So these oneshots are actually turning out a lot shorter than what I though they were gonna be. The next few are also pretty short, sorry about that. But don't worry, I'll try to have a long one in at some point or another.

Disclaimer: Don't own DP or the original idea for the AU

Danny was screwed. Royally screwed.

He already knew he was screwed of course, but he was in for it now. Just four little words that had doomed his fate. Four completely innocent words that shouldn't have any ramifications in a normal person (but Danny wasn't normal and he hadn't been for about two weeks give or take): "Pass the salt, Danny."

"Um," he racked his brain for a logical response that didn't involve ghosts. He got nothing. "Uh, I don't think we have any more." Not bad for a three second excuse.

"Really? I could have sworn I put some in there this morning." Danny's mom frowned at him, "Could you check, just to be sure. I don't want to make a trip to the store in the middle of dinner only to find out I didn't have to."

Crap, "Um, I could do that but I, uh, I can't-it would be better if-it's just that-."

"Danny burned his hand," Jazz said, coming to his rescue without knowing she was rescuing him. It was true, he had burned his hand, but that had happened three days ago and it had healed almost instantly (a handy perk of having ghost powers that cause random objects to fly at your face: they don't leave a bruise for long). It had also happened while he was in ghost form, so how could Jazz..? "He burned his hand earlier today when he was messing around in the kitchen while I was making an omelet and the salt would only aggravate it, if there is any salt in there at all. I'll check," his sister smiled at him as she reached across the table and grabbed the salt shaker.

Danny winced as she shook a bit into her palm. He'd gained the uncanny ability to feel when harmful things were around, like iron bars or ghost shields. It was like something was tickling his mind with a razor blade; definitely not a pleasant experience. Still it was better than the awful rash he would have gotten if he'd actually touched the salt. That would have sucked.

Jazz wiped off her hand and handed the shaker to Mom. "Looks like it wasn't empty after all. Weird, huh?"

Their mom took the salt shaker and gave Danny a stern look, "Danny, you need to be more careful, okay sweetie? Next time you hurt yourself just come to me and I'll patch you right up."

"Mom, I'm not three; I can take care of myself."

"No matter how old you are, you're still my little boy," She blew Danny a kiss from across the table and he pretended to vomit. On the inside, though, he was thanking his lucky stars. Crisis averted, at least for now, all thanks to Jazz. Maybe he should tell her about what mulled this over in his mind for a moment.

Nah, not worth it.