Author's Note: Uwaehh! I caught one-shot fever. I cannot stop! I have roughly two or three other ideas that are nagging at my brain… And I'm in serious Writer's Block with Eternal. And I have just now started chapter 4 of Never Good Enough! Inspiration struck me one morning during our first really cold school day, and this sprung up. And, yes, it's my first fully devoted fluff… because people tend to want it in NGE but there just can't be too much there! And I need practice…
Disclaimer: This is what you get when you're cold and someone who looks too much like Danny is right in front of you. People who aren't me copyright Danny Phantom's characters and events. The only thing I own is the plot.
It was half past midnight. She was pretty sure the moon was high in the night sky but she couldn't tell tonight. The curtains of her tall windows were shut tightly to hide most of the specific features of her bedroom. Sam was digging in a drawer beneath her desk frantically, when she finally found the small cardboard box. She took one of the matches from within out and struck it against the side until sparks flew and a flame erupted.
The scent of cinnamon burned within her nostrils, tantalizingly sweet and harsh all at once. With her eyes closed to fully take in the sense, she blew the small flame from the match and set the stick of incense in its holder. Slowly opening her eyelids, she removed another rod on the light brown fuel and struck another flame. This one she carried to the other end of the room, near her lamp. She set it down on the table and pulled the chain on the Chinese styled light, plunging her room into a shadow. The burning tip illuminated a small speck in the darkness of her room.
Sam didn't know why, but this particular fragrance always contented her, despite its grittiness. It was a confusing sensation, not knowing whether it was too hot or simply too strong. She fought back a sneeze and carefully found her way to her large four-poster in the darkness.
The large comforter lay folded at the foot of her bed. Her silky pillows and sheets provided no warmth. Outside, the mid-November air was knocking at the window, leaving traces of frost along the edges. She sat crossed legged in the center of her bed, dressed only in short black bottoms with gray and purple skulls and a small black and gray tank-top, barely covering her upper half. The heater had been turned off, and it was making its impression. The darkness, the brisk cold, and the incense flooded her very being.
When had she begun to do this same routine, every night, before going to sleep? When she'd begun it hadn't been nearly as cold. Lately, though, she wouldn't bother to cover herself with the heavy blankets. She had many different sorts of incense, but for reasons just barely known to her, all the rare pieces were being neglected in favor of what filled her room now.
Sam reached up over her head with eyes still closed serenely and took down the small ponytail. She fiddled with the green hair tie for a brief moment before flinging it away. The random tresses of dark hair fell back down, giving her already thick hair more body.
The chill temperature prickled over her skin. It was uncomfortable; her body was practically screaming at her to protect herself from the sixty-degree air. However, tranquility overcame her whenever she was cold like this. Just the thoughts it brought to her mind made her warmer, and she very much liked this feeling.
By the gods, Sam Manson, you'll end up catching pneumonia inside your own house like this, she thought to herself. She smiled slightly at her own chastisement. It was very likely that she would get sick. Did she care?
Well, of course not. Who cared if she was confined to bed for a day? Despite how much she hated catching colds, she liked her late night habit very much.
Because even though she felt like she was encased in a block of ice, she felt completely warm. Despite the fact that she was very alone and it was a very quiet night, she could imagine herself right outside of the window, the soft breezes mingled with icy breath caressing her cheeks…
The terrible numb feeling reminded her of the best moments of her life. It sounded strange, even to her very own mind.
In fact, just thinking about it like she was now was even stranger.
Her eyes shut tighter and her teeth ground together. A strong shiver ran through her whole body. The sheets felt like pools of arctic water against her legs. Though her eyes were closed and the lights were out, she could picture her pale complexion close to that of porcelain at this point.
It began at her shoulders. They hunched forward, her fingers danced with the craving to rub friction into her skin. By her will she kept them at her side. Next her stomach tightened to conserve heat, and her legs became oddly numb.
It was as though the entire room had dropped several degrees in one instant, but she knew it was just her body's reaction. Sam's mind still found it to be pleasantly ethereal.
She forced her arms to relax, extended them out and fell back onto the pillows. She inhaled deeply and the aromas themselves were like fire. Everything around her reminded her of it….
Everything around her gave her a sense of belonging.
The scenes began to flash through her mind like they always would. Some of them were memories, some fantasies, and others she couldn't distinguish between. That total sense of security and protection. It was so alien she could hardly believe she ever really felt it in the real world…
Her grip on his shoulders tightened and she gasped, feeling a sudden drop in the temperature as they rose higher into the midnight atmosphere
"What is it?" he asked. Green eyes were radiant as the stars above their heads.
"It just got really fricking cold," Sam answered, burrowing her cheeks under his arm to warm it.
He chuckled, the sound echoed off of the sky. "I guess I'm just used to it," he said. "Being a ghost and all, I guess I'm not as bothered."
"That's because ghosts are cold, anyway" she replied.
"Then why are you clinging to me if I'm not going to make you any warmer?" he asked.
Sam shrugged as he perched on top of a tall building, where the winds were blowing her hair in all sorts of directions, exposing her sensitive ears to its bitter bite. "I don't know. It's working though."
"Weird. You're usually the warm one out of us." He pulled her by the arm down and sat close to her, wrapping her arms around hers. She immediately began to feel the sharpness of the air ebb away. "But if it works, I'll keep you warm."
Because he was behind her, he hadn't seen the rush of blood to her cheeks, bringing a distinct color to her skin. "Thanks," she whispered, relaxing her body and succumbing to the bizarre comfort his arms gave her.
Her shivering finally lessened to just a slight shaking, and she turned on her side to face her closed window. Not like she could really see it, the darkness blanketing everything. She hummed softly, relaying the effects of the ghostly presence the prickling knives had on her. No matter how hard she tried, Sam couldn't shake it out of her mind. Given that she had stopped making much effort as of the present, not much was to be said.
The fact that he was so cold and yet filled her with such heat that it didn't matter was one thing that attracted him to her.
Sam sighed lightly and curled into a ball, her nearly bare legs pressing against her chest. She closed her eyes and let herself begin to slumber.
Then, quite suddenly, she was warm.
It took her a few moments for her fatigued mind to realize that the cold had decreased significantly. She stirred, realizing that her comforter had been pulled over her hunched form.
Her eyes popped open but all she could see was thick blackness. She kicked the covers away and sat up straight, eyes scanning the area for a visible trace. "Danny?"
"Are you officially nuts?" replied his voice, the echo effect that was characteristic of ghosts gracing it. A brilliant flash of light appeared, burning Sam's unadjusted eyes, and for a brief moment he appeared, transferring from Phantom to Fenton form. Once the rings disappeared, Sam could hear Danny's chattering teeth. "It's nearly ice in here and you're laying in the middle of the room shivering in pajamas. Any reason?"
Sam blushed slightly and pulled the covers over her, despite the fact that Danny couldn't see. Hold on, she thought. "How'd you even see me? I can't see a thing in this room."
Apparently Danny held up a finger because a small green flame appeared in midair.
"Oh."
The bed creaked and she felt Danny's presence nearer to her now. Cinnamon engulfed her senses again. "I thought you hated being cold," he said quietly to not wake her parents in the next room. "Well, you hate being hot, too, but…" She felt a warm human hand on the skin of her forearm. "You feel like death."
"What are you doing here so late anyway?" she interrupted before her thoughts could surface themselves.
A five second pause prefaced a hasty reply. "Can I flip a light on or something, I can't see."
Sam shook her head, but then realizing he needed a verbal answer said, "Nope. You're going to suffer in cold, dark, silent torture until you tell me what you're doing in my bedroom in the first place."
"That punishment is so typically Sam," Danny muttered to himself, though she caught every word. She reached out to punch his arm but came in contact with something hard. "Ouch!" he hissed.
"Sorry! I wasn't aiming for your head."
"Now can we turn on a light?" Danny growled grudgingly.
Sam bit her lip and considered. Her senses were still rattled by his sudden appearance in the middle of her daydreams. "No."
"How come?"
"Because…. I'm wearing hardly anything and if the light goes on…" she paused, thinking, "My parents might see it?"
"I am so not buying that. What's wrong? You're sitting in the cold with a bunch of incense burning and now you're lying just so the lights stay off." She felt the hand on her forearm again. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she answered. It would have been much more convincing if the chattering of her teeth hadn't shown through at that point. "What I mean is, there's nothing wrong. I've just become accustomed to this." She waved a hand to indicate the temperature, despite his lack of sight.
Danny laughed. "I wonder why you're used to it," he said sarcastically. "I'll bet it has absolutely nothing to do with me."
Sam's eyebrows shot up and she tugged more forcefully at her bottom lip. How nerve-wracking! The stupid kid had barged in on her in the middle of such an embarrassing habit and hadn't even realized…
"You never answered me," she said, turning the tables away from her. "Why'd you come here? It's got to be around midnight by now."
There was another pause in which she could imagine Danny's expression; stupid smile, trying to act like there was nothing important to say about it, but doing it so well that it was obvious something was. "Oh, well, you know how my sleep pattern's been lately," he explained. "I don't usually sleep much at this time nowadays, so I couldn't tonight. And I got bored of surfing the Internet, so I figured I'd see you since Tucker's usually in a coma by now."
"Ah…"
"Okay, now, I answered you," he said strictly. "So now you have to answer me."
"But I already –"
"Nix that," he interrupted. "There's no way you're that used to this… this cold, oh my God, Sam, I'm going to get frostbite in here! I should definitely be more used to it than you are."
Sam groaned and leaned backwards, her head resting against her pillows. A round of curses for the hybrid were running through her mind. "Since when were you so persistent?"
"Since half of my brain numbed in this room." The mattress shifted and she felt Danny crawl over the bed to a spot behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling the cover over them. Cinnamon wafted around her… so that's why she'd taken such a liking to that particular incense. "If you don't give me a decent explanation I'm going to change that thermostat for you."
Her mouth was zipped tightly, her voice would stay perfectly evasive, she would stop those insane butterflies and –
"It's just that being cold reminds me so much of you." Her words came out in such a speedy garbled mess she hadn't even realized what she said until a few moments later. She gasped and clasped her mouth shut with her hands, eyes shut tightly.
What the heck was that?
"Excuse me?" Danny's voice cracked ever so slightly, but Sam noticed. His surprise had to mean something bad.
A strong urge to bang her head against the wall overwhelmed her but she restrained herself to the best of her abilities. No getting out of this one, she thought to herself. But now that she'd begun, the crack in the dam began to build pressure. She could feel it begin to push against the wall….
She took one breath full of the crisp air and said, "I'm not used to it and I don't ever want to get accustomed to it. To be brutally honest, whenever I'm cold I think of you, and all of a sudden I'm not cold anymore. Suddenly, I feel imaginary arms wrap around me and it all just goes away. And, well, I don't know…." She smiled sheepishly. "I guess I kind of like it."
Danny was once again silent for a very long time. The more seconds that ticked away, the more anxious Sam became. How was he going to interpret that? Was it too easy for him to piece together? Was he not saying anything because he didn't want to hurt her feelings? Why on God's beautiful earth did she even say anything!
"Ermm…" Danny shifted behind her and she felt his hands leave her arms. "Yeah. Uh."
"Forget it," she said quickly. "It's nothing… I didn't mean that –"
"What? Wait! I never –"
"I'm not being freaky or anything like that, it's just that ever since you got your powers…"
"Look, I don't think that you're being-"
It was as if his futile interruptions weren't reaching her ears in time. She scooted back and wrung her hands together, trying to gain control of her blathering to little effect. "I mean it's not like you're not still cold when you're in ghost mode it's just that for some reason whenever-"
"Sam!" he cried, so loudly (at least compared to their whispers) that Sam's mouth instantly clamped shut. "Calm down. You're getting jittery. It's scaring me. You and jittery isn't a good combination."
Sam closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, focusing on settling her nerves. She'd done an amazing job of covering it up, hadn't she? Somehow she managed to gulp down her uneasiness and nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
"It's all right," he breathed. She could faintly see small movements from him as her eyes began to adjust better to the darkness. His shifting was gawky, and his face was still shrouded.
Say something, she silently urged him. Say anything. I hate socially awkward silences, you know that, Danny…
"So," he finally whispered, slowly and hesitantly. "Even when I'm a ghost…" The light that was released when he transformed temporarily blinded her. She could feel the temperature drop like cold water had been dumped into the room and her legs got goose bumps. The familiar hand pressed against her arm again, and she could feel him scoot towards her. "You're still warm around me, huh?"
Sam felt her body heat up, especially (yet again) around her face. "Uh, yes?" she answered tentatively. He moved toward again, moving to her side and wrapping one arm around her back. So cold it was warm. This was the real experience of the oxymoron, without relying on imagination alone.
"Is that supposed to mean," he asked quietly, "what I think it means?"
She nodded and hummed an answer, not caring anymore. Somehow she didn't even need to hear the next thing that came out of his mouth to know…
"You weren't really here just because you couldn't sleep, were you?"
Danny chuckled nervously. "Well, no, not exactly. I could probably close my eyes right now and snore louder than my heart beat." After a beat, he said, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
It was growing more and more difficult for her to hold in her relieved laughter. "Yes you did. No more than I didn't mean what I said." Suddenly she shivered again; apparently the effects didn't last forever. She moved out from Danny's arms, however reluctantly, and groped for her canopy. Her hand grazed it and she pulled it down. Moving back, she gripper the comforter and found Danny's wrist with some difficulty. He was yanked down to the pillows along with her.
A brilliant green light appeared over her head, veiling her in eerie shadows. Danny's arm was thrust in the air and he was looking at her bewilderedly. "Sam, what are-"
"Nothing," she interrupted. "I'm freezing now, and you're tired. I'm fixing the problem." She reached up and pulled his glowing hand back down. "Turn human."
Again the bright lights flickered and there wad darkness once again. Sam didn't let go of his arm and buried her sore head into the pillow. The lights hurt her eyes. She was quite content, even more so than just a daydream. Was she really calmer or had she just gotten too tired to care what was going on around her.
"You really like me, then?" Danny breathed, stating it more than asking it.
"You like me," was all she replied.
"Well, duh," Danny said. "I knew that."
Cool fingers brushed against her face and she didn't even flinch when she felt warm breath against her skin. She closed her eyes as Danny bent awkwardly forward to kiss her cheek. He pulled back sooner than she had expected and gasped. "You're so hot."
Sam's eyes shot open. "Uh… thanks?"
"No, I mean you're hot." His hand pressed against her face again, and for a human hand it seemed even colder. "As in, you're burning up."
Her eyes grew wider. "No," she said disbelievingly. "I do not have a fever." She started shaking again and pulled the covers higher. Danny wrapped her in his arms to try to keep her warm.
"You d-d-do, Sam," he said, yawning in the middle of the sentence. "I told you that you were nuts."
He could hear her moan from underneath him, muffled by the pillows in her face. However, the word 'irony' was distinctly audible, since she screamed it and pounded her fist.
All the same, she thought, most of her fantasies had come true, as corny as it sounded in her mind. Despite awaking in the morning to find her bed empty of anyone but herself, her curtains wide open and her head throbbing with fever, she knew that it really had been worth it.
Author's Note: 1:35 am, readers. I'm tired. And I still have to get most of my way through NGE… where's my caffeine?
See you in the afterlife,
Saramis Kismet