This fic has sexual innuendo and teenage male hormones. There is no sex, there is an explicitly written sexual situation. This is the fourth in a series of oneshots, the link to the sequel follows the story.

---

Where Bubbles Float Free

"It's finally warm," Sara said with a grin as she lounged back onto the grass of the football field. "What a relief after all that snow."

Tucker snickered from where he was laying next to her. "Don't get too used to it. It's just the first week of March. We have another month of cold coming up."

"Mother nature is a tease," was Sara's annoyed reply.

"When are they supposed to get here?" Tucker asked as he slid the stylus to his PDA back into its slot and Tucker it away in the bag between the two.

Sara shrugged. "Sam said she was on her way. But she was getting Danny. It could be hours."

"Sara," Tucker gasped. "Don't say things like that."

She shot him an amused grin as she flipped her red hair from her face. It had gotten longer since Christmas; she'd need to have it cut back again before too long. Otherwise it might drive her insane. "You're a pervert, Tucker, my dear. I meant that she had to wake him up."

Tucker's face flushed, barely perceptible beneath his dark skin, but enough for his girlfriend of nearly two and a half years to notice it easily. "Well, considering what you claimed to have seen before Christmas… It's a wonder I'm not looking at them cross eyed all the time."

"They're stubborn, aren't they?" she finally asked softly.

"You have to ask?" Sara laughed. Tucker sighed and reached an arm out, sliding it around her and absently stroking the soft skin of her arm as he pulled her close into him to cuddle. "Do you really think there's something going on?"

"I know what I saw," Sara answered as she leaned into Tucker. "I think Danny is just being oblivious, and Sam is lingering in denial."

Tucker snorted. "If that's what they're doing, it's worse than it ever was before."

"I know," was all Sara said.

"Do you really think they're just faking it?" Tucker asked as he glanced at his watch, wondering what could be taking Danny and Sam so long. They were supposed to be there more than ten minutes ago. At this rate, the water war would be cancelled because it'd be snowing again before they showed.

"They know." Sara sighed and leaned into Tucker, closing her eyes. "I think it's pretty obvious they've known for a while."

"What does that mean?"

Sara flushed a little and buried her face into Tucker's chest to hide it. "Don't ask me that, Tucker. Please, I'm begging you."

Tucker pulled back and looked at her, then laughed when he realized she was brick red. "No, really, what does it mean?"

"Well, I was thinking about it," Sara started and trailed off as she buried her face in her hands. "I was thinking about what I saw," she finally said, muffled as it passed her fingers. "They, ah, they weren't touching like it was, um, their first time doing it."

Despite the stumbling words, Tucker's mouth dropped open as he began to understand exactly what Sara meant. Danny and Sam hadn't just been making out, like Sara had led him to believe. But the missing details could definitely explain the odd way she would look at them on occasion, the way her eyes would slide past Danny's or Sam's when there were lovebird comments.

But Tucker's train of thought was broken as he suddenly heard, "In fact, they looked pretty comfortable the way they, um, were. You know?"

"No, I don't know," Tucker finally said.

"Oh god," Sara muttered before looking up at him, her gray-green eyes wide. "He had Sam up against the wall."

There was a long silence as the new information was digested, and then Sara was shaking her head and holding her hands out at Tucker, trying to keep him from jumping up and running off to beat the hell out of his best friend. "Tucker. Tucker! Listen to me. It wasn't like that."

"What was it like then? That would explain why they've been acting weirder than usual, wouldn't it?" he shot at her, but stayed next to her on the grass.

"Tucker, honey, it was more like Sam had her legs wrapped around Danny."

"Oh," was all Tucker managed.

"I think," Sara continued, intent on driving home to Tucker that there had been more than willing participation on both sides, "that if it hadn't been like, two degrees out, it would've been a lot more embarrassing for all of us when I walked out."

"Oh," again was all Tucker managed to say.

"It's sweet, though," Sara said as she pressed a soft kiss to Tucker's lips. "You'd try and beat Danny up if he hurt Sam. It's really sweet."

He grinned at her. "That's me, sweet Tucker Foley."

Sara groaned and laughed. "I love you, Tucker. I really do."

"And you have no idea how happy that makes me," he said as he pulled her close and rolled her back into the grass, kissing her with more fervor than the gentle peck she'd just given him.

"Get a room!"

Tucker groaned and Sara flushed and giggled as the missing pair finally walked up. "You guys suck," Tucker muttered as he rolled off of Sara and she sat up, adjusting the new emerald green bikini that Tucker had helped her pick out. A fact that she was sharing with no one, because there was no explanation for what had happened in the dressing room afterward.

Of course, she thought with a grin, Sam might understand, given how she'd been wrapped around Danny before Christmas. More than understand if the longing glances she was currently aiming his way meant anything. And Sara was very, very sure that they did.

She stretched and stood up slowly as she let out a yawn. "It took you guys long enough. Were you doing something we would do?" The blush on Danny's face was worth the jab, and Sara laughed out loud as he frowned her way, knowing that she'd done it on purpose.

Maybe he's not as clueless as we all like to think, she considered.

"Are you guys ready to rock?" Danny asked as he hefted a super soaker to his shoulder. The smile he shot at Sara was downright evil, and she shivered as she dove behind Tucker, dropping to the ground and scooping up the smaller water pistols she'd brought along for the day of water wars.

"No cheating," Tucker warned Danny, who only laughed and went intangible as Sam pointed one of the three water guns draped across her back at him and squirted.

"It's only fun if you break the rules," Danny tossed back and suddenly disappeared.

Sam glared at the empty place where'd he'd been moments before and jabbed at it with her water gun. There was a yelp and Danny flickered back into sight with a pained glance at Sam as he rubbed his side. "If you get caught because you used your powers, it'll be all over the news before the sun goes down."

"Alright, alright," he muttered and dropped the super soaker to the ground so that he could strip his shirt off. The scars had long since stopped drawing attention from Sara, she understood what they were. Inevitable in his line of work, and something that he wasn't ashamed of. Just concerned about the wrong people seeing them.

With a grin Tucker followed suit, tugging his own shirt off and snatching the super soaker from Sara's hand, running as she screamed and gave chase. Danny laughed as they took off and glanced at Sam. "Us against them?" he asked, and she nodded.

"You can have one of mine. Then we're even." She struggled to untangle the straps until Danny finally grabbed them and phased all three water guns off of her with a grin. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said, and then just watched as she slipped her shirt off with catlike grace.

It had been three months since Sara had walked out on in them behind the Nasty Burger. Three long, long months. He'd touched her exactly seven times since then. Intentional, hungry, predatory touches. Five of them had been heated kisses snatched when she least expected them. Two in the halls at school before they filled with students. Two snatched on the fly when he was Phantom and supposed to be concentrating on battling whichever ghosts had afforded him the chance to have her pressed tight against him.

One behind the very bleachers surrounding them right now.

The other two times… Once she had kissed him. A hesitant thing, underneath the mistletoe when no one was watching on Christmas Eve. That was what had given him the courage to steal the kisses he had. That and the way she had kissed him back, the sounds she had made. The way her hands seemed to try and find bare skin whenever he touched her with his mouth.

But the other time had been an aborted attempt at repeating the desperate heat and passion in the snow behind the Nasty Burger. Aborted because her parents had come home, and he'd been there as Danny Phantom, not Fenton, and there was no explanation for why their daughter was wrapped around a ghost. Well, actually, there was. But it wasn't one they cared to share.

It had been better to leave and never let them know he was ever there.

And that had been barely two weeks ago, leaving him completely strung out with wanting to just touch her. Danny shook his head as he looked away. Her shirt was hitting the ground next to his and he was studiously avoiding looking at her. She'd broken out the black bikini again. The scraps of fabric that had started all of this. To be fair, he knew they hadn't started it. But he wanted to blame something.

I could always blame the ice cubes, he thought with a sardonic smile.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked as she took two of the water guns back and settled them over a shoulder easily.

He tossed her a heated glance and deliberately let his eyes slide down her body, over the barely covered swell of her breasts, across the flat panes of her stomach, and past the cut off jeans she wore to skim down her legs. She would never be buxom, not Sam. She was far too slim for that, but it was something he preferred. Simple curves as opposed to anything overdone like most of the girls their age wanted to be.

When he finally found her eyes again she was blushing red enough that he imagined he could feel the heat radiating off of her. "Do you really need to ask?"

"No," she said quietly.

"Sam," he started, but stopped when he was hit square in the shoulder with a freezing stream of water. He squeaked. There was no dignity, no attempts at playing it off and being manly. Suddenly warmer weather or not, the water was still like ice.

"Going to kill you," he managed to get out before he was off, sneakers digging into the turf of the football field as he chased after Tucker, leaving Sam laughing as the two of them ran, dodged, sucked, shrieked loudly as more icy water was sprayed, and then finally went down as Danny took Tucker out in a flying tackle.

"They certainly are energetic," Sara commented as she dropped her stolen super soaker. "Is it just them, or do all boys have that much energy?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't like being up before noon. Creature of the night, hello."

Sara laughed, then tossed a damp arm around Sam's shoulders. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"What are you doing with Danny?" Sara asked without preamble. Talking to Tucker about his two best friends wanting to have hot, sweaty, pressed-up-against-a-brick-wall-but-feeling-so-good-that-it-doesn't-hurt moments wasn't easy. But talking to Sam about carnal desires was simple. They both knew the truth, they both knew the other knew.

They were pragmatic women. There was no sense in beating around the bush. Or the bleachers, as it were, with Danny still chasing Tucker who had managed to escape from the tackle somehow.

"No powers!" Tucker yelled as Danny started to phase his shorts off, and Danny laughed wickedly.

Sam chuckled. Then sighed heavily enough that Sara's arm heaved at her shoulders. "I don't know what I'm doing with Danny. I'd rather leave it at that."

Sara frowned. "You're crazy about him." Not a question, just a statement of fact. Sam accepted it with a defeated nod. "Then what's the problem?"

"I don't know," Sam muttered as she pulled away from Sara and fiddled with a couple of knobs on one of her water guns.

Sara tossed a glance at Danny and Tucker, who were both now yelling as Tucker stood at the top of the bleachers and shot steady streams of water down at Danny. It was rather funny, the way Tucker was gloating at the top of his lungs one moment, and then suddenly panicking and slipping as he tried to race through rows of bleachers when he ran out of water.

It was even funnier the way Danny opened up fire with his still full backup weapon, the one Sam had given him, and gave chase straight through the bleachers. No powers indeed.

But the yearning stare that followed Danny told Sara a lot more than anything she'd seen before. There was no doubt that Sam wanted to be with Danny. Just like it was obvious to anyone with two eyes that he wanted to be with her. Of course, they couldn't ever seem to see it themselves… But Sara watched Danny for a moment, realizing that in between all of the play fighting with Tucker (and another flying tackle, this time quite literally flying) he kept looking back at Sam.

Quick glances, short glances. Looks that were full of hunger, and something Sara was very familiar with because it was something she could see so easily when Tucker looked at her.

He was in love with Sam. And the insight went deeper as Sara realized that Danny knew. He knew that he was in love with Sam. It was just so plain to see in the way he looked at her, tried not to touch her but so frantically held on when he did. Sweet, sad and utterly, utterly desperate.

Oh yes, Danny Fenton knew very well that he was in love with Sam Manson.

And she was in love with him, whether Sam could admit it or not. But despite that, Sara thought that it wasn't the emotion itself that frightened her. It was the hunger behind it. And Danny was a red blooded teenager, male, and if there was one thing all teenaged boys wanted, it was sex.

In a flash of insight Sara understood two things. One, that Sam was afraid that all Danny wanted was sex, or the physical, perhaps. Two, that she'd been spending way too much time with Jazz. It was just wrong to figure people out the way she was. Useful, but wrong.

But in for a pence, in for a pound, Sara decided. She'd throw it all in.

"He's very attached to you, Sam," she said hesitantly, not sure if it would be enough to take Sam past the fear, or if more plain speech was required.

"He's my best friend," Sam said unhappily, almost desperately.

Plain speech it was. "He's in love with you." And plain speech worked, if the startled stare Sam turned on Sara was anything to judge by.

"He's seventeen," she exclaimed. "He doesn't even know what love is."

Sara laughed at that, loudly. "Sam, trust me on this one. Danny knows exactly what love is."

"Maybe," was all the Sam had the time to say before two soaked and dripping boys were racing back to them.

"This is going to be bad, isn't it?" Sara asked as she braced for the icy embrace Tucker wrapped her in, holding tighter as she squealed and struggled to get away. "You're cold!"

"And you two are all dry. Supposed to be wet," he chanted as he squeezed as much water across Sara as he could. "I am so making you wet," he added for good measure, for once not taking in the double entendre he would normally have chortled about.

For her part Sam was steady on her feet as Danny's chilled and dripping arms folded around her, pulling her fully as close as Tucker was holding Sara. And when his lips brushed along the curve of her ear, dropped a little lower and pressed a quick and careful kiss in the hollow just below, she was as still as ever, wanting so badly to hold on to him and torn between the uncertainty and the desire not to be frozen and wet all over, as opposed to only where he was dripping on her.

But when he whispered, "I'm going to make you wet," and then pulled back, his blue eyes dark and dancing, her resolve to be careful left her completely, and she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

For a moment Danny's heart raced as he thought she was going to kiss him. But she only arched a delicate eyebrow at him and smiled—there was no other word for it, he knew—seductively as she murmured, "Wouldn't you like to?" against his cheek as she let him press his slick body against hers.

Then she was moving away from him and Danny was trying to figure out exactly how she had gotten the upper hand when he'd made the move. "Women," he muttered, "are evil."

Tucker laughed at him as he dropped down on the grass and reached back for the bag he and Sara had left there, digging out a couple towels and tossing them around. Before too long all four teenagers were lounging ands soaking up the sun, trying to get warm again after the water battle that, somehow, only the boys had fought, and had still been the losers.

"We were outmaneuvered, weren't we?" Tucker asked as he dropped his head against Sara's thighs and closed his eyes contentedly.

"You were," Sara said with a smile as she ran a hand over his forehead. "That's why women make such brilliant rulers. They know when to send the troops to battle, and how to get them to do what needs to be done."

Tucker cracked an eye at her. "And I needed to be dragged underneath ten feet of earth?"

Sara laughed, delighted. "You were the one that started it."

Sam chuckled. "You did, Tucker. You hit him when he wasn't doing anything."

Danny looked away as Tucker narrowed his eyes at Danny. "Oh, he was doing something, alright."

"Tucker," Sara said lowly.

"Alright, alright," he said and admitted defeat, closing his eyes again. "But only because I love you."

"Lovebirds," Danny tossed at them, and laughed when he received fierce scowls in return. "Hey, do you guys remember slip and slides?"

Sam laughed and laid back on the grass, squirming as it itched her bare back. "I always wanted one of those. My mom said they were too dirty."

"Your mother is weird," Sara commented as Danny and Tucker exchanged an amused glance and then nodded at each other.

"Okay, we're going to go get water," Tucker suddenly announced.

"And I'm going to get everything else," Danny finished as he looked around and then changed to ghost mode as he saw that no one was around to see. "We'll meet back in say, fifteen minutes?"

---

And that was how they ended up covered in dish soap, bubbles, and sliding across a dozen or so garbage bags staked into the middle of the football field. They were all laughing as they slid like little kids, usually skidding across several feet of grass when they hit the end of the ramp and elicited repeated complaints from Tucker about how much better a real slip and slide was, and all because it had a stopping point.

"You're a wuss, Tuck," Danny laughed as he went intangible and slid through the grass instead of top of it. With a laugh he shot up in the air and reformed so that he could grab Tucker and toss him down the slippery bags to the other end.

"Owww," Tucker gasped as he came to a stop near Sam, and Sara laughed hysterically as she dropped down next to him and plucked some grass from his cheek.

Sam started laughing and looked down at herself, sighing. "I think my mom was right. I'm covered in soap and grass."

"If it were a real slip and slide it wouldn't be dirty," Tucker muttered as he eased himself into a sitting position, joining Sara in the plucking of grass blades from his skin. "If you can stand the cold, there's a hose behind the bleachers," he said as he waved a hand in that direction.

Sam narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. "There was a hose right there, and we had to tramp all the way to your house for water?"

"Hey, I like being able to feel my toes," he said with a cheeky grin. "You didn't notice that I was filling all of the water guns with hot water?"

She just muttered something under her breath and stalked off, feet squishing in her sneakers as she brushed suds from her arm. There was indeed a hose behind the bleachers and Tucker was right. It was like ice. But it was better than nothing, and Sam didn't want to have to walk all the way home in the state she was just so her mother could have a panic attack before Sam could explain she hadn't been attacked.

Rather, she had been the one attacking.

Never mind the show her mother would put on before Sam could explain that she'd attacked slick and slippery garbage bags. Oh yeah, not going to happen.

It was even in her hair, she realized disgustedly as she turned the cold water on the ends of it, making stick to her shoulders as she washed the tips off, fingers combing through it. She was so wrapped up that when the offer of help came she jumped and swung around, the water spraying everywhere and the hose snapping out like a weapon.

A distinctly soggy Danny stared at her from underneath black hair that straggled across his eyes, an amused smile on his face as he held on to the hose where'd he'd stopped it from hitting him. "I promise, I won't offer to help you again," he finally said as Sam got herself under control, the sudden fear rapidly diminishing and disappearing to be replaced by something else.

After all, she was now alone and completely out of sight with a half naked and very wet Danny.

She realized she wasn't the only one thinking along those lines when he finally spoke again, dropping the hose and saying, "Turn the water off," in a low voice that made things deep inside her curl and shiver in anticipatory delight.

She did, and before she could even turn back to him he was pressed against her, his skin slick against her back as his hands came around her to clutch at her stomach. She let her head fall back against him as warm lips found the still cool skin of her throat, and Sam sighed on a whisper that sounded like a plea. It was enough, and Danny turned her around in his arms, pulling her close and kissing her without any preamble, lips hot and insistent before his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

This was how it should be, Sam decided. Slick skin, the way she slid against his body and the soapy remains of earlier games. Hands, lips, teeth and tongue, it was driving her crazy, and she dug her hands into his hair, pulling him closer so that she could kiss him more completely, melt into him with a moan that had Danny's eyes flying open in pleased surprise.

He pulled back with a faint grin and ran a hand across her face, pushing hair back from where it trailed across her skin. "Sam," he started, and she tried to stop him. He only shook his head and took her hand firmly in his own so that she couldn't stop him from speaking.

"Sam," he said again, and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "It's not just this. It's not just the physical." His blue eyes bore into hers with a searching look. "This is great, it is," and he grinned at the smugly amused smile she gave him. "But it's not just about this."

He kissed her again then, and the sharp retort Sam had managed to form in her mind slipped away completely as his hands slicked down her sides to hold her at her waist, fingers squeezing into soft flesh and making her shiver. It was possessive, primal, a prelude to carnal, but she didn't protest. She only moved closer to him, faintly surprised when he pushed her up against one of the supports for the bleachers and giving her a solid and unmoving surface to lean back against as he leaned into her.

It reminded her so much of the brick wall, Danny's aborted attempt two weeks before, and the kiss he'd snuck in on her at a football game…

"Danny," she moaned out as his mouth moved against her throat, lower to graze her collarbone. A sharp, teasing bite at the smooth skin that her bikini didn't covered, and Sam's eyes flew open in shock as she realized how close he was to crossing one of the points of no return, and then more so when she realized that he had fingers at the button of her shorts and was looking up at her for permission.

"You can tell me to stop, Sam," he said to her softly, voice not betraying how very badly he wanted her to say yes. "All you have to do is say it, and I'll stop. We can go back out there with Sara and Tucker and go back to pretending that this isn't happening."

There was a long moment of silence, and then Danny smiled, his lips brushing the curve of her breast. "I don't really want to pretend anymore."

And neither did she.

The understanding came quickly, unexpectedly, and Danny knew it when he saw it, when Sam closed her eyes and let her head slide back against the column, the way her pulse beat wildly at her throat, the sensuous smile that curved her lips. The way she didn't say no, or tell him to stop, and only breathed his name as he let his mouth suckle at the edge of her bikini, creamy skin going pink as he moved his mouth over it, eagerly tasting the clean skin.

The startled gasp as his mouth covered her breast, tongue teasing the nipple through the fabric was enough to make Danny smile wickedly. Nothing he was thinking of included actually seeing what he was touching. No, that was asking for more trouble than he had time to deal with, but he'd sure as hell touch. Touch, just like he'd been dying to for months.

Years, more like, and the button of her shorts gave way easily as he thumbed it through the hole. He'd wanted this for years. His hand slipped lower, fingers dipping under the waist of the bikini bottoms she wore, and the whimper she gave him, the way her back arched as his fingers went lower, was enough to make him groan.

"Sam," he whispered softly, then his eyes went wide as his fingers touched smooth skin. "Oh, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?" he asked amused as he moved his mouth back up to hers, and kissed her deeply, tongue sliding across hers and lips firmly insistent.

"I have to have something to make you look at me like that," she murmured. She smiled up at him as he stood there, one hand behind her on the column to support himself, the other in very dangerous territory beneath her clothes, and still. So still that she smiled at him archly. "Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to do something?"

So she really wasn't going to stop him. He kissed her again, watching as her eyes slipped closed and his hand went lower, fingers sliding against damp skin and into the slickness he hadn't exactly been expecting. He paused again, surprised, again. Sam only cracked her eyes open a bit, dark lavender peering at him and amusement obvious.

"You said you were going to make me wet," she reminded him with a smile.

"So I did."

It was wrong on so many levels, Danny realized as he stood with Sam behind the bleachers, pressing her against the column and touching her in ways he'd only dreamed about. Broad daylight, on school grounds, practically fully clothed. With their best friend only on the other side of the bleachers with his own girlfriend, and anyone could walk around and see what he was doing to Sam.

Oh hell, if they were really unlucky, someone would hear.

But, he decided as he tasted his way down the long, pale line of Sam's throat, his fingers moving gently against her, anything that could have her whimpering, sighing, moaning like that, wasn't at all bad. The way his name sounded on her lips had him aching as he contemplated what her fingers would feel like wrapped around him. It was almost enough to make him beg.

Almost, but not quite, and he was firmly of the mind that pleasuring her was its own reward.

And if those noises were anything, the low whimper she gave when he finally, hesitantly, slid a finger inside her was enough, more than enough, to make him stop doubting that she wanted this as much as he wanted to do it to her. She was tight. Hot, tight, deliciously wet, and he moved gently as he carefully slid his thumb over the hard nub of her clitoris, bringing a gasp to her lips that he drank in eagerly, kissing her again and watching the way her mouth fell open as he slid his finger slowly within her.

It was exciting, thrilling, so wonderfully and terribly hot. Passionate and her eyes looked up at him, unexpectedly dark. "Danny," she moaned softly and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him fiercely and then she was shuddering, clenching tightly around his fingers, body pressed against him and her hands clutching at his shoulders.

The way she was breathing, rapidly, gasping breathes that said more than anything else that she had enjoyed it. The way she looked up at him, eyes wide and dark and so very beautiful. The resolve Danny had made months before not to say anything, not to push her too far before she was ready, broke with an almost audible crack as the stood there in the shadows beneath the bleachers.

"Sam, I'm in love with you."

It was absurd. He knew, and he was sure she would appreciate the irony when she got over the shock those six whispered words had given her. There they were, he still had his hand buried down her shorts, she was still recovering from the effects of that hand down her shorts, and there was the chance that anyone could find them exactly as they were. And he was confessing his love for her.

It was beyond absurd.

"Don't say anything," he said softly, quickly, before she could even think of a response. "I just wanted to tell you. At least once, I wanted to say it."

She didn't say anything for a moment, and Danny kissed her cheek as he gently redid the zipper on her shorts, slid the button back through its hole. He quirked a smile at her as he adjusted the little black triangles of her bikini, and then smugly produced a towel. A wet towel, yes, she hadn't noticed it when she'd sprayed him with the water before they'd… She was still quiet as he stood there, and then she finally decided on something to say.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

Danny smiled at her, knowing it was a wicked thing. Where had he learned, indeed. Nobody but he needed to know about the stacks of trashy romance novels hidden away under his bed. Not even Jazz, though he was sure she was wondering where exactly all of hers had gone. He made a quick mental note to convince her there was a Book Ghost who was more obsessive than the Box Ghost.

"I have my ways," he said with a grin, and leaned forward to kiss her again, long and slow. Then smiled wider at the dark glare she sent him as he pulled back. "Not with anyone else, Sam. So don't even think that. Don't ever think that."

The puzzled look was cute. Very cute. But he still wasn't going to enlighten her. He'd save that for later, and he'd enjoy it completely then. He could show her some of his favorite passages and convince her to try them out with him. Oh yes, that was a good plan.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts of future escapades that the slender fingers brushing across him startled him into a gasp. His hand shot out and Sam's wrist was held firmly as he looked at her, trying to think and savor the momentary feeling of the way she'd touched him all at once. He was only male, it was a difficult thing to do.

"Don't," was all he said, and she arched an eyebrow and her lips curved up. He laughed and shook his head. "I'm good, Sam. You don't have to." He said nothing about if she wanted to, only let the words lie between them.

"Are you sure?" she asked, leaning closer to him and brushing her lips across the bouncing pulse at his throat, he breath warm and moist against it.

"I'm sure," he said a he exhaled shakily. "Trust me, I'm good."

And he was. Reciprocation… No, that's not what he wanted. He just wanted her. Just knowing that he could do what he'd done to her, could make her whimper, moan, say his name like that. It was enough. More than enough to hold him over until he could slip away with her again, and make her writhe underneath his touch, underneath him.

He didn't need anything more right now. He could wait. He had plans.

---

"She's been gone a while."

Danny's thoughts echoed Tucker's, and he sat up off the grass with a sigh. He batted at the bubbles that Sara was idly blowing, rolling his eyes as she deliberately aimed the next stream at his head. They burst as they hit, leaving splotches of soapy residue behind. An odd few managed to slip past him whole and unscathed to float up into the sky.

He had messed up. How, he wasn't sure. There were so many things to choose from. He shouldn't have done what he did, even when he told her he would have stopped if that's what she wanted. He shouldn't have told her that he was in love with her. He shouldn't have stopped her from—no, that was alright. Stopping her had been alright, because his first time with Sam wasn't going to be behind the bleachers at school.

Not a chance in hell.

Danny sighed. He should have stayed with her, he should have left sooner. Maybe he shouldn't have left her alone at all, despite her assurances that she was fine. He could have ignored Sara and Tucker when they demanded help. After all, he'd been the one to get it all set up and staked out.

"You worry too much," Sara said as she tossed a bottle of bubbles at Danny. "Make some bubbles."

He chuckled and unscrewed the lid, dipping a finger in and fishing around until the wand was hooked and he was pulling it out. He pursed his lips as blew, bubbles beginning to stream from the other side until, with a pop that splashed his face, the soapy membrane burst and he had to dip again. It was peaceful, more than he'd realized something so juvenile could be, and he dipped again, and again, ignoring Sara's smug grin as she shot more bubbles at him.

"Hey!" he said, and promptly sent a dozen or so at her. She laughed and then smiled widely, making Danny look back over his shoulder. It was Sam. She was heading towards them with a bag looped over her arm. Despite the worry, the still hot ball of nerves in his gut, relief slipped through him as he realized she had gone and gotten drinks for all of them. That was what had taken her so long.

"Caffeine!" Tucker shouted and hopped up, jogging over to Sam and taking the bag. He dug one out and cracked it open before following Sam and dropping back into the grass next to Sara, the bag dumped in between all four of them.

The relief grew as Sam sat down next to Danny and grabbed a drink for herself, then handed the last one to Danny, her fingers brushing his and half lidded violet eyes meeting bright blue with a smile. A warm smile, a knowing smile. It was safe. She wasn't angry with him. In fact, he realized as she scooted a little closer to him and reached over him, purposefully letting her body press against his as she grabbed up the bottle of bubbles, she was flirting.

Really flirting, not the play stuff they'd done until the Fourth of July, and not the nervous stuff that had happened since. She was really flirting with him, and the thought floored him as he stared at her.

A slender finger dipped the wand out and she pursed her lips, then blew softly to make a single largish bubble. It popped free of the wand to Sara's admiration, but Danny ignored it, his eyes steady on Sam as she glanced at him through her lashes.

"You're pretty handy with the bubbles," Danny finally said. "I can only make the little ones."

Sam smiled widely. "Yeah, pretty handy with everything."

Danny choked on his soda, and Sara laughed loudly. Tucker was, for once, oblivious as he played with his PDA. Sam, however, was smiling at no one in particular, just blowing more bubbles, this time a little stream of them that was soon bouncing off of the bubbles Sara felt compelled to make. A challenge, and Sam sent another stream out.

And in the middle of the bubble war, completely unknown to Sara and Tucker, Sam reached out a hand to Danny's, and held on tightly.

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a href"http/ target"blank" Revenge of the Ice Cubes /a

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Edited: 09/28/06.