Paper Bagged Nubs Are Not Prince Charmings
by: aNdreaa

My first iCarly fic attempt. My God, I love this fandom.
This all takes place in the thirty seconds (probably less though, but go with it) of the offscreen Seddie conversation in iMake Sam Girlier.

Hee.

-&-

She said pretend.

Pretend.

That still gave Sam no inclination to go through with it. Her natural abrasiveness simply wouldn't allow it.

"One sec," she said tonelessly. She walked back into the Shays' kitchen and pulled open the first drawer of their island counter where she knew they kept all of their large paper bags.

Without batting an eye, she grabbed the top one, walked back to the Freddork, and dumped it casually over his head.

"Sam!" Carly remarked, scandalized.

"Well, how can I pretend to have a crush on Freddie if I'm lookin' at his face?!" Sam demanded.

Carly gave her an exasperated look.

Freddie, now irked, pouted from inside the paper bag mask. "You know, I don't need this," he said, loudly.

Carly chuckled at the two of them and left to greet a chipper and tuxedo'd Spencer who'd just arrived at the front door.

"This is moronic," Freddie groaned, "and hopeless."

Sam dropped her jaw. "It's not hopeless! I can be more girly."

"Cannot."

"Can so!" Sam folded her arms and gave the paper bag an angry stare. "You'd better not be rolling your eyes under there, Benson, or you're getting a knuckle sandwich courtesy of me."

Freddie backed up two steps with his palms out in defense as Sam lowered her fist. "You're not helping your case! I-I didn't say you absolutely couldn't be girly. It's just…not going to be permanent. It's only a temp to impress Pete. You're going to be back to your old psychopathic self in no time and you know it."

"It's not just a temp," Sam sneered. She dully noted how it seemed she was yelling at a paper bag rather than the tech nerd inside. "Now, keep the bag on. Let's do this."

Freddie made that familiar strangled and whiny noise he always made whenever he was peeved or horrified. "Fine."

And then, to the boy's utter horror, Sam's gruff voice changed to syrupy and sweet- the kind of voice Carly would use in her, 'Please? For me?'s.

"Hi, F—Pete," Sam said, smiling and blinking rapidly. "Uh, how's it going?"

Freddie didn't say anything for a long moment. "Stop," he said. "Sam, this is really weird. I don't kn—"

"Roleplaaaaay," Sam commanded threateningly, her teeth clenched as she dragged out the word. Somehow, this scared the pants off of Freddie and he gave in rather wimpishly.

"Hello," he said, and cleared his throat to sound a little more like Pete if that was in any way possible, "Hello…Samantha…" then, shrugging at a loss for things to say, he squeaked out a, "…come here often?"

Sam's eyebrow shot up and her mouth twisted in a disgusted frown. "Are you kidding me?" she snorted, going back to her normal voice. Freddie dropped his arms and slouched, whining again. "Sam, I really don't want—"

"Do it you nub!"

"You being girly is the freakiest thing ever. Just stick with your canned-cheese-down-Gibby's-pants routine okay? Knock it off! Pete's going to like you for being yourself and if he doesn't, well, oh well."

"Not 'oh well', dorkface! I have to try to be girly at least. It's what all guys like Pete like."

Sam had to give Freddie…er, the paper bag, credit for insisting that she'd be liked no matter what but this was no time for reassurance. She told Carly that she was going to change her own image and that was that. No backing down. It was fruit cocktail time.

"I don't think so."

"Look," Sam said tersely, "Pete probably wants a princess. And a princess cannot be like me when she wants a Prince Charming to kiss her now, can she?" Sam put her hands on her hips; the first girly move she'd done all night.

"Well, I did."

That last statement flew out of Freddie's mouth (and underneath the paper bag) so easily and naturally before he could grab the words back and shove them back down his throat. He swallowed and then backed up blindly, not knowing or wanting to know the probably furious expression on Samantha Puckett's face.

He winced instinctively and was right in doing so. He felt one of her hands grab his wrist, then his ankle, and she pulled him into a painful twist before slamming him down onto the Shay's hardwood floor. Ah. Routine.

"AAAAAGGGHHHH! LET GO OF MY LEG!"

Across the living room, Carly sighed at Spencer's inquiry.

"I'm teaching Sam to be more girly."

"Oh, good work."

-&-

Don't kill me. Just press that cute little box that sporadically squeals out, "REVIEW ME!"

I should be updating other stuff...but Seddie called my name.