Of Witches and Ghosts

Comparisons and Déjà vu

Pancakes?

Why could Sam smell pancakes?

There had been no fight recently and Hayley only ever made pancakes after a big fight.

"Pancakes are gorge food. We work until we drop, then we gorge on pancakes."

That had been her philosophy since they'd met, so why?

Sam slowly opened her eyes and an unfamiliar room met her sight. Of course, she was in Amity Park; which meant it wasn't Hayley downstairs in the kitchen cooking pancakes. Nor was it any of her other coven members. Suddenly, with a rush of horrid memories, her excitement in having pancakes plummeted to feeling downright sick at the thought of the damn things.

Sun was filtering through Sam's open window along with a soft breeze. She could have sworn she closed both the windows and her curtains last night. Sam rolled over to face the door. It was open just a crack but Sam knew she had definitely shut it last night before bed.

It was probably just Gramm. She thought to herself as she rolled out of bed and slipped her feet into a pair of black slippers.

Sam threw on a pretty silk black kimono robe over the tank top and panties she slept in. After tying her hair in a bun, she sauntered downstairs to find a most unexpected sight.

"What are you doing here?" Right there in her Grandmother's kitchen was Danny, the boy from yesterday who had helped with the bags. He was dressed in the same hoodie as yesterday, same sneakers too. He did have a blue shirt on though.

"Hey! I-..." As soon as he turned around, Danny's bright grin dropped with a light shade of pink growing a little on his face. His blue eyes widened at the sight of her in a robe.

He quickly cleared his throat. "I'm cooking pancakes, you want some?" He smiled at her briefly before flipping the pancake in the air and catching it in the pan.

"Do you live here or something?" Sam, eyeing him cautiously, slid onto one of the seats at the kitchen counter.

"Nope," was all he said. Sam tapped her fingers impatiently on the counter's black marble surface.

"So why are you here? Cooking pancakes? At seven in the morning? In my grandmother's house?" She gritted. Something about this situation aggravated her. Maybe it was his casual demeanor, like it was okay to be cooking in some else's kitchen.

"Because it's Saturday," he chirped. Or maybe it was because he thought that was a valid reason.

"Care to elaborate?"

Danny paused his cooking and looked at her.

"Um, hello? Saturday? C'mon, everyone knows Saturday morning means pancakes." Danny smiled at her again and went back to cooking.

Sam tapped her fingers against the countertop again. "So, why can't you have them at your house?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Let's just say my kitchen isn't as good as your grandma's. My folks don't exactly cook a lot. And when they do, it...doesn't turn out well."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "I see. So, how do you know my Gramm?"

Danny grinned as he stacked the flapjacks on a plate. "We met a few years ago," he explained as he brought them over to the counter and set them down. "There was an...incident, and she helped us out, so we repaid her by helping out around the house with chores. In the end, she took a liking to us, so now we help out with the chores, shopping, and stuff, and Grammy Manson lets us study here."

"Who exactly is us? And why can't you study at home?"

"Us would be my older sister, Jazz, my best friend Tucker and myself. And let's just say my parents are ghost hunters. The house is generally in chaos, and Tucker's place, well, there's too much techno-junk to move an inch without tripping over something," he continued with a childish smile. "Plus Grammy Manson makes awesome chocolate chip cookies; they just seem to make all your troubles vanish."