A note: Um…yeah. Stems from my view of the word 'weird' as compared to a few other people in my life. Also, the quote was yet another from Raye Johnsen. Thank you sweetie!
Genre: Introspective/slight humor
When it happened the first time, Danny was in no way prepared to save his two friends, let alone himself, but somehow he pulled through, if only to make sure that Sam was safe and the vengeance of some long dead cafeteria lady was not played out on her hide. The same was true when Tucker made the foolish wish to have ghost powers as well. How Danny pulled through and thought up his plan as quickly as he did, he never really knew.
It wasn't until he started to realize how routine the fights seemed to be getting, how easily Tucker, Sam, and then Jazz slid into fights by his side and offered their assistance, that he really started to see how weird his life was becoming.
He was a fourteen year old boy, a brand new freshman who wanted to be worrying about popularity and girls and money and every now and again school, but rather was worrying about patrolling the town, training sessions, and the lives of every person around him. He wanted to be normal, but was quickly becoming anything but.
Not that he had been anywhere close to normal since his accident in the lab, but still…
Sitting on the couch with Tucker one night while waiting for Sam to arrive at his house for an evening out, hopefully minus the ghosts, he happened across a show about hunting ghosts. Nothing unusual there, except for the fact that Danny found himself critiquing their every move. When a quiet chuckle from his best friend pervaded Danny's senses, he turned to find Tucker shaking his head at something one of the actors had done.
"That was really stupid," the boy commented to the halfa, "For one, what would a locked door do against a ghost? And why in the world wouldn't they just go ahead and use their weapons if they know the ghosts are aggressive? It's sort of stupid to hope that they'd lay off just because they 'come in peace' to their haunt."
"I dunno'," Danny joined in his derisive laughter, giving a snorted laugh of his own as they yet again made a mistake and another member of their ghost hunting team was injured badly, "Ooo, that was dumb. I can't believe he took a swing at that thing. He knew that it passed through a wall, why would his fist be any different? I mean, sure if he could do what I do, it would have been different…and these people call themselves professionals?"
The boys got a laugh out of that and continued their scathing criticism until Sam finally showed up five minutes late and complaining of her parents archaic views and distinct lack of taste where her clothes were concerned. The boys laughed at that too, and soon they were all on their way, though a thought weighed heavily on the halfa's mind.
'I guess we sort of are professionals, aren't we?' he glanced between his two best friends and thought over their personalities, their skills, and just how far all three of them had come from the beginning of the whole ghost debacle, 'We're the outcasts, the losers of Casper High, but three of the best ghost hunters the world will never know about.'
The question was out of Danny's mouth before he could help it, and both Tucker and Sam gave him a worried look as they'd been walking down the empty street for the past ten minutes in nearly perfect silence. Sam opened her mouth to speak, then closed it as a thoughtful look crossed her face, leaving Tucker to be the one to answer his unusual question.
"I think we're a little weird," the boy shrugged, looking to Sam for support and finding a shrugged agreement as she gave a tight smile, "Danny, you're half a ghost, half a human, I'm the world's biggest techno-geek who can't even get a girl to look at me, and Sam is the Gothic heir to the toothpick-cellophane wrapping company who never eats meat. Society would definitely push us under the 'weird' category."
"Add in the fact that we hunt ghosts more often than we do our homework, and I think 'weird' is a pretty good title for us," Sam shrugged once again and tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket, "I mean, we're out on a Saturday night on patrol for ghosts after we all went to a movie. We should be out causing good old fashioned teenage havoc. We're…weird, but we're…unique because we're responsible and know what we're doing and why."
"We've turned pro," Danny added in his own two cents, enjoying the fact that his friends could still roll their eyes at him, "I don't think anybody but us could handle it anyways."
"Why do you say that?" Sam asked, a playfully confused smile settling at the corner of her lips.
"He means," Tucker draped an arm around each of them as they continued on their way, "We're so weird, that the weirdness doesn't bother us as much. The weird are the ones who can handle the weird situations and the weirdness that got thrust onto our already weird little lives."
"Tucker," the pair shook their heads as they spoke in unison, causing a stereo effect around the boy, "You're weird."
"Point proven, lovebirds," the boy laughed and then was off, the other two friends chasing him down the moonlit street and their echoing laughter sending shivers down the spines of those who considered 'weird' a very dirty word. They didn't care though, after all, they were getting to be professionals in all areas when it came to 'weird'.
'When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.'
--Hunter S. Thompson