pairings: seddie subtext
summary: When Freddie's mom drags him to his yearly visit to Santa, he's in for a troubling surprise...
author's notes: Hey, evil little plot bunny, jumping around my head and not letting me work on the multi-chapter story I promised over twitter. Are you happy now?
disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, or any of the characters/brands/trademarks mentioned within. But if I did... oh, the things I would do.
It was fifteen days til Christmas, and the mall was extremely crowded. Freddie Benson and his mother were in the middle of that crowd, in a sectioned off area that was directly behind a large red curtain.
They were there for a very special reason. To visit Santa Claus, of course!
"Come on, Freddie, put on your hat!" Marissa Benson is saying brightly, and doesn't wait for a response as she shoves the Santa hat over his head.
"Mom! You're already making me visit Santa," he pulls the hat off his head, shoving it back at his mother. "Don't make me wear the hat."
"Oh, Freddie." She sighs, and clucks her tongue. "You're turning into such a little rebel! It's probably Sam's influence," she makes a face, and hands Freddie the hat. "Now put on your hat, dear."
He almost argues back, but with a sigh, decides to give up. It just wasn't worth it, and anyway, if he pushed it, who knows what crazy passive-aggressive method she'd use to punish him? (Last Halloween, she'd gotten him a cowboy costume. He refused to wear it, and went as a zombie instead. She made him eat broccoli and wheatgrass soup for dinner for two weeks.)
He puts the hat on, and fidgets awkwardly as he glances around at his surroundings. His mom stands besides him, humming cheerfully, and there are children. Many of them. Some are staring. He seems to be the only person older then ten and younger then thirty standing in the line to see Santa.
This is definitely the last year I let Mom drag me here, he thinks. He was sixteen, and too old to be sitting on some fat man's lap. Let her threaten to not give him any presents and feed him healthy food. He could survive.
A bell starts to ring then, interrupting his thoughts, and the red curtains are pulled open by a rather sullen looking boy dressed as an elf. Some of the assorted children and parents clap, and some cheer. Freddie scowls.
There are about twenty-odd people in front of them, and the line moves quickly. When Freddie and his mother reach the teenager overseeing the line, he gives Freddie an amused look and probably his first real grin of the day. Freddie rolls his eyes, and motions to his mother. "She's crazy," he whispers rather frantically, while she signs for the deluxe photo package ("Free snow-globe with purchase!" she exclaims, rather gleefully) and pulls him forward.
Then of course, his worst nightmare decides to make it's appearance. Because visiting Santa at the age of sixteen with your insane mother just isn't enough torture.
Sam Puckett appears in front of him. In her short-skirted green elf costume, and with a cute red bow atop her head, she doesn't look like a vicious demon. But Freddie knows better, and he shrinks back instinctively.
"Hiding behind mommy, Benson?" She asks with a smirk. "I didn't know you worked at the mall, Sam!" His mother sounds very surprised, and he doesn't blame her. He's surprised, too.
"I needed some extra cash for Christmas," she says with a shrug. "Now follow me. Santa's lap waits for no man - or boy." She herds them over to the photography station, and pushes him in the direction of Santa. She leans in close to whisper to him, and her hair brushes his cheek. "Have fun, Fredchilada." That was a new one.
She then moves over to the camera. "Now sit on Santa's lap, little boy, and tell him what you want for Christmas!" She calls out cheerfully, and he glares at her. His mother gestures at him to follow orders, and reluctantly, he does. Sitting upon the fat man's lap, he actually hears the man groan from his weight.
"Aren't you a little old for this, son?" Santa asks, not sounding jolly at all. "My mom made me, okay? She's insane, this is ridiculous, I get it. Let's just smile for the camera and get this over with," Freddie forces a smile onto his face, and the camera clicks several times in succession.
"Cute, Freddie. I'm sure everyone at school is going to love them!" Sam calls out from her position from behind the camera, and Freddie winces as he gets up. "I bet I know what he wants for Christmas," he can hear Santa chuckle from behind him, but he ignores it.
Sam hands his mom a piece of paper, and directs her to the register.
As he trails behind his mom in the direction of the register, he feels a sense of relief. The nightmare is almost over. Then Sam snickers from behind, and he realizes that it is only the beginning. He will never live down these Santa pictures if she spreads them around the school. He can't let her do it.
His mom pays for her pictures, and receives her free snow-globe. Before they leave, though, Freddie has one final thing to do.
She turns, and sneers at him. "What do you want, Fredward?"
He snaps a picture of her with his cell phone, and her eyes widen in surprise.
"I just wanted to say, cute outfit." He gives her a smirk of his own, before turning and running. He's just gotten the upper hand, which doesn't happen very often, and he doesn't want to have the moment ruined by Sam tackling him and smashing his phone to pieces.
It really was a cute outfit, anyway.