A/N: I know it's been…a while…I would say I was having writers' block, but that's only somewhat true. For the most part, I was just being lazy…No sympathy there, though…

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly. Interesting stuff, huh?

It was February. February 13th to be exact. Less than a month before I'd be back.

"Freddie! It's time for your tick bath!" Freddie's mother's shrill voice called from their bathroom.

"Come on, Freddie, you can do this." I urged him.

He stood uncertainly in the doorway of his room. "I'm not sure about this, Sam."

"You can do it, Freddie. I know you can."

He took a deep breath and began to yell to his mother. "Mom! I'm not getting a tick bath!"

"Why not? Are you allergic? Do you have hives? A rash? I'll get the ointment!"

"No mom! I'm sick of taking tick baths when we don't even live near the woods! No person in their right mind who lives in the city would ever take a tick bath!"

"Fredward! You know as well as I do that you need those baths! You walk by the park every day!" she hesitated slightly before continuing. "Now, be a good little Freddie and come take your bath. You're starting to sound like that girl. I thought once she was gone, you wouldn't have such a bad influence."

My eye started twitching, and I positioned myself in a battle stance. "Move over Freddie! I'm gonna kill her!"

"Sam! Don't!" he whispered at me grabbing my arm as I started to run. "Come on, you know she's just scared for my 'safety'."

"Fine. But, you are going to take a stand. Right now," I declared, pushing him through the door toward his mother. "You can do this." I hope…

"Mom! We need to talk!" he stated firmly.

"Freddie! The water's getting cold! Now, come take your bath, and we'll talk later." Mrs. B. ushered him to the bathroom holding a fuzzy purple towel and a bottle of lotion. For sensitive skin.

"NO! I won't take a tick bath because I don't need a tick bath!" Freddie stomped his foot on the floor like a toddler throwing a tantrum. But, it did make his mother finally stop and consider his words. She looked at him inquisitively. So, I nudged him to go on. "Mom, I am going to the kitchen table. I would like to talk. And, I hope you will listen." With that he exited the hallway and proceeded toward the kitchen.

I never noticed how different his apartment is from Carly's. They actually have a kitchen room. And a hallway. And only one floor. Huh… I kind of liked it, though.

Freddie eyed his mother from across the table as she slowly took a seat. "Mom, I am fifteen years old. I'm not a little kid, anymore. In fact, I haven't been a little kid for ten years." He somehow managed to say all of this without any uncertainty in his voice. Though, I could tell he was worried on the inside. "So, I'm hoping that you will understand that I don't want to be treated like a naïve toddler who needs protection from every ailment. Including the nonexistent ones. I mean, cloud block? Seriously?"

"But…What if you get a cloud burn?" Mrs. Benson looked like she was about to break out in tears.

"Mom…There's no such thing as a cloud burn. You should know that."

"No, you're wrong. You do still need protection from everything. What if you get limes disease from the ticks? Or, skin cancer from the cloud burns. Or, rabies? Or, pneumonia? Or, tetanus? Or…Or, mad cow!?" She was clearly running out of diseases. But I'm sure if she wasn't hyperventilating, the list would keep going for hours.

"Mom! Calm down! I promise I'll be careful! I'll always get my shots. I'll wear sun block. I'll stay away from rust and raccoons and tall grass" he sighed exasperatedly. "And, tainted meats…"

"I…I don't want to talk about this anymore…But…I guess you're right…"

"So, no more tick baths? No more cloud block?" He looked t her hopefully. "And, no more tracking chips in my head?" She glanced up at him, surprised. "Yeah, I know about that."

She stared on sheepishly. "I guess. Just…be careful."

He nodded and looked at me for the first time since the beginning of their conversation. I was doing an extremely embarrassing victory dance. Of course.

A/N: Well…It wasn't my best…Hey, I'm out of practice. Anyway, R & R (I need ideas!). Au revoir, SheriffBoB.