Title: Vanilla Twilight

Overview: Sam is not the easiest girl to fall for.

Rating: T for now. Subject to change.

A/N: There's seven chapters to this one, all written already so this should be all posted by the end of this week/early next. I was considering posting it all together, but I want to heavily edit future chapters. I know I've been on hiatus for a while, stupid life and exams getting the way, but I've had some time so I wrote this. Reviews are love :) This seems a lil OCC to me but believe it or not the whole process of the Sam/Freddie development in this one is pretty slow. I just sort of enter at a point where Freddie is just about to realise he's likes Sam. Oh this is also set when they're about 17. Allows me to be a little more grown up with the characters.

i. And the garden snake was charmin'/and Eve said let's give it a try/Lord lead us not into temptation/well Eve is the apple of my eye

His mother would not approve. No, she certainly would not. In fact he's pretty sure she would attempt some sort of cleansing ritual if she ever found out. He can't really blame her though; he was very nearly about to attempt something similar when he found out. It happened very suddenly, in the middle of a very ordinary day, under very ordinary circumstances. He remembers evaluating her from across the table in the school yard, roughly biting into a bright green apple and thinking how very un-ordinary Samantha Puckett was. Her hot pink Blondie t-shirt clashed garishly with her red plaited mini skirt, her legs wrapped in cherry decorated leggings. A rainbow hair band highlighted her slightly frazzled curly blonde hair (she had mentioned something about a bush and falling earlier), and a delicate set of black frames sat perched on the end of her button nose. He blames those glasses. Those new additions to her features making her seem that little bit more mysterious and, dare he say it, smart. He could tell she hated them. She itched her nose repeatedly, daring to remove them once in front of Carly who reprimanded her with a sharp slap to the back of the head. She ducked low rubbing the spot her friend had hit.

In doing so she caught his gaze and her lips curled into a snarl.

"What you looking at Benson? You think I won't share the pain?"

He had gotten very good at shaking her off. He thought that sometimes she believed he was too pitiful to mock or beat up, so he mumbled something about his lunch tasting funny and pushed it determinedly around his plate. He knew that if he dared to look back he would've met a narrowed set of blue eyes, and could almost feel her pointed stare. He counted to ten, and sure enough when he looked back up she had forgotten about him, instead now picking on the skin of her apple.

It was not that he did not wonder what his fascination with the blonde haired demon was; it was that back then he tended not to dwell on it. Half of him was afraid he'd uncover some sort of odd S&M fetish lurking deep within, the other half afraid he'd unearth a perfectly normal, teenage attraction.

He still isn't exactly sure which one scared him the most.

His eyes traced down the bridge of her nose, to her full red lips curled around the core of the apple. He often wondered why his teenage hormones dictated that he must focus on them as often as he did, and often thinking of them in a variety of different situations, doing a wide array of colourful things. Glancing around at the male population of Roosevelt High, he realised he was not the only one to dutifully note the desirability of such a female feature. He also strongly suspected that he was also not the only boy to notice the desirability of this feature particularly on Samantha Puckett. Yes it was no secret that Sam, despite her vicious temper and glaringly bad manners, had a large and diverse following of admirers, all willing to overlook her little idiosyncrasies in an attempt to find the delicate flower within. However Fredward Benson was probably the only boy to realise that such a flower did not exist. At least not in Sam Puckett. She bit down on the apple hard, her teeth sinking into the firm fruit as she pulled it from its core. Freddie winced subconsciously, shifting in his seat. The sharp and sudden movement did not go unnoticed by his two female friends sitting across the table, both watching him curiously.

"What? Seriously? Do I have like spit on my chin or something?" Sam asked, gesturing towards the gaping boy in front of her, "What's the nub staring at?"

Freddie did find it mildly insulting that she chose not to address him directly, it sort of added to the distinct lack of respect she showed him. But he also realised that he had indeed been staring unabashedly at his frienemy for quite some time that lunch. Her confusion was perhaps a little justified. Carly smiled and shrugged, glancing back towards Freddie.

"Oi Fredlumps," Sam shouted, throwing the remainder of her apple at his forehead. It hit with a resounding clap and slid down onto his lap. He simply stared at the core, his body struggling to catch up with his head. As a result, his delayed reaction provoked a nervous chuckle from Sam, who gazed at him, disbelieving.


"Freddie, are you ok?" Carly giggled nervously, jumping out of her seat and making her way to his side. He felt flustered by her attention, as she pressed the palm of her soft hand to his forehead and pushed back his hair. "My God, you're like burning up."

He batted her hand away, shaking his head and rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm fine, I just spaced out."

"Wow, it's finally time to call in the men in the white coats huh Frednerd?" Sam gave him a lopsided grin, extending her long legs onto the table top. He groaned inwardly as her skirt rose ever so slightly up her hips, her eyes a hazy blue as she watched him with a relentless determination. He knew in that moment, if Sam gave any inclination that she may indeed not gag at his touch, he would take her then and there. He imagined doing all sorts of not so gentlemanly things; ravishing her, touching her. He could almost hear her moans, her cries as he touched her over and over, scratching her long cat like nails down his back, doing the wild things in bed only Samantha Puckett would do. Because God knows, Sam was wild.

He leapt to his feet, nearly knocking his tray to the floor and making Carly jump back in fright. He could feel his neck burning red, all the way to his ears. Sam may have furrowed her brow but her grin widened, chuckling at Freddie's absurd behaviour.

"Dude, who replaced your cereal with crazy flakes this morning?"

"I...I got to go," he stammered, gathering his backpack and escaping inside. He kept running until he found the boys bathroom, specifically the cold water tap, and splashing some on his face.

He knew he was starting to become obsessive.

With Sam Puckett. Sam Puckett and her striking beauty, coupled with a fierce temper he would never see the likes of again.

Freddie had become conditioned by his mother to believe that any thought of an impure nature was simply wrong. He cannot think of touching her, he was not allowed to, yet it was all he thought of. It was new territory, something he was unfamiliar with. A compulsion that outweighed sense.

This territory was dangerous, irrational.

And, he resolved, had to stop.

So do we like? Should I post the rest? Should I abandon my studies and go in search of tap dancing legend and all round hottie Adam Garcia?.....Wait. That was a question for my therpist. Never mind :P

Push the button, make me smile.