Finally finished up the Jason/Sam one. I've been working on this one a while. Honestly, I love the thought of Jason interacting with anyone from Team Phantom. There's still one more pairing I want to write before the finale, so I'll try to focus on that. With the other two big stories also In Progress we'll see how that goes. Wish me luck.

"I'm not good or bad. I'm just practical as hell."
-Jason Todd


Normally being at the Skulk and Lurk on a Saturday morning was the best time to visit, outside of the social events, like the poetry slams and the exchanges. No one else wanted to visit so early, especially since the primary clientele designated themselves Creatures of the Night. But this morning was different. This morning, instead of Sam being the only person waiting for the owner to open up, there was someone else already standing at the front door.

He was large, probably as physically imposing as Jack Fenton, but filled with muscle instead of fudge. After years of ghost fighting, Sam knew when to recognize another fighter, even if it was covered under the jeans and leather jacket. He had a bike helmet under his arm and he was leaning against the wall, looking too casual to be real. Taking a glance around, she noticed a motorcycle parked across the street along the curb. And he definitely wasn't from around here, that much she could tell immediately, even if she knew everyone in town basically. Amity Park wasn't that big of a town and tourists didn't visit the local goth bookstore.

He noticed her walking up and gave her a nod. He was already too confident for his own good. It must be the bike, she thought, no average person from Amity Park pretended to be that cool. She planted her feet in front of the store, facing him. He stood easily a foot taller, even with her combat boots, so she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"The bike shop is two doors down," she said to him. Her eyes tried to dart to the shop down the block with the wheels popping out the window. She thought about adding a smile, so as not to see extra rude, but didn't want to seem overly friendly. Those extra-confident guys were always thinking she was here with a boyfriend or something and not actually here to read on her own.

He raised one eyebrow at her and she crossed her arms across her chest to match. "Good morning to you, too," he said slowly. The way he said it, it almost sounded like a question. "I'm actually going to the bookstore," he continued, looking at his watch, "whenever they open that is." Sam noted it was the latest model, something Tucker would be drooling over immediately.

She opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly the door to the bookstore clicked and the owner opened the door. The owner peeked his head around and gave a wide smile. He never smiled at Sam, even if she was his most regular customer. "You must be Jason!" he said, reaching to shake the stranger's hand. "Come in, come in!" Jason gave one of those firm shakes with the singular pumps and followed behind the owner.

Sam followed behind, disappointed at the additional presence this morning. She wasn't jealous, per se, at the newcomer, but she didn't like how the owner welcomed this guy readily and barely knew her name despite years of loyal service. She moved herself to be far enough away not to be associated with the newcomer, but not far enough that she couldn't eavesdrop. Sam wasn't frustrated at him specifically, but she liked being the only person in the bookstore. It was literally the only reason she would wake up early.

The owner and the stranger, Jason, as he had called him, chatted casually at the cashier counter. When the owner left the counter to search his stock in the back room, Jason placed his hands on the counter slowly, deliberately and hung his head. "Are you going to creep on me the whole time?" he asked loud enough for her to hear. Maybe he was talking to the owner? Sam didn't answer. He opened his eyes slightly and turned his head towards her. Okay, so maybe he was talking to her.

Instead of cowering, Sam glared at him deliberately. She was planning to be subtle, but obviously that wasn't working as well as she thought. She snapped the book shut she was pretending to read and walked up the counter. She didn't like being called a creep. Goth, sure, but not creep.

"I'm only 'creeping' because you aren't from around here. We don't get a lot of visitors. And when we do, they often aren't friendly." She explained. She tried to seem serious, she didn't want this newbie thinking she was someone he could push around.

He stood up straighter and started laughing. "Wow, I did not expect that!" he said, "that was brutally honest!" He had a loud laugh, one that filled the tiny bookstore. He wiped away a small tear. Well, that was not a reaction she suspected. Disgusted, annoyed maybe, but never amused.

"What are you looking for anyways?" she asked. He wasn't getting off that easy by throwing her off her game. He fluffed up his jacket, straightening up and glancing towards the back room the owner was rustling through. One elbow leaning against the counter, Sam couldn't tell if he was too confident or too naturally cool, but his attitude only further confirmed he was not from here.

"First edition Edward Gorey, Ms. Manson!" the store owner said. "And here you are, Mr. Todd." The owner unboxed the book and handed it to Jason very deliberately and carefully. Jason handled it like a fragile egg, turning it over slowly in his hands. As calloused as his hands appeared, he treated this book like a newborn baby. Sam swore he would start whispering to it at any moment.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Benstein." Jason said softly, "I'm amazed you were able to find it. None of the bookstores in Gotham City had access to it."

Well, now Sam knew he was from Gotham City. That was about a half day's drive from here. Quite a commitment for a book, even a special one like this. Maybe with a couple more questions, Sam could find out more details about the mystery visitor.

"You're into Gorey?" Sam said, trying not to put a hint of surprise in her voice. "That doesn't usually fit the stereotype of leather-clad muscle dude."

Jason gave her another side eye and a smirk. Man, this guy was cocky. He began packing the book back in the box, taking extra intention to wrap it without any wiggle room. "I'm more of a book collector versus a genuine fan of Gorey, but I do have an appreciation for his works. How do you know about Gorey?" He asked, tucking the book box under his arm.

"As a self-proclaimed Goth, I try to know most things dark and spooky." she explained.

He shrugged and gave a small, polite laugh. "Good enough for me!" He checked his phone out of his pocket and looked back at the owner. "Thank you again, Mr. Benstein. I really appreciate all the help." They smiled at each other as if regular businessmen. Jason pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and placed it on the counter, sliding it towards the shop owner. "For your troubles."

The owner stopped the envelope's movement, "I couldn't." The envelope sat between them, but the man in leather didn't reach to take it back.

"Keep it. Consider it a donation, then," Jason said, glancing at his watch. "I was hoping to make this a day trip, so I better get back on the road. Keep me up to date on your future dealings, Mr. Benstein!" He faced Sam now, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you too, Goth Girl." She might as well be somewhat polite now, Sam thought. He didn't seem to be any more trouble than the ghosts around. Sam shook his hand and felt a small shock when they touched. He pulled back and shook his hand. "Little static-y I guess!" he said. His hand waved behind his head as he walked out the door towards his bike across the street.

Something still felt odd to Sam. She looked down at her hand and almost dropped the book she was holding. She hastily set the book on the counter and practically ran out the door of the shop, halfway across the street before the bell above the door dinged. Thinking back to the handshake, she was more confident than ever. How could she have missed this? Between the professional and personal touches with Danny, especially at this point, she should know what a ghost felt like when it touched you. And Jason definiitely had that same feeling.

Jason was packing up the book on his bike when Sam stomped next to him, purposefully making her boots louder than normal. If Goths could sweat, she would be dripping at this point with anxiety. In all their years of dealing with the paranormal, she had never directly confronted a being before confrontation. Sometimes, Danny tried that approach, which rarely worked, but Sam was never that person on Team Phantom. She was the trainer, sometimes the researcher, but never the aggressor. If anything, being an Ultra-Recyclo-Vegetarian should keep her from being the aggressor in any situation. But her stubborn nature won out most times on that battle.

Jason obviously noticed her, but chose to act oblivious to her and keep pretending to check his bike in preparation for the road trip back to Gotham. He finally looked up when she presented herself in front of the bike. He gave a confident, small laugh and placed his helmet on his hip. She didn't look angry, but she looked more than determined.

Before he could get a question out she announced, "So what are you really doing in Amity Park?"

Now he was confused. "You mean other than the book?" he gestured to the pack where the book was sitting.

She ignored him and kept questioning, "Is it the ghost hunting? Is it the Fentons? Is it Phantom?"

He tried to answer with his confusion, but she continued, "Is it something to do with the Guys in White? Is it Vlad? I know for sure it's not the burgers at Nasty Burger." The last one wasn't a question, but she acted like it was and she was waiting for an answer.

He paused, digesting the questions. "Is it really called Nasty Burger? That's a terrible name."

She sighed, seeing he wasn't taking this seriously. Somehow his attitude only made Sam more paranoid about the situation. She had to take this up a notch. "I know you died. I just want to know what you're doing here. I just want to know what kind of trouble we need to prepare for." If nothing else, Sam wanted to know what new ghost had decided to wander into her bookstore on a Saturday morning.

He could feel his face flushing. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He wished his had his helmet on to mask his emotions. His heart was in his throat, beating a thousand beats a minute. He fumbled out a "How did you know?" but it felt like a whisper and in jibberish. Even with all the languages Jason knew, whatever he was speaking was not a known one.

She raised a hand, "Your handshake triggered the Specter Deflector. I wear a permanent one now." As if that made sense. He said nothing, hoping she would continue. She didn't. His eyes darted around. He could take her down and make a run for it, but that would be unprofessional. He could blow her off and ask Oracle to take care of her, but that would be involving himself back in the family again, which he didn't want either. So many scenarios ran through his head. And they were all interrupted.

Sam came to the realization this was all new knowledge to this guy. Which meant this was new territory for her too. "You don't know a thing do you?" Her whole posture relaxed. "Ghosts don't come to Amity Park for no reason..." He hadn't said a word and he didn't look like he could at this point.

"Shit." She took two steps away, turned around and pointed at him. "Don't move." There was only one person who might be able to help this guy right now. She whispered into her watch. Jason wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear, but years of being a Batkid had trained him in lip readings. Even through the mild panic attack, the training kicked in, not that he would ever admit that to Bruce. "Danny, I need you at the Skulk and Lurk. Now." She looked up, her eyes focused on Jason. Then, she looked to the skies.

Was Jason supposed to wait? Could he leave now? A blur caught his peripheral vision and landed in front of him, next to the girl. It was just a kid. A kid in a black and white jumpsuit. He was maybe ten years younger and about half the width of Replacement Tim. "Whats up, Sam?" the kid said. She gestured towards Jason.

Jason finally felt like he was able to relax a little. He was expecting something more, but this kid with bleached out hair was not it. He could take these two kids. Then, he could escape this town and never come back. Gotham City was normally the city of crazies, but Jason apparently had found some extras in this small town. He postured up, trying to physicall tell these kids that he was over this conversation.

The kid, Danny, he guessed, took two steps and stopped. Halted, almost, as if hit by a wave of something. He turned around immediately, facing the girl, Sam, at this point. "Shit. Another one?"

She shrugged. "I thought the same thing." She took another glance at Jason, still sitting on the bike. This time her eyes softened when he looked at Jason, almost with pity. "You should talk to him." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Glowing green, Lazarus green, eyes locked with Jason. How had he not noticed the kid's eyes. Jason felt his stomach drop looking at the same color in the kid's eyes that brought him out of his grave and back to life. It was a color he never wanted to see again, but now it was staring him down in the form of a kid in a small town. It was the green that clouded his vision when a pit rage consumed him and caused him to do things even he regretted, despite his attempts to forget them.

Next thing he knew, there was a flash emitting from the kid, lines traveled vertically up and down his body and he was wearing jeans and a tshirt. He looked like a normal kid, but somehow that didn't really make Jason feel any better. His hair was dark and his eyes now a normal, non-glowing blue color. A copy of every Wayne adoptee ever...great. The kid reached out a hand now. It seemed normal enough, but now Jason was skeptical.

He decided to take the handshake, going for the single-pump professional handshake. Surprisingly strong for a scrawny kid, he mentally noted. And then it felt like his lungs filled with brand-new air, fresh air, air that he hadn't breathed in since his rebirth. It was refreshing and overwhelming all at the same time. All his senses were overwhelmed. When Jason was able to right himself again, the whole world seemed muffled, like his brain was trying to adjust to his new awareness of everything. He saw the kid's lips move, but didn't hear any words. For the first time Jason's bat-instincts didn't immediately kick in.

"Wha-what did you say?" Jason asked softly. He blinked a couple times trying to focus his mind again. It felt like all his senses were sharpened, like colors were brighter and images were clear. He could smell the oil and gas off his bike and the musk of the book in his pack all at once.

Danny released the handshake, studying his hand as if it was brand new. "Huh, weird," he remarked to himself and shook his hand like he was flicking off water droplets. "Anyways," he faced Jason again, "I'm Danny, Danny Phantom. Here to help through any ghostly questions or concerns you may have." The kid smiled and the goth girl took a few steps closer, like a body guard, still seething caution and concern, under all that goth anger, of course.

The smile was genuine, which made Jason even more skeptical. He realized his hand was on his thigh where his favorite gun normally was strapped when he was patrolling the streets of Crime Alley. Almost as if it was a security blanket. The Gothamite finally felt like he had his head on straight. His focus and concentration was back and his mind was free of that fuzzy feeling of pit rage, for the time being. Whatever was going on in this town, he didn't want any part of it. He had enough problems in his own hometown that didn't deal with two teenagers reminding him of his death in every conversation.

Jason squinted his eyes, surveying both teens thoroughly before making up his mind. Maybe if he was in a different helmet, a red one with bombs in it, he would have been more confrontational, but this was supposed to be a casual road trip for a book to add to his personal collection.

"Fuck this," was all he said. The motorcyclists slapped on his helmet, threw up his kickstand, started up his bike, and took off towards the interstate. In his mirror he saw the kid waving excitedly, but not following, thank God. He barely heard the kid yell, "Call if you need anything!" over the roar of his engine as he sped off.

Sam crossed her arms, asking Danny, "You're not going after him?"

"Nah," the ghost boy replied, changing back into his other-worldly persona, floating slightly above the ground. "He knows where to find me." He flew into the air, his legs merging into a tail. "See you tonight, Sam!" he called down, "I'll bring the burgers!" before she couldn't see him anymore.

She took a deep sigh, "Both of them...clueless," and walked back into her favorite bookstore. Maybe she could find some peace and quiet in her store.


thank you, everyone! comments encouraged!