Fly Away And Leave Me Behind

*Am I procrastinating my grade deciding essay? Yes. Yes I am.*

This oneshot takes place during iDo.

Freddie didn't want to go on this trip.

At first, he'd been looking forward to it a little, ecstatic that his mom was going to let him go without her paranoid supervision this time. Which meant less chances for disaster/embarrassment like their misadventures in Japan.

But what he was really looking forward to the least was the airport. He would have loved to say it would be an organized, speedy affair. Except that he knew better. Nothing was ever organized or speedy when it came to the iCarly gang. More often than not it was disorganized, crazy, and dangerous instead. Today would be no exception, he knew it in his gut.

Although, somehow, that was half the reason he wanted to go. The unexpected and the insanity was what made living across the hall from the Shays worthwhile. Even if he had to fly to freaking Wisconsin with them. So it was that he found himself dragging his suitcase into 8-C, pushing the door open with his shoulders.

He didn't expect anyone to be even mildly ready to go, and lo and behold, he was right. As usual. Spencer was trying to jam what looked to be a large penguin into a very small suitcase, an intently serious look on his face as he muttered something along the lines of, "It fit last time!" Carly was seated at the computer, glaring at the screen and a picture of a blue and purple dress displayed on it. And Sam? Sam was facedown on the couch, face pressed into one of the pillows in a wonderful impression of a dead body. Freddie groaned.

"Guys, the flight leaves in two hours!" he yelled, hoping that he might somehow spur them into action. Of course, to little avail. Spencer just continued to abuse the penguin into fitting into his suitcase, and Carly simply gave him a look that clearly said, "You are of little importance right now." Lovely. He turned his attention to Sam instead, kicking her hand that was dangling off the edge of the couch, "Puckett, you packed yet?"

"Nnnngghhh," Sam mumbled into the pillow, earning an amused look from Freddie, though she couldn't see it. "Course I'm packed. Fatcakes and all, what do you take me for?"

Freddie rolled his eyes, "Well at least someone's prepared." He looked up, noticing with semi-amazement that Spencer was now zipping up his suitcase, the penguin apparently successfully mashed inside.

"I'm prepared," Carly said from her seat in front of the computer, "For everything except this atrocious dress! Gah! Look at this thing!" She gestured madly at the screen, "I mean, why would anyone in their right minds think that looks appealing?"

"People in Wisconsin are obviously all around nut-balls," Sam muttered, "Let's just not go. There, good, we're done." She rolled over onto her back and crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm going back to sleep now."

Carly spun around in her chair, putting her hands on her knees with a raised eyebrow, "Uh-huh. Freddie, get her up." She jumped to her feet, moving around the counter to grab Spencer by the arm and he in turn snagging his overstuffed bag with a very unmanly whine. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Carly stomped past and out the door without another word, ad Freddie couldn't help but shudder. This wedding was already turning into a total disaster, and it was only Friday. He dreaded what was to come with Carly already starting the experience with an attitude like that. Not that he was much looking forward to it either.

Turning his attentions back to Sam he crouched down beside the sofa, staring at her for a moment, her eyes closed and her arms folded over her chest. "You gonna get up? Or am I going to have to make you," he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"As if you could," Sam snorted softly, opening an eye to peer at him warily. Freddie grinned, clenching his fingers against the knees of his jeans so that his muscles would flex just so, watching as she blinked in mild surprise and sat up, apparently not wanting to go through the manhandle to test that theory just yet. "Fine, let's go, Fredork. Time is a wastin'."

"I was the one who was ready to go on time," Freddie said under his breath.

Freddie really didn't want to go on this trip.

And as they piled in the car and Spencer floored the gas pedal, he couldn't help but note that he wasn't the only uneasy one. Sam sat on the other side of Carly in the back of the car (Carly having claimed official middle spot between them years ago, to stop any and all fighting that could make Spencer crash the car), her head rested against the glass of the window and she kept her gaze on Bushwell Plaza for as long as possible until it disappeared around the corner, and she closed her eyes with an almost inaudible sigh. He raised an eyebrow in her direction, but she took no notice, fixing her gaze out the window once again with a frown.

Deciding to file what he had seen into the mental folder labeled "Sam is weird," Freddie went back to sorting the songs on his Pear Pod, taking no more notice of the blond until she suddenly launched herself into the front seat, diving between Spencer's legs and putting her hand on the brakes so hard Carly screamed in terror and the car nearly skidded into the front of the Groovy Smoothie. Freddie sat bolt upright, grabbing on to the seat in front of him just before his seatbelt whip lashed him back, making him wince, the motion repeated as Carly continued to scream.

"We're alive," Sam said calmly, poking her head up from the front seat and staring at them until Carly's wailing died down to a bemused squeak, disbelief at her friend's statement clear on her face. Freddie merely rolled his eyes, and Spencer garbled incoherently from the driver's seat. Sam shrugged and climbed out of the vehicle, dashing into the Groovy Smoothie without another word, leaving them to their own devices.

After a moment of consideration, Freddie leaned over into the front just to make sure Spencer was still fairly alive, flicking him on the nose a few times to snap him out of it, before he turned to check on Carly.

Carly, thank god, was much calmer than he expected her to be considering the minute long scream she'd issued only moments before. She had turned to watch Sam through the large front window of the store, arms folded over her chest and her eyes narrowed. "We're going to miss our flight," she said shortly.

"Yay," Freddie whispered, mostly to himself. Although Carly punching him in the arm told him he needed to work on his whispering.

Sam returned a few minutes later, and Freddie couldn't help but groan when he saw what she was carrying.

"What is that?" he asked, ignoring Carly's cry of dismay at the sight of it.

The blond blinked, watching as he gestured to the cup that was almost as big as her she was holding in her lap, "A Strawberry Splat Smoothie."

"What size is it?" Freddie questioned, specifying his request.

"Ummm . . . 128 ounces," Sam said, tilting the cup so that she could read the bold lettering under the Groovy Smoothie logo. She looked up to see the trio of exasperated eyes directed at her, "What? I was really thirsty, okay?" Sticking the straw in her mouth pointedly, she turned towards the window again.

Carly sighed, "Let's just get to the airport before anything else disastrous is caused by the passengers and/or the driver."

Spencer nodded solemnly and began to drive again, keeping one eye on Sam to make sure there were no more repeat offenses with the brake peddle.

Freddie really, really didn't want to go on this trip. Special emphasis on the "really" times a thousand.

This feeling only intensified when they tried to get through security at the airport. As it was the affair was quite a hassle; take off your shoes, empty your pockets, remove your belt, walk through the scanner and wonder if the thing could see down to your bones, replace all articles of removed clothing back on your person. Done.

At least, that's how it should have gone. As it was they got held up when Spencer couldn't successfully pass through the metal detector and the guards couldn't figure out why for the life of them. It wasn't until Freddie suggested that Spencer might be wearing some light up socks that could possibly have metal wiring in them that they solved that issue.

And then there was Sam. Sometimes Freddie wished they could leave her behind, if only to avoid the disasters that tended to occur in her presence. But whenever he thought seriously about the idea, he would realize how totally boring his life would be if they did. So he put up with Sam. At least, on most instances.

Today she refused to throw out her smoothie before passing through security, even after Carly pointed out the sign that clearly said "NO LIQUIDS" in giant bold, bright red letters. Freddie had no choice but to simply put his head in his hands and groan when Sam ignored her, walking straight through the detectors. Obviously, with her 128 ounce smoothie a guard stopped her right away, requesting that "the little lady should throw out her drink."

Mistake number one - Calling Sam a "little lady."

Sam simply stared at him for a long moment and Freddie covered his eyes with his hands, not even daring to peek through his fingers to see the massacre that was about to unfold. The sounds were enough of an answer.

Later, Carly would inform him that Sam had kicked the guy in the shins, resulting in the man falling and the other guards in the vicinity thinking that some sort of terrorist attack was going down. Sam was apparently ruthless with them too, if the noise of very unmanly squealing was anything to go by, and by the time Freddie opened his eyes it had taken a total of three burly security guards to wrestle Sam to the ground, the smoothie surprisingly still unharmed in it's giant cup.

So it was that fifteen minutes later they were all seated in a "holding room" with three very pissed off, mildly bruised guards watching them like hawks. Sam didn't seem to mind at all, her hair a little mussed as she slurped her smoothie down as though nothing had happened. Freddie had placed himself between her and Carly, keeping the peace because he could tell that from the look on Carly's face she was not in the mood for this. At all. From the room he could clearly hear the departure warnings not too far away, echoing from unseen speakers through the closed door. Flight 239 leaving for Wisconsin last boarding call and everything. He sighed and folded his arms on the table they were seated around, his chin falling to his knuckles.

At least now maybe they wouldn't have to go to the stupid wedding. He'd thank Sam for that later.

Exactly ten minutes after the announcement of their flight leaving, Sam promptly stood up and threw the Styrofoam cup, and surprisingly, the remainder of the smoothie into the garbage can in the corner. Carly blinked at the action, and Freddie raised an eyebrow, surprised Sam would willingly throw away food sustenance of any kind. The guard waved them out a moment later, and that was that.

"Can you get us more tickets?" Carly whispered as they were hustled out of the room, Spencer hanging back with solemnly as one guard gave him a verbal warning. "We did promise to be at this wedding," she reminded with a glance over her shoulder at Sam, whose hands were in the pockets of her jacket, practically skipping as she followed.

Freddie snorted, holding out a hand as Carly handed them their now useless tickets, "I'll see what I can do."

With a bit of negotiating, and a dip into the iCarly savings, he was able to get the a flight leaving in another hour and a half, as luck would have it. Or bad luck, depending on who was viewing the situation. Spencer practically dragged them to the gate and sat them down in the flimsy chairs to wait, looking more than a little peeved at the situation in general. If Freddie hadn't known better he might have thought the older Shay sibling was going to stand over them and breath down their necks until they got on the plane. But less than a half hour later, he became distracted by a lovely French girl a few yards away.

"Boarding call, seats A-1 through D-6. Boarding call, seats A-1 through D-6."

Carly rolled her shoulders and picked up her carryon bag with a huff, glancing at her brother, "Right, I'll go get goober number one, and we're off."

Freddie nodded, picking at the tag on his backpack absently. Knowing Spencer, this could take a few minutes. No rush. He looked over at the red backpack leaning against his leg, following the lines of it up to the girl sitting on his other side.

Sam stared at the freckled blue and gray carpet beneath her feet for a long moment before glancing up towards the broad windows stretching around the terminal, the glass vibrating ever so slightly with the rumble of the planes just outside it. She inhaled, and Freddie copied the movement at the conflicted look that suddenly crossed her face, instantly tensing.

He wasn't surprised when Sam leapt to her feet, her finger brushing his thigh as she snatched her backpack from the ground and flung it over a shoulder, dashing in the opposite direction from the terminal before he could make a sound. He breathed out, "Sam!"

Carly turned her attention away from her brother's flirtatious actions with a groan, watching as Sam disappeared into the crowd around one of the moving sidewalks, Freddie close behind. "We are never getting out of here," she muttered, slumping in defeat.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Sam wasn't afraid of flying, that wasn't it at all. She had flown to Japan and jumped out of a moving plane just fine. Then again, that was a different sort of deal all together. Cargo planes weren't the same. There was no airport, no windows to watch planes leaving from, no sickening clean airport smell, no long endless tunnels to walk before reaching your plane, no seats near windows to see the places you were leaving behind.

She wasn't afraid of flying.

Sam could remember her father's hands with perfect clarity. The lines across his palms, deep and well worn as with anyone who had ever worked a hard day or more. The pads of his fingers were rough and calloused, but gentle when he picked up his daughters, giggle inducing when he dug them into their ribs and tickled them until they couldn't breath.

They had felt no different the last time she had held them. Her father had stood over her as they walked to the gate, sunlight that was far too bright reflecting through the windows around the terminal waiting area. His grip around her hand on his right side tightened as he stopped before the door.

She could not recall her father's face, it was nothing more than a blurry shape in her mind, faded with time. He crouched down in front of her and Melanie, their hands still clutched in his, one child for each. "You take care of your mother for me girls, okay?"

"Okay," Melanie agreed readily, smiling, oblivious to the lies. It's just a business trip, they said. Sam knew better.

It was hard to miss the utter hatred in her mother's eyes from where she stood not far behind them, arms crossed and foot tapping. Waiting until she could move on with her life and forget all that had happened. Pam Puckett was like a speeding train, never stopping anywhere for more than a moment, and on her daughters' father she'd already lingered far too long. Sam knew that the moment she'd woken up that morning to see the suitcases by the door.

"Samantha?" her father tilted his head, trying to get her to meet his eyes.

She looked away, "Liar," she whispered, reaching out with her free hand to grasp her sister's, squeezing it tight in shaking fingers.

"Saman-" he started again.

"Liar!" Melanie started beside her, but Sam ignored the movement. "You're not coming back! You're a liar!"

"Sam-"

"No!" she jerked away from him, taking Melanie with her, tears starting to form in her sister's eyes. "Y-you said we were your girls! Why are you leaving?" Sam sobbed, rubbing a hand over her eyes to keep the tears at bay, to little avail.

Before she could move strong arms had scooped both her and her twin up, tucking her against broad shoulders. "You're a very smart girl, Samantha," her father murmured near her ear. "But there are times when there are no answers to give." She hiccupped, shaking her head and fisting a hand into his jacket, the other still wrapped around her sister's. "You will always be my girls, Samantha, Melanie. I promise you."

Sam sobbed, tears openly spilling from her blue eyes. Her father made a gentle shushing sound, hugging them tighter to him.

"All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go.

I'm standing here outside your door.

I hate to wake you up to say goodbye.

But the dawn is breaking it's early morn',

The taxi's waiting, he's blowing his horn.

Already I'm so lonesome I could die.

So kiss me and smile for me,

Tell me that you'll wait for me,

Hold me like you'll never let me go.

Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane,

Don't know when I'll be back again.

Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane,

Don't know when I'll be back again.

Oh Babe, I hate to go . . ."

The twins had watched, hand in hand, faces pressed against the cool glass of the far too large windows in the terminal as the plane took off. The pane was fogged and streaked with tears and fingerprints by the time the roar of the engine faded away into the sky.

"He's not coming back," Melanie said bluntly, emotionlessly.

"No," Sam murmured. "He's not." She swallowed, slumping to her knees on the floor. Melanie followed soundlessly, raising a hand to wipe away her sister's tears without a word. Back then, she was the stronger one, and the action was repeated until their were no more tears to cry and their mother dragged them into the car and back to the house.

The suitcases never returned, and neither did their father. A face wiped from memory, the pictures remaining burned over a candle late that night.

Sam was seven when Melanie was accepted into a private academy for the gifted minds. It was an all grade private school, and their mother was more than thrilled to let her go. It was free with the scholarship she was provided with, and for Pam, that was one less mouth to feed and body to clothe.

They had not stood in an airport since their father had left three years before, a memory Sam could already barely recall, though the twinge of grief was ever present when she tried.

This time Pam did not accompany them to the terminal, distracted by a muscular guard working the metal detectors. Sam curled her fingers into the edge of her sister's shirt, staring at the pink fabric through blurred vision. "You could stay," she pleaded. "I-it's just some dumb private school, you're just as smart here."

Melanie smiled, prying Sam's fingers away from her shirt and shaking her head, "I can't. I need this, I want to do something amazing with my life, Samantha."

"You think I don't too?" Sam asked, voice breaking.

"You're meant to be here," Melanie replied slowly, "I know it. You'll meet some amazing people, and do some amazing things with your life. Here, in Seattle."

"But," Sam raised her eyes to meet identical ones, "W-we were born together . . . We're supposed to . . ." She bit her lip, clutching her twin's hands between her own as though her life depended on it, "We're supposed to stay together! I . . . I can't! I can't be on my own Melanie! I-"

"You can," Melanie drew her hands away, almost snapping them from Sam's vice-like grip. "You have to be the strong one now Samantha, I know you can."

"Please," Sam begged, reaching for her again. Melanie shook her head, stepping back.

"Close your eyes," she told her sister, voice cracking.

Sam did, shuddering. For a moment Melanie's hand covered her eyelids and Sam held herself utterly still, breath caught around the lump in her throat, unable to swallow past it.

"Then close your eyes, and I'll be on my way . . ." she whispered

When Sam opened her eyes a heartbeat later, she was already gone.

A month later she would push a girl to the ground, taking her tuna sandwich before getting it snatched away from her. In the thirty days since her sister had left, no one had stood up to her violent out lashes. No one except the small, unexpectedly tough minded girl with dark hair and brown eyes.

"I'm Carly," she'd smiled, as if making a truce, though she'd already said her name earlier in their encounter.

"Sam," Sam supplied for a second time.

"Is that short for Samantha?" Carly had asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Don't call me that," Sam protested, and Carly only nodded. Sam was stronger, tougher. Samantha was a girly name, for someone who was too scared to let their sister and best friend fly away and leave them behind. Sam didn't cry.

Freddie lost Sam in the crowd after only a few moments, frustration welling in him as he failed to catch sight of her. Closing his eyes he breathed, calming himself. He knew this situation, he knew Sam. There were only a handful of places she could possibly run to. Exhaling he cast his gaze over the heads and around the passerby, zeroing in on a door with a sign over it labeled Books. Quiet, with small unoccupied corners. Perfect.

He found her crouched amongst the children's coloring books on the far side of the shop, knees tucked up against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs, face buried in the pocket created between thighs and shoulders. Slowly he sat down beside her, shoulder to shoulder. She shivered and glanced up at him without a sound, staring at him in obvious disbelief before she spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, not answering verbally. He had no real reason that he could explain out loud. Except that maybe, just maybe, he'd been scared she was going to leave forever when she ran, and so he'd instinctively followed. But that would have sounded pretty stupid if said out loud, if he said so himself.

She blinked slowly, raising an eyebrow before shaking her head, scootching away from him. To her utter surprise he simply followed, shoulder to shoulder again, and there really was no where left to go.

Somehow, Melanie's hands were still the same size, the same shape, possessing the same lifelines Sam's did no matter how long she was away. Carly had gone with them to the airport, wandering off a few minutes before to get some latte's via Melanie's request.

Sam was lying when she said she hadn't wanted to see her sister, she hardly ever got to see her at all. Melanie was half of who she was, the girly side she kept hidden and the reason she was who she was now at all. She rested her head on her twin's shoulder and simply breathed, closing her eyes to the wide windows and her ears to the foreboding rumble of the planes departing.

"That Freddie boy," Melanie began, drumming her fingers against the back of Sam's hand from where they were intertwined, "I think he likes you, you know."

Sam blinked, startled and she sat up straighter, frowning at the notion. "What makes you say something idiotic like that?"

Melanie laughed, the sound light and tinkling compared to Sam's. it only reminded her how far apart they'd grown. "Why else would he have gone to such lengths to try and prove we were the same person?" She smirked, and Sam snorted. "When I kissed him, you know, he said 'We promised to never do that again,' Sam. What did he mean by that?"

The other glanced over her shoulder, checking to see if Carly was anywhere nearby. "Nothing. It meant nothing," she mumbled.

"You kissed him," Melanie pestered. Sam blushed and kept her gaze elsewhere. Melanie gasped dramatically and her sister couldn't help but roll her eyes, "You like him!" she exclaimed, jumping up and clapping ecstatically at this revelation.

Sam glared, pulling her back down, "Mels, don't," she hissed threateningly. "I don't like him okay? And besides, even if I did, he'd never like me back."

Melanie frowned, "Why do you say that?"

"He likes Carly," Sam muttered, rolling her eyes again, "Correction, 'loves' her. Has ever since I've known him. That's not going to change because of some stupid little kiss."

"But does Carly love him back," it wasn't really a question, and Sam shook her head. "Then why are you so sure he'll never like you?"

Sam closed her eyes and sighed, "Okay, say for some idiotic reason that I actually wanted him too. I . . . I'm scared that one day, one day soon, Carly is gonna realize what she's missing and it'll be all over. There's no point in trying," she pointed an accusing finger at her sister, "even if I did like him. Which I don't."

"You love him," Melanie whispered, and Sam simply raised her eyes to look at her. "Sam . . ." She wrapped her hand around her twin's again, "He held my hand like this, you know," she murmured, "The whole time thinking I was you." She squeezed, "Someday, I think he'll hold your hand like this too."

Sam closed her eyes, letting her head fall to Freddie's shoulder with a sigh. "I can't . . . I can't be in airports like this for too long," she admitted softly. "They remind me too much of my dad leaving. Of Melanie."

Freddie simply nodded. He'd heard about Sam's father before, on a thanksgiving they'd spent together almost a year before, the reason she hadn't gone with Carly to Yakima suddenly making more sense. "They remind me of my dad too," he whispered. "I don't remember it much, I was only a few years old. But I remember the sound of the planes."

"I'm scared of getting on a plane like that," Sam swallowed. "I'm scared of seeing Carly get on a plane like that. I don't want her to leave me too." Except she knew that future wasn't far ahead. "She will one day, you know," she murmured before Freddie could protest. "She'll be famous some day, and she'll fly away and that will be that. What am I supposed to do then, huh? I'm not cut out for life in the spotlight like she is. I enjoy doing the webshow and all, but I can't be anything more than that. It's too much work." Freddie chuckled and she smiled slightly, "And when she leaves, so will Spencer. Where can I go then?" When her mom got to be too much, when she missed her sister, when things just got too be too much to take?

"You could come to me," Freddie answered without hesitation. Sam's eyes snapped open. "I'll still be here."

"You're not going to follow Carly?" she asked, surprised. She'd always just assumed he would. Be her camera man maybe.

"No," Freddie said softly. "I like it just fine here in Seattle. Plus, how could I leave you here alone to your own devices. There'd be mass murder."

"Hey, I'm not that violent," Sam smirked.

"To anyone but me," Freddie sighed sarcastically. "Now come on, we're going to miss our flight. Again."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"I can't do this," Sam hissed, gripping the armrests of her seat. She was in the middle, Freddie taking up the seat between her and the ominous window, Carly and Spencer behind them in the next row. Her nails dug into the space between fabric and plastic and she closed her eyes, chest heaving as she fought for breath. If Freddie hadn't already practically tied her down with her seatbelt, she would have bolted minutes ago.

"Yes you can," Freddie whispered, glancing through the gap between their seats to where Carly was, knowing Sam didn't want her to know she was freaking out. But Carly had her Pear Pod out and was shuffling through her sings, he head bobbing along to music Freddie couldn't hear. He turned his attention back to the blond, frowning, "Hey, hey, look at me Sam. It's going to be okay."

Sam shook her head, keeping her eyes closed, "No, no it's not. I can't . . ." She inhaled sharply as she felt Freddie's hand touch hers, snapping her gaze to him instantly.

"There, look at me," he insisted softly. "It's going to be okay. Trust me." He curled his fingers around hers, "You said you're scared of people leaving you behind, right? Well this time, we're all still here with you." He held up his free hand, "And I know one day it won't be like that. I do, I really do." Freddie cast his eyes through the gap between the seats again, biting his lip, "But . . . Even so . . . I'll still be here, okay?"

"And what if I leave too," Sam whispered.

Freddie cocked his head, as though thinking about the possibility, "Would you really want that?" He tightened his grip on her hand, turning his gaze to the window while he waited for an answer. The plane was starting to move, and Sam shuddered as it rumbled under her feet.

"No," she said honestly. "But you can't possibly promise me you'll never leave. No one can promise that and not be lying." Like her dad. Like Melanie.

He smiled slightly, "True. But I could always take you with me, couldn't I?" he hummed slightly at the thought, not noticing the way her breath caught in her throat, though he tangled his fingers with hers and squeezed as the plane began it's race down the runway.

"Dream about the days to come,

when I won't have to leave alone.

About the times I won't have to say

Oh kiss me and smile for me

Tell me that you'll wait for me

Hold me like you'll never let me go.

Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane,

Don't know when I'll be back again

Oh babe I hate to go."

Freddie grinned, catching Sam's stunned eyes on him, "Do you know that song?" he asked. "It's pretty, isn't it? It's one of my favorites."

Sam nodded, swallowing, "Yeah, I like it too." She looked down at their hands, closing her eyes as the plane started to tilt towards the sky. "Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane," her voice didn't rise above a mere whisper, "Don't know when I'll be back again."

"Oh babe I hate to go," Freddie finished smiling. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?" "The plane's off the ground. You're flying," He grinned as she looked over at him, surprised. "Not so hard, is it?"

Sam blinked, snapping her hand away from him after a pause, "Pssh . . . Easy as pie. I don't need you to hold my hand, Fredamame. Jeeze."

Freddie smirked, reclining back in his chair as though nothing had happened, "Whatever you say."

Sam glared at him, but he didn't notice, and she moved to staring down at her hand, still tingling with warmth from where his fingers had been.

"True. But I could always take you with me, couldn't I?"

"Dream about the days to come,

when I won't have to leave alone."

After a moment she realized she couldn't stop smiling to herself. Whether he was lying and just trying to comfort her, or whether he'd really meant it, it was a nice thing to think about all the same. She snuggled down into her seat, letting her head fall nonchalantly to Freddie's shoulder. He opened an eye and snorted, but didn't stop her, smiling almost unnoticeably before he relaxed once more, cheek resting against blond curls.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

This took me far longer than I would have liked. I've wanted to do a thing with some backstory for Sam for awhile now, and when I read Freddie's blog entry during iDo I just had to write this. But as you can see, with the Fanwar excitement it took me forever. With the fail tho I felt motivated to finish. Lol.

As I promised, here's my shoutout to ya Rob! Everyone please read his iCarly blog! SEDDIE WARRIORS UNITE! .com/

Nutin else much to say 'cept don't let the last ep get you down. Ignore Dan. SHIP FOREVER!