Caught While Sleeping

Part two of two:
Danny's POV

Sam's sitting on a stool in front of me, legs crossed. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her raven black hair down to her shoulders. Her face is at the angle where it seems like she's studying the ground, but her eyes are on me. She's looking really good in that jean jacket, halter top, mini skirt, and those leather boots. Without moving a budge, I keep my gaze heavy on her.

All of a sudden, acknowledging my presence, Sam gives me the Look. With her lips puckered a little and her eyebrows cocked, I go weak at the knees. It's the expression that makes me melt at the sight of her, the one that tells me she wants something – in which she's bound to get. I can't help but stare right at her, being in some sort of trance. As if reading my face, Sam calls out to me.

"Danny," she whispers, her tone high on the first syllable of my name. She bats her eyes, a gesture that draws me closer to reaching out for her hand. And giving in, I extend my fingers toward her hand…

BAM!

Waking up with a jolt, my eyes opened immediately. I tried to focus on the object hitting (and hitting and hitting and hitting) me. When the hitter paused to take a break, I cleared my throat.

"Are you done?" I asked, my voice raspy from sleep. Suddenly, my sister's face popped out from behind a pillow, the object raised over my head.

So that was the thing hitting me. And she was the hitter.

"That depends," Jazz replied with a grin. "Are you awake?"

I snorted. "No, I'm sleep-talking," I snapped back sarcastically. I groaned, propping myself up on my elbows. I glanced over my shoulder to my digital clock, noticing that it showed the time 12:46 pm. I turned my attention back to Jazz, watching as she tossed the pillow onto my bed, barely missing my face.

"Mom said for you to get up," she explained for her actions, inching toward my bedroom door, "so don't get mad at me." She was halfway out the exit, but lingered at the door, turning to face me once more. "Oh yeah. She also said to visit Sam. She had stopped by yesterday, but you were sleeping." My throat soon closed up on me.

Sam?

Here?

While I was sleeping?

Darn, that wasn't good. Everyone tells me that I drool and snore while I sleep. And if she'd caught me sleeping...and drooling...and snoring...

Ugh.

I watched as Jazz slipped out of my room, a smirk on her face. I lay back down, pressing my head into my smushy pillow. I closed my eyes, thinking back to yesterday afternoon. When had Sam come over? I remembered inviting her over…waiting for her while reading that book for Literature…

Oh yeah. Now I remember.

I jumped off my bed, heading toward the bathroom right next door. On my way there, I yawned loudly, not caring whether Mom and Dad heard it downstairs or not. I smacked my lips together obnoxiously, passing by Jazz's room. I peered in for a second, watching as she shook her head in annoyance. A triumphant smirk on my face, I made my way into the bathroom.

After showering and tooth-brushing and hair-brushing and such, I jogged downstairs, slipping into the kitchen. Mom and Dad were at the table, sharing a cup of coffee and their all-time-famous Fenton Toast. I smiled to myself, a memory coming back to me. Sam's face soon appeared in my mind, along with that sick expression she had that showed that day. Tucker and I hadn't seen her at school, so we went over to her mansion. We soon figured out that Sam had gotten food poisoning from Dad's Fenton Toast.

"I swear," Sam had muttered, shivering under the covers, "your mom and dad probably made this toast to kill ghosts. I bet it only tastes good to the creators and kills ghosts and makes normal people sick."

"But you're weird," Tucker piped up, cocking and eyebrow.

I remember Sam glaring him daggers after he had said that. "So are you. And?" Tucker shrugged in silent response. "Then it just makes weird people feel sick, but they aren't really sick."

I chuckled under my breath, not noticing my parents looking at me. Climbing back down to reality, I faced my Mom and Dad as they continued to stare. I felt like they knew what I was thinking about. It looked like it, too.

Maybe they want to feed me Fenton Toast…!

Maybe they are going to force it down my throat…!

Maybe –

"Dan?" Mom called out, her voice concerned. "Is something wrong?" I watched as Dad's face suddenly radiated with child-like happiness.

Uh oh.

"You want some Fenton Toast, Son?" he insisted, shoving the piece of toast in my face. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. It was…so close…to my...face…

Ew!

"No thanks," I quickly answered, panicking inside. I inched toward the front door, my hand unintentionally reaching toward it. I watched as my parents watched me.

"Er…okay then," Dad muttered, biting off a chunk of the toast. Mom smiled easily.

"Have fun at Sam's!" she cheered, waving at me. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know. So I just waved back, feeling more of and idiot each second passed.

Then I hurried out the door.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

I rang the doorbell at least fourteen times before anyone answered. When the door was opened, I had my eyes cast down. But when I raised my eyes, I saw the Manson butler standing there in the doorway.

"Mr. Fenton," he greeted monotonously.

Mocking the man, I parroted, "Mr. Butler." I watched as he remained in the doorway, a bored expression on his face. Man, did he look like he was having fun or what? I had a feeling that he didn't like being the Mansion's butler, but I didn't have an opinion in what was what. I wasn't going to give the man any grief.

Watching me watch him, he soon stepped back a few inches, unblocking the entrance. "Miss Samantha is in her bedroom." Not saying another word, I walked past him, heading for the living room.

I passed Mr. and Mrs. Manson, the two sitting on the couch, watching some movie. I think it was Rush Hour 2. I haven't seen the movie before, but I've heard it was pretty good. Wasn't Jackie Chan in it? Or was that some other movie? Oh well. Moving on.

When I made it to the grand staircase, I took one step before my mind started to wander off.

Why did Sam stop by, yestderday? Another step.

Did she want to tell me something? And another.

Did anything happen to her parents? And another.

Did something happen to Tuck? Did he find his PDA? And another.

Did anything happen to her? And another.

Did she want to end our friendship? And another.

And another, and another, and another, and another, and then one more. Then, when I went to walk up another step, my foot slammed down into the floor, and I stumbled a little before I realized I had made it up the stairs. I gazed around, confirming that I was in Sam's mansion's hallway.

The one upstairs.

I made my way to Sam's room, walking up to her closed bedroom door. I went to turn the knob, but them hesitated. What if she is doing something in private? I pulled my hand back, my eyes scanning the doorknob in doubt. What if she was changing? That would be horrible if I walked in on her. Suddenly, a sly grin creeped upon my face.

...or would it?

I mentally slapped myself. She's my best friend. I shouldn't think like that about her. I raised my hand, balling it up, ready to knock. I tapped on the door a few times before gripping the knob once more. I slowly turned the handle, pushing the door open a crack. It creaked open, exposing Sam's room.

But where was Sam?

I pushed the door all the way open, the dim light flooding the hallway. I was soon completely in her bedroom, closing the door behind me. The lamp on her nightstand's light wasn't as bright as I thought it would be. I shifted my gaze to the floor of her room. It was pretty messy, different types of clothes spread across her room. It was as if she was raiding her closet, looking for something to wear. Probably for some special occasion... I thought to myself, stepping over some pair of jeans and a teal v-neck shirt.

I smiled as I realized that was the outfit that Sam had worn to the movies a few weeks ago. She had spilled popcorn all over the seat, in the middle of the movie, because of some stupid scare in the film. She was muttering so loud, some person in the front row told her to shut up. Still mad at the stranger for telling her off, Sam went to sit in another seat, obviously because hers was full of butter and salt.

She attempted to sit in the seat next to me, having to walk around me. She tried not to step on me, but she lost her balance and landed in my lap. I hadn't minded, but I knew she was uncomfortable and was totally embarrassed. So, being the great guy-friend I am, I helped her up and held her hand until she made it to the other seat next to me.

But I hadn't let go of it for the rest of the movie.

Climbing back down to reality, I refocused my eyesight and realized I was staring at the image of my best friend. The one, in which, that was on her bed, sleeping peacefully. Sam lay on her side, her face toward me. With her lips pursed together, as if in a thinking manner, she looked innocent. Like she didn't have a care in the world. Her hair was all over the place, spread everywhere on the pillow under her head, her hands were buried underneath it as well. Suddenly, I heard her moan in her sleep.

"Danny..." she whispered softly, stirring slightly on her bed. I froze in terror of exposing. What if she finds me standing over her? She'd think I'm stalking her! "Do you...?" I slowly sat down on the bed next to her, daring to not wake her up. A smile flickered across my face as I continued to listen to my friend dream about me.

"Are you...going to...tell me...if you...do...?" Sam murmured. I watched as her lips formed the words she mumbled. My eyebrows knitted together as I tried to decode what Sam was saying.

What did she want me to tell her? Was there something I even needed to tell her? What was I, according to Sam, going to tell her I was going to do?

Eh...

I racked my brain for anything that sounded familiar.

Nope. Not that I know of.

I turned my attention back to Sam, watching as she sighed in her sleep. I sighed as well. She looked so beautiful... So peaceful... So innocent... My eyes widened with revelation.

Well, besides that.

I wordlessly brushed a strand of hair out of her face, my eyes scanning her dreamy expression. I watched as she, once more, stirred in her sleep. I slowly got up off her bed, stepping over another set of clothes. I went to walk out the door, but then hesitated. I glanced back over my shoulder to my best friend, waiting to hear if she would say anymore. And she did.

"I...l-love y-you...Danny..."

That was all it took. My heart skipped a beat as soon as I heard those four words. She loved me? A smile soon danced across my face as I continued to stare at Sam. She actually loved me? I watched as the expression on her face stayed the same, that sweet smile seemingly glued to her lips. A hesitant grin slowly began to develop on my face, but then broadened as big as it could get.

"I love you too, Sam," I whispered, still lingering at the door.

And then I walked home, my heart soaring.