Note, this is a different deathday headcannon than I used in Grandfather Clocks.

Also: I'm done! I did it! And Dannymay, too! My writing brain cells are fried. :D

I do want to apologize to everyone who reviewed! I usually try to give some response, but well. See above. I really do love getting your reviews. They're fun to read, so thank you, very, very much. Super special thanks to MrsFrizzle, Anne Camp, Purest of the Hearts, 17, and .106 for sending me so many.

If anyone would like to use one of the ideas in here for a longer fic, feel free! Just tell me so I can read it.

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Free Day

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It was traditional, among the Dead, to give gifts to people on their Deathday, if one knew when that was. The tradition had percolated through the ghostly community, and most ghosts, even if they were Neverborn or Deathless, were aware of it, and practiced it. Now, it wasn't common for one of the Dead to tell their Deathday, it was a personal, and traumatic, thing. Hence the gifts, a way to sweeten something bitter, overwrite the bad with something good.

Danny wasn't expecting any gifts on his Deathday. For one thing, he wasn't entirely sure that he even qualified as a ghost, let alone Dead. For another, he didn't exactly run around telling random ghosts the date of his untimely maybe-demise.

He might have gotten gifts from Jazz, Sam, or Tucker, if he had told them about the tradition. Which he hadn't. He'd felt like telling them about a tradition where they would be obligated to give him gifts would be tacky.

Clockwork showing up with a little box had been unexpected.

Danny blinked at the time ghost through the blue-gray tint of stopped time. He blushed.

He had decided to ride out the unpleasant date by staying in bed all day. It was August, so his parents hadn't really questioned him when he said he had caught a cold, and wanted to rest. That wasn't the embarrassing part. The embarrassing part was that he had turned his bed into a nest of blankets and pillows, and had wrapped himself very securely. So securely that he wasn't sure if he could get himself out in a hurry without phasing through the sheets.

"Hi," he said, trying and failing not to sound strangled.

"Hello, Daniel," said Clockwork, smoothly changing from his elder form to his somewhat less threatening child form. He offered up the box. "For your Deathday."

Danny struggled with the sheets for a second, then decided to swallow his pride and phase out. Once on top of the sheets, he straightened his (frayed and ratty) pajamas, and took the box.

"Thank you," he said. He was sure his face was bright red, but Clockwork, thankfully didn't comment.

He opened the box. Inside was a small glass sphere, about as long across as a fingernail, filled with sparkling, swirling, black sand. It was attached to a loop of black ribbon that looked just long enough to go over Danny's head.

"What is it?" he asked, holding the sphere between his thumb and forefinger.

"A free day," said Clockwork. "Twenty-four hours of stopped time," he elaborated when Danny gave him a confused look. He leaned forward and put a hand on Danny's shoulder. "When you want it, break the glass. You need not use it wisely."

Then Clockwork was gone. Danny looked down at the sphere. The sand had stopped moving. Okay. That was cool. A free day. That was...

Danny blinked and groaned. "Okay, okay, I get it. The gift of time. You're as bad as I am." He was smiling, though, as he looped the ribbon over his neck.

It was a good gift.