Daphne opened her eyes and yawned sleepily, stretching her arms as she sat up in the double bed. Feeling a slight sense of déjà-vu, she turned to her left to see that it wasn't entirely the same as when she'd last woken up in that bed. Sighing, she slipped out from under the covers and quickly made the bed, turning to the door. Walking over, she pulled it open and dashed out, hoping to make it to her bedroom before...

"Good morning," his words made her jump, and she turned to see him standing fully dressed at the end of the hallway, "So you finally decided to get up?" he asked, taking a few steps towards her. She scowled at him, turning the handle of her bedroom door and stepping inside.

"What does it look like?" she replied sarcastically, going to close her door but finding that he had already blocked the entrance.

"Perhaps my bed was too comfortable?" he questioned teasingly, a smirk on his face as she pulled her work clothes out of her wardrobe and set them down on her bed.

"Are you going to leave? Because I need to get dressed," she snapped, and he chuckled slightly.

"Sorry, sorry; I'll go," and with that he stepped out of the doorway and walked off towards the living room.

"Pervert..." she grumbled, but somehow he heard her.

"What?" he called, making her growl as she picked up her shirt.

"I said you're a pervert!" she shouted, and he laughed heartily causing a small smile to appear on her face.

"Thanks!" he replied sarcastically, and she smiled as she began to get dressed. No matter how angry she got with him, it often wouldn't take much for him to cheer her up again. He was good at that.


Happy with the way she looked, Daphne pushed open her bedroom door and walked into the living room, where Fred was sat on the couch with a newspaper. Hearing her footsteps, he looked up.

"Jimmy just called; he needs us down there right away," he explained, tossing the newspaper to the side and standing up. She nodded, taking a moment to look into his eyes. Why she was doing it she didn't know, but he seemed to notice, "W-why are you staring at me like that?" he asked, not breaking the eye contact.

She suddenly had an idea, and it was such a good idea that it made her smirk. Being careful not to break the eye contact, she gently grasped the front of his trench coat.

"You know, Fred, you and I have a lot in common. We're young, we work hard..." she paused, looking at him with the sexiest look she could manage, "...and we're both very good looking,"

At this point his 'Batman-Mode' was on, and he was staring at her as if she was wielding a rocket launcher and pointing it at his mother.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, and she smirked, moving her hands lower so that they were on his stomach.

"We both work so hard; don't you think we ought to be able to treat ourselves from time to time?" she chose which words she emphasised carefully, and it was having the desired effect on the man. His 'Batman-Mode' was weakening, and he was beginning to look slightly scared.

"W-well... it depends w-what you mean by... treat," he stuttered, feeling himself being pushed back towards the wall behind him. Daphne was enjoying herself too much to stop now.

"C'mon, Fred, you're a Detective. Work it out," she almost whispered, and she could see him begin to sweat slightly.

"Daphne... you know we can't," his words were shaky, and his breathing was starting to lose control. Fred felt his back hit the wall, and now Daphne had him pinned; a pawn in her seductive game.

"But why not? We both want this, so why don't we?" her hands moved even lower, and she hooked her fingers around the front belt-loops of his trousers.

"D-daphne..." he groaned, shifting slightly against the wall. She smirked, leaning up until her mouth was beside his left ear lobe.

"Let's give into our temptations, Freddie. We both want this; you and me, together," she whispered huskily, and she now could feel that her words were having a certain effect on her companion.

"Yes..." he moaned, looking at her lustfully as she leant back down to face him. Beads of sweat were trickling down his forehead now, and his chest was rising up and down rapidly.

"Here's what we're going to do, Fred," she paused, tugging gently on the belt loops, causing him to groan again, "We're going to go over to that couch, and you are going to make hot, steamy..." he suddenly reached forwards, grasping her elbows with his hands and closing his eyes.

"Just say it, Daphne!" he growled huskily, and she smirked.

"... Coffee for me,"

For a moment there was silence before he opened his eyes, and he stared at her like she'd gone mad.

"What?"

"We're going to go over to that couch, and you are going to make a hot, steamy cup of coffee for me before we leave; did you not get that?" she repeated with a sincere smile on her face. He stared at her with his mouth wide open, trying to process what had just occurred.

She suddenly removed her fingers from his belt loops and punched him in the arm; not hard enough to bruise him, but just enough so that it would hurt.

"Don't mess with me in the mornings, because two can play at this game, Frederick Herman Jones," she growled, frowning as she backed away from him and walked off in the direction of her room, "I'm going to my room to get my handbag, you... sort yourself out, and then we'll go," she explained, turning and disappearing from his sight.

He stood, dumbfounded for a moment, before he could fully run over what had just happened. She had managed to expose his weaker side and certain other things in fewer than two minutes, which angered him slightly. But what confused him the most was how ready he had been to do what she had been suggesting to him. He shrugged it off, straightening up before realising that he really did need to 'sort himself out'. As he walked away, one thought was on his mind.

She sure showed me...