Author's Note: Huh. My first T-rated oneshot. I wonder how badly this could go...

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own DP, not even after all these years... Or Egyptian cotton, for that matter, now that I think about it... Even though I live in Egypt... Something is very wrong here!

Egyptian Cotton

Samantha Manson walked lazily up the steps to Casper High School, a lazy smile on her face and a small saunter in her walk. She felt good; almost too good on an early Wednesday morning when it was too hot to move and too crowded to think.

The hallways were bustling with the usual busy chatter of students and the opening and closing of lockers. Class started in fifteen minutes, but no one seemed so worried about moving and getting to class on time. Sam wove through clusters of other students until she reached her locker and started spinning the dial to obtain the books she would need for class.

"Boo!" a voice yelled right from beside her, but she just rolled her eyes, not at all phased. Closing her locker, she looked to her right, catching Danny with his mouth forming an 'o', his hands in the shape of outstretched claws in front of his face. Even though he looked like a class A idiot, she couldn't help but notice how his pitch black hair hung off his face right above his eyes, and how his blue eyes sparkled.

"Aw, come on!" he let out in exasperation. "That used to work on you all the time."

"Yeah," Sam started, raising her eyebrows and resting her back against the lockers, turning to face him, "that was before you started doing this every single day."
He rolled his eyes, but grinned playfully. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. It still works on Tucker though."

"What still works on Tucker?" said techno-geek asked, popping almost out of nowhere with a PDA in his hand like always.

"Never mind," Danny muttered. "Change of subject."

They looked at Sam expectantly. She was fiddling with one of the chains around her neck that she didn't notice right away, but once she heard their silence, she looked up self-consciously. Once she saw them staring at her, she said, "What?"

"Aren't you gonna complain about something?" Tucker asked.

"Not really," she shrugged, thinking back on her morning. She got up from bed at her own comfort as she had gone to bed earlier the previous evening and without the irritating alarm clock that is her parents since they were on a business trip. The room was warm, and she'd slept soundlessly thanks to her soft sheets.

"Really?" Danny asked as they both raised their eyebrows in surprise. "No complaints about your parents, or your alarm clock, or how bright the sun is shining or how loud the birds are chirping?"

Normally she would have been offended that they thought that that's what she does all day, but it didn't really matter to her that much. She just shrugged again and shook her head. "Nope."

Their eyes widened. "Either the band members of Pink Floyd have been resurrected from the dead and are having a welcome back concert in your bedroom," Tucker started, "or Samantha Manson, OUR Samantha Manson - deadly, ruthless and a queen when it comes to kicking my shins painfully with those damn combat boot of hers - is actually having a... GOOD MORNING."

Danny and Tucker gasped maniacally and dramatically, their eyes widening in shock and disbelief. "Who are you and what have you done with Sam Manson?" Danny demanded, a horrified look on his face.

Sam rolled her eyes, surprisingly amused with them rather than annoyed. "Oh shut up," she rolled her eyes. "I don't always have bad mornings."

"Let's review, shall we?" Tucker said, tapping on his PDA. Apparently having found what he was looking for, he continued, saying, "The best mornings you ever had were: September 22nd, two years ago, when your parents told you they were going away on a business trip for two months and that you have the house to yourself. May 3rd, one year ago, when, upon waking up, you received a call from an animal reserve in Atlanta informing you that they got your e-mail and would start treating animals with more decency. And even then your mood flipped later during the day because you realized the animal reserve you complained about was in Pennsylvania, not Atlanta."

When they looked back up at her with smug and expectant looks, all she could do was fold her arms across her chest, and say, "What's your point?"

"Point is," they started moving when the warning bell rang, heading together towards English, with Tucker excitedly continuing with his theory, "this is a rare occurrence and for it to have absolutely no reason is just plain impossible."

Okay, so maybe she was getting a bit offended. "I canhave good mornings, you know," she rolled her eyes. "Now would you just drop it? We have Lancer, and I doubt he'd ignore you if you tried researching this on your PDA."

Tucker, who had in fact been thinking of doing just that, frowned. "This isn't over, Manson," he told her when they took their corresponding seats in class.

And it wasn't. Throughout the day, all Tucker and Danny could do was pester her through first to fourth periods. They'd pass her notes, mouth to her from across the room if they had the same class, text her; basically do everything that they thought would infuriate her just to know why she had a good morning. Sam wanted to believe that it wasn't the first time she'd even had unexpected good mornings, but she had to admit, they had a point. Still, she could convince herself it was because for once, Danny was giving her his undivided attention all day, so that was why her morning was a good one.

She had to undergo the worst interrogation at lunch though. Since she didn't have Chemistry with them, they came to her prepared. They decided to sit outside since it was a fine day, with a light breeze in the air, the sun shining. And strangely, for the first time ever, Sam wasn't bothered by it. Not too much anyway.

"So," once they placed their trays down on the table, Danny got out a notebook from his backpack and set it on the table. "Tucker and I have come up with possible reasons for your 'good morning'."

Sam groaned, and she actually banged her head against the table. "Why?" she muttered, her voice muffled.

"You know why," Tucker scoffed, and as he and Danny surveyed the notebook, the interview began. "Okay," he continued, "could it be because you decided that living a Goth life is a waste of your teenage years and did a reevaluation of your life and decided to live a happy, colorful one?"

The only reason Sam looked up from the table was to give him a look.

"Had to try," Tucker shrugged, while Danny used a pen to scratch off that suggestion.

"Or," Danny started, "is it because you happened to meet a specific boy who turned your legs to Jell-O and made you change your perspective on life, particularly mornings?"

He got a real look for that one.

And on they continued, barely even touching their food. The questions kept coming, from "Did things go your way this morning?" to "Did you have a good breakfast?" to "Did you even get any sleep and the happy state you're in is from lack of sleep?" The only replies they'd get from Sam was a no or a kick in the shin or a sarcastic look.

Finally, though, they got warmer. After having crossed about twenty suggestions from the notebook, Danny said tiredly, "Did you sleep comfortably?"

"N–" She was about to deny it and hopefully put an end to this useless conversation so that she could finally eat, when she realized something: she actually didsleep comfortably, at least better than she had in a while. Then it hit her: her sheets.

"Actually," she looked back up at them with a grin. "I think that's it."

Instead of looking relieved or happy as she was, they just looked incredulous. "Seriously?" Tucker exclaimed, this time it was him giving her a look. "All of those suggestions and you think it's because you slept comfortably?"

"It makes sense," she shrugged. "It's my sheets."

"Let me guess," Tucker smirked knowingly. "It has the faces of hot guys all over it, doesn't it?"

All that suggestion yielded him was a kick in the shins, at which he yelled "Ow!" upon receiving, and a glare from Sam. "No," she said meaningfully, and resumed her point. "My parents just got me some new sheets made from authentic Egyptian cotton when they came back from Turkey."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't they get it from, oh, I don't know, Egypt?"

Sam refrained kicking him in the shin as well – after all, he did have an excuse to be stupid (even if that excuse was just that he looked cute at the moment). "Egypt doesn't necessarily need to be the main location to find Egyptian cotton, like Turkey isn't the place to buy the best turkeys, or China to sell the best china, or–"

"Alright, alright, we get it!" Tucker said, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "So it's your Egyptian cotton sheets."

She smiled smugly. "Yep."

All Danny and Tucker did was give her blank looks, before they both grabbed their trays and got up. "You owe me an entire morning of my life, Manson," Tucker muttered as they got up to leave.

Sam just laughed at their ridiculous behavior, which only infuriated them even more.

That night after school, Sam was sitting on her bed, her infamous sheets wrapped around her as she tried focusing on her Algebra homework. The air wafted in her bedroom, smelling of the delicious cherry cake her grandmother had baked for dessert earlier that evening.

She yawned, not really able to concentrate on the numbers in front of her. Sam used to like Math – but that was before the alphabet was introduced into it. She pushed the books away from her and snuggled into her sheets, letting them engulf her and surround her with their softness. She hadn't been lying when she said it was probably the sheets that initiated her good morning – they were so soft and comfy, it was almost impossible for her to not have a good morning.

Resting her head on her pillow, she yawned again. I should definitely ask my parents to get me more of these sheets, she thought, her eyes fluttering closed. She knew she should probably continue her homework, but her bed was too inviting, too comfortable.

She was awoken mere minutes later by a tap on her window. Her eyes snapped open and she hastily sat up, rubbing at her eyes. Without waiting for her to grant him permission, Danny stuck his head into her room – while the other half of him remained in the air. Outside her closed window.

He was in Phantom form, his white hair flopping as he caught her mid-stretch, his emerald green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he greeted, phasing into her room and turning back into Fenton.

"Hey," she sighed, trying to wake herself up. She was too sleepy and wanted to get back to her sheets.

"So," he said, eyeing the sheets on her bed warily as if they might jump up at him and bite him, "these are the famous Egyptian cotton sheets?"

"Yep," she grinned lazily, stroking the sheets with her fingers. "They even lookcomfortable, don't you think?"

He didn't say anything for a while, just stared at her and her sheets, his eyes not really focusing on either. When it took him a while and he still hadn't uttered a word, she frowned, and asked him, "What?"

He shook his head, either as if shaking a bad thought from his mind or telling her to drop it. Either way, she continued. "Is anything wrong? Do you want to talk about–"

"Can I try them?" he interrupted, looking like it took him a lot of courage to say just those words.

"What, the sheets?" Sam asked, indicating towards the light violet fabric with her hands. "Yeah, sure. Here, it's the best when you wrap it around yourself."
When she held up the sheets for him, he just shook his head and started walking closer to where she was sitting on the bed. "No, I meant," he got onto her bed until he was right in front of her. She could almost feel his breath on her cheeks, see the intensity of the burn in his azure eyes, and feel how hard his heart was beating through his chest at the close proximity. "Can I try them?"

She finally understood what he meant then, but it had nothing to do with the hunger in his eyes or the way he said it; it was because his lips were suddenly on hers.

He was kissing her.

Danny was kissing her.

And after freezing in initial shock, she started kissing him back.

At first, the kiss was nice, soft, and gentle. She couldn't help but think of how right his lips felt against hers, the way they moved against each other, the tenderness. It was even better than their fakeout makeouts – because this time, there was true emotion behind it, not just some form of distraction.

He deepened the kiss, running his tongue over hers, hungry, inviting. She opened her mouth to him, and their tongues engulfed each other, fighting for dominance. She tasted him in her mouth, and he tasted even better than the cherry cake she'd had for desert.

Their lips moved against each other, letting go for air then finding each other again. Her hand snaked to his neck, moving against his hair, her other hand running across the length of his arm, feeling his newly acquired muscles, thanks to ghost fighting. His hands were on her waist, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt and scaling up the length of her spine, tracing her flesh, every bump. He leaned against her, causing her to sag backwards, her head falling on her pillow. She barely heard her Math books fall on the ground. All she could feel was his lips, his hands all over her.

She wanted to touch him everywhere, so she tugged on his shirt, and with his help, pulled it off. She explored him with her hands, his arms, his back, his chest, and felt his heart beating to a fast rhythm in time with hers. In one second, she felt a flash of cold, and then her shirt was off as well. She was glad she decided to go with her lace black bra that day, is all she could think of at this.

His mouth left hers and trailed along her jaw to her neck, moving down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made her insides contract. She breathed heavily, his lips trailing across her chest, down her stomach until he reached her navel. His tongue ran up the same trail he'd just moved, up her stomach to her neck to her jaw, landing slack again on her lips and capturing her in yet another kiss.

She leaned up against him, pushing him with her mouth until she managed to push him down on the bed, landing on top of him and rubbing up against him. She took his face into her hands and attacked him with her lips, her mouth on him and her hips moving rhythmically to his. She used the opportunity of being on top of him to do some exploration of her own, trailing her lips over his chest and down his stomach as well. He moaned, and then his hands were in her hair, tugging at it and pulling her face up to his so he could kiss her, his hand moving everywhere on her, touching her everywhere as she did the same with her hands.

All she could feel, smell, touch, taste, was Danny. He was everywhere, all around her, and she was lost, lost in his kiss, his touch, his caress. He engulfed her like fire, his flames ensnaring her in their trap, licking their way all across her body until they consumed her. The world ceased to exist, and it narrowed down to the two of them, in her bedroom, on her bed. Their bodies intertwined like they were born that way, caught in each other's cocoon. She loved him, loved Danny so much–

She heard a loud tap at her window and instantly her eyes flew open. She was panting heavily, and in shock, looked around her everywhere with wide eyes, her heart pounding violently in her chest. Her room was as it was – her math books were still on her bed, her bedroom door was still closed, her closet halfway open, her curtains pulled back from her closed window, where the tapping sound was coming from.

It was just a dream, she realized, confused, but gradually coming back to her senses. She was disappointed, wishing it had been real.

Turning her focus back to the window, she saw Danny, an easy grin on his face as he phased into the room. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he said amusedly as he changed back. Her heart caught in her throat; was the dream somehow going to actually happen?

All she could squeeze out of her windpipe was a small "Hey", which sounded too high-pitched even for her own ears. She was still breathing heavily and her heart was still beating as if the dream had been real.

Just like in the dream, he glanced at the sheets, now wrapped haphazardly around her and the bed. "So, these are the famous Egyptian cotton sheets."

She could swear that he looked just like he had moments ago, right before he came onto her and was kissing the hell out of her. She was still taken aback, so she just nodded, not trusting her voice.

She blanched, however, and almost chocked on her own disbelief when he asked, "Can I try them?"

"W-What?" she stuttered, trying to calm herself down. This is happening, she thought, her heart hammering. This is really happening.

"Can I try them?" he repeated, oblivious to her anticipation and terror. "The sheets?"

Her mouth opened, and all she could manage, once again, was a nod. Her breath caught in her throat when he grinned and walked closer to her. When he was close enough to the bed, she almost closed her eyes.

It was a good thing she didn't, though, because next thing she knew, he had jumped on the sheets with his back, landing with a good thud and sending her flying up in the air to land back on the bed. The poor math books again had the fate of falling to the floor, but this time, it was for different reasons.

Danny jiggled a bit on the bed, finding a comfortable position, until he sagged against the bed, a relaxed expression on his face. "Oh, man," he moaned, which made Sam flinch. Too similar, she shook her head, but not without giving him a small smile. "This is amazing. Now I see why you had a good morning. I bet you have the greatest dreams sleeping on these."

Oh Danny, she thought with a small smile as he wrapped the sheets around him, inhaling them and grinning, you have no idea.

A/N: Well... How badly DID it go? Tell me!

Review! x