Title: iCame in Through Your Bedroom Window

Summary: "The best I can do is try to show you how to love with no fear." Sam spends a night with Spencer, wakes up with a lover, a best friend, a confusion, a fear, and a longing that scared the hell out of her. oneshot, Spam xx

Disclaimer: I own a pet squirrel and a Chai Latte

Author's note: Ok guys, I know I never finished Sam's chapter in The Things iCarry, and I'm SORRY. DX This is why I usually wait until I'm finished to write chapter fics, I have a habit of leaving things unfinished, but since there was a forever long iCarly hiatus I've been lacking inspiration. I actually started this before I wrote that fic, then started that one to practice writing third person&Spencer's character. Then I finished it and forgot about it and just found it now, since it's old I'm not as proud of it as I was 3 months ago, but this site needs some more Spam up in dis bitch.

I was actually literally just driving down the road (I think it was John Lennon's birthday, so the radio was like Beatlemania) when "She Came In Through The Bathroom Window" came on, and I said to myself "Hmm, Sam would do something like that." That's what started this fic. The last few lines or so where inspired by "My Little Girl" by Jack Johnson, such a pretty song, turn it on in the background while you read this!

Also, this is one of the longest oneshot fics I've ever written- I try and keep mine short because I do get really ADD with fanfiction, it can be the best ever but if it's over 2000 words, hale no, I'm not reading it. That's just a personal opinion, though :)

Outside Bushwell Plaza, a petite blonde girl jumped, hoping to get a hold of the retractable ladder that would allow her to climb to the fire escape. It wasn't raining, but the streets were wet, her sneakers slipping a little as they hit the pavement. She had many ways to get into her best friend's apartment, none of which involved a key, but this was her last resort. She had already picked the lock of the front AND back doors, but they had expressed their anger at having to replace the chain locks after the third time. So she went back outside, the air biting her as she finally pulled the ladder down on what seemed like the hundredth time. She quietly climbed past unknown apartments until she reached a familiar window on the eighth floor, the window to Spencer's room.

Meanwhile, inside the Shay's loft, Spencer lay awake in his bed. He was physically exhausted, simply from the business of everyday life, but his mind was wide-awake and wouldn't shut down. His thoughts wandered to all the troubled places he never let them go when the lights were on. He tried to shut his eyes to make the thoughts go away, tried to open his eyes to see if they were still there. Nothing worked. He finally gave up on trying to sleep. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. He ran his fingers through his hair and got up, heading towards the only escape he ever knew, his artwork.

As Sam easily opened the window to Spencer's room, she thought about why she was there. It was a twenty-five minute walk to Bushwell from her house, and it should be mentioned that it was the middle of the night, two or three in the morning. The only answer she could think of is that the Shay's loft had everything she could ever need. If she needed food, she went there. If she needed the advice of her best friend, she went there. If she needed solitude, she went there. It was the only escape she ever knew. But tonight she was suffering from the same insomnia Spencer was, and needed the escape from pure boredom.

While Spencer was abstractedly splashing paint on a canvas, he thought about Sam. He thought about her all the time. His little sister's best friend. And one of his own best friends, as well. He loved her, more than he loved himself, even. But he could think of so many reasons she wouldn't want to be with him. He knew Sam was the most mature out of the trio, not only because she had to repeat the third grade, but also because he knew she had grown up way too fast. He never thought of her as being a "child," and now at 18 (and a half) years old, she no longer looked like a teenager.

Sam was concerned when she noticed Spencer wasn't in his bed as she climbed onto the window seat. The warm air inside the apartment conflicted with her cold skin as she made her way down the hallway to the living room. She thought about Spencer. Her best friend's older brother, and her own best friends as well. She loved him, he would always be her first love, whether he knew it or not. But she could think of so many reasons why he wouldn't want to be with her. He was flawed, she knew that, and that's why she loved him. Because he was just as damaged as she was.

Spencer turned around to get more art supplies from his room, and was surprised as he saw her, emerging from the hallway, stepping into the moonlight.

"Whoa, when did you-" he glanced at the front door, seeing the chain lock still intact, "How did you get in here?" he was genuinely confused, but not unhappy with her presence.

"I came in through your bedroom window." She said simply.

He walked towards her and put his hands around her shoulders, "Sam, you're freezing."

"Well, it's cold outside."

"Did you walk here?" She followed him down the hallway to his room; he grabbed one of his hoodies from a pile of hopefully clean clothes and handed it to her.

"Yeah. I was bored at home and my mom had brought home one of her… well, I don't wanna say 'clients,' but she has been buying a lot of designer bikinis lately."

He scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to shake the image, "…Nice."

He went back to his painting, and Sam settled down on the couch with a package of ham.

"So… why are you awake at this time of the night?" she asked with a full mouth.

"I couldn't sleep." He mumbled, not wanting to reveal his burdens.

"Obviously."

It was silent for a while, but not an awkward silence. A comfortable type of quiet that you can only achieve with good friends.

Spencer finally took a conscious look at his work and realized the inattentive strokes of his paints resembled a certain blonde that was currently lying on his couch. It almost scared him, how much the eyes looked like hers. His feelings for her scared him. He ripped the large paper off from the easel and crumpled it up, hoping she wouldn't see. He gave up on painting for the night.

"So, why are you here again?" he asked, sitting down on the couch as far away from her as he could, "Is everything okay at home?" Spencer never knew the details of anything that went on with Sam's personal life, but he knew that she never had the chance to even be a child. Although she turned out fine, he could never forgive her mother for bringing her up like that.

"Yeah, it's fine."

He gave her a raised-eyebrows, "tell-the-truth" look.

"Seriously, it's fine. I was just bored, I couldn't sleep, and they were… loud."

"Gross."

"Yeah."

They sat there for what seemed like an infinite amount of time, and just… talked. Conversation flowed easily with them; it was hard to stop speaking. They talked about everything and nothing. Sam always knew how to make Spencer laugh. Not a forced laughter, either, a genuine, carefree laughter that makes your ribs hurt and brings tears to your eyes. Soon, Spencer noticed the sun begin to rise and with it, he noticed how exhausted she looked. They had lost all sense of time.

He stopped mid-sentence to say, "You can go to sleep if you want, Sam."

"No… no, you were talking, and I wanted to listen."

They began to speak less and less, simply because they hardly had the energy left in them.

"We really should… get to bed." He stated sleepily, she smiled in return, and muttered an "okay" as he got up and forced himself to walk away from her.

He internally panicked as he realized that Sam was following him to his room.

"Would it be okay if I… just crashed here?" she said, arranging his pillows to the top of his bed.

She looked up at him and gave him another quick smile, a smile that was so lustful for her age.

He smiled back at her, only his was weak, and slightly defeated.

"Maybe you shouldn't, kid." He used the name to convince himself that he shouldn't want her as bad as he did.

"Don't call me that." She got comfortable in his bed anyway.

The infatuation killed both of them as they lay there, motionless, with thoughts and lust and temptations provoking them.

"Sam, I-…" he said, both of them turning around to face one another.

"Yeah?"

Spencer had never cared about the fear of looking ridiculous or following rules, but something just held him back this time.

"I'm… really glad you're here."

She began to take his hands, lacing his fingers with hers. He heard her breaths become shallow and scarce.

"God, I can't take it anymore." He said, breaking away from her and returned to the all-too-familiar position of cradling his head in his hands at the edge of his bed. His mattress creaked as she crawled over to him, looping her arms around his neck from behind. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, leaving a warm sensation where her lips touched him.

"Spencer…" she said softly, "I'm really glad I'm here too."

He turned around to face her, and their eyes met. Her hands ran down his chest, leaving the same burning sensation right at the heart. The lust hit both of them like an overpowering wave; they were pulled under, drowning with infatuation after just a few moments of eye contact. Neither of them was strong enough to fight it and they simultaneously leaned forward and kissed with the passion, ferocity, and velocity to pull them back to the surface.

"All I really want's to be with you, Sam."

He felt her smile as her lips were still against his. He felt her body rise as he kissed her mouth, the burning sensation now ran through Spencer's veins like a flame.

At that moment, he didn't care about anything else but the way her body fit with his like it was made for him. She was so small; but he knew she was the last thing from innocent. Spencer found out that night that she knew ways to please a man that he had never imagined. She loved him. He loved her.

He awoke in the afternoon and as his eyes fluttered open he saw her curvy body, in a grey tanktop and plain black cotton panties, slowing sauntering out of his bed and into the hallway, her fingertips grazing the walls. Her blonde curls bounced up and down even when her body didn't. He thought about following her, but when she was out of sight, his eyes felt heavy again and he fell back asleep. When he awoke the second time, he hoped she was still there and went to the place he knew she'd be, in the kitchen. And of course, there she was, still in her underwear, cooking breakfast. She had music on and was unconsciously moving her hips. Spencer snuck up behind her, put his hands around her waist and kissed her neck.

"Hi." He said after resting his head on her shoulder, having to lean down quite a bit.

"You talk in your sleep." she replied in a raspy, breathy voice.

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Not."

"Too."

He smiled as she put the bacon and eggs on two plates, giving herself the larger halves. They sat down and ate silently. He stared at the side of her face, and something was different. Something seemed wrong.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She said with her mouth full, as usual.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" she insisted, annoyed.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in a tense silence. She quietly took care of her plates and went towards the couch, and he followed.

"Hey, kiddo, seriously-"

"Don't." she said, turning around and staring at him with intense eyes that made him slightly back away. She tried to turn away again but he grabbed her arm, turning her back around and she wilted in his arms.

"It's just… I thought last night was going to be the only night." She mumbled into his chest.

"Do you… want it to be?" he replied sadly.

"I don't know."

"I don't want to make you do anything you don't wanna do, Sam. But I don't want it to be the only night." She pulled away with her arms still around him, and he pushed away a piece of hair that fell into her face.

"I'm just… scared." She stared at the floor

He raised his eyebrows at her. Seeing Sam Puckett so unsure of herself might seem like a surprise to other people, however, Spencer recognized her broken side and knew it well. He was never surprised by it, nor did he encourage it, but it did remind him that Sam Puckett was a human being, not intimidating in the least. This concealed side of her was what reminded him that she needed to be loved more than ever.

She spoke frantically, "I'm scared because it's too hard and because I'll lose you and because it's not going to work and because I think too much and because Carly won't like it and I'm scared that I'll feel trapped and give up, because that's just what… happens with me… I don't want to love you, Spence, I don't want to hurt you."

"It doesn't have to happen that way."

"Do you… love me?" she asked in a small voice, almost as if she was cursing.

"More every day." He replied with no hesitation.

She looked up at him with a half-smile.

"Letting go and giving up and walking away might be easy for you, but there's nothing you can say to me to make me love you any less. I'm not gonna let you walk out that door just because you're scared."

Sam felt as hopeless as she could be, but after a deep breath, felt alright. As if everything was going to be okay. Because as much as she feared being in love, she knew if she allowed herself to let go of him, she would never find someone to hold her like that again. What she feared more was never finding someone who fits with her as well as he did. No man could ever fill her with such an indescribable sweetness. He saw the look in her eyes change as she smiled, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"I'll stay."

And with those two words, Samantha Puckett stole Spencer Shay's heart.

And if he had it his way, she'd never feel sadness or loneliness, never be lied to or hurt. But for now, the best he could do was show her how to love without fear.

Whatcha think? Also, I purposely left out the details of their night to keep it PG-rated, and for you to use your imagination ;)

(also, I just googled, John Lennon's birthday was October 9th- sweet bitchtits, I wrote this forever ago.)

Review please, Constructive Criticism is always welcome and appreciated 3