A/N: Butch Hartman owns DP, not me. *sad face*

It was inevitable, of course, that someone would notice the amount of scars he was collecting left and right. True, the fact that he was part ghost somehow equated to him having some pretty decent healing abilities (probably because when he was in ghost form, he was technically dead, and thus it didn't affect his human form…or something), but eventually they would either notice or something would scar in a very visible place.

Which is why he was trying to explain to Lancer about the long, pale line just under the curve of his chin, stretching from his ear to halfway across his throat, that Lancer hadn't noticed until today. It was from an attack by some ghost – he couldn't even remember which one now, there had been too many, and it had probably been quite a while, to boot – but Danny couldn't exactly come out and say that, now could he?

"Daniel, that was not caused by fiddling with a post-it note and getting a paper cut underneath your chin – which sounds completely ridiculous anyway, if you must know!" Lancer said, shaking his head in slight disbelief that the teenager would think that he'd even believe that in the first place. "If you're going to lie, at least try to make it somewhat believable—"

The teacher cut himself off and hit his forehead with his palm. "I'm supposed to be encouraging kids not to lie, not encouraging them to tell better lies!"

Danny blew out a frustrated breath. It was always especially hard to spin a good tale when you didn't even know how something had happened in the first place…

"Fine," he said, shifting his backpack so that it rested more comfortably on his back. "Sam and I were mock-fighting one time – Tucker was on the sidelines – and she accidentally caught me there with her nails. It started bleeding, we cleaned it up, and I guess it scarred. I never noticed."

Lancer shook his head again. "You honestly expect me to believe that you have a scar like that because of Samantha's nails?"

"Hey, you've seen what Paulina can do with hers when she's pissed!" Danny protested. "Besides," he drawled, somewhat amused at the (actually somewhat truthful) statement he was about to speak. "Sam doesn't cut her nails – she sharpens them."

Lancer slumped in his seat, defeated. "For some reason I can't bring myself to disagree with you on that one…very well, Daniel, you may go."

"Thanks," Danny said quickly, immediately moving towards the door. It was Friday, after all.

"Oh, and Daniel?" Lancer called after him. The teenager turned and looked at him questioningly. "Do try to finish your homework this weekend…and stay away from your friends' nails…"

With a rather mocking salute and a cheery, "Sir, yes, sir!" the teenager left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Lancer sighed and leaned forward, rubbing his temples. He really wished young Daniel would stop lying to him, and to everyone else. He didn't know what the teenager was doing – he wasn't sure he wanted to – but he was concerned, and if this continued for too much longer, he would definitely need to get the parents involved.

'Well,' he thought, looking out the window and watching as three figures walked side-by-side down the road, playfully pushing against each other and laughing, 'at least he has some good friends he can count on…'

A/N: OH MY GOD I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME A MONTH TO ACTUALLY POST SOMETHING NEW! I'm a horrible person! *starts crying*

This was inspired because one of my friends actually did scrape me with a one of her nails one time, and it scarred...it was on my hand, though. But seriously, that was in October or November or something, and it's still here.