Disclaimer Haiku:
For it is said that
Danny Phantom is owned by
Butch Hartman, not me.
A/N: Written for MyAibou, who asked for Danny, Sam and 'choices' during the drabble giveaway I ran on my LiveJournal. She was technically too late to request anything, but I liked the concept my brain conjured and I'd never really written anything DP before (unless you count crappy little crossovers with Yu-Gi-Oh! and Xiaolin Showdown).
Choices
© Scribbler, October 2007.
"Sooo… what's your answer?"
Danny felt the blush creeping up his neck and into his hairline. Any minute now his ears were going to start flaming. "Uh…"
Sam scuffed her foot as she waited. She never scuffed her foot. It was too nervous and girly.
"Damn chewing gum."
Oh.
"Uh…" C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, come on. Answer her, quick! The longer you leave it, the worse it'll be – she might even get offended and leave. Just open your mouth and speak. S-P-E-A-K-
"If it's too difficult to give me an answer right now, I'll just go."
"No, don't! Sam, wait, I… I just…" He scrubbed his hair. "It's a big decision, is all."
Sam looked at him. "Yes or no, Danny," she said steadily.
"Uh…" Boy, her eyes looked extra purple in this light. "Uh-"
"Danny!"
Danny shut his eyes. "Mustard! No, wait, ketchup!"
Sam sighed. "How freaking long does it take you to make a simple decision?"
"Hey!" Tucker piped up from behind them in the lunch line. "Don't rush the guy. Choosing the wrong condiment can completely ruin your burger-eating experience."
Fin.