A/N: Just a little something I came up with…it wasn't supposed to end up the way it did, but then, most of my fics are like that. This was meant to be a oneshot, but I think it'll end up as a two or three-shot…

Oh, and also, after the line break (not this one but the second one), it switches to Danny's POV. I just didn't label it because I didn't want to interrupt the flow of the story. After the third line break it's Tuck's POV. I won't necessarily do all three POVs for each chapter though. Just because this one's the beginning, so it was necessary…

Anyways, I'm really proud of this- I hope you guys will like it :D

'He was, in a few words, everything you could ever hope to have in a friend. He was trustworthy and kind, loyal and caring. He listened to others' hopes and dreams, never once interrupting or redirecting the conversation to himself.

But among all his wonderful qualities, there was one fatal flaw to the boy's perfection.

He was dangerous. Mortally dangerous. Simply being in his vicinity could put you at fatal risk. And yet, his beauty remained unfazed by his curse…'

The words on the page before me strung on into new sentences, all as absurd as he ones I'd just read. In utter frustration, I slammed the book shut and threw it at the wall across from me. The navy hardcover thumped against the hotel wall, creating a resounding thud in the room before falling to the ground.

Crossing my arms, I huffed in an aggravated tone, "Ugh! I'm so sick of books like this! Why do all modern novels have to be so…so-,"

"Reedeculous?" my foreign friend offered.

I gave a small sigh of frustration to confirm my friend's response before letting out a short, seemingly misplaced laugh. Receiving a confused look from the girl sitting at my desk, I elaborated on my laughter. "I just think it's funny that you know me so well."

Her inquisitive expression disappeared as she gave a small grin at my reply. "Yes, ve 'ave been spending too much time togezer, Samantha," she said jokingly, her heavy French accent tainting her words.

I guess I should probably explain what's going on here. Two weeks ago, my parents sprang on me that we were going to spend the summer in France, meeting up with my dad's business partners as well as some of my cousins. Yup, throw some family visits into the equation and I'll be absolutely sidetracked by the fact that this is nothing but another business opportunity for my father. Note the sarcasm.

Anyways, I think it goes without saying that I was less-than-thrilled to be leaving my hometown and my friends for a summer with stuck-up business partners who thought they were the best thing to walk this earth. And visiting my high-end, glamour-obsessed cousins? Well, let's just say that wasn't too high on my priorities list either.

It turns out however, that Monsieur Joie, my dad's main business associate in France, had a daughter of my age, and luckily for me, of my mentality. Sure she accessorized like she was going to a fashion show on a daily basis, but hey, at least she had good taste and wasn't a stuck-up snob like the rest of her family- or like mine, for that matter.

I'd managed to befriend her and we'd spent much of the last few weeks together while our parents attended French country-club soirées and whatnot. Despite the difficulty of understanding Marie's accent, I enjoyed talking to her and we were both on the same page when it came to subjects like books and movies.

"Yeu know," Marie said, snapping me out of my reverie, "I don't like zose types of books eezer. Ze main character eez too perfect. It eez not realistic enough for me."

"You got that right," I replied as Marie returned to the laptop placed on my desk and continued typing the email she'd been working on. I averted my gaze from her long fingers that were tapping away at the keyboard, concentrating instead on the stars outside my window. From the bed on which I was sitting, it was easy to see the constellations in the sky that night. As I watched the tiny specks of silver twinkle, my thoughts drifted far from Paris' nightlights.

It was funny, but every time I saw, or even just thought of stars, I my thoughts would immediately flow to Danny. I guess that because he wanted to be an astronaut so badly, I just always associated him with the night sky.

Though lately, I'd taken to associating him to the night sky for other reasons. Mainly that he himself reminded me of a star when he flew at night. Sometimes I would watch him from my bedroom, as he'd glide through the skies, thinking that no one could see him. It was beautiful though, the way his silver hair and black suit blended in so perfectly with the nightly atmosphere of peaceful Amity. I gave a happy sigh as I imagined him soaring through the town, his hair blowing in the wind…

"Yeu are daydreaming again."

I was abruptly shaken out of my short-lived reverie by Marie's voice. I barely had the time to respond before she continued, "It iz about ze boy, Danny, yes?" There was a glint in her eye, as if she knew something I didn't.

I instantly blushed, my cheeks getting hotter. "What are you talking about, Marie?" I said, trying to sound as off-handed as possible.

"Samantha," she said, her tone becoming much more factual, "Yeu 'ave told me of yeur friends, Tucker and Danny."

"Yeah, but I never said anything about-," I interrupted her, trying to defend myself. It was a futile attempt however, as she continued.

"Yeu do not need to tell me, chérie. I can see in ze way yeu speak of 'eem. You love, Danny, no? Why zen do yeu not pursue ze boy?"

I stared at Marie, dumfounded. For a moment, I considered denying my feelings and rejecting her well-founded theory, but the look on the French girl's face told me that it would be a vain attempt. With a small sigh, I stammered feebly, "I…I dunno. I mean, what if he doesn't like me back? I don't want to risk our friendship."

"Yeu must not seenk zees way, Samantha," Marie reprimanded lightly, pronouncing my name in pure French as I realized she was the only person that I didn't get mad at for calling me by my full name. "And anyvays, 'e sends yeu packages and letters every day; it eez clear zat he loves you."

I waved my hand. "Those? Nah, those are nothing. Just a few friendly letters, that's all."

She had a point though; Danny had taken to sending me packages over the last few days of my stay in France. Yesterday he sent me my favourite vegan chocolate from Amity (they didn't have it in France) and I'd already received two letters from him in the past week. Sure, it may not seem like a lot, but it meant the world to me. In all truth and honesty, besides Marie's company, Danny's packages and letters were the only things keeping me sane during this trip.

Ever since the first box I'd received last week, I'd made a habit of waking up early and calling the reception to ask if anything in my name had been delivered to the front desk. Rarely disappointed by the answer, I'd run down the stairs, satin pyjamas and all, and pick up my mail before going back up to my room, where I'd open it slowly, savouring the moment of suspense. What was going to be in the package? What news did Danny write to me about? It had become somewhat of a loved tradition of mine.

"Eef yeu ask me, it eez very romantique. 'Ee could 'ave just sent yeu an email, but 'e took time to pen a letter for yeu. Eet is very sweet…Almost like Shakespeare, writing to 'eez beloved, no?"

I blushed. "Why don't you go back to your IM conversation with Luc?" I prodded, emphasizing the name of the boy with a fake French accent in hopes to get back at Marie for embarrassing me.

With a laugh, she twirled around on the computer desk chair. "Ah, Samantha, yeu cannot embarrass me just by saying zee name of zee one I love- ve are not all sensitive az yeu!" she said with a wink. I gave her a playful punch on the shoulder as she turned back to her conversation.

Once I was sure that all her attention was focused on the screen, I let my mind wander again. She had a point, didn't she? Why would he send me all this stuff if he didn't care for me? Then again, to care for one and to love one never were precise synonyms.

With a sigh, I got off the bed and paced over to the window. Crossing my arms on the sill, I looked out before me, Paris' twinkling nightlife illuminating the view. Nothing but the sound of distant typing could be heard as I looked out into the sky, whispering, "I miss you."

"Next, please!" the voice at the counter called.

I sat in the uncomfortable chair, my fingers fumbling with the package on my lap. I'd been waiting at the Post Office for almost half an hour, and thanks to their new take-a-number system, I was stuck in my seat until the lady called me to the counter.

I held onto the package in my hands, trying to imagine what Sam would think when she opened it- I'd bought her the new System SuperHero CD as an early birthday gift and decided to send it to her so she'd have some decent music to listen to while overseas.

Jazz'd been nagging me about my obsession of sending Sam mail for the past week or so, saying it was a way of repressing my grief for her departure this summer. Supposedly I was overindulging in materialistic items for the goth in order to feel as though she was still here in Amity. Tucker just thought it was me being a lovesick idiot, and I have to say, I was kind of on his side for this one. Of course, I'd never let him know that.

It's just that, ever since Sam had gone, I felt as though a part of me had disappeared. Cliché, I know. Still, that didn't change the fact of the matter…

I ran my hand through my hair, still waiting impatiently for the lady to call me. Shifting around to get comfortable in my chair, I slung my backpack off my shoulder and set it on my lap. Of course, being summer, my backpack wasn't filled to the brim with unfinished schoolwork, but rather with ghost-hunting weapons like the portable Fenton Peeler and the Fenton Thermos. There was one other thing in the bag though…

A letter.

Not just any letter, though. It was a letter I had written to Sam last week. Usually I'd write her about what was going on in Amity and update her on the ghost hunting that me and Tucker were doing. But this note was different… I'd written it in Tuesday night after battling Skulker and Ember. Once I'd managed to suck them in to the Thermos, I realized something. How was it that everyone, even ghosts, were getting together with people they loved, and I was the only one too afraid to ask the girl of my dreams on a date?

Impulsively, I'd flown home and started writing. I wrote about how much I cared for Sam, about how important she was to me. I wrote that I'd liked her for years and years, but I'd been too much of a dork to realize it. And when I finally did realize it, I was too afraid to pursue her. I was afraid for our friendship, for our future together, but mostly for her safety. If we were to go out, that would only make her more of a target for ghosts who were hunting me. I wasn't about to let her get hurt because of me.

I'd sealed the letter and placed it over the package I was going to send her the following day, but when it came time to go to the Post Office, I found myself unable to bring my confession of love along.

I began doubting myself. What if she didn't answer? That would make any contact between us for the rest of the summer incredibly awkward. Worse still, what if she didn't like me back? Sure Tucker had told me several times that the feeling between Sam and I was reciprocal, but then, what if he'd made a mistake. Maybe she didn't really like me in that way…

And so, the letter remained in my backpack. Every time I came to the Post Office, I'd pulled it out of the smallest pocket of my bag and read it over, all the while trying to decide what to do with it.

Today was no different; I pulled out the letter and scanned the contents, my mind racing from indecision. Should I send it? It was worth a shot, right?

No, I thought firmly. Nothing was worth ruining my friendship with Sam. Not even this…

Before folding it and putting it away, I slowly brought my eyes to the last sentence on the page.

I love you Sam,


"Nice letter." I heard someone grin cheekily from behind me. "Never knew you were such a poet."

Surprised, I spun around to see Tucker sitting on the chair behind me, reading over my shoulder.

"Tuck!" I exclaimed indignantly, quickly stuffing the letter into my bag. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Long enough," he winked, confirming my suspicions that he'd read enough of the letter to know its contents. He jumped over the chair next to me and landed into the cushiony seat. "So, you finally gonna tell Sam, huh? I'm proud of you, dude. It's been what, three years now? It's about time."

I gave a nervous chuckle. "What are you talking about, Tuck? There's nothing going on between Sam and I."

"Yet," he smirked. "But I'm guessing once she reads your note-,"

I interrupted my red-bereted friend in annoyance, "What are you even doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Um, meeting you. Remember, we said we'd meet here before going to see Pirate Monster 3?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry, dude," I said, genuinely apologetic for having been abrasive towards my friend. "I forgot about that."

"No problem dude," Tucker responded lightly, waving his hand. "I understand. You were busy with your letter."

"Tucker," I growled in annoyance. "Will you let it go? I told you, it was nothing."

The techno-geek simply shrugged before pointing up at a large monitor on the wall. "Hey, I think that's your number, right?"

Glancing up at the digital screen, I saw that Tucker was right. As I made to get up, I heard a piercing scream coming from outside, followed by shouts of "I am the box ghost! Fear me!"

Oh crud…

I glanced at Tucker, who gave me a knowing look. "I've got you covered, dude. Do your thing."

"Thanks," I smiled. "Hey, can you mail my package for me if I don't get back in time?

With a sign of agreement from Tucker, I ran off to the nearest hideout so I could transform, never once suspecting what I'd gotten into by trusting my techno-geek friend.

I stared at the package Danny had left on his seat, along with his purple backpack.

"Number 47 please!" the lady at the counter called. Ever since the mayor had installed ghost shield equivalent programs into the public buildings of Amity, no one inside them needed to worry about being attacked. I got up, carrying Danny's parcel and slinging his backpack over my shoulder.

Arriving at the counter, the brunette asked me, "How can I help you?"

Whoa, she was cute. Flowing hair and brilliant green eyes. Instantly, I turned the Tucker-Charm on. Flashing her a beaming smile, I leaned my forearm against the counter and winked. "You could help me get a date for the Summer Festival Dance this weekend."

She replied with an odd expression. It looked like she had just eaten a sour lemon or something. I knew that expression; it was generally followed with a 'no'. With a dejected sigh, I slid the box in my hands across the counter.

"Fine. Can you just mail this for me?"

She took the box and read the address. Immediately, she turned to her computer and started typing something. As I placed Danny's heavy backpack on the counter (it was getting a bit heavy to carry), I noticed one of the zippers was open. I made to close it, but stopped in my tracks when I saw Danny's letter sticking out of it.

A thought came to me as a grin spread on my face. Impulsively, I pulled the letter out of the pocket. "Excuse me, miss?"

The girl turned around to face me- her expression apprehensive. She probably thought I was gonna hit on her again. Ignoring this, I asked, "Do you think you could mail this to the same address?

A look of relief spread over her face. With a nod, she took the letter from my hands.

Hey, I may not be able to get a girl, but it doesn't mean Danny shouldn't be able to either, I thought in satisfaction as I paid the fee.

Man, was I a good friend or what?

Please leave me a review if you liked it :D