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 in what I'm writing.

017: Strawberries

Rating: PG

Theme: 001. Strawberry(ies)

August 14, 2008

Sam sat there with a bowl of strawberries next to her, watching television, when he phased into the room.

Just a simple bowl of strawberries, no whipped cream of chocolate dipping sauce necessary for her to enjoy the fruit.

Teenagers would have a bag of chips or some candy to tide themselves over while they watched TV; but, no, she had to have a simple bowl of strawberries. The way she ate them drove him mad, too. She shouldn't hold that power over him so carelessly–hell, of even so unknowingly.

"Are you going to stare or are you going to keep me company?" she asked, not even turning to where he was hovering by the window. She had always been talented in sensing where he was, even when he wasn't tangible–he had yet to investigate that fact, though that wasn't his reason for being there.

Just then he realized what she was wearing, finding the need to stare stronger than before, his eyes previously focused on her mouth. She was wearing a pair of black shorts and lacy, low-cut tank top, and he found it impossible to not find that more appealing than anything else any other girl in the world was wearing.

"Staring's nice."

"Of course," she chuckled. Switching her sitting position to Indian style, she placed the bowl in her lap, making it easier to eat.

Phasing into sight and changing back into being primarily human, he sat next to her, instantly wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Whatcha watchin'?" he asked, smiling at how easily her head found its way onto his shoulder.

"Beetlejuice," she responded as if she had seen the movie millions of times and it was the only thing on, now, to watch. He assumed she had actually seen the movie way too many times to count.

Making a small 'hn' noise in the back of his throat, he pulled her closer to him, his eyes on the television screen in front of them.

"Want one?" Sam asked after a couple minutes, holding up a strawberry close to his mouth. Without saying anything, he leaned forward and bit off piece of the fruit with a smile while he chewed.

"They're organic," she said as an afterthought, eating the rest of the strawberry he bit from, tossing the inedible part into the bowl with the others before picking up another.

"Of course they would be," he grinned, turning to look at her. She rolled her eyes, though with a small smile on her face.

"So, although I'm not upset by this sudden intrusion–far from it, what brings you here?" she asked, chuckling quietly at the kiss she received on her forehead before finishing her question.

"Can't a guy come see his girlfriend whenever he wants to without any ulterior motive?"

"With you, there's always something," she replied, giving him a look.

"I missed you, you know."

"I know," she managed to get out before his lips were on hers.

His arm moved that was around her shoulders so he could cup her cheek with that hand while he leaned into her. Without thinking, she moved her legs so she would be more comfortable over an extended period of time, forgetting about the bowl of strawberries altogether that were perched in her lap. Sam remembered a second too late as the bowl tumbled to the floor, onto the carpeting, sending strawberries flying in all different directions.

They paused in their kiss without moving far, foreheads together. She heaved a sigh, her frown deepening at his laughter.

"You're picking them up," she mock-glared at him, pulling away from his embrace as she crossed her arms over her chest.

His eyes immediately darted to her chest, which was more in sight now due to her movement, and darted back up to her eyes that had seen what he had just done. He chuckled nervously, holding up his hands in defense, crossing his index fingers over one another in a pathetic attempt to ward off her anger.

She rolled her eyes with a grin, not as angry as he would've imagined her being, and pulled him to her, into another kiss.

The strawberries could wait a little while.