iFirst Time

I've got these memories, they're all of you and me….the first time that I saw your face, the first time that I spoke your name, the first time that we talked all night was the first time love made sense in life, the first time that I felt your touch, the first time I couldn't get enough, the first time that I heard you say there's a first time with me every day.

They're only nine when they meet.

He extends a hand for her to shake. "Fredward Benson."

"Weird name," She says flippantly, and stares at his hand, unsure of what she's supposed to do with it. "How about I call you Freddie?"

"I'm named after my grandfather," He announces importantly, then blushes as he sees she's not impressed.

She punches his shoulder. He winces, then tries to cover it up, seeing as he's not used to any sort of violence. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Your grandfather has a weird name too," Sam informs him, smirking. "Oh, and get used to it, wimp."

Wide-eyed, Freddie tell s her, "My mommy says wimp is a bad word."

"My mommy says wimp is a bad word," Sam mimics. "Well, my mommy says a lot worse, so I don't care. See ya, nerd."

The brunette doesn't even bother mentioning to her that his mommy says nerd is a bad word too.

It's the first time that the two of them meet and talk.


"What's up, nerd?" Sam spots the dork in the hallways during her fifth grade year. "You go to school here?"

"I told you that before," Freddie tells her slowly. "And don't call me nerd."

"Sorry, but I don't care," Sam grins. "And I wasn't listening. Whoops."

"Sam!" Freddie's temper flares.

Grinning, she replies, "So, sue me."

"Sue you?" Freddie draws out the words. "Do you even know what that means?"

Kicking her foot against the wall, she mutters, "No. I don't 'listen in class'."

"It means to file a lawsuit against another party-" Freddie begins to recite.

Sam rolls her eyes. "Blah, blah, blah. I stopped listening about a minute ago, guess that's why the teachers say I have ADD."

"Do you know what ADD is?" Freddie questions.

"No. And before you start giving me some long explanation, I don't care," Sam grins and kicks his leg. As he doubles over in pain, she walks off. "Have a nice life, Benson. I guess."


"Heard you're in love with Carly Shay," Sam says as she leans against the locker beside him (they're eleven, and think they're all big and bad).

Looking up at her with his dark brown eyes, he replies, "What of it?"

"Carly's my best friend," She warns. "And, as you know, I've got some pretty sharp offense moves…"

"Is that a threat, Puckett?" He raises his eyebrows.

Smirking, she tells him, "Look, I'm just warning you. Carly's not interested in dorks like you."

Without even taking offense at her statement, he answers, "And how would you know?"

"I told you," She growls. "We're best friends, Benson. I know what type of guys she likes. And you don't fall anywhere near her standard."

"I don't?" He pretends to look surprised. "Sam, I already know. I asked her out."

Laughing, Sam asks, "Out where? You're only eleven, nub. Too young to be asking people out."

"Yeah, well, I did," He says sheepishly.

Sam looks at him as if asking him to continue. "And?"

"And she turned me down, what do you think?" Freddie states simply. "We're only eleven, after all. I still have plenty of time to snag her."

"Snag her?" Sam is almost on the floor laughing by now.

"Yes!" Freddie glares at her. "What's your problem with that?"

"Sounds like something my grandma would say," Sam snickers.

Freddie laughs. "EW! Your grandma snags people?"

"My mom says you're never too old to date," Sam shrugs. "My family isn't the best. Anyway, so what's your plan?"

"I'm supposed to have a plan?" Freddie's eyes got a lot bigger.

Flicking his nose, Sam replies, "DUH. You've got to grow up a lot more and look a heck of a lot better before Carly wants to date you."

"Heck isn't a nice word," He objects.

"Is that what Fwedward's widdle Mommy told him?" Sam cooed. "Oh, well, who cares? Just get your act together, Benson."

Sam's homeroom teacher comes walking around the corner then, and Sam's eyes widen. "Uh oh. I gotta go, dork."

"You're in trouble again?" He frowns at her disapprovingly.

"When am I not in trouble?" She grins. "Cover for me, all right?"

It's the first time she's ever asked him for advice.

Ms. Leonard approaches him. "Have you seen the demonic blonde girl?"

"No," he lies, and he's shaking a little. His mom told him never to lie.

"Sam Puckett? Are you sure? We have sources that say you've been seen conversing with her," Ms. Leonard insists.

"No, I haven't seen her," He says it more firmly this time. "But maybe she went that way. I think her next class is somewhere around there."

"All right, thank you, Freddie," The teacher smiles and then takes off that way.

Freddie leans against the lockers, running his hand through his hair. What has he done? Sam Puckett's got him turning into a delinquent.

It's the first time she's had influence on him.


They're twelve when they both go to Carly's for the first time together. They've been separately, but never at the same time.

Things get awkward pretty fast when Carly has to go take a shower after Sam accidentally spills a drop of barbecue sauce onto Carly's shirt. Carly leaves with a warning: "Don't kill each other!"


"So, Fredward," Sam breaks the silence. "You come here a lot?" She laughs because it sounds like a cheesy pick-up line out of a cliché movie and no way does she want to pick up Freddie.

"Yeah, sometimes," Freddie tries to come off nonchalant. He leans back on the counter and falls on his butt.

Through snorts of laughter, Sam giggles, "Well, it doesn't seem to be helping your dork factor."

"Dork factor?" Freddie inquires.

"Yeah," Sam smirks. "You're still as dorky as before."

"Hey! That's offensive," Freddie protests.

Grinning, Sam replies, "Your point is?"

"Anyway," Freddie decides it's best to change the subject. "So, how's your... life going?"

"Amazing, Freddork, absolutely amazing," She rolls her eyes. With a head toss, she's facing him. "Gotten a college scholarship yet?"

He shakes his head. Why would she think that? "No. I'm only in seventh grade!"

"Well, with a dork factor like yours, I would've thought that the colleges would have been looking at you a long time ago." For once, she poorly disguises the jealousy, and it seeps through into her voice.

He jumps on the opportunity. In a teasing tone, he asks, "Jealous, Puckett?"

She punches his shoulder pretty hard. "As if."

"Aw, come on," He brushes her hand. She jerks it away and slaps it. With a look of pain on his face, he continues, "I'm sure you'll get into a college that's perfect for you. And I don't know why you're worried anyway. We're twelve."

"I'm not worried, you loser," she growls. "And I doubt they have a 'College for Meat-Loving, Violent, Lazy People'."

Freddie grins. "They could."

The blonde starts to reply, but Carly walks back in then. "So, are both of you still…alive?"

They both grin at each other, and groan in unison, "Barely."

It's the first time they've held a civil conversation….well, sort of.


They're thirteen when they start iCarly.

At school one day, Freddie approaches you. "Did Carly tell you about tonight?"

"She might have, but I forgot," Sam shrugs. "What's tonight?"

With a quick glare, he reminds her, "Tonight is iCarly rehearsal."

Sam rolls her eyes. "What do I care? I never go anyway."

"You should," He tells her.

"I should," Sam repeats. "But I won't."

He sighs. "Of course not."

"What's the problem, Frednub?" Sam inquires. "You get to do what you want, spend quality time with your beloved Carly. I get to do what I want, laze around, procrastinate on assignments, watch TV and eat ham. I don't see a problem."

"Well, I do," He shoots back. "You're not pulling your load."

She glares at him. "I told you from the beginning that I wouldn't. I don't see why you would expect any differently. I'm Sam Puckett, for cryin' out loud."

Freddie raises an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're saying that Sam Puckett is just a lazy loser who doesn't do anything and will never amount to anything in life?"

Scowling, Sam replies, "Of course not."

"You never pass up a dare, right?" Freddie asks her. When she nods, he challenges, "Well, how about this. I dare you to come to iCarly rehearsal."

"Fine," She mutters, staring at the ground. Her eyes trace patterns on his shoes.

His head shoots up. "Fine? You're actually going to do it?"

"Why not?" She sighs. "I'm not a wimp, I'll do it. But you owe me big time, Benson. I'm talking ham, and lots of it."

"Whatever," Freddie grins.

Her eyebrows shoot up. "You really want me to go."

"We could use your creative mind, Puckett," He smiles sweetly at her. "See ya at rehearsal."

She punches his shoulder. "Stop the cheesiness right now. I'm not Carly. See you."

It's the first time she's ever done something to make him happy (though she'd never admit it, she'd say it was because she was dared to) and the first time he'd ever complimented her.


They're fourteen when they finally become friends (of a sort).

Carly goes to visit her granddad in Yakima, leaving the two with only each other (and Gibby, but he's more of a last resort type of friend).

Sam appears in his doorway. "I'm bored."

Freddie stares at her, uncomprehending. "And you came here why?"

"Carly's in Yakima, loser," She shoves him out of the doorway. "Make me a sandwich."

"Why?" He inquires.

She shoots him one of her famous are-you-stupid looks. "Because I'm hungry, Freddork. Where's your remote?"

"So, let me get this straight," Freddie replies. "You're bored, so you come over to my house, command me to make you a sandwich, and plop down on my couch to watch TV?"

Nodding, she tells him, "Yeah, pretty much."

"Why am I friends with you?" He sighs.

She spins around quickly. "What was that?"

"Nothing," His eyes are wide, and Sam knows he's lying.

Sam grins. "You think we're friends?"

He lifts his eyes slowly, guiltily to hers. "Aren't we?"

"As long as I'm the pretty one," Sam smirks. "And the cool one, and the smooth one, and the awesome one, and the tough one…"

"How come you get all of the good ones?" Freddie pouts.

She frowns. "Fine. You can have the smart one. Well, book-smart. And the dorky one."

"Dorky isn't good!" Freddie complains.

They continue like that, playful bantering and fun, for another hour.

It's the first time they've hung out alone, and the first time they've admitted they're friends.


They're fifteen when they kiss.

It's one of the most awkward experiences of both of their lives, and even though they both swore never to bring it up again, one day when they're hanging out Freddie can't help it.

"Do you ever think about…" He trails off suggestively.

Her face turns red. "We swore never to speak of it, Benson!"

"Come on, Sam," He coaxes. "No one's here."

"Fine." With a determined face, she sits up. She tells him, "Yes, I do think about it."

He sighs. "So do I."

"Why?" She asks. "Why does it matter?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I guess it proves that we don't really hate each other. And we can go for fifteen minutes without fighting."

She smiles. "A new record, isn't it?"

"Well, we're not fighting right now," He points out.

It's quiet for a minute. Sam breaks the silence, as usual. "So, dork, you still aboard the Carly Train?"

"You sounded just like Reuben right then," Freddie points out, snickering.

She glares at him in a threatening way. "You know what I mean, dork."

"Yeah, I do," He sighs. What he's about to say isn't quite public knowledge, so he's unsure of whether to tell her or not. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

Laughing, she asks, "What? Is it some big secret? Ooh, Fredly's got himself a dirty little secret! It's about time! What, a secret girlfriend now?"

"NO!" Freddie's face turns red. "I just don't want it getting out."

"Who would I tell?" Sam's still laughing. "Gibby?"

The answer is obvious to Freddie. "Carly."

"Oh, yeah," Sam puts back on her serious face. "All right. I won't tell Carly, if you buy me a smoothie after this."

"Whatever," Freddie groans. "Anyway, I'm kinda over Carly."

Sam rolls over from where she's lying on his plush carpet. "Really? I didn't think it was possible. But why is that such a big secret, dumbo?"

"I don't know," He hangs his head. "Carly will start interrogating me if she finds out, though, so just don't tell her yet. I'll find a time to."

"The perfect time," Sam teases.

It's the first time that they're sure they don't hate each other. At all.

They're sixteen when they become even closer.

The two are pretty much at each other's houses all the time, hanging out without Carly more often than not, especially since their brunette friend recently began to date Gibby.

One day, they're sitting on the fire escape. Sam couldn't help but to comment, "Isn't this so cliché? Sitting on the spot of…well, you know."

"Hey," Freddie kicks her foot lightly. "You're the one who was all over the whole never speak of it thing."

"Who cares, loser?" Sam rolls her eyes. "We're a year older, a year more mature."

"And yet you still call me names like we're in kindergarten," Freddie smirks.

Nodding, Sam tells him, "And don't expect it to stop anytime soon. Freddork."

"Sam…jerk," Freddie retorts, then hangs his head in shame. "That was definitely pretty lame."

"So I don't even need to say anything then," Sam laughs.

"It would be nice if you didn't," Freddie scratches his head.

Putting her feet onto Freddie's lap, Sam whispers softly, "Hard to believe we're already sixteen."

"Hard to believe you actually got your driver's license," Freddie replies smartly. Sam punches his shoulder, and he rubs it. "Ow!"

"Come on, Fredly, be tough for once," Sam laughs. "That did not hurt."

Smiling a little, he replies, "True, it didn't really hurt."

"So," Sam wonders. "Are you and Carly going to start dating again?"

Sighing, he looks into her blue eyes. "Sam, I told you before- I'm over Carly."

"Oh yeah. Good, I won't have to stock up on my anti-nausea pills," Sam remembers, laughing a little. Then she seems to remember something else. "But wait, dork. You said you were over Carly before you and Carly dated, didn't you?"

Realizing his flaw in logic, Freddie explains, "Well, I was kind of over her, but I just dated her because it had always been my childhood dream, you know, to date her. I just wanted to see what it felt like, you know? But by the end of the relationship I was sure my feelings for her were strictly platonic."

"Nice," Sam mutters absently. For no reason whatsoever, she leans over and grabs his hand forcefully. Instead of causing pain as was normal, she simply intertwines her fingers with his.

He looks up at her. "What was that for?"

"Cause we're friends, stupid," Sam flicks his forehead in a gentle way.

Freddie simply smiles back. "Yep. We're best friends, aren't we?"

"I guess," Sam grins. "But if you tell anyone that, you're dead….Frednub."

They both laugh.

It was the first time they'd ever admitted that they were best friends…

(and the first time they'd realized that maybe they could be more)

A/N: Ooh, how was that? More of a friendship thing, mainly. But that's how I'd always imagined their friendship. Review and let me know what you thought!

Ooh, and I don't own iCarly. Or the song at the top, The First Time, by Family Force 5.

And I won't be updating anything for a while, I'm headed off to a volleyball tournament for 3 days. But once I get back I WILL update iAm a Teacher. I'm hoping for something interesting to happen there that I could add to the story!