A/N: This is more of a dialogue piece than anything. I don't really like this chapter, I think I could've done better but alas I cannot and will not work on it anymore lol Hope you enjoy anyway, as always feedback is much appreciated :)
"It's a war in your bedroom baby I cut my tongue for just a taste of a piece of your flesh, my darling, I got no time to hesitate."
Freddie hates her now. Not that he didn't hate her before, but this was different. Now he actually coils his fists when he sees her. Ok – not when he sees just her. More when he sees her with Justin whatever-his-stupid-name-is and they're usually attempting to eat each other's faces.
It used to be his face she'd try to eat.
And that sounded wrong even in his head. He walks into Carly's front living room and there they are again. Sam is straddling the sandy blonde boys lap, her hands roaming to places that Freddie really doesn't want to think about.
"Am I interrupting?" he asks loudly, slamming the front door behind him. He hears the boy growl, and Sam glances up, meeting his eyes. She has the fucking nerve to smile.
"Not at all Fredweird, please join us," she seethes, hopping off Justin's lap. "We're watching a film."
"Dumb and Dumberer?" he queries, faking a smile.
"More like Arma-get-it-on man," Justin interjects, licking his lips as he stares at Sam's chest. Freddie really doesn't like this jerk.
"Thought you'd be more into something like Jackass," Freddie mutters, walking towards the stairs. Justin doesn't catch it; still too busy staring at Sam, who now perches on the other side of the sofa. She watches as Freddie disappears up to the ICarly studio and has the compulsion to follow him and berate him for his snide remarks. She excuses herself to Justin and leaps up the stairs, two at a time.
"Oi Dorkface," she calls out stopping him in the hallway, "You wanna try being nice to my boyfriend?"
"Let me think....nope. Don't really want to."
"Ok let me put it this way. Leave us alone or my fist will be permanently stuck in your gut," she says through clenched teeth.
"Get over yourself Sam, I'm not following you about, nor do I care what you do with the sleezeball on the sofa. Whatever STD you catch is completely your problem."
He's rewarded with a sharp slap to the cheek, and although he's quite used to Sam's physical abuse this feels different. He lets out a dry laugh and turns his head back to her.
"Get laid Benson," she growls, "Oh wait I forgot. No girl with half a brain can control that gag reflex when looking at your face let alone do anything else."
"I distinctly remember you as little as two weeks ago working around that just fine."
There was a beat, as her stomach did a little flip thinking about Fredward Benson beneath her in his car. She really hated that stupid feeling. And the more time that went by, the more it seemed to only exacerbate it.
"Lapse of judgment, mental illness, I have number of excuses, all plausible."
"Whatever gets you to sleep at night Puckett."
"I have a boyfriend. I don't sleep at night anymore," she smirks, winking. He presses his tongue to his teeth, desperate to scream out at the blonde in front of him. Instead he flashes another tight lipped grin and turns as he hears footsteps in the hallway.
"Hey guys," Carly smiles sweetly. She looks pretty today, Freddie thinks absently, forgetting momentarily anything that is of any relation to Samantha Puckett. "We ready to start rehearsals?"
"Sam is busy doing other things," Freddie tells a confused Carly.
"Oh shut up Dickwad, I'm ready Carls," Sam sighs, turning and walking into the studio.
"Erm Sam, are you forgetting the boy on my sofa?" Carly asks, tentatively following her best friend inside.
"He'll be fine."
"Treat 'em mean and keep 'em keen?" Carly laughs.
Both girls turn sharply at the sound of Freddie's laughter bouncing off the studio walls.
"Got something to say Benson?"
"Not a damn thing," he replies still chuckling. She frowns, watching as he unloads his equipment.
"Whatever, so guess what?" Sam breathes, smiling brightly at Carly.
"What?" Carly giggles.
"Justin's brother works on the door of Coyote Ugly in town."
"So he's willing to let us in tonight, no questions asked," Sam winks, her grin playful.
Freddie turns to see Carly do that adorable little lip biting thing she does when she's nervous.
"I dunno Sam, that's a club, like an over 21's club, if Spencer found out...."
"How's he gonna find out? You say you're staying at mine...."
"And you tell your mum you'll be at mine?" Carly finishes.
"Well no. I was just gonna tell my Mom I was going to a club."
Both friends look at the blonde, Carly disapproving, Freddie just astounded of the very few people that actually give a crap about her.
"C'mon Carly," she whines, grabbing her friends arm and swinging it. "Remember how I covered your ass when you skipped class to make out with Peter Langdon?"
"Carly!" Freddie chastises, startled by the revelation.
"Oh get over it Benson, just cos you're not getting any," Sam spits out.
"Oh shut up titface," he retorts, in what is probably one of his least classy moments.
Carly stands between her warring friends, believing that anytime now they'll remember she's here. Yup, anytime...
Ok maybe not.
"Guys!" she interjects finally, glaring at them both. "What is wrong with two of late?"
"Carly," Freddie walks over to the brunette, pulling her away from Sam, "You can't actually be considering going to this club. You're 17."
"I think she's big enough to make her own decisions," Sam says, arching her eyebrows.
"Did it look like I was talking to you?" he snaps.
"Freddie," Carly breathed, reaching out for his forearm, "Listen. I think I'm gonna do this for Sam. I mean what's the worst that can happen right? It's not like one night in a club is going to forever tear down my moral standards or anything. Plus. It might be fun."
He rolls his eyes, and turns away defeated while Sam lets out a squeal of delight.
"Thank you, thank you," she says hugging her friend tightly, "It's gonna be so much fun!"
"You coming Freddie?" Carly asks.
"Oh don't ask the Dork," Sam pouts, glaring at him.
"I will. But only cos someone needs to look out for Carly. Don't want you dragging her down to your level do we?"
"Oh get bent."
"Guys," Carly warns, a little more firmly this time. "I'm just gonna run downstairs and grab my phone, can you two not kill each other while I'm gone?"
"I can't promise anything," Sam mumbles, shuffling her feet off the floor boards. Carly frowns, before winking reassuringly at Freddie. "It's ok," she mouths silently. He nods, forcing a smile. He waits until he feels she's safely out of earshot.
"Any chance you can tone down the crazy so she doesn't suspect anything?"
"Any chance you can stop pissing me off any time soon?"
"You're a dick."
"You're a wench."