The remainder of the van ride to Fred's UFO convention was quiet and awkward. Instead of the usual jokes, back and forth banter, and light discussion that they normally shared, it was a heavy silence. One that could actually be felt. Fred tried to speak only when necessary, asking if they should stop for gas or food. Likewise, Daphne only answered in short "yes" or "no" terms.

He had always enjoyed hearing Daphne's voice, even before he developed these pesky feelings, and now with this forced emotional distance between them, it was hard on his heart.

Fred understood what she had meant by "we shouldn't do this". He really did. He wasn't an idiot. It was the main reason why he had struggled making the first move himself for years. They both were risking a lot by crossing that delicate boundary between friends and lovers.

His career was pretty much riding on Daphne's coattails. Joran had only hired him at her insistence. A falling out could easily equate to unemployment and a crude ending to his lifelong dream of becoming a director.

Not to mention, their very friendship was in danger. A bond that had spanned over a decade. The gang was currently defunct right now, each person going their own seperate ways, but what if that changed? Would he be able to sit and shoot the breeze with Daphne again like old friends do? Just go on solving mysteries together like nothing had ever happened? Just pretend that he didn't know how soft her lips were now?

Fred glanced across the bench seat and saw that Daphne was sitting as far away from him as possible, her head leaning against the window, eyes focused on the trees whizzing by. He wondered what was on her mind and selfishly hoped that it was him.

XXXXXX

The UFO convention turned out to be a major let down. It had been raining throughout the week, turning the site into one giant muck fest. The guest speakers and abduction survivors had canceled their events. Several vendors still had booths open, displaying their wares for sale and their own collected conclusive evidence for life on Mars.

Daphne encouraged Fred to pan the immediate area with his camera, attempting to get a decent shot, but when everything is brown, murky, and damp that's like asking for a miracle.

Fred sighed, shifting the weighty camera higher on his shoulder, "Let's just cut for good, Daph, call it a day. This joint is total a bust."

"Absolutely not," she said defiantly, crossing her arms, "I can tell that some of these people might really be on to something. True visionaries! Imagine the ratings if we were the first to break a big story from here!"

"Ummm, you really think we're going to find breaking news here?" Fred asked, "That dude over there is bragging that he's mated with over ten different alien species."

Daphne grimaced, "Well, maybe not him exactly. I was just hoping that this trip wouldn't be a complete waste of time."

He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her a charming smirk, "I dont think it's a total loss. We did get some fantastic footage of the leaves changing colors."

Her breath caught in her throat from his touch, the first time they'd had contact since the incident in the van. She smiled back covering his hand with hers, and was disappointed when he suddenly pulled it away.

But this is what she wanted, wasn't it? Being just friends? Platonic individuals don't seek out physical comfort from each other.

Fred could sense the uneasiness that his touch had caused and turned away from her, hoping to ignore the fluttery feeling in his own stomach. "Let's just head back to the hotel, Daph. Before it starts to pour again."

Daphne turned to follow, but the sole of her heel was sucked into an unusually deep puddle of mud, like quicksand. Arms flailing helplessly, she reached out for something stable and caught the back of Fred's jacket, throwing him off balance. In all of a few seconds, they both had landed in the muck, along with the expensive camera.

She felt a pang in her chest when she heard him mutter, "Danger-prone Daphne strikes again."

XXXXXX

Back at the hotel, Daphne had gone to the room first to change while Fred tried his best to clean the camera in the van, but with no luck. The whole thing would have to be taken apart, piece by piece, cleaned, and reassembled. Dried gunk had saturated deep inside the machine and Fred's heart gave a little quiver, hoping it hadn't done any permanent damage.

Sliding his card key into the door lock, he let himself in. His white coat and blue undershirt had become stiff from dried mud and was beginning to itch. Yanking both garments off, he tossed them in a corner and moved towards the bathroom to wash off.

He froze in the door way, having forgotten that Daphne had already beaten him to it, her own jacket and skirt in a messy pile covered with grime. She stood semi-nude, getting a quick sink bath clothed only in her green tank top and panties. The vision she presented was alluring, and he found he couldn't pull his eyes away from her if his life depended on it.

He glanced down at her dainty feet, her nails neatly painted a bright violet, the heels smooth. It was obvious pedicures were part of her weekly routine. He moved his eyes upwards, seeing her toned legs ebb and stretch while washing at the counter, and he recalled how those same feminine legs felt strong when they were wrapped around his waist.

His gaze explored higher, noting the soft curves of her ass, Daphne's thin panties leaving very little to the imagination. Fred's fingers clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to reach out and touch the teasing skin. He deeply regretted moving so fast now with Daphne in the van, he should have taken his time, enjoyed every bit of her. Thinking of lost opportunities, Fred felt his jeans getting tighter.

He stared at her back, neck, and shoulders, barely clad by the tank top, and wondered how soft the skin would be under his fingertips. Watching with hungry eyes, he looked higher, meaning to observe her thick red hair, but instead his blood ran cold as Daphne's green eyes met his blues and held there.

Busted.

Her face was blank and he couldn't read if she was mad or not. She piqued an eyebrow, "Fred, are you watching me?"

Fred swallowed hard and thought a moment. He could lie, try to preserve this delicate peace they'd made…or…just be honest and tell her how he felt.

"Well, Freddie?" She asked, her hands on her hips.

Deciding then that the truth was his best bet, he apologized, shaking his head, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Daphne's gaze dropped to the now obvious bulge in his pants and she blushed a deep crimson. "Oh."

Fred could see her nipples pebbling under the tank top and realized she was quickly becoming as aroused as he was. When Daphne spoke, it was more to convince herself than him. "We agreed we wouldn't do this anymore. We're staying friends, remember?"

Despite Fred's blood being engorged elsewhere, his heartbeat was pounding in his ears. He desperately needed her in this moment, if only once more. To be fair, he couldn't ever remember desiring something, or someone, so badly.

He had to relieve this tension somehow and gripped the bathroom door frame hard, making the cheap wood crack. "Would it be wrong if we slept together one more time?"

She bit her bottom lip, considering his offer, and Fred pleaded again. "Just once more? And then we'll never speak of this again. Maybe if we get this out of our system, it'll be easier to go back to being only friends."

Daphne licked her lips, suddenly dry, and nodded her head. "Okay. Just one more time."

Fred came to her across the bathroom in two steps, crashing his mouth to hers. Her arms winded around his neck, pulling him closer. She wasted no time pushing her tongue past his lips, melting herself into him.

He lifted her effortlessly, placing her gently on the bathroom counter. His hands rolled her tank top up and over her head, while she was busy kicking off her panties.

He had sworn to himself moments ago that he would take it slow, mesmerize her curves, kiss every bit of skin he could reach if given another chance. But the instant that Daphne's hands had unbuckled his jeans, her fingers reaching in and curling around his hardness, he knew his plans were lost. Instead, they were replaced by such a base need that almost choked him.

Air? Food? Water? None of it compared to what might happen if he didn't get inside Daphne soon. He was afraid he might explode, literally combust from the inside out.

When Fred entered her for the second time, he was unprepared for how damn good it felt. Not just pleasurable, but…satisfying and familiar; like returning to your cozy hometown after being away for so many years.

He looked to her eyes, wanting to see her reaction, and discovered that she felt the same. They pressed together, her breasts grazing across his chest. She moaned his name softly, just barely audible, before seizing his mouth for a deep kiss.

He wanted to be gentle and easy, make it last for however long fate would allow. If this was the last time he would have her intimately, then he wanted to prove to Daphne just how much she meant to him.

When he started to thrust, Fred found he couldn't stop, and was no longer in control. It was as if his brain had been shut off, only performing the basic functions to spur him along; absorbing Daphne's pants, her breasts bouncing with the friction, her lips swollen from his kissing, all those sensual little details that Fred was trying to remember for a lifetime.

They rutted together roughly, her hips pushing up, trying to meet his own harsh movements. He could feel her fingernails digging into his biceps, her cries echoing in the small hotel bathroom. Fred was completely lost in her, his mind barely registering Daphne whimpering, "God, Fred…please…don't stop."

He knew his time with this beloved woman was coming to an end, the unspoken biological goal reaching closer and closer. She kissed him then, raking her teeth lightly along his bottom lip. He could feel her inner walls fluttering against his member, felt her legs tighten around his waist, drawing him in as deep as possible, trying to reach that sweet place.

"Please…" she begged again.

Obeying her whim, he let go of her hip and moved his fingers between their bodies. With a feather-light touch, he rubbed the sensitive nub above where their bodies joined. Daphne seemed to melt in his hands. All strength left her body as she came, her head tilted back against the mirror.

She brought her lips to his neck, sucking the skin there. It was more than enough to push him into the great white abyss. He spilled himself inside her, the universe around him dissolving. All that remained was just him and Daphne. He groaned her name over and over and over, his hips still languidly moving against her, until slowly coming to a stop.

Fred kissed her with as much passion as he could muster and said the only thing that felt right at this moment, "I lov-"

"No. Don't say it," Daphne interrupted, clapping her hand over his mouth, "Friends shouldn't say that to each other."

Fred closed his eyes to hide his hurt and kissed the palm of her hand instead. She leaned her sweaty forehead to his and asked, "We are still friends, right?"

Fred nodded, "Friends."