Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. You know exactly what would happen if I owned Danny--oh wait, it did happen! Silly me. ;)

Author's Note: All right, I am very excited that I am more than halfway through with this challenge. There are thirty in total, and I'm hoping to get at least one or two done per week, so I can actually finish something that I started. There are a couple more that I plan on going through before I start the sequel to "Ten Things..." so we'll see how that goes. Thank you for reading, my lovelies!

This one's just drenched in fluffiness, something I haven't done in a while, I don't think. Well, that's a lie, I somehow manage to make everything so fluffy (since it heals the soul, and all). But yeah, I have a feeling the next one may have to do with babies. I don't know why.

018 : Unique

Rating : PG

Theme : 32. Janitor ; Freak

June 8, 2007

There are certain people in life that you value above others; it may not seem like the nice, fair thing to do, but you wind up doing it anyways. Like with your friends, you tend to single out the ones who mean the most to you and hold them closer to your heart than the rest. It may not have been nice to do, but its an undeniable part of life and emotions; everything already has its set course, and the key thing is to just go along with the flow– to avoid being bruised and cut up if you get caught in the undercurrent.

Being labeled a freak so young in life, Sam tended to stick to the people who stuck themselves to her in the first place. It may have been a mean childhood for her, but Sam found the two greatest people in the world to be her best friends as a result of the taunting, teasing, and rude names. They were put into the same category as her, ever since day one.

Did they have a problem with it? Well, Tucker felt like he couldn't get girls because of it, but Danny and Sam knew better than to listen to that rant for the millionth time. The name-calling struck a nerve in Danny every so often, especially when one of his friends was involved. He tried to be nice to everyone, but sometimes being nice didn't cut it. Sam, on the other hand, different from the rest... enjoyed the attention, even though it was negative. She enjoyed the fact that her two best friends were in the same "boat" as her, and that they were full of substance, rather than empty, useless bodies with pretty faces that deemed worthy of popularity. She hated the superficial world for giving her a hard time, but she was, overall, a better person because of it.

Walking to the house of one of those previously mentioned, she brooded silently, wondering herself whether or not she was truly a freak, someone to be scorned and hated. She wasn't sure anymore.

"What are you thinking about?" that voice sliced through her thoughts and brought widened violet eyes to meet a pair of cerulean blue ones. Seeing the look in her eyes, he rephrased the question, "What's wrong, Sam?"

She shook herself out of the depth of his gaze and moved her eyes to look at the sidewalk ahead, "Nothing."

"That look on your face is certainly not nothing," he shot back, determined to figure out what was wrong. "Tell me?" he asked in a softer voice.

She found herself answering without even looking back at him; it didn't take much effort from him to wear her resolve thin.

"Am I a freak?"

The question made Danny stop walking, while she continued on, not knowing that he had stopped. Noticing his presence not next to her anymore after a few steps forward, she stopped and turned, glancing behind herself to see him standing there with an expression which was a mix of bemusement and anger.

"Who told you that you were a freak?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in anger; he made an obvious attempt to contain his temper, which was always a sore spot whenever someone acted cruelly towards her, whether it be physical or verbal.

"No one," she quickly supplied, walking closer to him so they wouldn't be shouting down the street. "I was just thinking."

"What brought this on?" he asked, his tone more compassionate.

"Well," she began, "I'm different, right? I'm... not normal." She paused, looking away, rubbing her arm as she spoke, "So," she drew out the word, "therefore, I'm a freak, and even though it goes well with my kind of image, I just feel... it fits who I am." She looked back at him, "I don't have many friends, I seem to scare people, and best of all, one of my specialties is the paranormal! How many normal kids can say they dabble in ghost hunting?"

"I can," he said softly, smiling at her.

"Don't get me wrong, I love what I do, especially when I do it with you–"

She paused, blushing, and thought back to what she just said.

"Scratch that phrasing. I just mean that I enjoy spending time with you, hunting ghosts. The excitement and the adrenaline rushes are amazing, but it's not... normal, is it," she spoke, not questioning, just stating.

"No one said you're normal," he said, then added, "You're not a freak, either."

"But–" she began, and he swiftly cut her off, starting to walk again.

"No, just listen," he said softly, grabbing her hand and tugging her to walk with him again. He didn't let go of her hand. "You're not a freak. You may do freaky things, freak people out, but you are not, and will never be labeled as a freak as long as I have anything to say about it. Yeah, so what if we're all not that popular. We have each other, and that's what's most important, right?"

She nodded, still walking next to him, matching every stride with her own. "Right," she said softly to back up the nod she wasn't sure if he could see or not.

"As long as you understand that, you'll understand this," he began again. "You're unique, and so am I. Before, sure, I was one of the most normal guys you could find; I just wanted to be normal, have a normal life, have normal dreams, and overall be extremely and boringly normal. You woke me up to the fact that I couldn't have it that way."

"I did?" she asked, genuinely curious at how she did that.

"Around the time we first started dating," he said softly, "remember when I stupidly went back into the portal to try and reverse what I had done to myself to be a normal guy again, to lose the responsibility that I had taken upon myself?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, remembering that period in her life to be an uneasy one.

"Well, after you had yelled at me, I thought everything would be fine, things would go back to the way they were before, and nothing would really change, besides the fact that I wouldn't have to deal with ghosts anymore." He rubbed the back of his head with his right hand, then sighed, "When you said those things to me, it woke me up to what I was trying to throw away. I was trying to throw away a part of me that we both got very attached to, of course, if different ways. You made me see that I wasn't a freak, but I wasn't normal, either. Listen to that and try to apply it to yourself.

"You're a unique individual, not a freak. The way you dress, the music you listen to... it's all about your character, what you like, and who you are. It could be a phase, but really, you're just you, and people will have to accept that either way, not call you names."

"When did you become so prophetic?" Sam asked, shooting him a crooked smirk.

"You're rubbing off on me, what can I say?" he chuckled, smiling back at her. "But," he said hesitantly, "Do you understand what I was trying to get at? It's like your eyes," he said, turning to look at them.

"My eyes? What about them?"

"They're such a unique color; they match you perfectly. Plus, another reason why I love them is that my mother has the same color, too, and you two are the most important women in my life."

"Yeah," she said softly, blushing a bit at his words.

As they reached Fenton Works, he stopped walking and pulled her in front of him so he could look down straight into her eyes. "Do you still think you're a freak?" he asked, hoping that she didn't think of herself so negatively.

"I'm unique," she said softly, smiling up at him.

"Damn straight," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss her forehead tenderly.

End Note: Well, I hope you liked that little installment of this series. And thank you so much to everyone who wished me a happy birthday and congratulations on graduating. It means a lot, thank you!

Please review! They make me happy:)

- A