Authors Note: I've been editing this thing to death. At this point it's probably much worse than it originally was, ironically. This is part one of a two part chapter, so the next update will only be a few days to a week away. Also: this was hard to write. That doesn't mean it's well written, but there was stuff in here that represented a huge hump I needed to get past in this story. (Eh...if you haven't noticed, I've been really slow about updating. -_-)
I need to give a special thank-you to E-Dantes, for reading through an earlier version of this, and giving great advice- plus, for not running away screaming. Thank you, my friend!
Previous Chapter:
"You realized…? What?" His voice was part growl.
But she needed to say this.
"I realized he is…he's more than just…a ghost."
Danny's arm dropped away, and after a long moment Jazz risked another glance at his face. It was hard, his jaw clenched. He was staring adamantly at the wall.
"He's not you. But he's still, he's almost like…" She couldn't finish, and ended up not getting the chance in any case.
Danny stood straight up. "Like what? What? Like family? Like your brother?"
Then he strode to the door, opened it, stepped out, and slammed it behind him, not looking back at her once.
Chapter 32, Part 1
A Little Therapy Can Heal the Soul
"Hey Jazz." Sam let the older girl slip in through her bedroom door, closing it after her.
"Hey." Jazz gave her a weirdly sheepish grin.
The grin brought out Jazz's resemblance to Danny, but since Jazz was such an incredibly confident person the semi-apologetic look felt, well...weird. Of course, Jazz had also apparently timed her surprise visit to occur when both Danny and Tucker were busy, which suggested she was here for something more serious- and private- than a friendly chat. So maybe the uncomfortable look was warranted. Or Sam was being a tad paranoid: the latest fiasco, with Nathaniel getting whisked away to the Ghost Zone, had only happened last week, after all.
Jazz broke the brief silence. "Thanks for letting me come over, Sam."
"No problem." Sam smiled tentatively. She gestured for Jazz to follow, and searched for something to say to relieve the somewhat tense atmosphere as they they headed over to the sitting chairs by her bedroom window. "I'm glad you're here. I...don't exactly get a lot of girl time."
That elicited a genuine smile from Jazz. Their relationship was positive and relatively strong, but had never been established as something separate from Danny. Girl time definitely suggested an upgrade.
But almost immediately that sheepish grin was back again, and as they both sat Jazz glanced around in a way that struck Sam as downright nervous. Her eyes landed on the playpen. "So...where's Nathaniel?"
Sam nodded slightly toward the playpen, as if to confirm Jazz's unspoken guess. "He's asleep. Out like a rock."
Jazz's voice came out in a surprised chirp. "Wow. He was so noisy earlier!" That had only been fifteen minutes ago, when Jazz had called asking to come over.
Sam smiled lopsidedly, hopeful that the older girl was starting to relax. "Yeah...he goes from hyperactive to crashed out most afternoons."
Jazz smiled back, but the moment was gone and the look was clearly forced. "Um, so...how's the little guy liking the new setup?"
Okay...Jazz was searching for small talk! That was just wrong. She never spent this long being uncertain about...practically anything these days. Jazz might mull things over, take her time to decide about something- but sitting around being awkward like this just wasn't in her nature. It probably meant one thing: that she really was here about something serious- and something hard for her to talk about. There weren't many subjects like that for Jazz.
Sam let out a silent sigh. She honestly liked Danny's sister, which hadn't been the case a few years back. Over time Jazz had become Sam's proof that being feminine, popular, and wearing preppy clothes didn't by default make you shallow, ditsy, or boy obsessed. And conversely, being a Goth (not that Sam had pushed the Goth thing lately) didn't make you a satan worshiper, or a high school drop-out.
Sam had learned that it took a long time to know someone well at all, and Jasmine Fenton was someone worth getting to know well. So if Jazz needed a little small talk to help her calm down and feel welcome, well...Sam could totally do that. Besides, Nathaniel was an awesome subject.
"Nathan loves the freedom." Sam grinned, and got up to head toward the playpen. "You should see the look on his face when I pull out the wristband! I hardly use it now. With the shield, he can literally bounce off the walls if he wants..." Sam petered out, doing a double take as she glanced back at Jazz, who was following her.
"Jazz?"
Jazz was mildly appalled, but wiped the look off her face, and lowered her eyes to look at Sam's still very small child, instead. "Er...nothing." Never mind about how...really unsafe that sounds! It's time to get to the point, Jazz.
Sam was about to continue on about Nathaniel when she caught the serious, inwardly focused look on Jazz's face. It pulled Sam up short. The older girl was broadcasting the need for silence, so Sam decided to give it to her. Whatever Jazz had really come here for- she was preparing to say it.
Sam studied her son as she waited for her. Nathaniel was fast asleep, splayed out, with one arm circled around a plushie that looked just like a shiny universal remote control; a gift Tucker had picked up for him a few weeks ago. It was ridiculous, and completely adorable. Nathaniel obviously liked it.
Sam tilted her head, smiling softly. There was something deeply relaxing about watching her son sleep. He wasn't dreaming right now; there was only his quiet, regular breathing, and an inherent trust in the safety of the world around him...
Then Jazz took a deep breath as if to speak, and Sam steeled herself, prepared to hear about something that might damage the safety of that world- not that she could truly pretend that Nathaniel had ever been safe.
"The truth is, there's something I need to talk to you about...you know, while Danny's at work."
Sam looked up. "Yeah?"
Jazz's eyes were serious. Those nerves of steel had finally returned, though a hint of something lingered. "Has Danny told you about any unusual letters lately?"
Sam's mind shifted gears almost instantly, as she thought of the note from Dan that had come with the playpen's replacements a few days ago. Her protectiveness, already touched off, shifted from Nathaniel to Danny. He had been so incredibly upset after reading that little note...
"Well, we...both read the note together that came a few days ago."
Jazz paused, caught by surprise. "What note?"
Sam stared at her for a moment, nonplussed. She had assumed that Jazz had talked to Danny, and that maybe he had opened up to her about that note- and why it made him so upset. Which would have meant that Jazz was here to tell Sam about something he had said that Jazz felt she needed to know about, but that Danny didn't want her to know about...or not, obviously.
Sam wasn't even sure why she had assumed all that, come to think of it.
She answered Jazz's question. "Instructions came a few days ago. With the replacements?" Sam tapped the top of the playpen lightly to make her point. "I thought maybe Danny told you because they were written by...Dan."
Jazz stared at her. "Oh..."
"Here..." Sam walked to her desk, opened a drawer, rummaged, and headed back over after a moment with a folded piece of paper.
"This is the only letter I know about and like I said, it's more...just a set of instructions." Sam handed it to Jazz, one eyebrow raised. "You probably guessed from how he helped in the Ghost Zone, but if not...it's pretty clear that Dan's living with Vlad now. Danny even went to check on Vlad earlier, and...um." Sam dropped off to let Jazz read the note, and headed back to her chair to sit down again. As she waited for Jazz, Sam tried not to brood...noticeably.
Jazz tailed slowly after her. She finally sat as well, glancing between Sam and the note.
"Danny went to visit Vlad?"
"Yeah. Really early in the morning, after we got Nathaniel back. To check on him, I think." Sam raised a sardonic eyebrow. "He didn't exactly tell me. I asked him about Vlad later that day. I had a feeling, because...I noticed that Danny left for a while. He...said Vlad was okay." Sam frowned softly, a faraway look in her eyes. "But he...something really threw him off. I think he saw Dan there too."
Jazz sat silent for a long moment, thinking. "Sam, I know I'm Danny's big sister, but you read him better than anybody." You would've held off on telling him about the letter, unlike me...
Something in Jazz's voice caught Sam's ear, and she looked at her for a moment, trying to read her. But Jazz wasn't looking up, instead choosing to keep her eyes on the note, now in her lap.
Sam gave up, and looked away, trying to fight the unhappy feeling that threatened to steal over her. "Well, if Dan was at Vlad's, they didn't get into a fight, at least. That's an improvement." She propped one foot up on her chair as she had earlier, and rested her chin on her knee.
Jazz set the letter on the reading table beside her. "You sound like you want them to get along...Danny and Dan, I mean."
Sam looked out the window, to avoid eye contact. "I...suppose I do."
The quiet, emotionally distant tone in Sam's voice caused something to click in Jazz's mind. She suddenly remembered an important thing; something that she had been putting off for a long time because...
Because it was so hard to deal with. Just thinking about it caused her heart rate to pick up slightly, and turned her hands a little sweaty.
Ever since they had found Sam in Idaho and the story about her disappearance had come out, Jazz had promised herself that she would talk to Sam about what had happened to her. Then she had struggled on and off to keep that promise. Jazz was just so close to everything, and even though she was currently training to do just this: to help people who had experienced trauma, they would be patients. Strangers.
The meeting with Clockwork was looming in the back of her mind too; what she had learned about Dan. A nasty, almost overwhelming feeling came with it...
Jazz felt guilty. And for once, she refused to analyze why. It was enough to acknowledge that she was afraid to talk with Sam about the trauma she had suffered. And that was shameful. How could she be such a coward, and at Sam's expense?
Who else did Sam have to talk to? Her parents? No. Tucker? Danny? No, that was just...unimaginable.
Jazz couldn't run from this anymore. She needed to set this right. It wasn't really why she had come here today, but then...she didn't know if she'd find the courage to do this again.
So she squared her shoulders, and looked Sam in the eye. Then immediately looked down at her hands instead.
No. Look at her, Jazz.
Jazz looked up again. "Sam, I meant to say this a while back, and the...the opportunity never, kind of...arose. But I..." Jazz leaned over, putting her hand over Sam's. "If you need to talk about what...what happened to you, I am here for you. It can be healing, and it might help you to be..."
A wave of shock rippled through Sam, and Jazz felt the other girl's hand turn into a claw of tension, just before it was yanked away.
"Woah." Sam's voice was transformed, harsh with suppressed emotion. There was a long beat of painful silence. Jazz couldn't open her mouth, let alone speak. She was trapped by Sam's shocked, deeply offended stare.
"Woah. Just...no, Jazz." Sam finally looked away, her mouth a tight line.
Jazz somehow managed to find her voice again. It was desperate, and yes, sounded closer to tears than she wanted to admit. But she absolutely had to say this, mortified or not.
Her words came out a mile a minute. "Look, Sam, I'm just saying that counseling has been shown to help a lot with this kind of trauma, and that holding it in, or i-ignoring it and not dealing with it can be very b..."
Sam set her leg down with a thump, and leaned forward. Her voice was nearly a yell. "Is that what you came here for? Because if it is I think you need to leave."
Jazz put her hands up placatingly, fingers shaking slightly from adrenaline, and sped up even more. "Sam, please, I'm sorry. I just felt you needed to know, if you ever needed to talk about it, someone's here, a-another female, and I'm..."
Sam was standing over her now, hands balled into fists. "You're Danny's sister!"
Jazz hunched in her chair, hands still up. "I know..." Her voice petered out, and her face fell completely.
Sam's words sank in. Wham, the guilt slammed into Jazz like a physical blow.
"I'm...sorry Sam. I'm so s-sorry..." Jazz didn't even know what she was saying anymore. She just knew she was horribly guilty. Responsible. She should have prevented it somehow; this was something she could've fixed, somehow!
Sam backed up suddenly, and started pacing violently back and forth. "You know...you know...!"
Jazz stared up at her, miserable, wiping at her already wet face. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to be so unprofessional...
Sam finally rounded on her, tears in her eyes, yelling outright. "You're so stupid! You psychiatrist types are ridiculous! As if you talking it out with me would help anything! You know what? Congratulations! You made me cry. Happy? That seems to be the main goal of everybody in your field- make your victim feel worse! Then you get to watch them in pain, smiling your creepy, oh-so-NOT helpful smiles! Like you actually help anything! You're parasites!" Sam turned away, storming to the other side of the room, past Nathaniel's pen. She stood there, arms crossed, breathing heavily.
Jazz just sat, as what Sam just said reverberated in her mind. She didn't bother to wipe her face anymore, letting tears trail down it. She whimpered quietly to herself.
Minutes passed by. Slowly, slowly, they both got control over themselves.
Sam walked hesitantly back over. She looked down at Jazz, eyes red rimmed but dry.
"You're...not a parasite. At all."
Jazz stared up at her. Then she stood up, face crumpling, and hugged Sam to her. "I'm sorry Sam, I'm so sorry..."
Sam let Jazz hug her. A moment passed, and Sam tried to say it was okay, that she didn't need to feel guilty. But Jazz sobbing away on her shoulder was doing something to her...
Before Sam realized what she was doing, before she could begin to stop the flow...words began spilling out. Secrets. Dark moments, memories she never imagined sharing with anyone, and even thoughts she hadn't really acknowledged until this moment...
Suddenly she was leaning on Jazz's shoulder, and it was the only thing keeping her standing. Sam buried her face there, hugging Jazz for dear life, and spoke through her tears, through a deep pain that caused her shoulders to quiver and shake.
She told about how terrified she'd been, how she had screamed and yelled and nothing had helped. How fighting him was like fighting against a rock. There was nothing you could do, nothing someone that strong couldn't do to you. How...
How, even terrified as she was, she still hadn't cried in outright fear, or begged. She had held on with everything she had to her bravado, to her anger and indignation. She had been in denial to the bitter end that someone would save her, or that somehow he would stop, would realize he had no right...
But maybe, if she had given in and put her hands together, and begged him not to...maybe...maybe if she had...it would've gone differently.
And she wouldn't feel so guilty now.
It was nonsensical. It was stupid, pathetic. To blame herself in any way, as if- as if her emotional state had been the real problem! But there it was. And now she was letting it all out on Jazz's shoulder.
By the time those last words came out, her voice was a choked whisper.
"...m-maybe if he'd only seen how terrified I was..."
Finally, with that last thought voiced, the need to confess finally died. Sam clung to Jazz for another long minute, quietly crying herself out.
The understanding came slowly that there was absolutely no one else's shoulder she could've cried on. Not about this. It couldn't be Tucker. It could not be Danny...
Sam's tears started up again; a new wave. Jazz began stroking her hair, almost like Sam's mother did sometimes. Maybe it was just something women instinctively did, but it made Sam feel better. She finally sighed, as the latest wave of tears began to die down.
Jazz spoke gently. "It's not your fault." She sniffled, and kept stroking Sam's hair. "It's not your fault, Sam. Okay? It's...a really common thing, the victim feeling like they're the problem, like they did something wrong. No. It's not your fault. Don't second guess things. Maybe you could've spontaneously developed ghost powers and flown away, or you could've somehow been somewhere else, or...whatever. It's just...It doesn't matter. There's always a what-if. But you were powerless. Do you understand? There was nothing you could have done. Nothing. And it was not your fault." Jazz let out a long sigh. "Just like...it wasn't my fault."
She slowly stopped stroking Sam's hair. "Right?"
Sam stood for a long moment, her breathing still a little unsteady. But she finally pulled back, slowly, still holding onto Jazz's shoulders, and managed a shaky shrug, as if to say 'life, what can you do?' Sam added an equally shaky smile, and pulled away a little more. She probably owed Jazz a new shirt, with all the crying she had just done, but for once didn't feel embarrassed about her tears.
She needed this.
Before Sam could pull completely away, Jazz grabbed her hand, squeezing it.
"You know, if you ever need a hug, I'm here. Or just...a girl's day out." Jazz smiled, her gentle eyes shining through her wet eyelashes. "And, you know...I think I need a lot of hugging, which is probably why I'm always offering them...so, really, any time..."
Sam couldn't stop the swell of emotion, and before she knew it she had Jazz in another tight hug, partly to hide the intense, pain filled smile stretched across her face.
Thank you, Jazz.
Sam's voice still had a slight wobble when she finally spoke. "You...can count on it."
They both broke apart after another long moment, and started wiping their faces. Sam rolled her eyes and broke into an embarrassed laugh. "Come on, let's get the salt out of our eyes."
Half an hour later saw them back in Sam's sitting chairs, each sipping a mug of hot cocoa. It was something neither girl drank very often, but the warmth and the sweet, rich taste was soothing and very welcome just then. Jazz now wore a dark, baggy, and very comfortable over sized t-shirt. It felt right, just like the cocoa.
For a few minutes they both sat enjoying their drinks in silence. It was amazing how the air had changed between them. There was no reason to fill that space with words just yet.
Sam found that incredibly comforting. It was one of those intangible qualities she had sought in people for years; someone she could share silence with. She had found that quality in Danny and Tucker. Now she had Jazz, too.
Sam let her eyes wander the room, as that thought settled. The emotional outpouring earlier did make her feel a little vulnerable now, but it was a subtle feeling, and mostly she felt surprisingly...cleansed. Lighter, as though a weight had been removed from her shoulders- one she hadn't realized until then that she had been carrying. She had Jazz to thank for that.
Sam knew they still needed to talk about the letter Jazz had mentioned earlier; it was the reason she had come over, and probably contained something Sam needed to know. And yeah...maybe something that would also make their lives a little more dangerous.
But she didn't need to bring that up just yet. Maybe they could pretend for a few minutes that...this was just girl time. Sam smiled softly, then remembered something in their conversation from earlier that had peaked her attention.
"Hey Jazz, what was with that look earlier?" Sam smiled, and quirked an eyebrow upward. "You know, when I was talking about Nathan liking the new set-up...?"
Jazz stared over, her already big eyes widening slightly. She had her legs curled up underneath her, and held her mug of cocoa in both hands, warming them with it.
"Oh, um...you mean when you mentioned him bouncing off the walls?" She sounded a little embarrassed.
"Yup. You looked pretty shocked." Sam didn't bother to keep the amusement out of her voice, "Go ahead, say it. You think I'm crazy."
There was a slight pause, then Jazz responded rather meekly. "Well...it's just he's so tiny." She looked down, into her mug. "He's not even a year old yet."
Jazz was obviously worried about this. Sam snorted softly, and decided to let her in on a little secret.
"Do you know what I was doing when you called today?"
Jazz smiled a little at the open, amused look on Sam's face. "No...but you sounded pretty strained..."
Sam's smile grew. "Okay, try to picture this, Jazz: I was on the bed, crouching, arms up, ready to spring like some crazed volleyball player so I could keep Nathan directly above me at all times. Until he came close enough for me to safely grab, anyway..."
Jazz's eyes had gotten wide again.
It made Sam just a tad embarrassed. "What I mean is, I'm really not okay with him bouncing off the walls...which he doesn't really do, obviously. I mean, he gets a little shock if he touches a wall when he's in ghost mode..."
Jazz was biting her lip now, not exactly comforted by this knowledge. "But, when did he start flying, anyway? I mean, if he can get up high, out of your reach...it just sounds so dangerous, what if he changed..."
Sam shrugged, her own fears about Nathaniel falling flaring up a little. "He's done some hovering before, kind of tentatively...but since the Ghost Zone...I don't know, maybe he got a lesson from Vlad, or something..." Sam glowered, then rolled her eyes, letting the aggravation go. Vlad had likely saved his life, after all. "Flying is just...a game he plays with Danny. But now that he's not here all day and night, Nathan's trying to get me to play..." Sam gave a slightly exasperated smile. "You don't know real fear until your infant is hovering just out of reach, eight feet off the ground, giggling at you..."
Jazz frowned softly. "Don't you think you should use the wristband more...? Maybe he hates it, but if he fell..." Jazz paused, searching for the right words. "Doesn't he ever lose control?"
"You mean like Danny did at first...?" But as Sam said it, she remembered that Jazz hadn't really been part of that process.
Jazz was frowning uncertainly. "I..."
Sam pushed forward, wishing she hadn't brought that up. "Er, not really. He..." Sam paused to think about it. There hadn't been any real scares, mostly because Nathaniel had mostly stuck to trying to play that game with Danny, and Danny was lightning fast, unlike Sam. Any movement that hinted at a tumble or a fall, and he was there. Nathaniel tried to engage Sam sometimes, but he seemed to understand that she just couldn't interact with him like Danny did.
"He doesn't really do too much to freak me out, Jazz." Sam smiled lopsidedly. "I mean, he's a halfa. I can't pretend he's a normal kid. And I won't...stifle his development. Which makes the wristband a last resort."
Jazz still looked unhappy.
"Jazz..." Sam ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "If you leave that thing on long enough, he transforms instantly when you take it off. And he hates that. I hate that. So...I'm leaving it off as much as I can. Which means...I have to hover under him sometimes. And he's even transformed a couple of times and gotten zapped by the shield. By accident. Slightly. But!" Sam put a hand up to forestall Jazz's distressed response. "It's definitely surprised him a few times, and he doesn't like it. But he hasn't even cried over it once, and he's catching on. He's being more careful about when and where he transforms. And he avoids touching the walls and ceiling when he flies. Which is a good thing. I mean...he has to start controlling himself. We can't rely on the wristband when he's older."
"But..."
"Listen, Danny is sure he could short the wristband out, if he pushed it enough. Which means Nathaniel will be able to, someday. Maybe earlier than we think. Besides, he's not dumb. He'll just figure a way out of the thing eventually."
Jazz finally gave a slight nod, seeing where Sam was going. She spoke slowly. "And if he gets into the habit of paying attention to his ghost powers now..."
Sam nodded. "It'll be easier when he's older. Exactly. I mean, he's not like Danny. He...," She smirked a little, "His mom knows about his powers and thinks they're awesome. And they're...more a part of who he is. It's going to be hard for him to understand why keeping them hidden from the world is really important."
Jazz leaned back, crossing her arms, a look of resigned understanding on her face. "Well, you've definitely thought this through."
Sam leaned back too, and raised her eyebrows. "Wouldn't you?"
Jazz hesitated for a moment, and Sam frowned slightly, waiting for her to say something. The moment drew out, becoming slightly uncomfortable.
"But...well...aren't you worried he'll fall?" Jazz looked positively plaintive.
Sam couldn't stop herself from laughing out loud. Clearly Jazz was having trouble moving away from that point. "Yes! It totally freaks me out, Jazz! That's why I follow him around, arms up in the air!"
Jazz finally smiled back, though that protective look still lingered in her eyes.
Sam went on, slightly exasperated. "No kidding! And don't think I don't have Danny on speed dial! I would have been calling him if Nathaniel had stayed up there much longer today..." Sam let out a long breath of air, resisting the powerful urge to roll her eyes.
Oy vey, Jazz.
After a moment she relaxed again, crossing her legs, and took a sip of her cocoa. "He actually prefers to fly when Danny's around, so it mostly works out." She pursed her lips, suddenly grumpy. "Jazz, can you imagine a few years from now? When he's done something wrong he'll be just out of reach, hovering up by the ceiling..."
Jazz interrupted, grinning. "Not for long! You'll grab Danny, then he'll be in trouble..."
They shared a smile that ended quickly. Sam cleared her throat.
"Yeah." It came out sounding timid. Sure, Danny was already here a lot, but...time could change things. And him being near, like maybe in the same house with her, a few years from now...
Sam found herself thinking of Jazz as a maid of honor, and tried not to blush.
Jazz spoke. "So...is he always asleep right about now?"
Sam was nonplussed. "Er...I don't... He's at work right now, isn't he?" A long moment passed as she caught on and her cheeks slowly turned red. "Except you meant Nathaniel...of course."
Jazz covered an unstoppable grin with her mug, not trusting herself to answer just yet. Sam was so sweet! If there was one thing she was transparent about, it was her feelings for Danny...who had somehow been clueless for years. Proof that boys matured less quickly than girls, Jazz supposed. But it was so nice to finally see them together.
Still, Jazz didn't want to embarrass Sam, who was still tomato red. "So I guess Nathan's been out for almost an hour now, right?"
"Right..." They both paused for a moment. It felt so much longer than that. Sam went on after a long moment, her embarrassment forgotten. "Actually, he'll probably wake up any minute, come to think of it."
That sobered them both up, as though an unspoken deadline had been imposed. The real reason for Jazz's visit came flooding back.
Sam took a deep breath, saying a silent goodbye to 'girl time.' "So I take it that...probably Dan sent a letter I haven't seen. And that Danny already read it." She took a sip of her cocoa. "Right?"
Jazz accidentally gulped from her own mug, and coughed twice. She cleared her throat, and nodded one, eyebrows drawn together. "Exactly right." She blinked a few times, clearing the water that had formed in her eyes after nearly choking on her cocoa. "I guess I gave that away earlier...?"
Sam grinned briefly, and took another sip of cocoa. It hadn't been very much of a stretch. "So. Tell me all the grisly details, Jazz."
Jazz stared at her, uncertain, and tried to read her.
"You know..." Jazz stopped herself. Offering to put this off was silly. Sam was asking, which meant she wanted to know. And besides, she already knew there was a letter, and waiting to read it later would only give her more time to worry over what was in it. And it was why Jazz had come over here in the first place.
So she reached down next to her chair, where she had set her purse a while back. "Actually, I brought it with me. You can read it right now, if you want..." Jazz slowly pulled out the envelope sent by "Dimitri". She frowned down at it.
"I should apologize, Sam. You're the last person to find out about this. It kind of slipped out with Danny a few days ago, and Tucker knew weeks ago." Jazz finally looked up again. "I convinced Tucker to wait, to give you guys some time..."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "So...if Danny hadn't found out, we wouldn't be having this conversation, right?" She took a sip of cocoa, then broke off hurriedly at Jazz's mildly stricken look. "It's okay, Jazz. It's called a joke. You're forgiven." Sam frowned over at the other girl. "Danny...really put you through the ringer over this, didn't he?"
Jazz stared down at her cocoa, held in one hand, the letter still in the other. "Sort of, yeah. We haven't really talked in a few days, actually." Sam could see the hurt in Jazz's eyes.
Sam set her mug down, and propped her chin up with the same hand. She stared over at Jazz. "You know he'll get over it, right?"
Jazz smiled half heartedly, and shrugged. "Yeah. I just...don't want to make you upset at me too."
"Well...I can't promise I won't be. But my guess is Danny overreacted just a little." Sam smiled encouragingly, and held out a hand. "Let me see it."
Jazz handed Sam the letter, frowning softly. "It's...Dan apologizes in it. And he talks about living with Vlad, and promises to, you know, not be a sociopath any more."
Sam's eyebrows went up. So he was staying with Vlad after all. "What about Vlad? Did he promise too?"
Jazz grinned, caught by surprise. "I'm sure his letter's on the way."
Sam grinned too, and snorted in disbelief. She reached into the envelope a little absently, and accidentally dislodged something, which fell to her lap. It was a newspaper clip. She slowly picked it up, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the picture of Dan and Vlad.
It was rather shocking. Even with the suit, the goatee, and a ponytail...Sam had to remind herself that this wasn't Danny. And knowing who it really was...it pushed Sam right out of her comfort zone. She closed her eyes, and just sat for a moment.
No amount of hot cocoa was going to make this easy.
Sam opened her eyes, pointedly avoiding the photo, and read the news story that accompanied it. Dimitri Mihailov. Sam had to wonder at that. Did Vlad actually have roots in some eastern European country? Or had he faked "Dimitri's" entire background? It would be easier for them to avoid trouble if he kept Dan's cover story as realistic as possible, so Sam guessed it was the former.
Which begged the question of whether Vlad had...Transylvanian roots, for instance. Sam rolled her eyes, and stifled a laugh before it could begin. This whole thing made her nervous, and she was compensating by thinking up...lame jokes, apparently.
After reading the article through, Sam finally allowed her eyes to wander back up to the photograph. There was actually something rather fascinating about it. She took in their smiling faces, which proclaimed confidence, and success. They appeared to be on their way somewhere, but had obviously taken a moment to pose for the press. Vlad had probably arranged the moment in advance, to be sure they would both look how he wanted.
Sam's focus kept straying to Dan. He beamed at the camera with a smile dangerously close to her heart. Without the fangs, the flaming hair, and with eyes that were surely sky blue, if the photo had been printed in color...
I wish...Danny could find this kind of confidence.
Sam had to admit that it was a pretty good photo.
She put the newspaper clip down suddenly, as a wave of personal outrage rose up. Had she just thought that? Her lips tightened, and she had to close her eyes again, to squelch the feeling. After a long moment, she let out a slow breath, then picked up her mug of cocoa for another sip.
She let her eyes wander back down to the photo in her hand, hiding a frown behind the mug.
Fine. Sam was very much attracted to Danny. So finding this photo attractive was...expected, actually. And honestly...she was just a little sensitive right now. That was all.
Sam set the newspaper clipping, and her mug, down. She could feel Jazz's eyes on her, but didn't look up. She felt too exposed already, with her emotions probably written all over her face right now. She pulled out the letter, and started reading.
AN: So yeah, definitely a part one. Please leave me a review?