Danny and Sam sat across from one another, drowning in the tension like mice in a swimming pool. Sam squinted her blackened eyelids, running a finger around the brim of her cup. Her purple lips were pursed, her jaw clenched. Her eebrows furrowed together, and she made it obvious she did not intend to be the first to look away. Never.

Danny made no movement, his arms crossed, his eyes flat with a devient edge. He kept his jaw clenched.

"No." he said forcefully.

"Yes." replied Sam.



"Goddamnit, no!"

"C'mon Danny," Sam now begged, dropping her arms on the table and leaning forward, "please?"

"No!" Danny hissed.

She glanced at the booths on the opposite end of the resturant disdainefully, "I'll be your best friend?"

Danny rolled his eyes, "You are my best friend."

She crossed her arms, "Not for long."

Danny glared, "Oh, please. I've heard that one."

Her eyebrows furrowed, her shoulders slouching, "I'm not saying any permanent damage. Just...get in, get out. Please?"

He groaned, "Sam...."


"This is not the appropriate use of ghostly powers."

Sam squinted, "Is there rulebook now?"

He chewed on his straw thoughtfully, burrying his eyes in his palms, "You know what I mean."

She made a face, "It's not like they'll know. Besides, it's not like they don't deserve it."

He tapped his fingers against the table top, leaning back against the booth, his eyes glazing with consideration.

"If I do, you'll shut up about it, right?"

Sam grinned, "Absolutely."

"And you know I'm never doing it again, right?"

"Of course."

He sighed, ribbing his eyes and getting to his feet, opening the bathroom door and disappearing inside. Moments later, a girl by the name of Paulina screeched as her shirt was slipped from her body by invisible hands, while Dash Baxter shrieked at the five cups of coke soaking his sports jacket. The same invisible hands rifled threw open Paulina's purse, tossing various pieces of makeup around the resturant until a picture floated out. And, just as quickly, the hand and picture were gone, lost inside the bathroom.

Danny Fenton strode back to his table with Sam Manson, producing possibly the same picture from his pocket and sliding it across the table, "Enjoy the show?"

She smirked, flipping the picture over in her black painted fingers, "Very much, thankyou."

On this picture, a young girl was seated on sofa, her black pigtails held together by bright pink ribbins, matching her bright pink sweater and bright pink shoelaces on her clean white tennis shoes, which in turn matched her clean white skirt and her clean white teddy bear.

"I still don't know who could've given them that.." Danny remarked offhandedly.

"Yeah, well, whoever it was is going to have an unfortunate encounter with my boot." she grumbled, tucking it in her pocket.

Danny smirked, "If it's any consolation, you look pretty."

Sam smiled back, an uncharactoristic gleam of warmness flashing around her violet eyes. She toyed her plastic fork with the salad, "Shut up."

Even as the group of teenagers still wailed their sorrows of contempt and soiled sports coats, it was still silent to them as they secretly laughed at a joke that no one else found funny.

Danny still smirked, "Pinks a good color on you."

The End