I don't know what it is about iCarly, but here's another fic! These plot bunnies just keep coming out of the sky. It's raining iCarly plots! :) I've been thinking a lot about shipping issues, and I'm open to the idea of either Carly/Freddie or Sam/Freddie, but these oneshots just seem to be Seddie-centric so far. What can I say? They just beg to be written, and beggars can't be choosers.
Disclaimer: Although Nathan Kress is super adorable, I really can't claim ownership. That would be creepy, as I am 22. Also illegal. Know what else is illegal? Borrowing people's characters without permission. Sorry Dan! They're safe with me, I promise!
iAm Fortune's Fool
"Look!" Sam called to her friends, who were busy exploring some nearby vendors. "A fortune teller!"
Carly scoffed, "Come on, Sam. This is a dinky little street fair. She's not a real fortune teller. It's just for show."
"Well, aren't we cynical today," Freddie piped up. "We should see what she says about iCarly. Maybe she'll predict that iCarly will become—" he deepened his voice to mimic an announcer, "—the greatest web show on Earth!"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Suuure. I have a better idea. You go see her. Maybe she'll tell you that you have a week to live."
Freddie made a face at her, and she grinned. "Go on. I dare you. Or are you too…chicken?" She flapped her arms and made chicken noises.
Freddie folded his arms across his chest. "I am not. Just watch me." He strode over to the fortune teller's tent.
"Wait," Carly said quickly, following behind him. "What if she really does predict something horrible?"
"I thought you said it wasn't real," Freddie reminded her.
"Well, you never know," she replied, with a hint of concern in her voice.
"Just do it," Sam whined, pushing Freddie into the tent.
Real or not, there's no turning back now, Carly thought, as she watched Sam back away from the tent, a devilish smile on her face.
"Welcome," came a voice, and Freddie peered nervously into the darkness.
"Hello?" he gulped, and the voice laughed softly.
"You dare to enter the realm of the all-seeing, do you, boy?"
Freddie stood still, trying to figure out the direction in which he should walk. It was still pitch black. "Ye…yes," he stuttered.
"Are you ready to have revealed to you the secrets of the future?" the voice was getting louder with each word.
"I am." Freddie took a step forward, and all of a sudden, light flooded the tent. A lamp had been turned on, and he could finally see a low, round table with a crystal ball placed in the center, as well as a young woman, draped in shawls, standing over it.
"Hello, dear," she greeted warmly, opening her arms. This caused her many necklaces and bracelets to make loud clinking sounds; she was wearing dozens of them, and the noise was magnified in the tiny tent.
Freddie stepped gingerly over to the table. The fortune teller sank to the ground and sat Indian-style, so Freddie copied her. His line of sight was now level with the top of the crystal ball. He peered into it, and saw nothing but a distorted image of the table below.
"Now, what is it that you wish to know?" the fortune teller asked.
Freddie eyed her suspiciously. "Uh, my future…" It came out sounding more like a question, and the fortune teller smiled condescendingly.
"No, child. I mean, is there some specific knowledge from the beyond that you wish me to call upon? Your career? Family? Your true love?"
Freddie shrugged. "Whatever. I already know who I'm going to marry, so—"
"Do you?" the fortune teller interrupted. "Let's see then. Give me your hands." She held out her own, and Freddie laid his on the table, palms open. She placed her palms over his, and hummed something unintelligible.
"Let us see if you are correct. Does this girl's name begin with…S?" The fortune teller had squeezed her eyes shut tightly, but opened them again to see his reaction.
Freddie shook his head. "No, her name's—"
"Shh, shh, do not tell me, child," the fortune teller insisted. She squeezed her eyes shut again and hummed. "Yes, I'm definitely seeing the letter S."
"Oh. Well, I guess that works. Her last name starts with S."
The fortune teller looked uncertain. "No, no, I'm definitely getting S as the first name."
Freddie was growing frustrated. This lady was obviously a quack. "I'm telling you, her name doesn't start with an S."
"Do you know anyone whose name begins with that letter?" the fortune teller asked, looking nervous.
Freddie thought for a moment. "Well, there's my friend Sam…"
"Ah, just as I thought," the fortune teller interrupted yet again. "You are going to marry this Sam girl." She was smiling a knowing smile.
Freddie pulled his hands away and placed them in his lap. "No, I'm going to marry Carly. Well, not right away. She's going to be with someone else, first."
"Are you in love with this Carly?"
"Yeah. I have been for years."
"And does she love you back?"
Freddie frowned. "Well—"
"See? See?" The fortune teller's face broke into a grin again. "I told you I would tell you your true love. Carly is not it. It is the S girl."
"It's not Sam. Trust me," Freddie huffed. "Now, can you tell me something useful, please?"
The fortune teller shook her head. "I only receive one piece of information for each guest. It is time for you to go, now."
"What?!" Freddie stood, hands on hips. "That's the best you can do? You tell me I'm going to marry Sam, and that's it? Carly was right, you are a fake." He began to storm towards the entrance of the tent, when one word stopped him in his tracks.
"Tattoo," the fortune teller whispered.
"What do you mean?" Freddie turned around to stare at her, and she nodded at him.
"You once got a tattoo of this S girl's face on your arm."
Freddie instinctively grabbed at his arm where the tattoo had been. "It wasn't a real one."
The fortune teller gave him a knowing smile. "But you thought it was. You willingly let Sam's cousin tattoo you over a silly bet. And then you didn't even bother to research ways to remove it. All you cared about was hiding it from your mother. Why would you be willing display this girl's face on your arm?"
Freddie's face turned scarlet. "I…I…"
"That's what I thought. Good luck!" And with that, the fortune teller turned off the light and began humming to herself.
Freddie stumbled to the tent's opening, and thrust his way out into the sunlight.
Carly and Sam took one look at Freddie's ashen face and burst out laughing.
"Wow, Freddie, what did she tell you?" Carly asked through her giggles.
"It doesn't matter," he said quickly, and Sam and Carly exchanged bemused glances. "But she was real," he added, as he led his friends away from the offending tent.
"How do you know?" Carly asked.
"She knew details, stuff that no one else but you guys know…" he trailed off. "Just forget it. I'm glad that's over with. Let's go win some prizes or something."
Sam agreed. "Yeah, okay. Just give me a second. I left something over by the fortune teller's tent. You guys go ahead."
Carly and Freddie waved her off, and Sam darted quickly back to the tent.
"Gibby," she hissed, and the boy stepped out of the fortune teller's abode to meet her. "Whatever your sister did, it worked. Freddie's totally freaked out!"
Gibby nodded. "Yeah, she's good. That tattoo story was what got him."
"You used the tattoo story? What did he want to know?"
"Oh, just stuff about his mom," Gibby said, but Sam missed his evasive tone, and his eyes darting back and forth, looking anywhere but at hers.
"Figures. Poor kid. Well thanks again. Here," she handed him a slip of paper. "Signed, sealed, delivered. My promise not to harass you for two weeks."
"Thank you, Sam." Gibby clutched the paper tightly, and darted back into the tent.
Sam brushed her shoulder proudly and pretended to pop her collar. "That was too easy." She picked up the bag of popcorn she had 'dropped' by the tent, and ran to catch up with her friends.
The three of them had a nice day together exploring the rest of the fair, but Sam couldn't help but notice Freddie glancing her way and gulping every once in a while. Boy did Gibby earn that no-harassment pass. She would definitely be using his services in the future.