Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in any of the one-shots posted in this story, unless otherwise stated. Danny Phantom is created by Butch Hartman, and I only own the writing here.
If there was one thing that was for certain, it was that Sam Manson and Danny Fenton were a great couple. Everybody knew it; at this point in time, even Sam and Danny knew it.
I didn't have a problem with it. Sure, Sam and Danny were my best friends. Sure, sometimes it was a little awkward when they got all mushy on each other. I wasn't jealous. I didn't feel that way about either of them. And I sure as hell didn't feel that way about Danny, of all people. Who would I even be jealous of? Sam? Pfft, as if. Besides, Danny was my best friend. My very straight best friend.
My very hot, straight best friend. OK, so I might have liked Danny in that way. Sue me. It wasn't like I'd ever act on it.
"Uh, Tuck? Are you okay? You've been staring at me for a couple minutes now. It's kinda freaking me out." Danny said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Huh?" I replied, intelligently. Shit. Stay calm, Foley. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... Thinking." About your pretty face. "So, did you beat the Box Ghost first period?" Good job, Tucker. Get the topic off of you. Danny shook the thermos in his hand, a faint 'beware!' coming from inside.
"Didn't even have to go ghost this time."
I snorted. "Heh. Not surprised, honestly."
Sam slid into her seat next to Danny, dropping her lunch tray onto the table. "This stuff is disgusting." She said, trying not to gag. She eyed her food warily, before poking it with her spoon. Did it just move?
"Yeah, that's why I pack my own lunch now," Danny said.
"Would you mind sharing?" Sam asked, hopefully.
"Lovebirds," I coughed, trying not to choke on my 'meatloaf,' of you can call it that.
Danny just grinned and kissed Sam's cheek. I ignored the slight pang in my heart.
Yep. Not jealous at all.