We gotta get you a girlfriend." Sam suddenly piped up. Danny's eyebrows skyrocketed.


"Yeah, you know, one who isn't a shallow witch or a ghost murdering psycho." Sam said reasonably as her fingers clicked rapidly on her violet keyboard.

"Uh...huh. And HOW are we going to accomplish that?" He inquired, his mouth ticking up in a grin.

"Well, your ghost fighting muscles are getting noticed, especially in gym. All we need is to de-nerdify you."

"You think I'm a nerd?" Danny asked, pretending to sound wounded. "Au contraire, Miss Manson. I own the latest in pocket protector technology. Does that make me a nerd?" She opened her mouth to retort but he laughed and pushed her wheelie chair, propelling her away from him. "Don't answer that."

"Danny, you know what I mean!" Sam laughed, standing up and lightly shoving him in his chest.

"Yes, yes, Sammy, I know what you mean."

"So? I'll pay for your new stuff and I'LL do all the work." Sam bartered, plopping daintily onto her four poster bed. Danny's expression turned thoughtful.

"You're sure about this?" He murmured, sounding skeptical.

"Of course!" Sam smiled tightly.

"I guess it doesn't hurt to try. But I'LL be paying for everything." Danny said, smiling crookedly.


4 and a half hours, 13 pairs of dark-wash jeans, 17 band t-shirts and 3 pairs of skater shoes later, Sam wanted to drop dead. She didn't go shopping all that often, and with the shopping bags digging into the pale flesh of her arms, she was severly tempted to call it quits. But oh, man, it was totally worth screaming arches to watch Danny try on super-low slung denim jeans and tight surfer shirts that defined every ghost-fighting earned muscle...

The Goth tapped on Danny's shoulder and began to speak. "Dan, I'm gonna go sit down in one of the couches out there-" But then he turned around and knocked the breath out of her. As Danny turned, his onyx hair swept over his face that were currently adorned with black aviator sunglasses and Sam suddenly couldn't breathe.

"Sam? What are you looking at?" His tenor voice shocked her out of her stupor and she shook her head, blinking rapidly. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah...I was looking at, uh..." Her eyes roved wildly around the store, trying to find an excuse to what had made her stop in her tracks. Then she found the perfect excuse.

She pointed to the back of the store. "Those guys back there." She said in a hushed voice, as if she couldn't tell they were total tools.

There was a guy with black hair and red streaks, with abggy black jeans with a chain hanging from the belt loops. An old band that sam didn't recognize was printed on his black t-shirt. He also had red and black skater shoes that looked like they would fly off should he run. Another guy had long blonde hair with brown roots and he was wearing charcoal eyeliner. Finally, the last guy, who had spiky green hair and looked the most emo of the three.

Danny bit his lip to keep from saying anything. Those guys were total losers and he was pretty sure Sam knew it. Why would she like them?

Sam blushed as Danny eyed the three with disdain. "Whatever," He said, irritation edging it's way into his voice.

"Danny," She glared, "I can like anyone I want. YOU are the one who asked what I was looking at."

"I'm sorry, Sam, you're right." Danny said quietly, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "I'm just not used to my best friend Sammy growing up." He whipped away an imaginary tear and Sam pushed him away, forcing a laugh to soften her actions.

"Danny! We are her to get YOU a girlfriend! You think I'M used to seeing you make out with girls? You're still the little 6 year old in my mind." Sam lied, averting her eyes. Danny's cheeks burned in shame, scowling. A...6 year old?

"Yeah, well, you're one of the guys to me, so it's weird to see you crushing on a guy." Danny said casually, going over to the closest clothing rack so Sam wouldn't see his eyes and know that he lied.

Sam's heart contracted as Danny turned his back and removed the sunglasses, and a knot of tears rose in her throat.