Let's Take Back Time
In hindsight, she doesn't really know why she does it. It just seems like the thing to do at the time.
Because he's right there, his soft lips right in front of hers, so easily crushable, so easily kissable (and she hates to admit that that's what she's thinking about, because she's Sam Puckett and she doesn't do romance). But she does it, the thing she swore she'd never do- because she's in love with him, no matter how many times she tries to deny it.
Truthfully, she sort of wishes that she would fall in love with Brad, because Brad is easy. Brad is simple; Brad won't hurt her. Brad is not the guy that her best friend just might be in love with.
But Freddie? She's supposed to hate Freddie. They are coworkers, acquaintances at best, but nothing more. They kissed once, but it meant nothing, and now they're supposed to hate each other. Well, it meant nothing to him, and he probably hates her. But it meant something to her and she doesn't hate him, as much as she wants to.
Hence why she's standing here with her lips pressed against his.
Once she pulls away, it seems like there's only one suitable thing to say. "Sorry." Really, she is sorry. She's sorry that she's screwing his life up like this; she's sorry that there's nothing she can do to take back what's she's done. Most of all, she's sorry that she's fallen in love with him, because that was the worst decision of all.
"S'cool," Freddie replies, but it's obviously not, it's not. He doesn't love her; he just doesn't want to say it. And she doesn't want to hear it, either, so she does what she does best and runs away.
If only she could turn back time, life would be so much easier.
Carly's not happy. Is she ever?
As hard as Sam tries to tune her out, some words leak through to her brain. "Why didn't you tell me that you were in love with Freddie? How was I supposed to know? Do you take me for a mindreader, Sam? Honestly! It's Freddie, and now you've gone and kissed him, and what do you want me to say?"
"I want you to shut up," Sam mutters, but Carly obviously can't take a hint because she continues on.
"You guys would be really cute together, even I can see that much, but really, it's just the fact that you don't tell me anything about you and him! First, with the whole first kiss thing, and now, with this-" Carly rants, crossing her arms as if she's trying to be tough and failing.
"Look," Sam interrupts finally. "Shay, the reason I don't tell you anything about me and the dork is because you're so obviously in love with him, and me, I'm not even an option in his love life. That kiss- it was a mistake for both of us. Both kisses, actually. And I don't care about him. He's just an idiot."
Carly just stares at her, considering. Her tooth sinks into her bottom lip as she stares at Sam before she just shakes her head. "I can't believe you would think that."
"Yeah, well, I couldn't believe that you dated him in the first place," Sam rolls her eyes, hiding her feelings once again.
"I didn't know," Carly protests, nervously tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "How was I supposed to know that you were in love with him?"
"I thought we were best friends," Sam says with a shrug. "Guess I thought wrong, eh?"
With a scowl, she walks out of the room, banging the door shut behind her. She supposes it's time for another late night Girly Cow session- this time, without Carly.
She doesn't really have reason to be mad at Carly. After all, it was her own fault- her own idiocy- that got her into this situation. But really, she means it when she says that she doesn't want to see Fredward Benson ever again.
When, not five minutes later, she hears a knock on the door, she decides that the universe is against her.
Tugging at the bottom of her short shorts, she decides that she doesn't care (when has she ever?) and goes to get the door anyway. But her confidence shoots down about ten levels when she sees who's on the other side of the door.
"Benson, what the heck are you doing here?" She hisses, glancing down at her shorts and her exposed legs. "I thought I told you to leave me alone."
"Right," He says easily, slipping by her as if he's unafraid (and she's rather scared of his newfound bravery). "Because kissing someone is a signal that you want them to go away."
Clutching the collar of his stupid, dorky polo shirt, she pulls him to a bit away from her, because there's no need to get too close for comfort. "Do you want me to beat you up? Because I'm more than willing to do so, I'm not in the best of moods tonight."
"Go ahead," Freddie challenges, a nervous glint in his eye. "I'd like to see you try, Puckett."
Resisting the urge to spit all over his stupidly cute face, she drops his collar and staggers back as if she's the one being punched in the face. "Say anything and that cute little polo shirt of yours will be ripped to pieces."
"What's got you in a tiff, anyway?" Freddie asks cautiously, taking a step closer.
"Carly," She replies nonchalantly. "I sort of did some stupid stuff and ended up in a fight with Carly. And who says tiff, anyway?"
Ignoring her second question, he just shrugs at her. "You fought with Carly? Over what?"
The implication hangs heavy in the sudden silence between them, but she doesn't feel the need to voice it out loud. You. It's obviously him, though, even if it sounds weird to say that Carly and Sam are- were- fighting over Freddie.
Finally, he lifts his head up to look at her. "So you're in love with me?"
She doesn't look up, doesn't meet his eyes. Quickly, she gives a slight tilt of the head. Yes. What's the point in hiding any longer? He knows already, so she just relents.
Loudly, he exhales, making a bit of a whistling sound, and she doesn't understand how he can be such a dork even at a time like this. "I suppose it would suffice to say that I didn't see this coming."
"Neither did I, idiot," She replies, venom dripping from her voice.
But as he lifts up his head, she realises that he's trying to joke away the confusion in his eyes, the terror that that seems to be dripping from every pore of his body. Terror of love, terror of commitment. Sure, he'd been with Carly before- but as she and he both knew, it was obsession, not love. If there's one thing that the two of them have in common, it's their fear of love and commitment. Sam's finally faced up to her fear, but obviously he hasn't.
"I- I'm sorry," He mutters, staring at her before he turns and runs out the door.
She spends the weekend in the solitude of her own bedroom, ignoring Carly's calls and pigging out on Fat Cakes, because that's her coping mechanism. If she feels depressed, she eats, simple as that. But in the end, it doesn't really help her at all. In fact, it just makes her worse.
Sprawled out across her bed, she flips the channel, searching for a good show, when her phone rings again. Annoyed, she decides she might as well answer it this time. "Hello?" She says, spraying crumbs all over her phone on accident.
"Sam! I see you've finally decided to answer my calls," Carly's voice rings loud and clear, relief evident in her soft, sweet voice.
"I've sort of been busy," She replies, sounding a bit apologetic.
"Anyway, I'm sorry about before," Carly barrels on. "I shouldn't have tried to interfere in your love life. That's your business and your place to step up. I had no place in any of it."
Biting into her Fat Cake, Sam says with a full mouth, "No chiz."
"Well, what I called to say was that and that you should get your lazy butt up to my apartment this instant," Carly jokes. "Freddie's here, and, well, we haven't done anything together with just the three of us lately, so we thought it would be great if-"
Sam resists the urge to just hang up right there. She doesn't want to see Freddie, doesn't want to face up to this- but she has to, so she nods before realising Carly can't see her. "Okay. I'll be there."
"Great!" Carly chirps, but the line has already gone dead.
Everything at the Shay apartment is the same as Sam last saw it, which sort of scares her. Everything's changed- especially between her and Freddie- so shouldn't it be different? But no, everything seems to be in perfect order.
Biting her lip, she takes the elevator up to the fourth floor, where she peers through the door to see Carly and Freddie waiting for her- just like old times. As she walks through the door, she resists the urge to greet Carly and 'the dork', and instead plasters on a smile and waits for one of them to speak.
The first to break the awkward silence, as always, is Carly. She barrels toward Sam with arms wide open, wrapping Sam in a tight hug. But then she does the worst thing possible and informs Sam that she's going to go get snacks- leaving Sam alone with Freddie, and oh, the awkwardness is going to kill them both slowly.
Freddie finally just clears his throat. "So, how's it going?"
"Is it really possible that you would ask me that?" Sam inquires, her eyebrow shooting up. "Really, kid, I kiss you and inform you that I might, well, love you or some chiz, and then all you do is run away like the coward that you are? How do you think I'm doing? Perfectly fine? I've been at home, doing nothing but moping all weekend, how does that make you feel?"
He stares down at the ground. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, just cause you apologize, it's going to be alright?" Her tone becomes harsher with each word she speaks. "You can't fix this. You can't fix me."
He jumps to his feet and looks her in the eye, his determined brown eyes fixating on hers. "Well," he says, once he finds his voice. "I can try."
Then he's across the room in what seems like one fluid motion, and his lips are on hers and he's kissing her. Though he's not the best kisser- they're both not very experienced in this area at all- he's still Freddie so it's still special to her.
He pulls away once he hears footsteps, and she wipes her lips with the back of her hand, muttering something about 'nerd germs'.
But when Carly comes back in, it's back to their little game of pretending and denial.
He doesn't ever ask her out. He doesn't need to. It basically goes without saying that they're together in some weird sort of way- not necessarily dating, but not necessarily single either. Definitely more than friends, at the least.
It's a shock to everyone, most of all her- because if you'd told her a few months ago that this would be her life, being the somewhat-girlfriend of Freddie Benson, she definitely would've punched you in the face and told you that you're an idiot. Which she probably still would do now, but that's beside the point.
At times, it seems like things are moving too fast. At other times, it seems like they're moving too slow.
But as she punches him on the shoulder and tells him that he's a dork, and he turns around and smiles at her like she is his sun, she remembers why she did this.
And she remembers even more clearly as he kisses her gently on the lips, both of them unaware of the many gaping stares that they receive.
Because even if they're Sam and Freddie, even if they clearly were not meant to get together, they certainly wouldn't take back time and do things differently. There's a reason for everything, you know.
So there's certainly a reason for them.
A/N: Yeah. I did it. I wrote Seddie again. Whoop? O_O
Haha, yeah, it's still me- the artist formerly known as limegreenrocks. And I know this is a piece of crap, but it's an hour's work so. Yeah. I'm planning on writing a longer Seddie later. This is just an experiment to see if I should continue writing. A short little thing.
I know the plot's probably been done a thousand times before. Similarities are unintentional as I haven't read Seddie in forever. And if it's OOC, that's because I haven't actually watched anything past iGet Pranky except iOMG.
Read and review, please? If you want me to continue to write Seddie and all?