Title Where I Belong
Chapter (3/?) Noogies
Pairing Spam, Spencer/Sam
Rating PG13 - currently
Words 1145
Warnings none Spoilers Nada
Disclaimer All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show iCarly. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of devylish. devylish is in no way associated with the TV show iCarly and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.
AN unbeta'd

"So I was thinking that if you didn't mind, Lilah and I would crash here for two or three more weeks? I'm hoping one of the jobs I've interviewed for will have come through by then. And then the munchkin and I can find our own place and get out of your hair." She'd settled on the couch a foot or two away from him, propping her feet onto the coffee table in classic Sam fashion.

"You think you'll be ready to leave that soon?"

"Soon? A month and a half of an unwanted, unannounced guest AND baby? You'll be begging me to leave."

He smiled as she leaned forward and stole his bottle of River Dew off of the table. He teased, "Well, you, maybe, but Lilah's a pleasure to have around."

Sam swallowed her gulp of soda and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Nice to see you haven't grown up too much."

"I think being back here brings out the kid in me. There are memories in every corner of this apartment." She watched Lilah on her hands and knees rocking back and forth, not quite ready to crawl, but, oh so close.

not wanting to freak her out but needing to be honest, Spencer admitted: "Actually, it's been great having you here. You bring back some great memories for me too. And, damn woman! Can you cook!"

Sam grinned, for the past two weeks she'd taken over kitchen duties and Spencer had spent the whole time raving about the food. She may not have done a spectacular job in high school, but she could cook up a storm. And it was nice to have someone, other than herself to cook for."Wait till you see what we're having for dinner."

He groaned in anticipation before adding, "Tell you what, why don't you and Lilah plan on staying here indefinitely? I mean, you can look for an apartment if you want to, but, when you get a job, don't feel you have to rush out. You can even pay a little rent here if it makes you feel better." He glanced at her. He wanted her to stay. It was nice… really nice having someone in the apartment with him again. And Lilah, stinky diapers and all, the little girl was just amazing. "You can pay a little rent and feed me like a king."

Sam busted out laughing.


"King Spencer?"

This time, he stuck his tongue out at her.


Spencer ran in to the apartment slamming the door and calling excitedly for Sam at the same time. "Sam!"

"Yo… Saaaaammm!"


Sam came bounding down the stairs, baby monitor in hand, "Samster? Nuh uh, that one has to go."

"There you are!"

"Yup, here I am." She put the monitor down on the coffee table and peered at the clearly excited Spencer. "What's the what?" She plopped down on the couch.

"Remember Socko?"

"Of course I do. I actually kinda thought you and he were… uh… boyfriend and boyfriend for a while there."

Spencer stopped bouncing. "Socko? And me?"

Sam tilted her head to the side and shrugged.

"Socko and me? Me and Socko?" Spencer furled his brows and made a 'yuck' face. "I like girls, but even if I didn't like girls. Socko? So not my type. I'm more a Zac Effron or" he lifted his head in thought, "Neil Patrick Harris. He's good looking… and funny. He's a funn—" Spencer stopped speaking at the look on Sam's face. "But I reiterate, I like girls. Women." He waved his hands through the air in the shape of an hourglass figure. "Women." Sitting on the edge of the couch he shook his head, "How'd we get on this topic again?"

"You were excited and bubbling over with Socko news."

"Oh yeah. Yeah! So Socko knows this guy who knows this woman, who has a new restaurant, and she's looking for an assistant cook, and Socko thinks he can get you in for an interview. Or a performance, or whatever it is that cooks do to show other people that they know how to cook."

Sam sat up. "Are you kidding me?"

"Would I kid you?"

"I hope not. Not about food. Not about cooking." She stood up. "Seriously, are you kidding me?!"


"Spencer! That's great! That's amazing! I can cook! I mean, I can cook! So this, this would be a great job. I mean… what kind of restaurant is it? Where is it? When do I go? Oh God! What do I cook?"

"You're channeling Carly."

Sam stopped babbling and squirreled her eyes in Spencer's direction. "That…, was just mean."

He shrugged.

"Okay, for that, you're getting a nipple noogie." She slipped her hands in her back pockets. "You won't know when, you won't know where, but… yeah… there will be nipple noogieness happening."

Spencer lifted his hands to his nipples covering them protectively. "Can I take it back? The Carly comment? If I take it back will that make things better?"

"A ham sandwich might make it better." Sam sat back down and stretched out, feet on the coffee table.

"One ham sandwich coming up!" Spencer hopped up. "Uh, the number is in my bag, for the restaurant woman I mean."

As he headed into the kitchen to make them a snack, Sam clambered off of the couch and moved to the ratty leather satchel that Spencer seemed to carry with him everywhere. Digging through the bag she found pens, a couple of art magazines, a chocolate bar - which she confiscated, an X-men comic book, some loose wires and screws, and a sketch pad.

Assuming the number was in the pad somewhere, she started flipping through it.





She flipped through more pages impatiently before stopping on a page near the end of the pad. Another sketch. Only this one was different. It was a drawing of her. Her and Lilah, napping.

Her daughter was beautiful. She knew that, and she wasn't surprised to see that reflected in the sketch, but… the way Spencer had drawn Sam… the sketch of her? It was as if she was beautiful too. At least on paper. In his eyes.

"Oh wait, just a sec," Spencer came out of the kitchen, "I put her number in my pock—"

He froze at the sight of Sam holding his sketchpad. Crap!

"When did you do this?" Her voice was low and she didn't look up at him.

"A week or two ago." 6 days and 11 hours ago to be exact, but, who's counting?

Sam nodded her head and continued to stare at the drawing.

"Do… do you like it?"

Like it? Like it? It's beautiful! Amazing! Do you really see me – this way!? She finally looked up and smiled. "You don't have to worry about any nipple noogies any more."