Disclaimer: I would say that I owned DP, but sadly, I'd get sued…..So, I guess I don't own it.

…..I have no idea what I was thinking when I thought of this. However, notice the rating to this story. So, please don't get the wrong idea!

By the way, this is going to be slightly AU, meaning that Sam and Danny never met before.

Theoretically Illogical

Chapter 1: Vertigo

Twenty-one-year old Samantha Manson leaned up against the wall in a dimly lit corner. It was a party, alright. The apartment complex contained music, dancing, and enough alcohol to blow up a gas station. Bodies on bodies lined the walls to cheer for drinking contests, and some people even potentially tried to procreate on various couches and windowsills...

But that was normal for a college party, right?

Sam's violet eyes scanned the overly crowded apartment room in mild disgust. How did my roommate manage to drag me into this? she wondered, almost awed by her own stupidity. I should have just stayed back at my apartment. She looked at the clock sitting on the table next to her. 10:03 pm.

Only one hour had passed since the start of the party, and nearly half of the people were already too intoxicated to complete rational thought. Perhaps Sam's biggest misfortune was the fact that her roommate had the keys to their apartment and the car that they shared.

Not a comforting thought. Sam looked over at her drunk roommate, a young woman by the name of Tia, who was dancing with some guy like a deranged Pinocchio.

Even less of a comforting thought.

Then again, extremely idiotic dancing is a side-effect to drinking.

Sam distantly looked around the room again. It seemed as though most of the people there were experiencing such a side-effect. Others seemed to have been wiped off the map entirely, crawling on their hands and knees to the bar. A few were on their backs, hopelessly attempting the worm without any sort of motor skill whatsoever.

"Hey, Sam! Wait up!"

Sam turned around to see Tia jogging up to her with a smile on her face.

"Guess what?" she asked.

"You won the lottery?" Sam deadpanned.

"Close, but no. You remember my friend Dave?"

"Yeah," Sam replied casually, her brain recognizing the name. "He's the one with bleached hair, right?"

Her roommate nodded and said with glee, "He's throwing a party at his apartment on Saturday, and he invited us to come!"

In reply, Sam face faulted. "Tia, you know I don't like to go to parties. I mean, I'm not exactly Miss Social."

"But, Sam! You have to come!"

"Why? Chances are there's going to be alcohol, which means-"

"We're twenty-one, Sam. I highly doubt we can get in trouble."

"But what if there are minors at the party? That means we would still be liable. And in plus, I'm not a social person. You know that."

Tia gave Sam her best puppy-eyes face (and Sam had to admit: it was pretty convincing). "Please? I'll talk to Dave about the drinks, and you know literally all of the other juniors in this place. All you'd have to do is some small talk, and you'd end up with a group of friends by the end of the party. Just give it a chance!" her roommate pleaded desperately.

Sam sighed in defeat.. She's probably just going to bug me until I give in anyway..."All right, all right," she finally surrendered, "I'll-" She was cut off when Tia squealed happily and hugged her.

Since nine o' clock, all Sam had done was either talk to Tia or sit around, trying to blend in with the white walls. (Sadly, Sam had trouble blending in with a white wall due to the fact that she was inconspicuously dressed in black).

Shouts of "Tequila!" could be heard over the music, and Sam scoffed at their idiocy. But then, she thought morbidly, what was I expecting?

Sighing, Sam stood up and walked over to the food table and poured herself a cup of punch. But as soon as she took the first sip, she noticed something different about the punch. It tasted incredibly fruity (like punch naturally should), but it burned ever so slightly going down her throat. Her eyebrows furrowed. It tasted good, but she set the cup down with a frown. "Spiked," she sighed.

She should have guessed that even the punch would be drenched in alcohol in a place like this.

But as she looked around and eyed the laughing, careless faces of her peers, and the way they all seemed to group together and bounce to a beat that everyone but her knew by heart, she felt more depressed than angry. Some part of her knew that she was acting disgruntled, simply because she did not belong here. No, Samantha Manson was an outcast because she liked dark things and was too focused on studies to have fun.

"Oh, what the hell," she said, grabbing onto her cup again and eyeing it the way a scientist would a mouse. She had drank a bit at family weddings and formal dinners. This punch didn't taste half as bad as the ghastly cabernets that her parents loved so much. Maybe she did need to loosen up. Maybe she did need to have fun and stop feeling sorry for herself.

Just a little bit.

In no time at all, Sam downed the whole cup. She smiled as her stomach warmed from the liquid. She felt no different; she was perfectly coherent and in control.

So that cup led to another cup, and perhaps another. Eventually, it led to so many cups that Sam lost count, and eventually, her ability to count was lost. The effect of the alcohol didn't really hit her until after she tried to stand up from the couch where she'd taken up residence.

But by that time, Sam was beginning to feel…happy. That was a big deal for her, considering everything. She was never happy.

Hell, she felt so good, she even was beginning to dance to the music…

Exactly twenty minutes later proved the well-tested effects of seventy-five proof punch in the stomach of a small woman's body:

"Tequila!" Sam yelled happily, singing along with everyone dancing around her.

She turned around to dance with that dude she was dancing with earlier (she couldn't exactly remember who he was) and found out that she wasn't really dancing with anyone.

Oh well! Sam thought, still twirling around and moving her body with the beat of the music. This was so much fun! She felt so…free! So alive, so real, and she could actually feel, and she was rhyming in her mind and-!

"Tequila!" She called out again, only to realize it wasn't time to say that just yet…

Oops! She giggled, twirling again to the music.

"Refills! Anybody want refills!" Tia's voice rang out over the music as she passed out purple and gold colored drinks.

Sam turned around to face Tia with a totally new alcohol-induced light. "Tia!" She said, grabbing a golden drink. "What a great party!"

"I'm happy you," Tia hiccupped and slurred, "like it!" She stumbled on her way to the food table to set down the extra drinks.

Sam just stood there for a second, trying to regain some balance. And that seemed to get harder and harder with every passing minute.

Stupid ground...it won't stay still! she thought grudgingly.

She played with the hem of her black velvet tank top as she listened to the rhythm, soprano, and bass of the voices around her. Dozens of conversations floated and interweaved through her ears like a hazy song.

"-An Olympic sized pool for the apartments. It's at the back, and they're opening it for the party!" some guy explained to his friend.

Sam smiled and walked over to the apartment door. She was gonna go to this pool. After all, swimming was the perfect way to end a party! And she liked swimming, didn't she?

...Of course I do! she decided. Then her face faulted into a drunken pout.

Wait a minute, I don't have a suit! Sam just mentally shrugged. Oh well. That's what underwear is for.

She breathed in the night air and giggled once more as she stumbled down the apartment's sidewalk. This is the most fun I've had since…forever!

Why haven't I done this before?

She straightened her black bell bottom pants and tank top as she stood out in the middle of the road.

Now, where did they say that pool was? Oh, yeah! They said it was back at my apartment!

Sam began walking down the middle of the road, trying to find her apartment.

College lights and cars and trees twisted in her way as her vision blurred. She staggered, and the world swam in circles, leading her to believe that the ground held some sort of grudge against her. Perhaps it really did, because she couldn't tell if it was playing merry-go-round with the sky, if it had actually obtained a new subpoint in its definition that included the word 'portable,' or if it was really just staying in one spot like usual.

"Whoa," she swallowed hard, blinking hard. How many yellow lines separated the road's left and right lanes? Why couldn't she remember?

And where was her apartment again?

It was then that she got the brillant idea to look up, and she saw a random guy walking on the other side of the road. "Hey!" she waved her arm. Or tried to. It flopped strangely over her head. She'd have to work on waving later, because going swimming was much more important. "Hey, you! Excuse me? Do you know where my apartment is?"

His ice blue eyes flickered her way, and after a second's hesitation, he walked towards her. "Hey, are you alright?" his tenor voice echoed around her. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out why his words were out of time with his mouth, but to no avail.

Her memory became worse in that moment. She suddenly couldn't remember anything anymore. Things became hazy, almost like a dream…

Twelve hours later found her waking from blissful oblivion into a rather unfortunate reality. Sam groaned as intense light hit her eyes. She snuggled deeper into her pillow, desperately wishing for the light to shut off.

But sadly, she couldn't get back to sleep. She felt too awful to fall back asleep. Her neck was killing her, her stomach was turning, she felt a little green...

Sam cracked open an eye and immediately wished she hadn't. Her dilated eyes took in way too much light from the window, and her disoriented mind flipped and spun her skull with the mother of all headaches.

A least I made it back to my apartment, she thought in slight relief as she struggled to hold back a groan of pain. Her fingers dug into the material of the couch beneath her, and she realized she must have never made it back to bed.

She shakingly pulled herself up, rubbing her temples. Then she finally focused on her surroundings.

Within that second, Sam realized that her apartment didn't have that type of décor. Nor did they have a couch in that certain place. Or those space posters on the wall.

It wasn't her apartment.

Oh my God.

Fully alert, she turned her head towards the kitchen, hoping her eyes were deceiving her.

That hope was apparently too much to ask for.

A guy was sitting the kitchen, reading some book. He looked over in her direction with baby blue eyes.

Sam panicked. Oh my God! Where am I? Who's that!

What happened last night?

And so, Sam did the first thing she could think of.

She screamed.

(Hands shrivel and fall off my arms.) Ouch. That was a lot to type in one day…

Okay, people, I'm gonna ask: What did you think? Do you like it? Do you want me to continue?

I really did work hard on this, and so I'd really appreciate some feedback.

Please no flames.

Lightning Streak

Pretty please, land me a reveiw and tell me if anyone out there in Cyberspace cares about this story!