Thank you for all of the reviews, they are appreciated! I'm inspired so; better take advantage of it while it lasts!
Dispassionately Sam plucked at a strand of her mother's pearls that she despised wearing, thoughtfully attempting to look interested as her Editor in Chief spoke of fluctuating sale increases and decreases over the past eleven months. She knew perfectly well that this was leading somewhere, boosting someone inside the small and well-decorated quarters to a promotion. She had stayed up half the night hoping that it would be her, that she would advance from making meaningless reviews to an actual position of some importance, front-page worthy. Now she could only think of what Tucker had said.
She could not believe that she was so immersed in her own 'home-style' universe that she did not realize any wrongs that may be occurring in her hometown. Sam's parents were ecstatic when they heard of her position in "Home-style Living," Something that neither of them dared to dream she would ever achieve. It was not impassioned work, but it was work all the same. She did not find interviewing housewives on their detergent habits to be invigorating, but it was worth it all to have her name possibly recognized by a mainstream magazine.
Mitchell reveled in the tense suspense, loving the fact that his words hinged the future of one of his employees, or so he assumed. "Due to the fact that Linda Martinez has stepped down from her former position, it has been my decision and honor to select Samantha Manson to take over her position." She glanced up in surprise, glancing at his grinning face and the glares of the others.
"Huh, what?" He took this as shock opposed to disinterest and shook her firmly by the hand, yanking her up from the plush chair she had been rooted in.
"Despite her evident lack of style and ineptitude when it comes to matters of the home, her articles will require no pictures to identify her and she is by far the best we have on the staff." He beamed, presenting her like a dog going through the paces.
"Excuse me, what?" She questioned, looking down on her outfit in surprise.
"I apologize for cutting this meeting unceremoniously short, but I am needed elsewhere," He said hastily, patronizing Sam by patting her shoulder childishly before hastily snatching his belongings and retreating. She was a bit disappointed by the anticlimactic reaction she was receiving and attributed this to the funk she had been put into this morning. Two of her coworkers and pleasant acquaintances cast both her and her clothing a scathing glare, not seeming to note or care that she had significantly dressed up for this 'honor.'
Upon returning to her car Sam was unsurprised to see her cell phone blinking the message 'four missed calls.' Should shocked her was the fact that only one of them was from Tim and the remaining three were from an unknown number, though the area code was vaguely familiar; Amity Park.
Nervously she returned Tim's call firstly, knowing that he was on edge and curious as to whether or not she attained the greatly coveted promotion. She could not help but spite Tucker for ruining what could have been a celebratory occasion, something Tim had 'stealthily' bought wine for and made 'reservations' at the nearest Nasty Burger, the franchise had grown.
"Hey, Tim, it's me, Sam. I got the promotion but I'm running late for an, er, previous engagement, but I'll see you at home." She didn't romanticize the relationship and saw no viable reason to do so. She definitely had feeling for him, their living situation required it, but she held no fantasy of him as some sort of prince charming, but there could be a future with him…something that she could not stop from exciting her.
As the urge to call tuckered emerged the phone seemed to comply as it sounded cheerfully. She had been incapable of changing her rind tone to anything that mildly resembled her persona. For the most part she kept it on vibrate, though Tim enjoyed switching it off just to aggravate her. The triumphant sound of flutes and a summer orchestra seemed to suggest that he did just that.
"Tuck?" She questioned, though she knew the answer.
"Where have you been? I had to hack into the phone company records to trace your cell, and you didn't pick up!" His panic worried her and she quickly assured him of her safety.
"All in three minutes work, I gather?" She teased, attempting to brighten his already dampened spirits. "I had a meeting at…the magazine I work form and it was super important." Talking with him brought her back to the high-school age, the awkward slang and all.
"Where do you work, GothTeen Monthly?" He questioned in all seriousness, and a hue of radish rose to her cheeks as he spoke. Thank the lord he did not expect a response. "You need to come back, it's important." She furrowed her brow and settled into the comfort of her seat.
"Oh god, I thought you were in Ohio, what are you doing back in Amity Park? And what's wrong with Danny?" She still had not had time to catch the news, though the radio had shed no light on the situation and the newspapers were not blaring any strange, supernatural related reports. She could imagine him shifting his trademark hat nervously, though she doubted he could possibly still own that ratty old thing.
"It's bad. Jazz called me back a month ago and…well, it's really bad. I guess the mayor and everyone is trying to keep it off the news the best they can, but some of the deaths have leaked out. I thought you would recognize it." He thought wrong.
"Tuck, what…is going on? How's Danny handling this, what, did Vlad come back or Skulker, or is it a new threat? Talk to me." The past six years of her life seemed to fade into intangibility as she spoke anxiously, her vertical half-ponytail and excess of purple lipstick coming to mind.
Tucker sighed again, a habit proving to be of the utmost irritation. She was tempted to shout at him, but knew it would do no good. Tuck did his own thing in his own time; there was no rushing him. "It's…Danny, Sam." She blinked obtusely, tapping her fingernails on the steering wheel impatiently.
"I get that Tucker, you told me before. Now what's the new threat?" She questioned angrily, attempting to conceal her own worry and discomfort with her usual defense mechanism.
She was not the only one growing irritated, Tucker paused to roll his eyes. "No, Sam, Danny's the threat, he's completely…he's, he's gone." She heard him perfectly, but refused to believe her own ears.
"Gone where?" This stupidity was uncharacteristic, but Danny, evil? They prevented that on more than one occasion, mostly by both Tucker and Sam staying alive. He didn't answer; knowingly realizing that silence would be the best affirmation. Thoughts of the fine wine and cheap takeout faded from any recollection as Danny's image came into sharp focus.
"Danny?" She questioned weakly, her free arm falling limp. "He…he can't. He's…Danny, what about his parents? Jazz?"
Tucker sighed, a habit that made Sam wish she were near him so that she could rip his throat out. "Jazz is still here, but Mr. and Mrs. Fenton are gone-not dead! Just, gone. They've been out of the country for nearly a year on ghost-hunting business, and Jazz's been able to keep this under wraps but…it's really bad. Three people are dead, the school has a ghost guard, everyone's picked up cheap trinkets to keep themselves safe…very few of which work, naturally. Whatever happened to truth in advertising?" She was in utter shock, the disbelief seeping through to her as the inner voice in her mind bellowed that this could not be true.
"How…why…when?" She stuttered, her mouth going dry.
"You're starting to sound like a newspaper, no wonder you went into the magazine business. I…we need you here, Sam. We can't reveal Danny Phantom a.k.a. Inviso-Bill's true identity to anyone else. They've already set up a dead-only bounty." Sam was not worried about Danny's wellbeing, at least physically, he was nearly unbeatable as a fumbling adolescent, and now that he was nearly twenty-five there would be no stopping him. The people in Amity Park would soon meet their dooms if they kept up with this nonsense.
Without knowing what she was saying or thinking of the consequences Sam spoke in a voice unlike her own, "I'm coming."
Next chappie goodbyes with Tim, travel, and arrival. I'll try to crank it out as quickly as this one!