Second Chapter, yayy D Simple, what just happened and a little more in Danny's perspective. -shrug-

Thanks for the reviews! They mean a lot. I'm serious! I got a lot of really nice reviews and I'm really thankful. MADE ME HAPPY!

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorousdeath, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

Warning (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, do not read this. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!

Enjoy!

She was cute, in a strange, out of the ordinary way, Danny decided. When she had come over, he was expecting her to scoff at him, as did so many of the younger kids. But after closer inspection he noticed she wasn't exactly like the other kids. She was decked out in all black, a change from the clothes most of the kids here wore. It was an orphanage for kids who had a decent amount of money to tap into; many of the kids were wearing Abercrombie and Fitch, or some other designer brand. Never, at least to his knowledge, had a kid came in wearing fishnet arm stockings, chunky black boots, a black tank top, and thickly painted eyes.

"Wh'at'cha doin'?" she asked. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her, but laugh while he did it. He liked her voice; it was gentle. He wondered how old she was.

"Looking at the sky," he told her idly. Then, without meaning to, he began to ramble; "It's pretty, you know? Different. Unpredictable. One minute it can be bright blue, the next minute obscured with clouds...or other things..." It had taken all his self control not to say 'ghosts.' He was sure that she would step away from him fearfully the minute he said it; and he didn't want that. He hardly admitted it to himself, but her company was nice. She had a rather calming aura to her, one that Danny enjoyed.

He looked over at her, trying to gauge her reaction, and saw an adorable expression flit across her face. His heart did a back flip inside of his chest cavity. He nearly gasped at the sudden and unfamiliar feeling. "Like birds?" she asked, perplexed.

Danny couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. She was so damned cute! Birds? Where the hell had that come from?

Still chuckling, he ruffled her hair, a sudden urge to touch her washing over him and gaining dominance. "Not my original thought, but I suppose close enough," he laughed.

She smiled at him, not really getting the joke. But Danny didn't expect her to. "How old are you?" he asked. "I'm ten." He stretched his fingers above his head and yawned idly. He rolled his eyes at her, smiling a lop sided smile.

"I'm eight," she said brightly. "My birthday's in six months. I can't wait!" Childish anticipation for her birthday, Danny noted. They really weren't that far off; his eleventh birthday would be in five months, so that left the two twenty five months apart. Danny raised his hand, aiming for a high five. She slapped it back and the two grinned at each other.

Talk continued like that for quite a while; one asking a question, and the two would engage in conversation on the question's topic. Hew as surprised at how much they had in common; she was younger, and, much stranger, a girl.

Finally, they called out dinner. Danny grumbled. "About time," he sighed.

Sam looked up at him inquiringly. He patted his stomach and let out a laugh. "I'm starved! I skipped lunch because...I had to do something."

Wow, what a crappy lie. He hit himself mentally but pretended that he wasn't lying to her, so she wouldn't pick up on it. She nodded, as if she understood.

Danny took Sam's hand. "I'll show you where the dining room is." He smiled. She smiled back at him, grinning like a school girl. she really was quite cute, he decided with an inward sigh. She reminded him of a doll. He also loved the fierce independence she reeked of; her clothing style, the way she talked, and her rather insane views on every topic there was. She was so opinionated it was comical. He had always been drawn to people who expressed their thoughts, and there was no doubting that Sam did just that.

The two sat together, chatting animatedly. Karin and her friend, Sophia, sneered at one another. "Of course Sam hits it off fantastically with the other odd kid," Karin scoffed. Sophia nodded, smiling in a matter in which it was easy to see there was no genuine sorrow.

"She just picked the absolute most-wrong person to befriend. He's going to ruin her, make her rotten!"

Karin rolled her eyes and continued on eating as Danny and Sam, oblivious to the taunts, talked more and more. Danny was shocked at how easy it was to talk to her; she wasn't biting with her differences. She accepted that he thought a certain way, just as he felt the same for her. In a way, he felt it was almost comical when the two disagreed. Sam's outraged groan, shaking her head and putting her hands over her eyes. Her little pleas of "please tell me you're joking!" or "I accept you feel that way, even if I don't agree." And that flash of that wicked, cute, horribly adorable little grin.

Dinner ended, and the group had three more hours until it was lights out. Danny grabbed his notebook, meaning to work on some of his more complicated pieces of homework.

Sam jeered at him. "You're going to do homework?"

Danny rolled his eyes at her, already feeling as close to her as if they had been friends for years, not merely four hours. "Yeah. You see, Sam, when you get into fifth grade, things get really difficult." And when you're fighting ghosts half the time during the classes, it doesn't make class work and homework any easier!

She hoisted herself up on the ledge by the window and gazed at his notebook. She laughed at the scribbles of equations for his math class, and laughed even harder at his doodles. "I see you pay much attention in class."

He grinned impishly. "Well, I guess I do. I pay attention to drawing, at least."

Taking the pencil from his hands, she balanced it on her upper lip, crossing her eyes to look at it. She giggled at how the pencil quivered slightly. Danny felt a twist in his heart at how adorable the action was, but quickly stifled the thought and feeling. She was twelve, for chris'sake! He couldn't like her, not with the two year age difference between them.

The time flew by in an almost comical blur, making their time together seem as if it were mere seconds. Finally night fell and he headed towards the hallway. One side of the hallway was for girls, the other boys. They stood at her room (his room was further back) and stared at each other.

"Bye," she said weakly, as if she were experiencing the overwhelming sense of loneliness that he was feeling at the mere prospect of leaving each other. He hugged her tightly.

"Tomorrow's Saturday—we can hang out all day, okay?" He was about to hit himself over the head as he heard the whine, the beg, the plead in his voice. He expected her to stare at her strangely and exclaim something like "why would I wanna hang out with you," but he was surprised by her reaction.

"Okay!" she shouted, giving him a quick squeeze. She barely grazed his nose, resulting in him getting an unexpected mouthful of hair. He hugged her back, smiling into her hair and feeling sick just knowing he'd have to wait eight or more hours to see her again.

How was it possible that in merely four, five, six hours, the two had grown as close as they would have been if they had known each other all their lives?