Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom.


The bedroom was silent. Not a floorboard creaked, not a paper rustled. And it stayed silent, even as two translucent beings floated carelessly through the ceiling. They landed with a slight thud, and blinked into visibility.

Danny Phantom wasted no time. Without hesitating, and without letting go of his girlfriend, he strode forward and flopped boneless onto the bed. He turned on his side, wrapped himself around Sam like an overgrown leech, and buried his face in her neck.

And groaned.

Sam, who would normally object to being treated as a human teddy bear, didn't resist in the slightest; she was too tired to move, or care. They'd been intercepted on their way home from school by some faceless baddies, and the whole exchange had left them battered, scratched, and covered in ectoplasm. The duo had taken the ghosts down—eventually—and such ghosts were now having a serious time-out in a Fenton Thermos.

A Fenton Thermos that Sam still clutched in her hands. Her arms twitched to life, and with strength she didn't believe that she still had, she heaved the damn thing into some dark crevice of her bedroom. It landed with a satisfying clank.

Danny tightened his arms around her and mumbled into her neck, "Broke . . . it."

Sam snorted, "I don't care if I broke it."

Danny dragged his head up and rested his chin on her shoulder, "You will if they pop up. And attack your face."

Sam huffed out a breath and drew her knees up, "Whatever, I'll just use you as a shield."

Danny pressed a sloppy kiss onto her bare shoulder, "You wouldn't do that," a yawn, "you like my face too much." He sounded smug.

Sam yawned too, he was infectious, "Hmmmm, you give yourself too much credit, if I had to pick a face to be mauled by ghosts—yours or mine—it would definitely be yours."

Danny kissed the bottom of her jaw—he was slowly working his way up—and murmured into her skin, "I don't believe you."

Sam shivered as goosebumps traveled up her arm—which forced her realize that she was ice cold.

"Danny?"

"Mmmm . . . yeah?"

"Change back, you're freezing me."

Danny started slightly-he hadn't realized he was still a ghost, "Yeah—got it."

Sam sighed with relief as the room was bathed in glowing light, and as the body behind her suddenly became warm. Creaking with effort, she heaved herself around to face him. Looking up she saw his blue eyes staring back at her, and she gave a sleepy smile, "Hey, there."

He smiled lazily back, "Hi,"

A thought struck her suddenly, and she ran her eyes down his body. Bluntly, "We're getting ectoplasm all over my bed."

Pulling his hand up and tangled it in the hair at the nape of her neck, he ignoring her comment, instead pulling her in for a soft, sweet kiss. After a beat he leaned back, slightly dazed, grinning at her happily, "Don't care."

She rolled her eyes, and with great reluctance, and a dramatic sigh, she rolled off the bed, "Come on", she nearly groaned, "get up."

Danny glared, and made a show of snuggling into her sheets, "Never."

"We're injured."

"So?"

"We need to clean out our cuts."

"Says who?"

She growled, irritated, "Says our impending infections. Do you know what those are? Infections? They're bad. We don't want them."

With half lidded eyes, he studied her for a moment, considering her words, before shrugging out a ". . . answer's still no. "

Sam glowered darkly down at him, frustrated with his lack of a self preservation. She was already at the end of her rope, as exhausted and as cut up as she was. She didn't need him being difficult. So, inhibitions out the window, she let out an angry puff of air, and did the only thing she could think of to get his sorry ass out of her bed.

She reached down, peeled off her sticky tank top, held it out in front of her for him to clearly see, and dropped it on the ground. His eyes widened. She grinned.

She had his full attention, now. Going slow this time, she reached back, unclasped her bra, and with a feral glint in her eye, let it join her tank top. Just like she had expected, he was mesmerized, eyes firmly glued to her breasts, for the first time seriously considering getting out of bed.

It wasn't long before her shoes, tights, skirt, and underwear were on the ground as well .

By that time Danny had sat up out of reflex; he'd have to be a brick wall to not be affected by her strip tease. Itching to touch her, he stared with dark eyes at his girlfriend's bruised, scraped, gorgeous naked body. And sweat dropped-lazy resolution splitting at the seams.

Glowing with obvious victory, she beckoned him with her pointer finger, backing up slowly, "Come on Danny, " she whispered, eyes intent on his, "take a shower with me."

As if his chest were anchored to hers, he slowly began to rise, following her-quite dumbly-into her bathroom. Once inside, she crossed her arms. Eyes gloating. Smirking up at him.

He rolled his eyes, accepting defeat, removing his shirt, "shut up."


Aaand the rest is m-rated. ;) Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.