Would You Love Me, If You Really Knew Me?

Lost Bet

*Danielle was never cloned in this universe, otherwise Vlad would easily recognize him. Lol!

This fic was inspired by Candypop Phantom by daymostar96. The main similarities are in this chapter, and the next, but I plan on going a different direction. Pompous Pep. Genderfluid Danny.

(None of the Danny Phantom characters belong to me. They Belong to Butch Hartman. Also, the pic used does not belong to me either.)

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Apprehensive light-blue eyes stared towards the far wall of the room. His gaze was unfocused but his mind was whirling anxiously and his heart beating a million miles an hour.

How had he gotten himself into this situation?

It was supposed to have been a sure win. There should have been no way he could lose a bet against Sam in Doom. A videogame he didn't even think she played.

Boy... had he been wrong.

Sam not only knew how to play the game, but was apparently one of the best online players to ever play! Having kept this from him and Tucker for over a year!

Well, if he was being honest... he should have known better.

Of the 9 years he had known Sam, he could probably list the times he has won a bet against the goth girl with one hand.

Actually... had he ever managed to win a bet against her?

Sighing deeply, he shook his head in defeat. He Really should have known better.

"Stop moving Danny!"

He flinched at her tone and stilled. He knew that his goth friend's patience was wearing thin. For the past hour it had been incredibly hard for him to sit still while she messed with his face and hair. It was especially difficult not to move as she currently held a tiny black brush near his eye.

Doing his best not to blink, he felt that weird sensation of the rough bristles against his eyelashes. The odd scent mixing with the other strange scents of the makeup Sam had been applying to his face.

It was odd. A part of him was dreading what was soon to happen. Apprehensive and fearful as he thought about how he would soon be walking out in public in his new look.

But another part of him...

Another part of him was getting more and more excited about the prospect. Curious about how he might look. Would he look good?

He wanted to look good.

And he hated himself for it.

A memory came unbidden. The first time he had been curious about girl clothing.

At the age of 5, he remembered his parents getting his sister a beautiful light blue dress for her 7th birthday. The fabric was soft to the touch, the sleeves pretty frills, and the skirt was puffy with a bow on the back. Jazz also had a matching headband that adorned a bow on the top and matching little shoes.

Their parents gushed at how adorable Jazz looked as she twirled and smiled, showing off. He had been so jealous of his sister and her pretty blue dress.

He wanted one too.

Not long after that day, he had snuck into his sister's room. Clumsily put on the dress along with the headband. Feeling every bit as pretty as his sister had been.

He remembered being so very excited as he bounced down the steps of the stairs. Smiling wide and eager to show his parents just how pretty he was.

But, he was not to be met with praise or encouraging coos like his sister.