Danny Phantom Fan Fiction ❯ Ghost of a Chance ❯ Chapter 1

One Sunday morn this pops into my head, and I roll with it. I be rolling.

((I've been talking like that for a few days. I must stop.))

Don't worry if at first glance you don't like the pairings. Who knows? I might change them.

Title not so good. I'm still working out the dynamics of this story. If the title changes, well, that's not uncommon with me.

 

Ghost of a Chance

Chapter One: Work and Play

 

There was loud knocking on the door, and Tucker didn't like it. He knew who it was, what said person wanted, and that said person would probably be ready to do whatever she can to annoy him this morning. So it was probably in his best interest to annoy her first, lest he be annoyed.

 

He grabbed his coffee (sweet nectar that it was) and leaned beside the door so she could not see him. Her knocking was growing with frustration, but he just smiled and took a sip.

 

“I wonder who could be knocking at my door,” he said in a loud voice, certain she could hear him. “It is too early for visitors.”

 

It was most definitely Sam's voice on the other end. “Why, it's Scary Robber Lady,” she said in her usual sarcastic tone. “She's here to steal all your valuables.”

 

He bit back a chuckle. “Scary Robber Lady came to the wrong place. The most valuable thing I've got in here I'm still making payments on.”

 

“She says let her in before she breaks down the door.” The door actually shuddered, and he tried to think how much he'd have to pay to replace it. Would he have to get the same off white chipped paint with broken number? It was probably free. You just had to dig it out of a trash can somewhere.

 

He opened the door, smiling as Sam huffed through, clearly annoyed at the length of time he was taking to get ready. Her annoyance would probably only grow throughout the day, so he might as well start breaking down that will to live. (Sam wasn't the suicide type though, was she? She'd probably come to work one day with a shot gun and start blowing brains out. Just because she was against violence didn't mean she didn't know how to break a man.)

 

“Good morning,” he said as cheerily as possible, ignoring the evil eye she was giving him. “What are we up to this lovely day? A walk in the park? That depressing museum exhibit you want to see? Later we can see that disturbing French film you've been talking about all week.”

 

“Shut up, Tucker,” she said.

 

“Oh that's right.” He gave a depressing sigh. “What sad fate. Work it is. I guess I should pay my rent and eat this week.”

 

“If you don't show me coffee I'm pushing you out a window.”

 

He laughed and handed her a mug. She quickly filled it and downed it in a gulp.

 

“I really should've just taken that stupid job my parents offered,” she said, getting another cup. “At least then I'd have money.”

 

“You always told me you lived better without money.” He sat down beside her, wondering if the clock was trying to tell him he was late or if he had enough time for more coffee. “Remember? `Live off the land' and all that.”

 

“Bums live off the land. I need air conditioning and internet. Besides, living off the land in my parents' world is the same as finding a nice, rich man who'll pay for everything until I don't want him around anymore. Then I'll marry some rich old geezer and have various affairs until he dies. I'll have all his money, and then I'll follow my dreams.”

 

“You could marry a hobo,” Tucker suggested. “Hobos are eccentric bums.”

 

She smiled, grabbing the coffee and wondering if she could chug it all at once. “I'd be Queen of the Hobos. Money wouldn't be a problem, and I don't eat meat anyway. I'll just chew on muddy paper and drink heated dirt.”

 

“I knew a hobo once. He lived in our trash can. I brought him papers and scraps of the food we ate. He was flea-infested and had a pet rat that bit my sister and gave her a disease. We finally hosed him down and he ran away, back to a life where you gain the trust of small children.”

 

“Enough talk!” Sam jumped up, slamming down her cup.

 

“Hey!” he said. “I actually paid money on these.”

 

“Doesn't matter! We're late!”

 

No… She wouldn't have a shot gun. Probably just explode the entire building and join some insane organization to hide her identity.

 

---

 

“Sam, I'm telling you. They're not going to let you do a story on keeping the tigers in cages at the circus.”

 

“But…”

 

“No. Children are not scarred for life by them.”

 

“I was!”

 

“You came out scarred for life. Your first words were probably `Save the whales!'”

 

“Sam! Tucker!”

 

They jumped up, swiveling their chairs away from each other as if they'd been working the entire time. (Certainly not discussing Sam's plan to free animals from the circus or Tucker's perfect heist of the electronics store! No, for they were good little children.)

 

Molly Sweet stood in front of them in all her business glory, glaring down like the mother who'd caught the children with their hands in the cookie jar.

 

“No, Tucker,” Sam said loudly, pretending to be oblivious to the chief editor before them. “That's totally the wrong angle for that story. Everyone knows people want lower prices on gadgetry. I'm not paying three times my salary for a cell phone.”

 

“You're completely right, Sam!” he shouted in faux epiphany. “I guess I'll have to go find cheaper prices.”

 

Molly rolled her eyes and grabbed the back of Sam's chair, pulling her towards Tucker and sitting them down like disciplined school children.

 

“You two need to stop talking and work,” she said, going straight to the point. Molly was like that. It made both of them cringe. “I haven't gotten either of your stories, and your deadlines are today. I need those stories.”

 

“Already sent mine in,” Tucker piped up. “Two seconds ago.”

 

Molly sent him a pointed look, and he sheepishly moved his fingers to the keyboard. Sam shrugged her shoulders and kicked her chair over to her desk.

 

“I need 23 more words,” she said. “It'll be done and ready to print.”

 

Molly made a noise that clearly stated she didn't believe her, but decided against saying anything else. She turned on her heel and moved to the next people she needed to yell at.

 

Sam glanced at Tucker, who bit back a smile. She opened an IM window, signing on with her usual name. Tuck followed suit, keeping a careful eye on Molly as she stalked and yelled.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: Molly's getting anal again.

 

TechGeek45: It must be that time of the month.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: One day a woman will beat you senseless and you won't be able to figure out why.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: Anyway, I need a favor.

 

TechGeek45: Is this going to hurt?

 

TechGeek45: This doesn't involve scarring children by freeing lions again, does it?

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: No.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: I wish.

 

TechGeek45: What is it?

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: I need to go to one of those stupid parties my parents have every other week.

 

TechGeek45: I thought you didn't have to do that anymore.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: Not since college.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: But this is a favor they need. I agreed to go along with it.

 

TechGeek45: Why? You hate those things.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: They can't make it, but they need some family there. Since I'm their only child, I might as well, and I can brave one with the promise of free drinks.

 

TechGeek45: What do you need me for?

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: I need a date.

 

TechGeek45: I hate those things too. I'm not going.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: Please! I need someone there who isn't pretentious or pure evil.

 

TechGeek45: You don't know. I could secretly be high society.

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: You? Never.

 

TechGeek45: What do I get?

 

GothicMistressofAngryFruit: Free drinks and you won't have to wear a suit.

 

TechGeek45: I do love free stuff. And drinks. Together it's pure awesome.

 

Sam smiled, leaning back in her seat.

 

“Sam!” Molly screamed from across the room. “Work!”

 

She tried to ignore Tucker's laugh.

 

Notes:

This is most definitely an AU, just so you know. It's probably obvious, but I'll point it out anyway: Sam and Tucker are reporters. The exact nature of their jobs is going to be explained in further detail.

Most of the dialogue in this went through my head this morning, and I knew I needed to write something for it. Then a plot kind of followed, and this was created.

Next Chapter: the mysterious Inviso-Bill, and why he hates that name.