Summary: The two of them are like crayons, strange, misunderstood, but beautiful. And left to their own devices, what sort of picture will they create? Spam
Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it. Not even the crayons (though I do own several myself). Oh, I do own the original sharpie/crayon version of Sam, though. I drew it by accident one day.
Feedback: meh. If you wish it. I will reply to all of it personally.
A/N: So I've not written fanfiction in nigh a year. I started focusing more on original fiction until I was in a bad mood, watched iCarly, and ended up with some fuzzy spam thoughts. I went to , my good old faithful companion, and I was horribly disappointed. My spam thoughts were not fed. I decided to up the game a little bit. I came up with this, and my brother read it while we were stuck on a train for 10 hours, and said it was awesome.
I apologize for any OOC ness. It's entirely possible. Oo
Sam sighed. Carly was running late. She had been running late since the track coach had began running the boys past her apartment building. Something about some guy or another. Or perhaps multiple ones. Sam didn't pay much attention. The one time she'd consented to be interested in a guy her age, it had turned out awfully. While Carly was constantly gaga over some guy or another at their school, Sam didn't really care much anymore.
"Hey Sam. Where's Carly and Freddie?" Carly's older brother Spencer walked into the room, carrying a drawing pad and an assortment of pens. Sam rolled her eyes.
"Freddie's watching Carly and Carly's watching a bunch of shirtless guys run around the block." She explained. Spencer wrinkled his nose for a moment, then changed his mind and sighed dreamily, dropping his pens onto the coffee table and flopping down on the couch next to Sam.
"Ah, young attraction." He said. He opened the drawing pad to a clear page, picked up a pen, and began chewing on the end of it.
"Whatcha working on?" Sam asked, genuinely curious. One of her favorite things about hanging out at Carly's house was to see what weird thing Spencer was working on that week. He always had something fun and interesting to distract her busy mind with. He did not disappoint.
"I'm going to draw a comic book." Spencer announced. "About superheroes." Sam nodded appreciatively.
"Yeah, that's usually what comic books are about. So what kind of hero do you have there?" she asked, indicating the blank page.
"I dunno." Spencer said, frowning. "What do you think I should draw?"
"What are you asking me for? You're the artistic genius." Sam retorted, crossing her arms.
"I dunno, I think you could come up with something cool. You've got a knack for the wacky." Sam stared at Spencer after he made that revelation. He grinned at her in a way which convinced many people that he was less than sane. Same believed that he was crazy whole-heartedly. That fact amused her greatly. All of a sudden, Spencer stopped and blinked.
"Wait a sec, you think I'm a genius? Of the artistic variety?" he was now looking at Sam with a strange (er than usual) look on his face. Sam shrugged.
"Well, duh." She replied matter-of-factly. "You come up with all the coolest stuff. It's all different from anything else in the world. Not that I'm an expert or anything. Why?"
"You know…I don't know." Spencer said. He frowned. "Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah, Spence?" Sam said, matching his tone.
"I want to ask you a question that's both strange and personal." Spencer announced importantly. Sam quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Um, okay. Shoot." She said, settling back to hear this strange and personal question. Spencer fidgeted a moment, then rearranged himself on the couch so the drawing pad was between the two of them. He began doodling.
"How come you're not outside watching the shirtless guys with Carly?" he asked, not looking at her. Sam shrugged, not even phased by the question.
"What's the point? They're a bunch of dudes my age from my school. Most of which are scared of me, by the way. I've been watching shirtless kids run around forever, y'know, 'cause of all my cousins and sibs and stuff. A naked kid chest is not that interesting." She mused. Spencer paused in his doodling and gave her a look.
"They're all your age, and you're not exactly a kid. I mean, you kind of are, but you're not." He said. It sounded confusing, but Sam got what he meant. That surprised her. Not that she understood what he meant, but what she understood.
"Sure I am. I watch cartoons and eat sugar and think sneaking down to the kitchen so I can eat ham in bed at midnight is pretty cool." She retorted.
"Yeah, so do I." Spencer said, then made a face. "Except for the part about the ham. But that doesn't make us kids, does it? I mean, I think we're kinda grown up." Sam snorted, very un-ladylike, though she silently noted Spencer's use of we instead of you.
"No one else seems to think so." She pointed out.
"That's just 'cause we're weird. Duh." Spencer grinned at her. Sam laughed.
"That's a fact, Jack!" She agreed.
"But back to what I was saying…so what, the guys at your school are just kids to you?" Spencer said. Sam was beginning to wish he'd gotten distracted by his own weirdness and forgotten this topic.
"Yeah. I mean…they're so drama ridden! Carly and Freddie too. Everything is this big horrible deal. I'm just like, let's skip that crap!" Sam shrugged. "Maybe guys will be cooler when they get older. Or then again, maybe people are right about me."
"What do you mean, people are right about you?" Spencer asked curiously. Sam gave him a crooked grin.
"Well, there are some people who kinda think I don't like boys at all. That I like chicks instead." She admitted. Her voice was nonchalant, but she peeked at Spencer as carelessly as she could, wondering what he was thinking. His expressive face was surprisingly unreadable.
"Do you?" he asked. There was no judgment in his voice. Just curiosity.
"Dunno. Never really tried it." Sam said flippantly. Spencer stopped drawing. He put his drawing pad face-down onto the coffee table. Sam didn't look at him, unnerved by his sudden seriousness. Instead, she watched a couple pens roll onto the floor.
"What about guys? Do you really not like them?" Spencer asked.
"Don't know. Never really thought about it that much." Sam replied, trying to hold her flippant tone. Warm fingers hesitantly touched her cheek, directing her face upward, so she was looking at Spencer again. Her heart stopped and beat faster at the same time, confusion written upon her features.
"Here." He said softly, then leaned in and kissed her. Sam had kissed several boys; mostly in the janitor's closet at school while skipping geology. But this was different. The boys she'd kissed before wanted something, needed something, and kissed
her as though they were trying to take whatever she could give them to fill up whatever they lacked. Spencer needed nothing. He took nothing. He simply kissed her. It lasted only a few seconds, then he pulled away and smiled at her, his eyes dancing. He studied her face for a few minutes.
"Good." He said finally. Somehow, that was the greatest thing she'd ever heard. Suddenly, her mind caught up with her.
"Whoa, hey, hang on there partner. What was that?" she demanded. Spencer retrieved his drawing pad and resumed drawing. He made a face, then traded his ballpoint pen for a Sharpie.
"Proof that you're straight as an arrow." He said in reply to her question.
"That's it?" Sam stared at him in disbelief.
"Pretty much, yeah." Spencer replied, entirely casual. Sam wondered if she could bring herself to hate him.
"You can't do that to people!" She cried. "You can't just kiss someone and then go back to whatever the hell you're drawing like nothing happened!"
"But I just did." Spencer said. Sam stood.
"You know what?" she said crossly. Spencer looked up at her. She yanked the drawing pad from his hands.
"B-but…hey!" He cried, his eyes going round. "I need that!"
"Nuh-uh. You're going to explain to me just what you were—" she paused, looking down at what he'd been drawing.
"Don't…" Spencer reached for the drawing pad, but it was too late.
"Thinking…" Sam finished half-heartedly. Her own face stared up at her, sad, curious, playful, and hopeful all at once. She looked at Spencer. He ran both hands through his hair, hiding his face in his arms for a moment.
"Yeah, so you weren't supposed to see that yet." He mumbled, sounding horribly embarrassed. Sam could only stare. She turned backward one page. This time, she was looking off into the distance, sketched in pencil, slightly anime-ish. The page before that showed her laughing, and was done in sharpie and crayon. She quickly flipped through the pages, and found versions of her scattered throughout the drawing pad. She wasn't the only subject of Spencer's talent, but her face was a recurring image.
"Yeah, and you weren't supposed to do that, either." Spencer groaned, making a feeble grab for the drawing pad. Sam held it out of reach, giving him a look that clearly said You're kidding, right?
"How 'bout we talk?" she suggested mildly. Spencer nodded, defeated.
"So." Sam began, sitting back on the couch, still holding onto the drawing pad. Spencer sighed.
"I'm sorry." He said. "I can't help it. Whatever's in my head comes out onto the paper and…"
"And it's been me." Sam finished. Spencer nodded. "Why? How come I'm not just your little sister's dumb best friend?"
"Because you never could be!" Spencer burst out. "Sam, look at you! You're so…you!" Spencer looked frustrated. He took the drawing pad back from Sam at last and turned it to the page where she was drawn in sharpie and crayon.
"This is you." He said, his eyebrows knit together with the effort of trying to explain what he meant. "The sharpie represents how bold you are, and the crayon because you're so vibrant and…because no one gets it. People look at crayons and think they're kind of childish and silly. Sometimes people even look down on crayons. They don't believe you can accomplish anything with a crayon." Spencer's eyes went dreamy as he settled into the comfort of his comparison, relieved to have found a way of explaining things at last. He paused to see how Sam was reacting to his speech. She was frowning.
"Maybe they're right about crayons." Sam said thoughtfully. "Are they ever meant to do great things?" Hesitantly, Spencer reached out to touch her face.
"Look at what they can do. People don't realize how beautiful crayons can be. You're a crayon, Sam." Spencer said, satisfied. Sam, however, was not.
"Okay, maybe I am a crayon. But I'm not a pretty, new crayon. I'm that crayon at the bottom of the box that you have to stick your finger in all the way to get out. I'm the dirty, broken crayon that no one wants to use. I'm the crayon that makes people think maybe it's time to get a new box." She said. Spencer shook his head.
"That might be half true. You might be the little crayon at the bottom, kinda broken and dirty, but you're only so used because of the amazing color you have. Your color is beautiful, Sam." He said. Sam sighed.
"How can you think that?" she asked. Spencer looked at her for a moment, then he looked away.
"I'm a crayon too, you know. But I'm the barely used crayon in the corner of the box. People try me out for a few minutes because I'm such a weird color. I'm like the crayon they named Macaroni N Cheese. It's weird, so people try it out, but they don't really need it in the end. They put it back and go on with their picture amused…but no one really needs me." Spencer admitted quietly.
"Spencer…" Sam began. Spencer shrugged.
"I mean, Carly does. So I'm happy. It's cool. But it's kind of lonely to be a crayon, you know?" Sam began to reply, but Spencer leaned back with a groan. "But what am I talking about? One of the reasons your color is so beautiful is because you're so strong. Stronger than I could ever be. I'm kinda bright, but you stand out with a strength beyond mine."
"Me? Strong?" Sam burst out laughing. "I'm tough, but I'm not strong. I know what you mean about the lonely life of a crayon. I'm nothing but a picture. This is me as everyone sees me." Sam pointed to the crayon drawing. Then she flipped to the latest picture of her. It was drawn in shadows and cross-hatching. Her face was pensive, her eyes were sad.
"This is more like me in real life, though." Sam brushed a hand over the face on the page. "Kinda dark, kinda sad, but too bold to let it show.
"But I don't want you to be sad." Spencer said earnestly, his face absolutely serious. Sam smiled at him.
"Aw, you're sweet." She praised. "But…I'm just a broken crayon. There's nothing anyone can do about that."
"Sam, look. Let me believe in your color, all right? Let me teach you to see you like I do." Spencer said. "I'll take some tape and put you back together and keep loving your color. Just…will you let me?" Sam's smile faded, realizing what he meant.
"Why?" she asked again.
"Because you inspire me. Because you give me strength to keep on being me, even when people suggest I be someone more normal. Because when you're around, I can just be Spencer, the odd-colored crayon, and it's cool. I can't be that way with anyone else." Spencer said. "Even Carly…for her, I have to be Big Brother. I have to be Dad." He looked away. "It's not easy, you know?"
"I do know." Sam replied. She sighed. "But, like, you're ten years older than me." Spencer made a face.
"Try six." He replied indignantly. Then he sighed. "I know. That's why I've never said anything before. Because you are my little sister's best friend. But it's cool. I know
you'll be around so-so it'll be okay. If I can't be with you, that'll work." He looked sad. Sam thought for a few minutes, watching his face.
"Okay, look. What if we just keep things quiet for a while? You know, take it easy, just be cool?" She suggested. Spencer looked at her, surprise written on his features.
"You mean it?" he asked. Sam nodded.
"You make a good case, though I liked the idea from the beginning. I wanna be with you, too. I just thought you were teasing me." She said, shrugging.
"Tease you? Never!" Spencer looked horrified. He stopped and considered for a moment. "Okay, well, that's a lie. I tease all the time. But not about something like this. I wouldn't…"
"Then we have a deal." Sam said. Spencer's face lit up and he smiled. Sam grinned back at him.
"One condition, though." She said.
"What?" Spencer raised an eyebrow. Sam's grin widened.
"That thing you did a few minutes ago? Do that again sometimes, okay?" She said. Spencer grinned, reached out and ran a hand through Sam's curls, then leaned in and kissed her.
"Was not!" Freddie complained s he and Carly made their way into the apartment.
"You were so, admit it!" Carly teased. Freddie shook his head.
"There's only one girl for me, Carly. I was not watching the girl's track team!" he insisted.
"Whatever, Freddie. Whoa, what's up with you guys?" Carly asked, quirking an eyebrow. Sam and Spencer were sitting on the couch, their heads bent together over one of Spencer's drawing pads.
"Hang on, Carly." Sam said without looking up. "No, no, look. Zoodleman's power should be to throw ham at people. Think about it…would you really want to rob a bank after getting hit in the head by a big cut of ham?"
"Not really, but that's not a very super power. It's kinda weird. "Spencer complained, making a face.
"Who's calling what weird?" Sam pointed out. Spencer laughed.
"Okay, I'll think about it. No promises!" he announced. Sam stood.
"Okay, Carly. Oh wait." She turned around and reached down into a box of crayons. She pulled one out and handed it to Spencer.
"Make his logo this color. It's the best one for the job." She said. He took the crayon and looked at it. His face exploded into a grin.
"Macaroni…" he said.
"And cheese!" Sam finished with him, both of them sounding overly jovial. They laughed. Sam—in an entirely random gesture to Carly's eyes—ruffled Spencer's hair, then skipped over to Carly and Freddie, who gave her a funny look.
"What?" she said.
"What's' that about?" Freddie wanted to know.
"Yeah, what's with you and my brother?" Carly added. Sam glanced at Spencer who was happily coloring away.
"Ah, nothing. We just figured out that we both loved crayons." She said. Spencer looked up and grinned, then returned to his work. Sam laughed.
"Come on, guys, we've got a webcast to plan" she said, tossing an arm around both of her best friends shoulders. "And I vote we try out the Balloons vs. Bananas idea." Carly and Freddie began talking excitedly as the three of them walked toward the stairs. Sam tossed one glance over her shoulder at Spencer, who flipped the page and held up a single drawing, drawn in vibrant red crayon: A heart. Sam's grin widened. That could only mean one thing…
He loves me! Sam thought. Maybe being a broken crayon wasn't so bad after all. It all just depended on who you were in the box with.