|A Matter of Public Importance
Author: the archduke PM
It was just long and curly. And usually smelled like wet dog. How is that magical? A Shair -Sam's hair- story.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Friendship - Sam P. - Words: 1,495 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 5 - Published: 08-24-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5327581
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: This is my second story about Sam's hair ("A Conversation of Desperation" is the other). That's not too weird, is it?
I'm not sure if I saw the term "Shair" somewhere else or if I made it up.
"A Matter of Public Importance"
by: the archduke
"I know, I'm late, save it. You can yell at me after we do the show." Sam swept into the Shay's apartment, five minutes before airtime and giving her own version of an apology for her tardiness. The hood of her jacket was pulled tight around her head in deference to the typically rainy Seattle day.
"Oh, I will yell at you. And you don't even have to wait until after the show." Carly was standing by the computer in the living room, arms crossed over her chest as she watched her best friend make her way up the stairs. She followed Sam, giving her standard lecture on the virtues of punctuality as Sam nodded and "uh huh'd" at all the right places.
As the girls entered the studio, Freddie looked up from his computer to give Sam a scathing glare.
"Finally!" he said as he handed Sam her remote. "I'd probably have a heart attack if you actually got here at a reasonable time to do the show. I know you think you're the bee's knees, but even the great Sam Puckett could benefit from a little prep time."
Sam paused in taking off her jacket. "Really Fredfry? The 'bee's knees?' And you wonder why I make fun of you; you practically ask for it. Nub."
Freddie was about to retort when he paused in shock. The sound of Carly's surprised shriek echoed through the studio as Sam tossed her jacket into a corner. So it wasn't just him. What he was witnessing was indeed real.
"What?" Sam said as Carly gained control of herself and silently stared at Sam wide-eyed. Carly raised her hand and pointed at Sam's head.
"Y-your hair," she stuttered, her shock affecting her speech. "It's all gone!"
Sam self-consciously ran her hand through her severely shortened curls, tousling them with a rueful expression. "I know. Frothy went a little crazy last night while I was sleeping. You know nothing can wake me up, including a demented cat trying to make some sort of nest out of my hair. That's why I was late. I had to get it fixed, which according to the chick at Awesome Cuts meant most of it had to go." Her eyes narrowed in anger. "That cat is getting a Benson-style flea bath when I get home," she growled.
A beeping interrupted them, signaling ten seconds until showtime. Freddie grabbed his camera as the two girls took their places, Carly still staring at Sam's closely shorn hair. Freddie couldn't contain a final jab as he got over his shock. "I guess you're gonna have to start cleaning behind your ears and neck, since everyone can see them now. Hope the soap doesn't cause a reaction, it's been so long."
Sam gave him a one-fingered response as he started the countdown.
Throughout the show, a part of Carly's mind worried about how their fans would react to Sam's new hair. It was a drastic change, and she knew that people generally did not like even minor changes. They didn't mention anything about it on air, and as the show progressed, she got more and more used to it. By the end she was laughing at herself for being worried. Sam was still Sam, whether her hair was long or short. She was sure the fans wouldn't care.
She was wrong.
When they finished the show and checked the comments, they were dismayed at the negativity, 98% of it directed towards Sam's new hair. It seemed that the webshow-viewing public had very strong opinions about the hair of Internet celebrities.
"Why do they keep calling your hair magical?" Freddie wondered as they all huddled around the downstairs computer. "It was just long and curly. And usually smelled like wet dog. How is that magical?"
Carly enlightened her clueless friend. There were some things boys just didn't understand. "Sam's hair wasn't just long and curly. It formed perfect golden ringlets, like a fairytale princess." Carly sighed. "So pretty."
Sam looked askance at Carly. "Geez Carly, it sounds like you had a crush on my hair. What'd you do, fondle it while I slept?" Sam joked.
A telling blush formed on Carly's cheeks and she wouldn't meet Sam's gaze.
Freddie's head jerked up from the screen at the word 'fondle'. His attention refocused from the computer to his two friends. "What? What did I miss?" he said to both girls. They ignored him.
Sam stood from her stool. "Well I'm glad I got it cut, now that I know the sick truth about you, Carlotta." She lifted up her hand to brush her hair behind her shoulder, an action she had done for so long it had become instinctual. When all she met was air, she grimaced.
"It'll just take me a while to get used to it."
Two days later, most everyone had gotten used to Sam's new hair. The stares at school had stopped, mostly with the help of a few well placed threats on Sam's part, and the viewers were back to commenting on the quality of the actual show. They had thought the incident was behind them, when Spencer's shouts for them to get downstairs had all three running down to the living room.
"Spencer, what is going on?" Carly exclaimed as her brother yelled as he stared at the television.
"Look, iCarly is on the cable news! It's about Sam's hair! And the President!"
"The president of what?" Freddie asked.
"The US of A!" Spencer replied before he shushed them.
Carly, Sam and Freddie took seats around the television as an anchor introduced a story.
"Earlier today the President, taking questions at a town hall forum sponsored by children's advocacy groups and focused on issues concerning children, was asked a question by an eleven-year-old boy. It dealt with the popular Internet webshow iCarly and a change made by one of the hosts that had caused a frenzy among the show's young fans."
The screen switched from the reporter to a recording of a young boy standing before a microphone. "Mr. President, what do you think of Sam's new hair on iCarly?"
It then cut to the President, who was chuckling as he waited for the laughter from the mostly kid audience to die down. "Well, my son has said that Random Dancing just isn't the same with the new hairdo, while my daughter said, and I'm quoting her here, that it looked 'fierce'. So I'll just say that all that matters is that Sam is happy with it."
The screen switched back to the anchor. "So tell us what you think. Do you prefer iCarly's Sam with long hair or short hair? Two pictures of Sam briefly replaced the anchor, one pre- and one post-haircut. And grown-ups out there, don't feel too bad if you don't know what we're talking about. Just ask one of your kids. Go to our website and let us know what you think. Kids, make sure you get your parents' permission first."
The four of them continued to stare at the television while the anchor introduced a story about a man living in a homemade submarine.
Freddie cleared his throat. "That was nice of the President, not to take a side," he said, trying to break the silence that had settled around them. Carly nodded, in a bit of a daze.
"Do you think we could get an invite to the White House?" Spencer asked excitedly.
Sam put her head in her hands as she groaned. "I'm getting a wig," she said. "And a new cat."
A/N 2: Some background-
Inspired in part by Bill Clinton, when he went on MTV when he first ran for president and took questions from younger people. One question was "boxers or briefs?" Young people ask stupid questions.
Barack Obama supposedly knows about "Twilight" since he has young kids, so I thought this idea wasn't that much of a stretch.
Slightly perverted Freddie keeps popping up in my fics.
Could "Chair" (Carly/Sam's hair) be a valid ship? That is, in a non-squick way.
I'm not sure if cats make nests, but Frothy isn't exactly your average cat.
Do people actually use the term 'fierce'? I can't keep up with kids these days.