Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom – I never have and I never will, simple as that. All of that amazing creative talent goes to Butch Hartman. Nickelodeon just sucks, I'm sorry (no, I'm not).

Author's Note: Since these are just going to be drabbles, this challenge will be updated sporadically, with no set limit or deadline. They'll generally be one page long or however the hell long I feel like writing something. This challenge is for 25(underscore)foods, and there are a various array of foods to choose from, so this challenge will be nothing less than interesting. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that you continue to come back for more!

Enjoy, and please review when you finish! Reviews help me update faster since I know people are actually interested.

016: Honey

Rating: PG

Theme: 013. Honey

August 7, 2008

"This is disgusting," he gagged, trying to get the taste off of his tongue. "How the hell is this supposed to make my throat better?"

"The honey is supposed to coat your throat in order for you to swallow easier, genius. It shouldn't be that hard to figure out," she replied, rolling her eyes at his behavior as she placed the jar of honey and spoon on his night stand. "You asked me for my help and here it is. Why are you complaining?"

"Because it tastes gross," he gagged, coughing. He frowned sourly at her, not liking her method of treatment, but trusted her nonetheless. "Thanks for the help, though, Sam." His frown softened into a watery smile before he coughed again, moaning and flopping on his back again on his bed.

"You're welcome," she responded, placing her hand on his forehead to see how hot he felt. "I also feel partially responsible for your cold, so..."

"Ah, you're helping me out of guilt, aren't you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her playfully before dropping that expression and shrugging. "Doesn't matter, though, since this sore throat was totally worth it."

"Oh, yeah?" she asked, sitting down on the bed next to him. "How so?"

"There are plenty of points from a couple days ago that make getting sick worth it–a lot of good points."

"Care to elaborate, Mr. Vague?"

"One, making out outside during thunderstorms is my new favorite thing..." he grinned at her blush, recalling how much she had loved it, as well. "Two, being with you anywhere, in the first place, is a good enough reason for me to get sick, especially when... you know... happens," he blushed, but she didn't notice since his face was flushed anyways from the coughing earlier.

"Oh, I know," she responded softly, playing with his hair. "Twice." He noted the expression on her face with interest, admiring the way her cheeks were lightly tinted with that blush he admired so much. For being so pale, it was a beautiful contrast to her already gorgeous features.

"Just sitting under our tree makes everything better," she spoke after a couple minutes of silence, still playing with his hair. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her hands in his hair. He absentmindedly praised himself for not cutting it lately. "Don't you think?"

He nodded slowly. He coughed a couple times before responding, "That brings me to my next point: three, how we spend our time at our spot, especially when no one can get to it without flying there. It's like our own personal getaway."

She kissed the crown of his head with a chuckle. "You've turned into a romantic sap, Danny Fenton."

"Don't even deny that you've rubbed off on me," he shot back, giving her a look. "You're the one at fault, here. You're more romantic than you let either of us," he said, referring to himself and Tucker, "know in the first place. How was I supposed to know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," she dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. "Whatever. Tucker had an idea when I became a jealous wreck on occasion." She gave him a playful pat on the head when he laughed.

They sat in silence, just listening to each other's breathing, Danny's being the most noticeable out of the two due to his sinuses. Sam stood suddenly, going over to the door and shutting it securely, not even bothering with the lock–his parents didn't notice them, either, when they broke down the door by accident.

He watched her curiously until he couldn't see her anymore when she flicked off the light and plunged them into darkness.

"May I ask what you're doing?" he asked.

He heard her shuffle back over to his bedside and kick off her boots, blushing slightly as he heard her tights follow.

"You may. I'm getting into bed with you," she responded, yawning suddenly, alerting Danny to how tired she actually was. "Your parents won't mind. I'll just say I got tired babysitting you all night. If you haven't noticed, they're already trying to plan our wedding along with my mother."

"I've noticed," he responded, pulling her down onto the bed with him, moving over so she could get underneath the blankets with him. "Though... aren't you afraid you're going to get sick?"

"It'll be worth it," she responded, nuzzling against him, her head leaning against his shoulder.