Looking In: Pamela

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Pale delicate hands moved across the dark black desk with precision. The place was a mess and it needed tidying whether the inhabitant chose to do so or not, it would be cleaned. She smiled, her family often joked that she had over compulsive disorder but she just liked to clean up, for herself.

Sure the money they had could easily afford around the clock maids but she was too proud to ever use them. Besides she thought as far as the household went it was much safer under her touch. She was an excellent housekeeper. She needed something to occupy her time anyway.

Pulling some red hair away from her face she started putting some of the black books into a neat little pile. She tried to ignore the dreary titles and the scary looking men that graced the cover of her daughter's magazines. She wondered why she couldn't enjoy the normal aspects that most sixteen year olds do. And although she would never agree with the things she had she often was tempted just to pick p one of those books and read it.

But she had more important things to do, like put some of those clothes in their proper settings. She picked up the once neat pile of clean clothes that lay on the floor and began to hang up the pants, skirts, and tops in the closet. She grimaced at some of the corsets that girl owned but was glad that at least she maintained some girl-like qualities to her attire.

The red head sighed looking at the big gray box that held all the clothes she used to try to get her daughter to wear. Her Samantha, who liked to be called Sam, was not the little girl of her dreams. But she still thought the world of her and was so proud of the girl, whether or not she wore pink and won beauty pageants.

She was a strong minded girl of her own and never ever submitted. Now she only ever pushed her daughter to assure that Sam was keeping her morals her main priority. She just couldn't put into words how much she admired that girl, in all her ways. Whether or not they agreed the loved each other.

Skimming over towards the large black iron framed bed Pamela stopped at the bedside table and looked over the picture adorning it. A steel picture frame with raves surrounded Sam's favorite picture of her and her two best friends. Tucker Foley and Danny Fenton. She really didn't approve of the fact that she spent all her time with the opposite sex, she didn't believe it was good for her.

But then that Jazz Fenton was often spotted around them too. She sighed, she and her husband absolutely disregarded the Fenton's, the parents and the children, well to be fair mostly Danny. She wondered why Sam never noticed what she noticed, something was wrong with that kid.

Sure as far as it seemed it just came from a weird family, but the bruises, the cuts, the nervousness. Everyone in town suspected something about him. At first she believed he was a bad influence on her daughter, thinking his family's ghost obsession made her the gothic fanatic she was. But now it just seemed he was troubled and neglected.

She sat gently on the edge of the bed and held the picture up for further inspection. She locked eyes with the grinning Danny as he stood happily with her daughter. She wasn't sure if she hated him or if it was just a matter of mistrust. Another thing concerned the mother, her Sammy was starting to exhibit the same wounds he has, he wasn't abusing her was he? But she saw no reason that he would, they weren't together as they had clearly defended over and over.

She dispelled the idea quickly. If he was she knew that Tucker would do something to help her. She and Jeremy thought the world of Tucker, he was a sweet boy who always stood by Sam when Danny seemed to have left them. She'd seen him ease her pain and help her shake her fears. She didn't understand why Sammy just couldn't date him instead.

But as much as Sam denied her affection for Danny, the mother knew it was there. As a push over for romance she would normally get excited and help her daughter win over her crush, but as a parent she wouldn't let her get caught up in something that seemed dangerous and questionable.

Pam placed the picture down on the table top and walked over to the large window that had a good view of the street below. She opened the window to let some fresh air into the room, it seemed to be the only nice thing she could let in without Sam putting back out. She gazed out the window just enjoying the fresh spring air and the silence of the street.

In the corner of her eye she saw two moving objects rush towards the house. They were two figures that she knew well. Her daughter and the delinquent. Both seemingly tired and slightly ruffled.

"Right on time!" Sam exclaimed looking at her watch. "Looks like I'll be able to catch that movie with you guys tomorrow after all. You gonna make it?"

"Duh." He replied cockily. "Don't worry."

She smiled at him happily and Pam watched with interest as they stood close by each other just staring. There was no doubt in her mind that they felt something there. Danny's eyes snapped away from Sam and looked behind her.

"Sam!" He shouted and pushed her out of the way using his body as a shield. There was a light and a yelp and a heavy thud.

The mother could hardly process the event but she knew what happened somehow as she stared down at the boy lying on the ground her daughter sitting half dazed a few inches away. He had saved her, it wasn't believable but he had protected her without a second thought.

She made a quick grab for the purple phone sitting on her daughter's desk and quickly entered the digits for help. She spoke quickly and was never quite sure of what she was saying. From the window she could hear her daughter wailing. Before she knew it she was racing downstairs to meet them. She grabbed the handle of the door and flung it open and saw Sam's eyes snap up to her.

"Mother?" Pamela Manson knew that her daughter wasn't shocked to see her and wouldn't be shocked to know she summoned help. No she knew that Sam was taken aback because the one and only Pamela Manson was crying for Danny Fenton.

...because...you know there's no explanation. As you can see I did some "spring cleaning" with that At Random set, because there were some stories I couldn't stand any longer. I believe the saying goes "I've had all I can stand and I can't stands no more" or something like that. The only annoying thing is the reviews are forever damned to a sloppy mess of doom...but that doesn't faze me as much. 'nough said.