Did you like the way I look
When I am sleeping

Was my hair more fun to tangle
Are my dreams more entertaining?

~Ghost by Emilie Autumn

Three: Trust Falls

Not once had he ever revealed himself to any of the tenants, not once. And yet, when Sam walked into the house with authority she didn't really have, Danny got the eerie feeling she would break that mold like she broke all others, and what do you know?

He originally planned to soften her landing unseen, like he had assisted her with carrying the ladder. Subtle, stealthy, and barely perceptible, that's what he intended.

Only for one of Vlad's damned vultures to show up and take a peek at the new girl. An icy wisp of a breath escaped his mouth when that bird-brain appeared, prompting him to look up and spot a translucent aviator flying too close for comfort. Eyes turning red, he launched himself at the bird without a second thought, eliciting a squawk that he did his best to silence with a hand wrapped around the break. Unfortunately, however, Vlad had dispatched the one who boasted the largest beak, one that Danny couldn't wrap the full circumference of his hand around. Therefore he'd been forced to smash it down with both hands on either side, leading the bird to thrash and fly towards Sam. He gritted his teeth, trying to pull him backwards, but its wing slapped at his face. He flinched for but a moment, and that was enough for the overlarge beak to free itself, propelling towards Sam's vulnerable and unsuspecting head. Before it could squeeze a head-shot in, however, Danny shot a gaping hole straight through its beak. With a choked squall, it faltered and retreated, turning tail and fleeing into the horizon. Soon it would report back to Plasmius all it had seen.

Under any other circumstances, he would've discarded the bird of prey into the Fenton portal. As it stood, however, he couldn't afford to settle this score. Not when Sam was about to fall off a roof.

And so, in a last-minute ditch effort, Danny de-transformed and caught her bridal style. Thank goodness the security cameras weren't installed yet.

Being isolated for so long, he worried his social skills might have atrophied. Thus he floundered at first when her eyes opened and landed graciously on him. Even so, he tried not to panic or else she might notice.

Damn… he thought, meeting her suspicious glare head-on. I can't take this back.

As if that weren't bad enough already, he gave her his real name. His actual birth name. Why?! Had it simply been the way she looked at him? Like she wanted to tear him apart molecule by molecule, figuratively speaking? Or had his subconscious rebelled in the hopes of establishing a genuine connection with someone, lured by her dark beauty?

Whatever it was, he'd have to tread carefully. Or else he would be the one to stumble and fall next.

She welcomed him inside, door shutting behind him. One thing Sam immediately noted was how Danny barely look around. When she led him to the kitchen, his steps never once faltered, almost like he had already been familiar with the layout. Moreso than her—Sam struggled with directions, relying on landmarks instead of right and left.

"I've got milk, iced tea or water," she said when they reached the kitchen, opening the cabinets to grab a couple glasses.

Her kitchen was spacious, to say the least, with ample counter space. An island of pink granite took up the center, populated with leather stools that were also an infuriatingly bright pink. A row of bright bulbs hung overhead with papery shades that tinted the illumination pink. Despite how she loathed the color, she had to admit that it suited Danny's complexion.

Shaking that thought away, she grabbed ice from her freezer.

"Ice water's fine, thanks." Danny took up one of the stools, leaning his elbows on the countertop. "You know, I can't help but notice that this place does not match your color palette."

She filled both cups with water, avoiding those pretty blue eyes. "Yeah, no, that's my mom's taste."

"You don't have the same tastes?"

She tactfully held back her scoff. "No." Taking the stool across from him, she slid the glass across the island into his open hand. "Respectfully."

"Ah." He sipped the water, gaze fixed on her. "That's a shame. I kinda like your style better."

She mirrored Danny's sip before replying. "Trying to flatter me?"

He cracked one of those slippery shy smiles that set her heart a-skipper. "Depends on if it's working?"

"Flattery only works on those who need reassurance of who they are." She set her glass down with a light thud, as if to punctuate the statement. "So no."

Undaunted, his smile widened. "I see."

Sam watched him carefully. One could easily mistake this for flirting, and she would allow that illusion. In reality, however, she was thoroughly pattern-spotting him. Every tic and tell would be registered and compared to a database of similar ones and what they meant.

'Normal' people read others intuitively, but Sam had to manually master it. She comforted herself by writing deductive and predictive algorithms of everyone she met, a background process that drained her but proved essential.

"So Danny, you said you live around here?"

"Lived here all my life," he said. She couldn't detect a lie in that.

"Where at? You must be close if you cut through my yard to reach the cemetery, yeah?" She arched an eyebrow, leaning her cheek on her palm. "Could I walk over to your place in the middle of the night and throw a pebble at your window, for instance?"

He hesitated, emitting a chuckle wracked with nerves. "…You seem more like the kinda girl who would climb on the roof herself."

Her smirk became a smile. "Touché."

His eyebrows lowered, expression souring. "What's up with that, by the way? Weren't you worried about falling?"

"No," she said plainly.

"Why not?"

Sam studied the ice cubes floating in her glass. "If I die, I die."

"I'd really prefer you didn't." She looked up then, locking eyes with him and sensing a commanding undercurrent. "You're the most interesting person I've seen around here in a while. It would suck if you were gone, or if you got hurt."

She stilled.

"I mean…" He scrambled for words when he noticed her silence. "Sorry if I'm overstepping, but—"

"You overstepped when you showed up on my lawn," she interrupted, offering a gentle smile, "but then you caught me."

A small sigh of relief from Danny. "It was dangerous to be doing that all on your own just because you felt like it."

She took another casual sip of her glass. "Do I look like someone who shies from danger?"

More smiles and a head shake. "No."

"Wonderful," she said without a trace of wonder. "Back to the subject, you grew up where exactly?"

"Uh… next door. Like three quarters of a mile."

He scratched the back of his head, rustling the cowlicks at the nape. "I do that plus a walk in the cemetery and back. Over five miles overall."

She relented for the time being, realizing that he would only avoid the questions. "Sounds spooky."

"I enjoy the ambience, especially when I'm passing by your house."

Sam flicked her eyes to the ceiling lamps. "You scared of the pink too?"

"No." He chuckled when she shuddered for dramatic effect. "Your place has a reputation."

"Oh? Like a murder house or something? That would explain why my mom had trouble selling it."

"Sort of? I've heard a lot of different rumors, but they're not substantiated or anything." He waved a hand flippantly. "Just a bunch of conspiracy theories."

"Conspiracy theories are fascinating," she pressed. "Provided you can look at them with a clinical detachment."

"I guess. Some people are really attached to their theories though."

"So what's the rumors?"

Danny hesitated. "I… I don't think you should hear it about from me. All I know is a bit of what my parents told me. I don't have any friends in town, so…"

"You don't?" She blinked in mild surprise, gaze sweeping over him. "I expected you to be popular."

"Not at all." He shook his head. Her gaze flickered to the spikes, delighting in how they swished. "Being home-schooled doesn't help."

"You never went to public school?" Her questions were flowing easily now, disguised as friendly curiosity.

"I did until high school. Got bullied too much."

"Ah." Sam sipped the water to try and dispel the awkwardness of wondering how to comfort him. "I'm sorry. I know what that's like."

"Do you?" He tilted his head, smiling softly. "You seem so sure of yourself."

"I guess," she echoed one of his answers earlier. "Yeah, I've been bullied. Too different. I'd huddle with my little band of misfits and try to keep my head low. Although sometimes I'd lose my cool and fire back."

"At least it's just nasty rumors, right? I got shoved in the locker too many times to count."

"Nah. Girls are less violent but they're still capable of it. Once I got slapped for insulting a bully. Another one knocked me out for calling her a bitch." She shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed by how Danny's eyebrows flew up and disappeared beneath his bangs. "Okay, I wasn't the one who called her a bitch. My friend did."

"She attacked you for something your friend did?"

"She couldn't take on my friend in a fight. Too tall and broad." She glanced at the clock—a classic kitty clock with oscillating pupils and a swishing tail. "It's kinda late in the afternoon. Done with painting for the day, I'd say."

"Yeah, I agree. You can do a second coat on another day. Or maybe…" Danny hissed through his teeth. "…pay others to do it for you because that's safer?"

"Hmm." She leveled him with a hard stare. "You're a 'safe' guy."

A shrug and a smile. "Just your friendly neighborhood guy."

"I mean, you don't take any risks?"

"'Not exactly." A moment elapsed where he eyed her contemplatively. She confronted the stare with a nauseating burst of butterflies. Then suddenly he got up from his stool and circled the island to her side. Sam's breath stalled in her chest as she looked up at him quizzically.

"I don't like it when others take risks."

Something about his tone unnerved her. Firm but gentle, leaving no room for argument. While he may have seemed harmless, Sam couldn't dispel a growing sense of unease.

"What happened here?" Danny lifted the hand with the bandaged finger delicately, as if he were an old-fashioned gentleman about to kiss it.

"Uh." Caught off guard, she froze. Danny's gaze remained locked on her like they were battling for dominance, which tied her tongue in even tighter knots. Typically Sam's reaction would be to snatch her hand away and snap at him, Don't touch me.'

But something about Danny compelled her to defer. Such a rare sensation that she couldn't help but treasure it.

At last, she answered, "I broke some glass."

It's not a lie. Simply a tactful omission.

"You should be more careful." He dropped her hand, that hypnotic blue stare never leaving her face. "Please?"

Her tongue unfurled after several attempts. "Since you asked nicely."

Danny smiled, cheeks rosy underneath the soft pink lighting, accentuating the blush. Taking in the sight, her stomach somersaulted.

Perhaps she bit off more than she could chew when she invited this boy in. Her mind was cloudy with frustrating feelings that she could barely compartmentalize.

"Great." He withdrew a few steps, folding his hands behind his back. "Thanks again, Sam. It was really nice meeting you."

Utterly dazed, she replied on autopilot. "Likewise."

"I better head back to my place or my folks will get worried." But he stood there waiting, like he needed permission from her.

"Okay." She brushed her hair behind her ear, both a flirtatious maneuver and to self-soothe. Smug satisfaction stabbed her in the gut when his gaze diverted to her hair. "Can I have your number then?"

His smile shifted to sheepish. "I don't have a phone."

She blinked dumbly at him. "No phone?"

"Yeah, I'm kinda off-grid."

Odd, he didn't appear to be lying on that one, even though it was the oldest excuse in the book to refuse someone your contact info.

"Then how do I stay in touch with you?" she asked, shoulders slumping.

"I…" His gaze darted everywhere but at her. "We could set up a time?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. "Tuesdays at noon?"

"Works for me."

She watched him go with a mix of relief and long. Hearing the front door shut, she released a pent-up breath.

Danny Fenton… Never before had anyone tripped her up like this—not even when she was younger and still struggling to read the books that were people's faces.

Assaulted by racing thoughts, Sam nestled her head on a makeshift pillow of folded arms. How could this have happened? She pegged Danny as an overly shy guy who wouldn't hurt a fly or touch it without permission.

Until… Rewinding the scene, she realized that he'd risen to her challenge. 'Are you a safe guy?' she had asked. 'Do you take risks?'

She filed that away in her notes: Danny responded to challenges. That could be exploited in the future if need be. Slightly reassured by that morsel of a power grab, Sam rose from her stool, proceeding to down her glass of water. Never one to waste, she dumped the remainder of Danny's glass into hers before tucking it away in the dishwasher.

Then she went to the living room, turned on her laptop and commenced with her background check. When she scrolled through the list of names, however, none of them fit the description of her Danny Fenton. Ages and locations and hair colors and eye colors were off. Her closest resemblance proved to be someone else when she looked him up on Facebook.

Fuck. Was he truly off-grid? How did he manage that?

She chewed her fingernail. Why did it look like someone had wiped Danny's identity entirely? Like a criminal who paid someone on the Dark Web to erase all traces of him from the public (and somewhat-but-not-really private) domains? Had she misread him that badly? Maybe Witness Protection Program?

Her heart deflated and sank. Admittedly she liked him, but logic superseded like. That's her rule and she would stick to it.

With that being thought, Sam wracked her brain for more leads. Would any of the townies know of Danny Fenton? She groaned, sliding a hand down her face. Socializing, her worst nightmare, and yet that's what social engineering required where software engineering had failed.

"Fuck me to Death," she cursed into the thin air.

Then she checked her email and opened the one sent by Mr. Lancer, architectural blueprints of the house attached. Scrutinizing for several minutes, she found no trace of the secret passageways like her paranoia suggested. Well, that's a relief. Maybe she had been imagining the noises and sensations after all—breaths tickling her ear, an ominous gaze on the back of her head.

Simply a side effect of living on her own for the first time in her life, perhaps. Eventually she'd adjust to her newfound freedom. That is, if no one else wandered into her territory without proper explanation. Like any patrolling cat, Sam bristled and spat at intruders… Even if they had dreamy blue eyes that set her heart and stomach aflutter and careened her thoughts into the gutter.

Danny collapsed on his frame-less mattress in a heap. Only the dim red lights bordering the portal illuminated the lab, bathing him in a menacing glow reminiscent of his Obsessed eyes. Speaking of Obsession, it was creeping in more than ever and if he wasn't careful to trim it back, it would spread throughout like kudzu. He drew in a deep breath before releasing an exhale laden with ice crystals, expelling the coldness that filled his veins.

"She's not yours," he reminded himself, eyelids drooping as he pulled the comforter up to his chin. "Not yours."

Still the images persisted. Sam freezing up like a frightened rabbit at the slightest touch. Never pulling away, in flesh or in spirit. Treating him like a puzzle to be solved, nudging with inquiry and tactfully withdrawing when rejected. Sam glancing furtively over at him while they painted M's and W's, sunlight glinting off her dark tresses. Sam laughing aloud at his dorky Dad joke about the step ladder. Sam staring and staring and staring at him, wondering and puzzling and, perhaps, secretly indulging? Once or twice, she'd been distracted by one of his features, the eyes or hair mostly. A smug smile formed on his face as he recalled how her gaze would drift to his hair if he played with it. So cute…. Did she have any idea how cute she was?

Danny raked a hand through his spikes, realizing how his thoughts had diverted. It happened so easily when the Obsession took the reins. He refocused on deep breaths, trying to direct them towards more pressing matters, such as the verbal contract he agreed to.

Best option would be to ghost her, no? Pun not intended. (Liar, it was intended.) But then… Would that risk a downward spiral? Sam appeared a little stung when he turned down her request for a number. What would she look like if he failed to show up?

He groaned at the thought. Luckily the lab had been soundproofed or that might have echoed above.

"What am I supposed to do?" He turned on his side, encased in the blanket like an egg roll.

Watch her, talk to her, the Obsession demanded. She likes you.

Had she though? Danny couldn't tell if the flirting had been playful banter or a serious testing of boundaries.

It doesn't matter. She wouldn't be compatible with him. After all, he's dead. So far as all public databases were concerned.

How could she ever trust him?