Since I've already done a one-shot and a two-shot, I'd figured I'd try something different this time. Here's a full on story, if I make it into one! I'm not sure where to take this yet, but I've got a few ideas already so no worries. (:
Her mother looked up from her lobster, daintily placing her fork and knife at the side of her plate. She placed her gloved hands in her lap, her turquoise eyes landing expectantly on her daughter's tiny figure.
"Yes, Samantha?" Her mother inquired with a polite, nearly fake voice. Said daughter winced at the sound of her full name.
"Uh," she began meekly, cursing herself for seeming so feeble. With her shoulders raised higher and a bolder face, she said, "The animal shelter is leading a peaceful protest this Saturday, and I was wondering if I could go..."
The raven haired teen felt odd, asking her mother permission for an event like this. She never had before, but she figured if her parents were more involved in her interests, they'd have a better relationship.
"What will be happening at this 'peaceful protest' Samantha? Not another one of those angry riots, I hope." Her mother frowned disapprovingly, thinking back to some of Sam's rebellious protesting against her parents' word.
"No, actually," the goth said. "It's the opposite. It means what it says. Basically, we're going to go around the city posting fliers and spreading the word about animal cruelty and how it should be prevented." She fiddled with her napkin on her lap.
"Oh. Well, who is 'we?'"
"Well, just some random animal lovers and people like me."
Sam regretted her last statement. By 'people like me,' her mother probably thought of other goths and people similarly dark.
"Sammy-kins, dear, I don't think it's a good idea to be around people like that." Her mother stated calmly, picking her fork and knife back into her hands and delicately sliced through her lobster meat. Sam shuddered.
"Why not?" She asked defensively.
"Well sweetie," her mother frowned, not looking up to meet her daughter's eyes. "I don't really want you to be influenced by people like that. Look at your appearance now! You're very dark and, pardon me, gloomy, and not at all interested in the family."
"What does my appearance have to do with who I am?" Sam asked, straining to keep her voice down as frustration welled inside her. "And maybe I like being dark and gloomy. That's who I am."
"Appearance is everything, Samantha!" Her mother lectured. "How will you keep the family name in respects of common people if you don't express us through yourself?"
"Maybe I don't want to show off my money, Mom." Sam ground out through clenched teeth. "Maybe I like being respected for who I am, not for how many bills I have in my pocket."
"It's not necessarily showing off, Samantha." Her mother stated calmly. "We just happen to be very wealthy and well-off, and people should be able to see our success through our smiling faces. Not by dark, grungy clothes and bad attitudes."
"People don't have to be rich to be happy," the goth girl argued, feeling her fists clench. "My clothes are not grungy, and I do not have a bad attitude!"
"Lower your voice and speak respectfully to your mother, Samantha." Her father instructed sternly, having said his first words at the table. He was nearly done with his roasted pork, and Sam cringed as the smell wafted from his breath. Her mother nodded.
"Anyways, I'm glad you asked permission first. I wouldn't want you hanging around those filthy animal people any longer than you already do, and I'd like you to spend more time with your father and myself from now on. Things need to change, starting with your activities and appearance, Samantha-"
"Do NOT call me Samantha!"
The clatter of utensils against plates stopped. All went silent.
"Now dear-" Her mother began, but was silenced by Sam's next outburst.
"No!" She yelled, standing from her chair with her fists clenched at her sides. "I'm tired of you not respecting me! Just because I like dark colors and don't smile all the time does not make me a bad person! And you know what, animal rights protesting is a good thing, for the benefit of animals that we humans take for granted! I wanted you to understand my interests, and maybe accept my personality instead of always asking me to be someone I'm not!"
"But we just want you to be happy, Samantha!" Her father pleaded.
"Stop calling me that! I hate that name! My name is SAM!" Her face felt hot, and she could feel pressure building up in her eyes. "And maybe I am happy! Maybe I don't need all those stupid pink clothes and money and sunshine to be happy in the first place!"
Feeling tears ready to waterfall from her eyes, the angered goth girl stormed out of the dining room. She rushed up the stairs, not bothering to answer the servants worried calls, ran into her room and slammed the door behind her.
Her parents cast a sad glance at each other as the door shut violently.
Inside, Sam snuggled into the comfort of her blankets and pillows and cried.
Sam let out a bitter sigh.
It had been a few hours since the dinner incident. Although Sam felt guilty towards the anger she directed at her parents, she held on to her words.
Her parents didn't want to help her. Well, maybe they did, but not in the way they thought. All they wanted to do was make her happy, she'd been told, but she knew that wasn't the truth. If that was so, why couldn't she allowed to be a free spirit? Whether her parents could see it or not, they could never make her happy. Always too busy working or going to parties or traveling... never making time for her.
Did they even know what made her happy in the first place?
Maybe she didn't deserve it. Sure. But for once, she'd like to be a little selfish.
For once, she'd like them to go that extra mile because they loved her.
'Like that would ever happen though,' she thought absently, picking through her stands of hair. Her parents had told her she'd gotten her grandmother's looks, but was it really so? The only similarity between her grandmother and herself appearance wise were their eyes, which didn't explain her black hair. Or her heart shaped face, contrasting greatly with her mother and grandmother's diamond shaped ones, and her father's square face.
And her nose, she lightly tapped, was small and round, unlike both her parents' much larger, angled noses.
So maybe... she was adopted? Yet with that theory, Sam felt no better and no worse than she had contemplating she had birth defects. Depression? Down syndrome? What?
She loved her parents. She honestly did. But if Pamela and Jeremy Manson were anything but her parents, she'd surely hate them.
They were the type of people that Sam despised. They used their money for useless treasures, and flaunted it every chance they got. They partied and mingled and gossiped about other rich folk, not really caring about anyone but themselves. All they did was enjoy their glasses of champagne and walk over everyone else.
Deciding she needed some fresh air and more time to think, Sam pulled on her favorite combat boots and climbed out her window.
"All clear over here, Danny."
"Thanks Tuck," said boy replied through his Fenton phone, cautiously scanning the ground below him. "I'm gonna make another sweep over, then I'll head back.
Reaching the end of the street, the snow-haired Phantom circled around and began his patrol. He swept down to the lampposts' level, making sure nothing was hiding in the dark where he couldn't see.
Seeing nothing out of the norm, he quickened his flight and sped over to the next street, flipping in the air as he pivoted.
A few blocks down, Sam Manson was silently strolling farther and farther from her house.
'Jeez, to think I'd forget to bring a stun-gun or pepper spray or something,' Sam thought as she rolled her eyes. Not that Amity Park was known for kidnapping or mugging, it was always best to be prepared. But now that she thought about it, it might have been better to buy some ghost equipment instead.
Hearing crickets chirp all around her slightly calmed her down, although she was still weary. The further from her house she was, the more tense she'd get. Not that she was a coward, oh hell no, she just didn't want to be caught unprepared and end up harmed.
And with a city like this, she wondered why they didn't have a Ghost Patrol or something.
"Hey man, mind if I crash at your place?" Came the buzzing sound from the Fenton Phone.
"Sure," Danny answered, confused. "How come though? I thought you were going home already."
"Yeah well," his friend yawned. "I'm beat, and your house is closer."
"'Kay then, see you in a bit."
Fighting his own yawn, the glowing boy turned into the rich neighborhoods, nearing the end of his patrol. He looked around, admiring the large mansions.
Then he spotted something.
A dark, moving figure was slowly making its way down the street.
Phantom's eyes narrowed.
Sam yawned, watching her feet as she walked across the sidewalk. Her boots clunked as she stepped. She figured she'd turn around and get back home eventually, but it was far to nice outside to turn back too soon. With the realization that the streets were empty and there would be no chance of danger tonight, the goth girl walked in comfort.
Until of course, her eye caught something glowing.
She looked up, startled, to see what exactly caught her glance. With a moment to focus, she noticed something sort of large and floating down the street. The raven haired girl stopped walking, curious and hesitant. She wondered what it could be, then froze in slight terror as she thought of the idea of a large, powerful, dangerous ghost.
And then she realized it was moving closer.
With a click of her chunky heels, she twirled 180 degrees and sped off in the direction of her home. Cursing herself for her stupidity, she tried to control her breathing and calm her erratically beating heart. 'Maybe it's just moving in this direction. Maybe it hasn't noticed you yet,' she thought. But with a quick turn of her head to see her prayer to truth, her expression paled.
Whatever was following her was coming straight for her, and gaining on her.
Wishing she had worn tennis shoes, she thanked the mighty being above for giving her the gift of speed as she sprinted a block closer to her home. She didn't even think of turning back to see the ghost behind her in better detail. Sure, she was into the whole dark and creepy ghost thing, but to be attacked by one? Not so much.
Danny sighed and picked up his pace, noticing the figure beginning to run. He wondered if she'd recognized him, but with a grimace he realized she probably wouldn't have cared. A ghost was a ghost, and all were considered dangerous. He just hoped he wasn't mentally scarring an innocent civilian.
He was about a yard away from the figure, which he noticed was a girl, when he decided to call out to her. "Hey, wait up!"
She jumped in response of his voice, now running faster. He groaned. 'Great job Fenton, you're making her run faster.'
Not bothering to waste her breath, Sam ran to her very limit and prayed it would be fast enough to outrace the ghost hot on her heels.
"Wait! I'm not going to hurt you!" Danny called, keeping his distance as to not scare her more.
"Yeah right!" Was the breathless response. Danny slapped his forehead.
With a quick boost, Danny propelled himself through the wind so that he was directly above her, then in front of her. He brought himself down and grabbed her by her arms, pulling her lightly off the ground for a few mere inches as her legs continued to frantically keep in motion. When she noticed the change in gravity, the goth panicked.
"Chill out! Jeez," Danny told her, pulling her a little further and setting her down on a bench. She let out a shaky, breathless yelp, scooting as far as she could to the edge of the bench.
The Phantom's wispy tail turned back into two solid legs, and he sat down on the opposite side of the bench with his arms crossed. He gave her a bored expression until her breathing calmed down. "You done?"
She could only manage a wide-eyed nod.
"Good," Danny pulled his fingers through his silvery-white hair. "You shouldn't be walking the streets alone at night. Some ghost might attack you."
"Like you?" Sam let out the airy response, feeling her sarcastic bite coming back. Danny rolled his eyes.
"I'm one of the good guys." He said, added a lopsided grin to add to effect. Sam could only raise an eyebrow.
"Oh really?" She asked , in which he nodded in response. She could feel her body calming down. "...Then what are you doing prowling the streets at night?"
He gave her a pointed look. "I'm not kidnapping humans, and yes I could so tell you were thinking that, and I'm not attacking anyone. I'm on patrol."
"Patrol." Sam almost laughed. Hadn't she been thinking about that during her walk?
"Pretty much," the ghost boy nodded, lifting his leg to rest against the bench. "So, what are you doing, prowling the streets at night?"
She glared. "Oh, ha ha. For your information, I have annoying parents, and some normal teenagers like to sneak out every once in a while. I needed some air."
"I see," Danny nodded, leaning back against the bench and staring into the sky. After that little chase, which he had to admit that girl was fast, he realized how tired he was.
Sam studied the features of her 'captor.' Snow white hair, glowing emerald eyes, black and white jumpsuit...
"Hey!" She exclaimed, snapping her fingers. Danny looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You're Danny Phantom, aren't you?"
"At your service," he grinned, enjoying the feeling of being recognized by someone who wasn't trying to rip him apart molecule by molecule.
"I've seen you on TV," Sam went on, grinning slightly. She leaned forward and set her arms over her crossed legs. "You saved the city from that Skulker guy."
He gave a slight bow. "Not my first run in with Skulker." He smiled.
"I also heard you kidnapped the mayor once." Sam said, eyebrows furrowed. "Was that really you though?"
"No, well yes, technically." Danny admitted. "The mayor was being possessed, and he grabbed my arms and yelled stupid stuff out to make it look like I kidnapped him."
"..Huh." Sam muttered. She could believe that.
"So you're a fan?"
She blinked. "Well, not really. But I hear about you every once in a while. I think the whole protecting the city thing is neat."
"I'm surprised though," the ghost boy said, unfolding his arms and spreading them across the bench. "Most people hate my guts. Why not you?"
Sam looked up at the sky, recalling the stories of the ghost boy. "Well, you save people all the time, and sometimes you can be pretty clumsy, so I'm guessing all the bad stuff happens by accident. I mean, it's not like you're trying to destroy buildings." She gave him a searching look. "Right?"
Danny paused, staring at her. "...Yeah," he finally nodded. "You know, you have really unnatural eyes."
Sam looked down, eyebrows furrowed. "I know. It's really freaky."
"Oh, no." He laughed. "Coming from a person with glowing green eyes, I didn't mean it like that."
She looked back up at him, curious.
"I mean, I've never seen that color before. It's really pretty."
"Oh." Sam murmured, turning beet red. Danny's cheeks tinted slight pink as the girl across from him blushed. "I...see. Thanks, I guess."
"Uh, yeah." He coughed, looking away and scratching the back of his neck. "No problem.."
A pregnant silence ensued between the two, each glancing in each others' direction.
"So-" They both stood up at the same time, turning identically red as they awkwardly laughed. Sam grinned sheepishly.
"I gotta get home," she said, pointing her thumb in the direction of her house.
Danny looked at her with a surprised expression. "You live down here?" She blinked.
"Woah... you must be loaded."
There was no response, and Danny watched as her eyes seemed to darken. Her pout lips set into a deep frown.
"Sorry.." He murmured, his hand reaching up behind his neck. "I didn't... didn't mean to..."
"It's fine," Sam gave him a weary smile. "It was nice meeting you, Phantom."
"Yeah.." He almost turned to fly away, but then realized he'd forgotten something. "Hey, wait!"
She turned around on her heel, giving him an expectant look.
"What's your name?" He asked.
She felt a blush creep up as she smiled at the ghost boy. "Sam... Sam Manson."
"It was..." He now sported his own blush. "Nice talking to you... Sam. See you around."
He began to float away, as he heard something from the goth girl below him.
"See you, Danny."
He wore a goofy grin and a permanent blush as he flew home, the name 'Sam Manson' echoing in his head.
"Dude, where have you been?"
Danny had just drifted in from intangibility when he heard his best friend call out to him. He set down on his familiar hardwood floors, becoming comfortable in the confines of his own room. With a quick halo of light, he was back to human Danny Fenton.
"Jeez, Mom," Danny teased. "Overprotective much?"
"Oh please." Tucker waved his hand in dismissal, lounging in Danny's computer chair. "You were gone way longer than it takes to get back here, and you weren't answer the Fenton Phones." Tucker tapped his ear, where the earring-like filters were set snugly.
"Well for your information, there was someone on the street."
"Oh, really?" Tucker quipped. "Another ghost?"
"Nah, just a girl."
At the mention of the female sex, the dark-skinned boy acquired a sly grin. "A girl, huh? What was her name?"
"Why would you think I knew her name?" Danny shot Tucker a glare. "Just 'cause it was a girl doesn't mean I talked to her or anything."
"Oh, but you did." Tucker laughed. "It's written all over your face. What else could've taken you so long to get home?"
"Fine," Danny replied grumpily, crossing his arms and falling backwards onto his bed. "So we did talk a little."
"And what'd she say?"
"Well first I kind of scared her and chased her down the street..."
"When they say 'skirt-chasing,' they don't mean it literally."
"Shut up, Tuck. Anyway, I kind of freaked her out until I set her on a bench and calmed her down. Then I asked her what she was doing out, and she said she snuck out 'cause she was fed up with her parents."
"Ahh, the famous 'annoying parents keep bothering me' excuse."
Danny nodded. "So then she kind of recognized me and we talked about me saving the city and stuff."
Tucker grinned. "Boosting your ego, huh?" The halfa rolled his eyes.
"Yeah.. and then I kind of told her her eyes were pretty and it got all awkward and I left."
"Woah woah woah," Tucker put his hands up. "Back up. You told her what?"
Danny groaned, putting his face in his hands as his ears began to burn. "I said her eyes were pretty and it got all awkward."
"Aww Danny, you sly dog!" Tucker hooted, slapping his friend on the back as congratulations. "Got her number?"
"No, but I got her name." Danny smiled at the memory. 'See you, Danny.'
"And that name was..?" His friend inquired.
"Manson?" The techno geek's jaw dropped. "Dude, she's loaded!"
"That's what I said!" Danny exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "But then she got all offended so I shut up.."
"Okay so," Tucker shook his head. "You freaked out some chick, who actually turned out to be some filthy rich kid, flirted with her, and all you got was her name?"
The ghost boy raised his eyebrows. "What else was I supposed to get? And I didn't really flirt with her..."
"I don't know, a phone number, a date, a code to her bank account?"
"That's mean, Tuck."
"Whatever!" He waved his hand at his buddy. "The point is, you met a hot, rich chick who isn't completely terrified of you and isn't totally obsessed with you, and all you got was her name."
"Well, maybe she goes to our school..?" Danny supplied sheepishly.
"Or maybe she goes to some prestigious rich kid school on the other side of town," Tucker said sarcastically. Danny frowned.
"Just keep an eye out for her dude," the electronic whiz patted his friend's shoulder. "She may be someone worth your while."
"Where have you been?"
Sam winced at the tone in her mother's voice. She felt partly guilty, but mostly annoyed.
"Out fishing." The goth replied spitefully, glaring past her angry parents. On her way back up the tree, she noticed that her bedroom window was locked, and with a groan climbed back down and headed for the door. She'd better be prepared to meet the wrath of her parents.
So here she was, half-listening to her mother rant on about her talking back to her parents, and sneaking out, and oh no her safety-!
"Relax, Mom." Sam rolled her eyes, fighting back a yawn. "I ran into the Ghost Patrol."
Her mother's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who's the 'Ghost Patrol?'"
"Oh, you know," Sam smirked. "Danny Phantom. The guy who kidnapped the mayor. Remember? It was on the news."
Enjoying the look of total disbelief on her mother's face, her glee was short-lived as Pamela's face turned an ugly shade of red.
"Samantha Manson." She spoke in a stern, no-nonsense tone. Said girl winced.
"You are not to leave this house without permission any time of the day. After this moment, you will not leave the house at all after 6:00PM and you must be home by 4:30. If you fail to do as I say," her mother said, a hardened look on her face, "I will take away all of your clothes and dark colored belongings and donate them to charity. Then, I will replace all of it with whatever color I please. Do you understand?"
Sam bit her lip, grimacing as she tasted the metallic flavor of blood. "...Yes.." She muttered, looking down at her worn boots.
"What was that?" Her mother said in a sharp tone. "Speak up. We will not mutter when speaking to respected elders, Samantha."
Sam growled under her breath, looking up at her mother and giving her a scathing glare. "Yes, Mother. I understand." And with that, the pissed off teenager stormed to her room and slammed the door.
A weary Jeremy Manson gave his wife a pitying look.
What'd you think? (: Remember to give me critiques; I aim to please and improve!