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.

019: Sushi

Rating: PG

Theme: 024. Sushi

March 19, 2009

"But it's vegetarian, what's wrong with–" she pouted, gearing up for an argument as she saw the impatience on his face. He was itching to fight with her lately, she noticed. He was picking every little thing to bicker about, but... sometimes it was cute, but now it was just annoying.

"That's it! That's what's wrong with it. Can't a guy just eat regular food from regular places without any special names I can't pronounce or... quantities that look like it wouldn't even properly feed an infant..." He knew he didn't sound like he knew what he was talking about or even trying to argue. He hadn't gotten much physical fighting in for a while and it was starting to take a toll on his marriage; not a bad one, per se, but just... an unpleasant one.

"When you're done with the futomaki, you'll be full. Stop being a wise-ass," Sam rolled her eyes, popping one of the offending pieces into her mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, she glared softly at him.

"I'm not being a wise-ass, I just want to know why you want me to try this so much," he argued lamely. He was losing. He knew it.

"Because! I just want to have more foods in common with you, and if you don't try anything every once in a while, how is that going to change? We can't eat pizza for the rest of our lives!" she pouted again, knowing it was a weak point of his; the strangest things turned him on.

"I eat salad, too!" he protested, averting his eyes from those lips of hers.

"Pizza and salads, that's rich. Remind me to thank you when our children have nutrient deficiencies. Balance is necessary!"

"Now who's jumping the gun?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the sudden topic shift. How was she arguing her point by bringing in another variable?

"Don't change the subject." Her eyes moved away from his, and he was definitely curious by the lack of eye-contact.

"What?"

"Oh, you know what. You're just trying to complain your way out of trying this. Would you rather raw fish or vegetables? Pick the lesser of two evils, Danny!"

"Vegetables," he responded like it was the easiest question in the world to answer. The word died on his lips with a nasty edge.

"Well, then..." she trailed off, giving him a defeated look. "If you don't want to try it, I won't force you to. Though, it would mean a lot to me if you did," she said, passively, as she crossed her legs. Her eyes were elsewhere, yet again.

Seeing the morose look on her face, he frowned at the fact that he put it there. "Alright, alright. I'll try a piece. If I like it, I'll finish it. If not, you can't yell at me and say I didn't try it properly enough, alright?"

"That's all I ask," she smirked at him, clearly smug that she won their small argument. Mrs. Fenton, however, tried to keep her win under control, keeping her smirk to a minimum in order for him to actually try the offending piece of sushi.

Taking the chopsticks, he fumbled with them for a bit before holding them out to Sam with a huff, a voiceless help request posed to her.

Sam took them with a smile, positioning them in her own hand before picking up a piece of the sushi, dipping it quickly into the soy sauce, and lifting it up to Danny's mouth. He opened his mouth and allowed the piece of sushi in; he chewed, tasting, hoping that he wouldn't let her down. He was... surprised. It wasn't horrible. It wasn't offensive, nor was it actually raw. It was just vegetables wrapped up with rice and seaweed. Alright, then.

"You win, Manson."

"Fenton," she corrected.

A pause.

"So, uh," he picked another piece up with his hand instead of bothering with chopsticks, "why are you worried about future children's dietary habits?"

She ate a piece of the futomaki that remained on her plate, trying to remain passive while doing so; it wasn't an easy task. She could only pull it off without making eye contact.

"That's another conversation entirely that I want you to have an empty stomach for."