'Sup yo, second Danny Phantom fic, and Danny/Sam yet again . Like I said in the first one: please don't go easy on me. Constructive criticism is what makes me a better writer.

So now, please read, review and enjoy.

Sundays were worst days of all. Sam found herself lounging back on the couch in complete and utter boredom, not paying attention to the words as she lazily flipped through the pages of a book. The end of the weekend was always so uneventful that the goth girl could almost forget that her life was anything but usual. You know, with all of the ghost hunting and the best friend that could phase through walls and become invisible and all that.

With a groan she discarded the book onto the coffee table. Staring at the cracks in the ceiling was much more exciting anyway, she decided. As the minutes crept by, her eyelids slowly began to fall shut, growing heavier on every instant she tried to keep them open. She was about to give up and just go to sleep, when the sound of footsteps down the hall jerked her awake roughly.

The rhythmical clickety-clack of her mother's high heels had always been a foreboding of something terrible to come from Sam's point of view. Upon hearing the sound, the fifteen-year-old jumped up at the speed of light, ready to make a run for it, should the blonde woman come carrying yet another vomit-worthy pink frilly dress to stuff her daughter in. However, when her mother waltzed into the room with a sugar sweet smile on her face, Sam couldn't help but arch a brow and wonder. There wasn't a single gown or dress in sight.

"Mom?" Sam queried as Ms. Manson walked up. "What got you in such a cheery mood? Did dad buy you another walk-in closet for you walk-in closet or something?"

"Oh sweetie, don't be silly," The blonde diva giggled, ignoring her daughter's shudder of disgust upon being called 'sweet'. "I'm just happy that my little girl has her own secret admirer!" She then handed over a regular white envelope. When Sam turned it over, she noticed her own name written in perfect, curly handwriting. She sighed. Not this again.

In the past month or so, the violet-eyed girl had received five of these letters already. Every time they would arrive in a normal white envelope, and her full name would be written on the front in handwriting so neat and perfect that it could only have been done with utmost precision and dedication. Whoever was sending her these was trying his hardest to make the words on the paper look as pretty as possible, maybe in an effort to impress. And they were the kind of letters that she wanted to shun the most too. They were love letters, directed to her by 'her secret admirer', as her mother liked to call it.

Sam took the envelope and quickly thanked Ms. Manson, before speeding out of the room and making her way to her own quarters. She leapt onto her bed as she always did, and used her long, black fingernails to tear away at the paper to read her message.

Hello Sam,

I still don't know if you have any idea who I am right now, but I still want to give you this letter. I realize that I'm too much of a chicken to actually tell you how I feel about you, but that might change in the future. For now, all I can do is hope that there is someone in your life that makes you happy, even if I'm not that person. Maybe a day will come where I can show you who I really am, but until then I just hope that you will keep reading on these letters. The thought of you doing that makes my heart smile. I don't have a poem ready, or a long, detailed story of when I first saw you. All I have are my thoughts of you, and a little picture of you in my wallet. Secretly I hope that you know my name already, but I if you don't I can understand that. Just keep in mind though; I'm closer than you think.

- X

Sam read over the lines a good three times, but that still didn't take away her confusion. This person, whoever it was, claimed to be closer than she thought. Kinda creepy! However, she couldn't help but find it a bit flattering. While she was as goth as can be, and anything that was even moderately sweet churned her stomach, she still liked the attention she was getting. Because, in all honesty, what girl wouldn't? She didn't get as giggly and cheery as any normal girl her age would, but it still boosted her ego to a certain degree.

The teen brushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear and gave the letter another close inspection. She tried to decipher the handwriting, hoping to find out just who had been holding the pen. Whoever it was, an effort had certainly been made to have it look as appealing as possible, as if hours and hours had been spent to get those few lines onto the paper. All the curls and loops looked very impressive, and the way all the I's had been dotted with small purple hearts gave her the idea that this person really knew her well. Purple was her favorite color, besides black, of course.

The Manson girl quickly ran through all the boys she knew in her mind, and even a few girls she suspected of playing for the other team, trying to figure out of there was someone who could've sent her this. But with her reputation as the least popular girl in her entire school, she highly doubted that it had been some kind of jock or anyone else on any kind of sports team for that matter. Reading the line about a picture of her in his wallet, Sam's only logical conclusion was that it was someone that she saw and talked to every day, and the only people that fit that description were her two best friends.

Sam snatched the picture from her nightstand and wiped a dirty smudge off the glass frame. A smile curled her lips when she saw herself being embraced by the two boys she loved more than anything, Danny Fenton and Tucker Foley. Would one of them be able to write a letter this precise and so neatly written?

She could almost smack herself for asking a question like that. Of course they hadn't! Tucker was way too attached to his ladies' man persona and his not so secret attraction to Valerie. And when he wasn't trying to hit on everything with legs, he'd be nose deep in some technological gimmick. A better question to ask was if Tucker was actually capable of writing something without the aid of a keyboard.

And Danny... well... he was a special case. Although Sam didn't like admitting stuff to herself, she had to face the facts. If the blue-eyed boy were to be the one behind the love letters, she wouldn't be the one complaining. At all. The way he smiled had mesmerized her a long time ago already, and there was no denying that she liked him as more than just a friend. But she was almost certain that he didn't feel the same way. Still after what was likely a year or two, the ghost kid would stare at Paulina like a dog eyeing a big, juicy steak. Whatever it was he liked about that shallow snob so much, Sam wouldn't know. Sure, she was pretty, but looks weren't everything.

Come to think of it, there was something else that eliminated Danny as her secret admirer: his handwriting. The goth girl could fondly remember when she had glimpsed over his shoulder as he wrote what she assumed were simple notes. She had then spent about an hour on trying to decipher the jumbled mess that were supposed to represent letters and words. And for some reason she highly doubted that Danny would spend his time trying to improve his scribblings to near perfection. It just didn't fit his image.

"Well, guess I'll never find out..." Sam mumbled to herself as she tossed the letter onto her pillow, completely disregarding it when her phone buzzed on her desk. When she read the name displayed on the tiny screen, she wasn't surprised to see that it was the boy that had just been floating through her mind only seconds ago. Danny pretty much always dialed her number on a Sunday; he hated it as much as she did.

The teenager flipped her phone open, automatically picking up this way.

"Yo Danny," Sam greeted as soon as the connection had been established. "What's up?"

"Boredom, that's what's up," the halfa replied. The Manson girl could already envision him rolling his eyes. Those hypnotizing, stunning eyes. " You wanna come over and hang out for a bit? My mom and dad got a new TV, so I'm allowed to keep the old one in my room. That way we can watch movies without Jazz's constant pestering and my parents' dangerous inventions."

Alone with Danny in his room. Sam snickered at the thought of what his old folks would say. Maddie would probably fawn over ' teenage love', while Jack would be shouting from the sidelines like his son's biggest fan. And Jazz would probably reprimand them for 'causing psychological damage by embarrassing a teenage boy in front of his secret affection'. Oh, the irony.

"Yeah, sure," she answered. "Need me to bring a movie over? Just yesterday I bought one that promises to be total shriekfest."

"Cool, whatever," his voice resounded from the other end of the line. "As long as you come over I'll be just fine." It was a good thing that he wasn't in the room with her now, or he would've seen her cheeks glow a bright red.

"O-Okay," she couldn't prevent the small stutter and prayed to anyone that would listen that he hadn't noticed. "I'll go grab the DVD and then I'll be over in flash." Sam then snapped her phone shut, ending the call.

Her mind was all over the place as she took the DVD with her and mumbled a quick goodbye to her mother. She couldn't stand this, really! She couldn't even keep her face in check, even though Danny had only told her that he wanted to see her. It made her feel all... girly. And if there was one thing that Samantha Manson didn't like one bit, it was feeling all girly and giddy inside. She had a self-proclaimed dark heart, there was no place for sweet affection. She silently thanked whoever listened that she was still able to be around the halfa without her features being a fiery red permanently. At least, if he didn't chuck compliments about her all over the place.

The way to the Fenton household was one Sam had walked so many times that she barely even registered the route as she went anymore. It wasn't a surprise to her that she found herself on the doorstep so suddenly, like she had only blinked once or twice. The goth girl was about to press the doorbell when she found herself lifted off her feet and into the air, eliciting a soft shriek. This was met with an amused giggle behind her.

"Danny, what the hell are you doing?" she demanded as the duo levitated towards the boy's bedroom window. "You scared the crap outta me!"

"I was hoping I would," A soft shudder trailed its way down her spine when she heard the words whispered right by her ear. Danny's breath was cold, as it always was when he pulled his ghostly gimmicks. "You sound so funny when you're scared."

The feeling of becoming intangible was one that Sam would never ever get accustomed to. It felt so weird to both be there and be completely gone at the same time, that there were simply no words that could describe it. Luckily for her, they only had to move their way through about an inch of glass, before solidifying again inside of Danny's bedroom. Sam immediately turned to her personal poltergeist as soon as he was visible again.

"What did you do that for?" She grumbled as she bopped him on the arm. She rolled her eyes when he feigned a pained yelp.

"Because," Danny replied, rubbing the spot where Sam's fist had connected. "I don't feel like telling my parents that I'm upstairs alone. With a girl. I don't think I would be able to survive all the awkwardness."

"Fair enough," Sam had to admit. "Anyway, Let's pop this thing in and watch." She tossed the DVD she had brought in the halfa's direction, who nearly fumbled it before catching it about two inches above the floor. All the other teen could do was shake her head.

"What?" Danny exclaimed, trying to keep his cool. "That wasn't a clumsy move at all!"

"Yeah, right," the goth replied. "And Tucker hates computers and horror movies frighten me to death."

Danny snickered as he put the disc in the DVD player, before jumping onto his bed and inviting Sam to join him.

"Good thing that I'm here then," he teased, his blue eyes gleaming playfully. "I can hold you if you get frightened, so no meanie monsters can come to get you."

For the third time that day, Sam felt like praying to heavens as she felt a fierce blush racing towards her cheeks. She knew that Danny could be incredibly oblivious, but even the blind would've been able to see the crimson flush in her features. So, instead of mumbling an incohesive rebuttal, she took the spot next to her best friend and crush, leaning her head into the pillow and facing the big television screen.

The DVD menu rolled up, displaying the several options available, against a backdrop of a dark, moonlit forest and an orchestra of screams and screeches to act as background music filled the room. The black-haired boy reached for the remote and shot a glance over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised and a tiny smirk curling his lips.

"Promise me you won't get scared?" he chuckled. "Or do you need a pillow to shield your face?"

"Tell me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the boy that hid in a dumpster because he thought the neighbor's cat was a 'big scary ghost?" the goth girl replied, smirking. She was delighted to see Danny trying to hide his embarrassment.

"L-let's just watch, okay?" And thus the conversation ended and the movie began.

Sam had no idea that the movie would turn out to be so incredibly long. After at least two hours had passed, she yawned once, before checking her watch. Evening was closing in, and the darkness that Danny's shades provided gave her the feeling that it was way past midnight.

She rolled onto her side to see if said boy was actually still there, since he hadn't shown any sign of life for the past hour or so. The tendency to roll her eyes was impossible to act upon. The infamous halfa, ghost fighter and protector of the inhabitants of Amity Park was sleeping as sound as a little baby.

For a second or two, Sam weighed the option of slapping him across the cheeks a good few times, but by know she knew that if Danny was asleep there was no waking him up. Deciding that any attempt was pretty much futile, the teen pressed her head back further into the pillow, and instantly her eyelids grew heavier. Crazy as it may have sounded, the terrified shrieks that came from the TV doubled as the perfect lullaby. Just before her eyes fell shut and sleep took her over, Sam smiled as she found herself face to face with the boy that would probably haunt the dream to come.

When she woke up again time was an illusion; it could've been eight PM or two hours past midnight. Needless to say, she felt rested. With a loud yawn she stretched her arms above her head, before opening her eyes to the light of day. Or night, whatever it was.

Actually getting up, however, proved itself to be a much more difficult task. Not because the comforting embrace of a mattress below her back was holding her down, no, something was literally holding her down! It wasn't until then that she realized that it wasn't the soft and plush pillow on Danny's bed she felt below her cheeks. A quick glance upward caused her pupils to dilate.

Sam found herself staring up at the sleeping face of Danny, his features peaceful and carefree. Her head was snuggled up against his chest, and when she listened closely she could feel the soft, rhythmical pulse of his heartbeat. It was so soothing that her violet eyes almost fell shut again straight away. His surprisingly strong arm was draped around her back and kept her pinned in place. There they laid, like a married couple that had been together for years and years. If Danny's mother were to storm in they would never hear the end of it.

When the initial shock had subsided, Sam found herself to be very much content with the current predicament. Even though he didn't realize it, lying in Danny's arms was a scene that had appeared in her dreams more than once, and having it actually happen was so much better than the subconscious counterpart.

Just for a minute, the goth girl allowed herself to savor the moment. She smiled as she laid her cheek onto his toned chest, and let the pulsing of the boy's heart put her at ease. When she felt like a full sixty seconds had passed, she gently poked the other sleeping teenager in his side, earning herself a soft grumble. When she poked him again, this time more forcefully, Danny groggily opened his eyes and rubbed them with his one free hand.

Disoriented at first, the halfa glanced around the room, realizing that he had fallen asleep. He then looked down, only to see his life-long best friend with her head pressed against his chest. The shock on his face was pure gold.

"S-Sam?" Danny asked, obviously clueless about the situation. "What's going on here."

"We fell asleep," came the answer, accompanied by a final yawn to relieve the last bits of fatigue. "And I woke up like this, with your arm around me." Just saying that was enough for Danny to draw the limb in like it was on fire. An awkward silence hung in the air, and both teens had crimson on their cheeks as hot as molten lava.

Sam was eventually the one to break the ice. "Come here," she said, scooting over a little closer to her crush. "You look like a total mess after you've just woken up." She combed her slender fingers through his shaggy black hair, finding it to be as unruly and impossible to style as it always was. Why she acted so motherly all of a sudden, Sam wouldn't know, but at least it was better than silence.

"Hehe," Danny managed to mutter in between his stammering. "Probably because I've just woken up, huh?" The duo shared a nervous chuckle at the joke, relieving some of the palpable tension.

Sam quickly fixed his shirt, and felt something in its front pocket. "Really Danny, you shouldn't leave so much junk in your pockets." She didn't fail to see the little balled up piece of paper, but the sudden look of terror on Danny's face was something she did miss. Thinking nothing of it, the Manson girl unfumbled it and slid her hand across the surface to straighten it out a little. When her purple eyes read the content, her lower jaw dropped and she was left with a mouth open wide

Daily reminder: I love Samantha Manson.

"D-Danny?" She had seen this before, multiple times even. She saw her own name written with such grace and such finesse, all of the curls and loops done to perfection. And, most noteworthy, the little, purple hearts that dotted the I's. How Danny, the kid with the most horrific handwriting she had ever seen, had managed to put this down so neatly was beyond her; she was absolutely speechless.

"Sam, I…" the boy couldn't seem to find the words to explain the situation. The look on his face was a mixture of hope and desperation. "W-well, at least now you know…" He hung his head and closed his eyes, placing a hand to his temple in an attempt to comprehend everything that was happening so suddenly. Sam looked at him with sadness, caused by her best friend's shaken up state. While she had just made the discovery of the century, she had to do something about Danny first. While she wanted to jump and scream and even sing just a little in happiness, the apparently mutual romantic interest being the cause, she had other priorities now.

Slowly, she leaned over to the teenager with his eyes still closed. She felt hesitant, but luckily for her she had always been bold enough to make a move that surprised anyone. Ever so softly as to not startle him, she pressed her lips against his cheek, leaving a thin smudge of purple lipstick as she drew her head back.

Her heart was thumping in her chest when Danny opened his eyes in shock, trembling fingers pressing against the spot that she had just kissed him. His mouth was ajar for a bit, but then the corners curled into a half-smile that made Sam's insides turn to water in half a second. Her hand sought out his, and she rubbed small circles over the back of his hand with her thumb, a smile now also appearing on her features.

"Did you know?" Danny eventually asked, his blue orbs now expressing rest and contentment. "You know, that I was the one sending you those letters?"

"Not at all," Sam admitted. "I was hopeful that you were, but it didn't really add up in my mind. No offense, but your handwriting looks like a toddler got a hold of a magic marker and started drawing on the walls."

The halfa laughed heartily at the comment. "None taken. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get it to this level? The first letter I sent you must've taken me three days to write!" He draped a long arm around her small shoulders, and the goth girl buried her head in the crevice of his neck.

There they sat for a while, enjoying each other's presence and the simple silence that hung in the air. Danny smelled so sweet, Sam thought, like she would never get enough of his musky scent that made her feel at ease so much. His slow and steady breathing made her feel at peace, Zen. She could stay here forever if she had to.

"I really do appreciate the effort," Sam eventually said, prompting Danny to turn his head an look her in the eyes. "It makes me feel so special."

"You are going to kill me now, aren't you?" he joked laughingly. "If there's one thing Samantha Manson hates, it's feeling all special and girly.

"Oh, shut up you," Sam retorted with a smirk. She pressed another kiss to his cheek.

"And what if I don't?" Danny said teasingly, one eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

"Then I'll have to make you," She replied, pushing him back onto his mattress. She pressed her lips to his, and reveled in their honey-like taste. Ever so softly their lips brushed together, in a tender, loving, and sugar sweet first kiss. When Sam was eventually the one to draw her head back, they both smiled.

"You do realize that every time I say something stupid you're gonna have to do that now?" Danny reminded her. "Not that I mind…"

"Hmm…" Sam said. "I'll think about it, okay?" She then kissed him again, mentally rolling her eyes over something as cheesy as love letters bringing them together. Not that she complained, though, for it turned out that her life would turn around like this over something so simple; I's dotted with purple hearts.