, and it was jumping up and down as she bounced on her trampoline in their miniscule backyard.
Danny (in a white T-shirt and navy sweatpants) tried to jump but couldn't find the energy. Tucker, however, was jumping so hard and high that his red shirt kept flying above his head, revealing his dark belly and a bit of his white boxers before they disappeared into his grey sweatpants. His signature red beret lay forgotten on the table inside the house—he had taken it off for fear of losing it.
"JUMP DANNY, JUMP!" Sam shrieked, not worrying at all about her sleeping neighbors. If they got mad, Sam would just bribe them and that would be the end of that—Danny didn't doubt that she probably already had bribed them and that was why they had kept their mouths shut for such a long time.
Or maybe they just couldn't hear Sam and Tucker's screams of glee as they fell on their butts and bounced upwards, passing Danny who was standing head crazily. But Danny would bet that people in China could hear Sam and Tucker's joyful laughter and shouts.
"Fine," Danny mumbled, bending his legs and forcing himself upward, flying higher than Tucker or Sam. The two cracked up in expectancy for the major jump they knew they would have when he landed. As he felt his whole body slam down on the rubber surface, Sam and Tucker flew upwards, laughing hysterically. The force from his impact onto the taut surface caused his muscles and knees to smart slightly, but he ignored it. When Sam and Tucker came back down (going higher than Danny had), they both bounced up and down slightly, causing Danny to do so also. But they all stopped, and Danny couldn't help but chuckle at their obvious enjoyment.
"Do it again! Do it again! Do it again!" Tucker and Sam chanted, giggling. Tucker struggled with his shirt to make it stick into his sweatpants, but Danny as well as Sam knew that it was no use; the shirt would fly forward again. Sam's slippers had flown off while she was in the air and were now resting on the tiny patio that she owned. Miraculously, they were both in perfect position by the steps, waiting for Sam to slip her feet into. The three giggled at how odd and convenient that was.
"You're shoes are going to eat you in the morning, Sam," Tucker chuckled as Danny let the two catch their breath. Sam raised an eyebrow, so Tucker elaborated. "They have a mind of their own! They landed in perfect position!" Sam rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at a joke. Danny smiled.
"Jump again!" Tucker demanded as the two stood up shakily. Danny rolled his eyes, fighting from letting his shoulders shake in laughter. He repeated his jumping process, Sam and Tucker enjoying it more than they had the first time. Danny, wanting to please his best friends, continued jumping for them, not ever stopping, laughing with them as he caught his own bounce and flew upward in the air as high as Tucker and Sam had—maybe even higher.
By the time they had finished, the moon was well above them (they had started jumping when night had just rolled in but everything was illuminated in a blue-ish glow). Danny estimated that it was about ten o'clock at night; probably even later. It wasn't exactly cold, but goosebumps were rising on his arms as he stood still and let the wind flow across his sweaty flesh.
"Gosh it's cold," Sam acknowledged, rubbing her arms slightly and shivering. Tucker nodded, shivering slightly also. "Let's go inside," she declared.
Sam's parents were away for the week and her grandmother in Las Vegas gambling her heart away (and quite possibly the apartment also), so the three didn't even wonder if her parents were home. As they entered the house Sam walked to the stereo and threw in one of her more depressing CD's, only to return to the kitchen and throw a pizza into the oven.
Danny leaned against the refrigerator lightly, Tucker sitting calmly in one of the chairs. Sam perched herself on top of the table and smiled at Danny. Danny forced himself to smile back even though he was positive it looked fake. There were some times when you just couldn't fake something. His cheeks felt like rubber, his eyes hard and insisting that he was not full of the mirth that Sam and Tucker were full of. Sam stopped herself from sighing; she had thought that maybe the trampoline would lift his mood, but she was wrong.
"Danny, what the hell is wrong?" she asked without thinking.
Tucker choked on air, probably trying to hide a snort of laughter at her bluntness. Danny's eyes widened as he slowly raised an eyebrow, surprised at her bluntness also.
"Nothing's wrong," Danny said, folding his arms and standing straight.
"Liar," Sam nearly snarled. Now that she had the initial question out of her mouth, she wasn't going to give up so easily.
"I'm not lying!" Danny lied, eyes narrowing into dangerous fireballs of liquid turquoise. "Everything's peachy. Peaches 'n' cream."
Sam glared at him. "No, everything is not! You've been so lethargic all night. You can tell us what's eating you. Come on…we just want to help…," Sam pleaded, letting her voice drop as she finished her distressed sentence. Danny sighed and looked the other way, his messy onyx hair flinging in front of his face at the abrupt change in position.
"It's just…stuff," he said airily, trying to blow it off.
But Sam was not easily swayed.
"Tell us what stuff, Danny!"
"Yeah…Danny—we can help," Tucker added for Sam's benefit. Danny shot him a glare, causing Tucker to flinch into the back of his seat.
"Nothing is wrong," Danny insisted stubbornly. "I promise you that; nothing I can't handle on my own. And Sam? The pizza's burning."
"Crap," Sam muttered, jumping off the table and onto the tiling. She opened the oven, and in fact, the pizza was not burning; it was just right. She pulled it out and laid it gingerly on the stove, turning back to Danny, oven mitts on her hands, and raised a threatening finger to him—but of course the mitt made it look comical.
"If you're lying to us, you're in big trouble," she growled.
Danny shrugged. "Not lying," he lied.
Here you go, lying to your friends, a small voice in the back of his head—his conscious—yelled at him. Tell them there is something wrong! You're stressed, ghosts are freaking out, and what else is right?
Tuning out the tiny voice, he stared at the floor. "Nothing's wrong. I promise," he insisted, but to no prevail.
Tucker and Sam knew him too well to believe stupid promises.
I promised myself that Sam and Tucker wouldn't ever get hurt, Danny swore to himself. But that's impossible. Either they get hurt physically—which I can't stand to see—or they get hurt emotionally. There's no way to win; they'll get hurt anyway. But…when I made that promise I meant physically. So I'm protecting them, right, by not telling them?
"Promises can be broken," Sam said sharply, turning to the pizza and cutting of Danny.
Danny shivered. He didn't believe she had just read his mind; how could she have? But her last statement had left a chilling brand into his heart, causing him to feel sicker than he normally did and ridden with worry.