"I'm so bored," Carly complained, flipping through the channels on the TV. "Are you making any new sculptures?" she asked me.

I nodded as I gathered supplies from the kitchen. "It's a--" I pulled out the notecard I was given, "--recipe pirate. It's supposed to have an eyepatch and stuff."

"Who's it for?"

"That new deli on the corner."

"Arrg Meaty's?"

"Yup."

"Want any help?"

I looked from my little sister to the boxes of plastic utensils in my arms. "Only if you promise not to stab me with a spork."

She laughed. "Aw, come on, Spence. It's no fun if I can't poke you with plastic silverware."

I smiled. "You didn't come over here to help me build sculptures, Carls. You came to revisit Seattle, remember?"

"Oh come on. I've been away for, what, eight months? Besides, I want my spring break to be a chance for me to hang out with my big brother."

"Good enough excuse. Here, help me carry this stuff upstairs."

She grinned and took a box.

"How's college life treating you, Carls?" I asked as we walked up the stairs to the third floor.

Carly shrugged a little. "Eh, it's okay, I guess. Basically like high school, only with more beer and bigger classes."

"Those were the days." I sighed.

"Hey, aren't we traveling down my memory lane?"

"Maybe. Let me reminisce, woman!"

"Hup up up," she said, threatening me with a plastic knife. Dang it, I thought I had given her a box of spoons.

"Fiiiine. Let me reminisce, Carly."

She smiled. "Much better. I already put up with all that demeaning crap in California."

"What'cha mean?"

"You know. Guys and their, uh, places they can't control. All they think girls are good for are sleeping with."

I nodded. "I can beat any of them up, if you like."

"It's cool, I've already got a bodyguard."

"Who?"

She blushed, and I tried to look stern. "Carly Michelle Shay, do you have a boyfriend?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

I grinned at her. "Don't grow up too fast on me now, kiddo."

She grinned back. "I promise."

I handed her a few boxes of "supplies" to free up an arm to reach up to the top of the door frame of the old iCarly studio, looking for the spare key. I hadn't really had much of a use for the room--aside from making a few sculptures in there--since the kids went off to college, so I kept it locked most of the time

I opened the door and let Carly in first. She looked around, a small smile on her face. "Man," she said. "Memories." I let her look around for a bit as I set up my clay and utensils on a plastic table I had set up a few months ago for my sculptures. I tried to keep my mind on the Recipe Pirate, but couldn't. Just having Carly in the iCarly studio like back in the day...it was like she was a kid again. All we needed was Sam eating some pork and Freddie toying around with something technical, and it was a perfect flashback to a few years ago. I smiled to myself. Those were definitely the days.

Suddenly Carly's phone bagan to ring, startling us both out of our daydreams. "Hello?" she said. Out of the back pocket of my jeans I pulled out a drawing of what the customers wanted the Pirate to look like.

"Are you really?" Carly squealed into the phone. "Oh my God! Hurry!"

I picked up a blob of bright blue clay, the same color as the Recipe Pirate.

"Okay, okay, okay. I know. I just miss you a whole lot."

I sat the blob on the table and stared at it, waiting for the creative juices to start flowing.

"I know! Alright, see you soon!" Carly hung up.

"Who was that?" I asked, still staring at the clay.

"Freddie!" she exclaimed. "He's coming over!"

"Sweet! Do you want me to make food?"

"Yeah, sure. Make enough for--" she counted on her fingers--"four people. Freddie said he's bringing someone else over to say hi."

"Who?"

Carly shrugged. "Beats me."

"You think it's a girl?"

She shrugged again. "He said 'she' a couple of times, but didn't say who."

"I thought Freddie sucked at surprises."

"Well, it has been a while since we saw him."

"You think he's suddenly become better at surprises since then?"

"It's a possibility. Now, when does the deli want the pirate?"

"Tomorrow."

"Ugh. Same old Spencer."

---

We sculpted for a little while, talking and catching up. She told me about her roommates, classmates, teachers, her "bodyguard," and the time that a coffee cart caught on fire randomly and she thought of me.

"You know, it's been a while since anything around me spontaneously combusted," I told her, attaching my pirates eyepatch to his orphan-blue face.

"Maybe it's because I was the one who caused it all to. I attached matches to everything."

"You, mean!"

"Me, kidding!"

"You, not nice!"

"Can we stop talking like that?"

"Yeah, sure thing, kiddo."

"So what have you been doing while I was away, Spence?" Carly asked as she crisscrossed clay to create a plaid effect.

"Working on my killer tan," I replied, matter-of-factly.

She looked over at my bare arm. "Sike."

We laughed, and the doorbell rang. I never really figured out how we could hear the bell all the way from the third floor. "I'll go get that," Carly said eagerly, wiping her hands off with a rag.

She ran down the stairs, and I continued sculpting. I could hear muffled yelps of happiness and I knew Carly was suffocating Freddie with hugs. Whistling, I wiped my clay covered hands on my jeans and skipped to the elevator. Yes, I skipped. The wind went through my hair and everything.

While I stood in the elevator, I thought about things. You know, how Freddie was, how Sam was doing. I also thought about making some kind of rig to play elevator music so that the five minutes it took to go from the third floor to the first floor didn't seem so monotonous.

The doors opened, and I stepped out into a total reunion. You would've guessed it had been three and a half years since they last saw each other.

"Spencer!" Freddie called out from across the room. He ran over and we did that funny handshake-into-a-hug thing that guys do, and Carly kept smiling and smiling. It made my cheeks hurt, but I was so happy so see her so happy.

That was when I saw her. I knew it was Sam, but at the same time--it wasn't. She was on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, but she didn't seem so boyish. I mean, the way she sat was more graceful, like her limbs didn't feel so awkward. When she turned around to look at me, I had to keep my mouth from hitting the floor. Her hair was still long, but it was pulled up into a ponytail, away from her face. And was that--make up? Blush maybe? Eyeliner? Snap, dude. Can girls change that much in eight months? Sam smiled, and it reached all the way up to her eyes, like it filled her up.

Damn, I'm poetic.

I guess I didn't say anything, because the next thing I know, Carly is stabbing me in the ribs with her index finger. "Wake up, Spence!"

I snapped out of it, shaking my head violently and blinking a couple of times. "Morning!"

The three kids laughed, and Sam got up from the couch. " 'Sup, Shay?" she asked, coming over to where Freddie, Carly, and I were, over by the kitchen counter.

"I should be asking you that, Sam," I said, eyeing her.

She blushed. Wait, she what? "You don't like?"

"I don't like what?"

Before I could answer, Carly suddenly yelled, "Guys!"

"What?" everyone else, and me, yelled back, startled.

"You've got to see Spencer's wicked awesome new sculpture!" And with that she took Freddie and Sam by the wrist and literally threw them into the elevator. I thought it was hilarious, mostly because Sam's got some muscle, Freddie's like six feet tall, and Carly is still so petite. "Third floor! Be right up!" she told them as the door closed.

"Be careful," she warned, as soon as she was sure her friends were out of earshot.

I gave her a bewildered look. I think I did, anyway, if "bewildered" means confused to a high degree. Whatever, I wasn't ever really all that great at English anyway.

Carly ignores my look. "Spence, I saw that look you gave to Sam. Please don't do anything to her, and I'm not saying that for her sake. She'll beat the snot out of you. Remember Jonah?"

I tried to.

"Well, she wedgie bounced him on the Internet! I hear clips are still circulating and he hasn't lived it down."

I frowned. "So you want me to date her?"

"Guh! No! I'm saying that if you try to do anything and break her heart, you'll never live it down. Sam's got some power."

I frowned again. "So you don't want me to date her?"

Carly narrowed her eyes at me and punched my arm all sisterly. "Do whatever you want. Just don't knock her up or hurt her. Got it?"

I still frowned. "It's Sam, for the love of the color wheel."

She crossed her arms. "Exactly. And I saw how you looked at her," she repeated. "Anyway, I gotta go upstairs before they think I left them alone to die. You coming?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm good. Don't break anything."

"Don't set anything on fire," she called out, jogging up the stairs.

I placed my butt into one of the stools at the kitchen counter and thought some more. That was the third time, I think. Aw, dang. Still more thinking.

Anyway, I was trying to figure out what exactly Carly said. I mean, I knew whatshe said; I was trying to figure out what exactly she was attempting to shove into my brain. The thought (arg!) of dating my little sister's best friend of, like, ten years was definitely a little weird, but, well, Sam's nineteen, so legally it's okay, right? Right?

I guess I must have dozed off from thinking so much, because, the next thing I know, I wake up with a puddle of drool on the counter top under my cheek.

Gross.

The "Recipe Pirate" is totally stolen from the most awesome cartoon ever, Chowder.

Carly's "guh!" and "wicked awesome" and Spencer's "snap, dude" are jacked from my everyday dialogue.

Anyway...fluffy Spam. More to come. (: