Hellooooo, people who are still reading this!

Which are three, as far as we know.

Our fault for staying away for so long. Oops?*grins sheepishly*

Oh, well! We're very happy that they are still reading this, though! As long as one person keeps reading, we'll continue to write! :) A gigantic THANK YOU and chocolate chip cookies to our reviewers: piequeenthegreat (thank you, darling!) and wolfhead (sorry! My cruelness just can't be contained =D). Wow, that's a gigantic difference from last chapter.

We've changed our penname from GoThyK SyA to NixenSya, if you haven't noticed yet. :)

By the way, do any of you sail through the Powerpuff Girls fandom? I've fallen in love with a fic there, More Than Human. It's amazing! *squeals fangirlishly*

We're also writing a fic for that fandom.

Yeah, but don't worry! Even though it's also a multi–chapter fic (sorry, we know we shouldn't start ANOTHER while we still have two ongoing ones) we'll update the three of them at the same time, so that there won't be space for complaints and––

You talk too much. Shut it, imaginary stuff.

I'm the imaginary stuff? What does that make you then?

It makes me say ON WITH THE FIC! Haha, I won!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO––

Sam + Twin = Trouble

Chapter 11 – And All That Jazz

It was a bright, sunny day in Amity Park, with reasonable chance of ghost attacks and high concentration of questions asked by our resident Goth girl.

"But how did it happen? Why are you colours reversed? Why are your eyes green and not red, since red is the opposite of blue in the colour wheel? How did you learn to use your powers? Man, it was so cool when you froze her guitar! How did you freeze it, by the way? Can all ghosts do that? What is your favourite colour? Does a hybrid of a human and a ghost have any special name? Who was that ghost, anyway? How––mmphmph!"

Tucker raised an eyebrow at Danny, who had his palm over Sam's constantly rambling mouth. The halfa shrugged, looking slightly put out. Their Sam didn't speak so much.

With a sigh, Danny started to answer. "I was on an accident envolving my parents' Ghost Portal. Probably because of the ghost DNA. I have no idea. It took some time and lots of embarrassing situations. I used my ice powers and no, not all ghosts can do that. Halfa. That was Ember. Is that it? You are way too curious for your own good."

Sam shrugged, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Argh! You licked my hand!"

"Well, I couldn't answer when you had it over my mouth!" she grinned happily. "By the way, your favourite colour is halfa? How come?"

Danny groaned, trying his best to ignore the chuckles coming from the other two.

"I swear, you're going to be the death of me!"

"But aren't you already half–dead?"

"Not the point."

"Is too."

"Is not. And I'm not arguing about this like a five–year–old."

"A seven–year–old, more like it. And you are too!"

"Are not!"

"Hah! You fell for it!"

"Guys!" Tucker intervened, amused but also slightly irritated by their banter. "Look who's home!"

"Who?" asked Sam, even though she probably wouldn't recognize the person.

A feminine shriek answered her. "DANNY!"

A blur of orange launched itself at the raven–haired teenager, who had a difficult time holding himself upright.

"Jazz!" he shouted happily, hugging the blur (which they could now see that was a girl). "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in New York?"

Sam eyed the pair uncomfortably. "Hum, Tucker? Who is she?"

The woman detangled herself from Danny, turning to face the other teens.

"Sam! Tucker! It's so good to see you!"

She gathered both of them in another tight hug.

"Jazz," Tucker jested, though he was grinning. "We can't breathe!"

"Oh! Sorry!"

"Erm, no that I don't appreciate being hugged by complete strangers in the middle of the road but... Who are you?"

Silence. Then Jazz started to laugh.

"Oh, Sam! You're so funny!"

"Eh, Jazz? She's being serious. She had a little... accident and lost her memory," explained Danny, rubbing the back of his neck.

"An accident, you say?" Jazz stared curiously at the violet–eyed teenager. "What happened? I may be able to help."

Danny sighed, relieved. "Jazz, you're an angel. Did you know that?"

"Ahem. Guys, I'm still blank here," intervened a suspicious (and slightly jealous) Sam. "And back to my initial question: who are you?"

Jazz smiled at the expectant look in the girl's face. "Why don't we go inside and discuss everything?"

Fenton Works

Sam fidgeted self–consciously in her seat. The Fenton household (at least she deduced that the name was Fenton, considering the gigantic sign outside) was cosy, warm and had a feeling of familiarity that would be strangely comforting if she didn't feel so out of her element.

She felt like a bird with clipped wings in a golden cage: snug and sheltered but unable to fly away.

There were explosions constantly shaking the whole house but none of the other occupants of the room seemed to be bothered by it. Sam had a feeling that it was pretty much the norm around that house.

Another thing that irked her was the obvious proximity of that... Jazz girl to Blue Eyes That Sometimes Are Green (she kept forgetting to call him by his name). The two of them – or rather, the three of them, even though Tucker didn't seem as close to Jazz as Blue Eyes was. Erm, Danny. That was his name, right?

Well, whatever it was, she didn't like it. Was she his girlfriend? An ex, perhaps? She seemed to be a few years older than him, but relationships like that weren't unheard of – even though the genders were usually inverted. Plus, Danny was the kind of guy most girls would love to date. And that Jazz girl was awfully pretty, too.

Sam felt a pout coming up.

"Here you go, guys. Fresh lemonade for everyone!"

The Goth girl took her cup in both hands, hard–earned habits making her wait until someone else drunk before she took a sip of the lemon–flavoured drink.

It was good, she noted with bewilderment. Very good, in fact. Fresh, sweet and citrus–y, with a pleasant aftertaste. And it didn't taste like it was poisoned.

In Sam's opinion, it was simply divinal.

"Mmm," she moaned in delight, taking a bigger gulp this time. "This is delicious!"

The other three chuckled.

"You always did love Dannyyyy... 's lemonade," sniggered Tucker. She would have narrowed her eyes at him, but she was too lost in lemonade bliss to do so.

Next to Danny, Jazz giggled. Internally, Sam winced. Even the sound was cute. She couldn't possibly beat her. And she was just starting to like Danny, too!

"Yeah, my little brother does make the best lemonade, doesn't he?" Jazz giggled again and Sam's brain seemed to freeze as the red–headed woman ruffled Danny's hair.

Little brother?

Was it possible that she was... wrong?

It was with relief that she processed the information. They did act awfully like siblings, even if their physical appearance wasn't very much alike.

Sam was never so glad to be wrong.

"Sooo... Is anyone going to tell me what is going on?" Jazz asked, smiling.

Danny smiled back. "Introductions first. Jazz, you already know Sam. Sam, this is my sister Jasmine––"

"Just call me Jazz!" she interrupted happily, beaming all the while. It was starting to creep her out, to be honest.

"––Jazz, who is supposed to be psycho–analysing a bunch of people in New York. By the way, you still haven't told us why you're here," said Danny, casting his sister a suspicious glance.

Jazz waved him off. "That is a story for another time, little bro. What I want to know is: what happened to Sam?"

Tucker put his feet on Jazz's lap, munching on another Nasty Burger. The red–head promptly shoved them back to the floor. Sam, silently cheering on Jazz (now that she knew that Jazz wasn't competition, she even kind of liked the girl), winced at the smell of grilled meat.

"Well," started Danny, smiling at his friends' antics. "Let's just say that Sam lost a lot of blood and ended up at the hospital. Next thing we now, we hear screams inside and suddenly she comes flying through the window––"

"It was freakin' amazing, let me tell you. Awesome, really––"

"––bangs her head really hard on the sidewalk – by the way, I'm guessing that she lost her memory then, but I'm not quite sure. I mean, she was in coma for a week, it's not like we can guess if she still remembered anything by then––"

"Wait, wait, wait! She was in comatose for a week? How come you didn't mention that before?"

"Uh, sorry?" Danny winced, knowing that she was going to blow up.

"DANIEL JAMES FENTON, HOW COULD YOU NOT INFORM YOUR SISTER OF ANY OF THIS? ONE OF YOUR BEST FRIENDS, FOR EINSTEIN'S SAKE, ONE OF YOUR BEST FRIENDS WAS IN COMA – BY WHICH I CAN ONLY PRESUME THAT SHE ALMOST DIED OF BLOODLOSS – AND YOU COULDN'T DISPONIBILIZE A FEW SECONDS TO CALL YOUR OWN SISTER, WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE FRIENDS WITH AFOREMENTIONED GIRL, TO NOTIFY HER OF THE SITUATION? WHAT KIND OF BROTHER ARE YOU?"

Sam clapped enthusiastically.

"That's an impressive set of lungs you have there! Did you ever think of learning to play tuba?"

Three pairs of eyes stared incredulously at her.

"What? She could have a great future in music, you know. She already goes by 'Jazz' and everything..."

Tucker was the first to break out of the disbelieving stare.

"You know, you could be right!" he sniggered. "Her first album could be named 'And All That Jazz'."

Jazz was unimpressed.

"Warn me when you're done with the 'Jazz' puns."

Sam grinned predatorily.

"Somehow, I don't think it's going to be all that soon."

Aaaaaaaaaaaand that's all for now, folks!

Our tummy aches, so we're going to drink some hot chocolate, curl up in bed and forsake study for another day. We've been overflowing with tests, this week's and the last one's, since we were sick then. So, lots of verses, lOld Portuguese gibberish, enzimes, nuclear reactions, and mind–numbing boredom for us.

So, buh–bye! Also, we're changing our penname to NixenSya.

Oh, and don't forget to click that shiny magic REVIEW button. I heard it makes chocolate appear whenever someone clicks it.

Which is to say: REVIEW!

Arriverderci, everyone!

Luv u guys!

NixenSya