"Ouch!" eleven-year-old Hannah Crandle cried. "Mom, Michael pulled my hair!"

"Don't torment your sister, Michael," Carly scolded.

"But she called me a fat idiot!" Michael, who was twelve, whined.

"You can't let her get to you, Mike," Jake advised. "As her brother, you should be nice."

"Well, he can be nice to me all he wants," Hannah said snidely, "but I am never going to be nice to him."

"One day you'll realize you love your brother, Carly warned her middle child. "And your little sister, too."

Eight-year-old Natalie grinned brightly at the mention of her name.

"But everybody loves me!" she shouted and threw her arms up in the air.

"Yes, they do!" Jake agreed and turned around to smile at the youngest Crandle.

"I'm hungry," Michael complained. "Are we there yet?"

Hannah rolled her big, brown eyes that exactly mirrored Carly's.

"We've been in the car fifteen minutes, and the restaurant if forty-five minutes away from home," she informed, using a matter-of-fact tone. "Of course we're not there yet, smart one."

"Excuse me for asking, Miss Genius. Why do they have to live far away, anyway? And why couldn't they drive down to us?"

"Because they drove down to meet us last time," Natalie explained, thinking she was just as clever as her older sister. "It was our turn. I know because I asked Mommy the same question already."

Frustrated, Michael clicked his tongue.

"Jeez, I didn't know being a boy in this family could be so hard."

"You and me, bud," Jake chuckled. "These women are great, but they sure are smart."

Michael merely snorted and put in his headphones to listen to his Pear Pod.

***********************

Natalie tapped on Carly's shoulder lightly. There was something she had been itching to tell her mother, and she figured now would be the best time.

"Katy Fielding's birthday party was today," she informed.

"That's nice, honey," Carly said, unsure of where this conversation was going. "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Because I wasn't invited."

Carly could feel her heart sink because she could fully understand her daughter's pain.

"I'm sorry," she showed her sympathy. "Do you know why you weren't invited? Katy is such a nice girl. Maybe there was a limit on invitations."

She winced, knowing how horribly insensitive the logic was.

"Well, I used to think she was nice, too, but now I think she's dumb and mean. And she didn't invite me because she said I'm too tough for a fashion show party. That's why I've been wearing all that itchy, pink stuff you buy me for Easter and all that. Tough is a bad thing."

"Natalie Samantha Crandle! You are named after two of the toughest people I ever knew, and one of them wasn't invited to too many parties because she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. Wouldn't you rather be yourself than be like everyone else?"

Little Natalie looked like she was considering this, and then her similar eyes opened wide.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "but which person were you talking about? Samantha or Natalie?"

"Samantha," Carly said with a small smile.

She sighed, thinking of her mother, Natalie. She would have been honored to have a granddaughter named after her, but sadly, Mrs. Shay had been killed in a car accident when Carly was only seven years old.

As much as her youngest daughter resembled her, Carly saw much more of her would-be grandmother in Natalie. To top it off, she was a fighter, just like Carly's mother.

Hannah, on the other hand, was the spitting image of Carly. They had the same long, straight almost black hair and the same petite build. Both of them had kind dispositions, gentle senses of humor, and open minds.

Michael, surprisingly, looked almost exactly like Jake, but he had Shay eyes- big and chocolate colored. He had blonde hair, which could fall shaggy, but Carly and Jake wouldn't have it that way. Another trait Michael and his father shared was being a popularity magnet. Already, as a sixth grade boy, girls looked at him longingly. He had plenty of friends, and he was the leader of the pack. But something Michael picked up from neither of his parents (and certainly not his Uncle Spencer) was his athletic ability. Of all the sports, there wasn't one he couldn't play in a fair manner. His strongest sport was baseball, which Carly assumed sunk into his brain as an infant because Jake loved to watch the sport.

Kids were crazy, but they were totally worth Carly and Jake's time.

*********************

They pulled into a parking lot and laughing, Jake informed, "We're here now. Still hungry, Michael?"

"Yeah, but they take forever to get the food to you," he sneered. "Let's get out of the car so we can get it faster."

As they parked the car and got out, Hannah met up with Carly and muttered, "What is with boys and their constant need of food?"

Carly saw a familiar, blue Volvo pull into the parking lot, and she chuckled.

"Trust me, Hannah, it's not just the boys who need to eat all the time."

The Volvo stopped, and Sam and Freddie Benson got out of the car, accompanied by their two children. The two of them made such a wonderful couple, and everyone knew they'd eventually see past their differences and get together. It had been twenty years total, just like Carly and Jake.

"Hey, Carls," Sam greeted her best friend. "What's up?"

"I'm okay," Carly replied. "These children are nuts, though. Natalie didn't get invited to a birthday party because she's too tough, Michael is insanely hungry, and Hannah wants to know why boys always want food."

Snickering, Sam looked fondly at her godchildren.

"Now, I know Hannah's yours, but are you sure Natalie and Michael aren't mine?"

Carly hit her and squealed, "Sam! They're so my kids. Look at their eyes!"

"Gosh, you're so defensive," Sam snorted.

She turned around and shouted to her husband, "Fredweird! Come over here and say hi to Carly and Jake!"

Freddie, who had gotten to be very muscular and less of a weakling mentally, walked out from behind the car to meet his wife and his best friend. Oh, and his best friend's husband who he barely cared about at all, but if Carly liked him, he must be okay.

"Sorry, babe," he apologized to Sam and kissed her calmly on the lips. "One of the guys at the Pear Store was having a little trouble with one of the computers."

He turned to Carly and said, "Hi! How're you?"

"Pretty good," she answered. "Sam's convinced that Michael and Natalie are your kids rather than mine."

Freddie made an uncomfortable face and winced.

"No thanks," he denied. "Two's enough for us."

"Daddy!" a girly with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes tapped Freddie on the shoulder. "I need your help!"

Grinning at his oldest child, Freddie said, "Emma, what is it?"

"Tyler tied his shoelaces together, and now neither of us can get them undone," she informed her father. "Can you get them untied?"

"You're eleven years old, Em. Can't you do it yourself? I'm visiting with Carly."

"But we have all night to do that. Daddy, please help me out."

Her eyes, that looked so much like Sam's weakened Freddie, and he gave in to Emma's plea.

While he rolled his eyes, Emma beamed radiantly and led Freddie to the backseat of the car. Taking a good look at the vehicle, Carly wondered how Sam ever ended up driving a Volvo rather than a pick up truck or an Italian sports car. Either sounded appropriate for her, but never a Volvo- the safest car in the history of existence.

"What a daddy's girl," Sam marveled at the charm Emma held over Freddie. "Rarely comes to me for assistance. Just Freddie. And Tyler hasn't become my boy or his, and I don't see him doing that any time soon."

"It's cute," Carly gave her insight. "Maybe she'll grow out of it a little."

"Carly, she's eleven. Don't you know that eleven is psychologically the number of times you have to do something to become completely used to it? I'm done for as her go-to parent."

Wrinkling her nose, Carly questioned, "Since when do you know about psychology?"

"Eh, back when we were in college, Freddie studied it, and that's one of the very few things I remembered."

Typical Sam. She hadn't changed in the nearly thirty years Carly had known her. She was still aggressive, tough, and brave with the same love of food. Due to that fact, she'd become a chef, making pretty good cash, but not as much as Freddie. He went on to work for the Pear Company, improving their materials and thinking up new ideas for gadgets.

"Should have known being a button pushing monkey would lead to some pretty nice shit," Sam remarked one day as Freddie discussed his job with Jake, who was a musical record producer.

Not long after being dragged off by Emma, Freddie came back with her, along with Tyler, Sam and Freddie's seven-year-old son.

"Say thank you to your father, Emma," Sam scolded.

"But I did!" she fussed. "Mom, you are so paranoid."

She rolled her eyes and walked over to Hannah, her best friend and mostly cousin based on the relationship of their mothers.

"Emma hates me," Sam wondered aloud. "I sweat, she loves everyone else in this family but me."

"Oh, Sam, don't be dense," Freddie said. "She loves you, but she's a preteen girl. The mother is the enemy."

Blinking her eyes rapidly, Carly figured it was best not to mention that she and Hannah still had a very close relationship. But as much as they were alike in personality, they were very levelheaded, making it easier to get along.

On the other hand, Emma and Sam were hotheaded and just alike, making it very difficult. But Carly knew it would upset her, so she simply let it go.

**************************

They walked into the restaurant, and once they were seated, the adults noticed a short man, only about two years younger than they were, experimenting with one of the newest Pear Phones that Freddie helped conceive. But they all looked at each other, mouths agape, when he revealed his face.

"Is that Nevel?" Freddie asked with a small chuckle.

"What the hell kind of name is Nevel?" Michael asked in a low, bothered voice.

"Michael Spencer, don't use that kind of language when you're twelve," Jake reprimanded him. "Wait until you're thirteen."

Happily, Michael smiled, and Carly screeched, "Jake!"

"What?" he laughed. "Everything happens at that age."

Everyone still stared at the could-be Nevel, and the suspicions were raised higher when a boy, about ten, sat next to him. He looked like Nevel did when he was a bit older than that… completely. This boy looked more like Nevel than Hannah looked like Carly and Emma like Sam.

"Not now Archie," the possible Nevel hissed. "Oh, dear God, you're filthy! We'll have your mother run a bath when we get home."

Sam slowly nodded and chuckled, "Yeah, that has to be Nevel. Who else names their kid Archie and says that he'll have his mother 'run a bath'?"

"Not us, that's for sure," Freddie teased, massaging Sam's shoulders. "Whenever Tyler's sticky with ice cream residue or Emma's got dirty knees from playing baseball, I say I'll have Sam hose them down in the backyard."

"We're not that cruel, Dork," Sam objected, twisting away from her husband's hold. "At least these kids are growing up with a working shower. Not like me."

Emma peered over Sam and observed Archie curiously, which worried her parents as well as Carly.

"The kid seems lonely," she mused. "Should I go talk to him or something?"

"Negative, baby doll," Freddie held Emma back by her arms. "Grandma Benson would go ape shit if she found out you were fraternizing with the kid of someone who tormented me when I was younger."

"I talk to Tyler."

"He's your brother."

"Mom tormented you when you were younger, and you married her."

Freddie laughed and thought of all the arguments he found himself into whenever he was with Sam. She'd beat him up, throw things at him, and embarrass him to no end. Thinking back, it was actually funny.

"That's different," he made an excuse. "Your mother and I were always in love, and my mom always knew it. When I finally admitted to your mom that I loved her, your grandma was totally okay with it."

"Yeah, but first she had to give me the third degree to see if I had any STDs or dirty fingernails!" Sam exaggerated.

"ST- what?" Emma questioned.

Carly knelt down, held her hands, and quietly said, "You'll find out soon enough."

Shrugging, she chuckled, somewhat amused with what had just gone on.

"You're so sappy, Dad. So, should I go over to talk to that kid or not?"

"Nope, bad idea," Jake assured. "Carly's told me some god awful stories, and who knows that this kid picked up."

With one last sigh, Emma turned and looked at Archie, wondering if she'd ever see him again.

*******************************

At the table, over drinks of Mocha Cola and Wahoo Punch for Tyler, the look alike was proven to be Nevel when he stood up to reveal a black bag reading Papperman's Haberdashery.

"Whoa," Carly exhaled and chortled at the same time. "Looks like Nevel got his lifelong dream after all."

Tyler tugged on Sam's age-old Dirty Shirty tee and whined, "Mom-my! Mom-my!"

"Yes, baby?"

"Nobody has said anything to me!"

Everyone laughed at the little boy's discovery, and Michael leaned over and murmured, "Now you know how I feel, little man."

More laughs. When the waitress came by to take their orders, she furrowed her brow at the adults, curious as to who they were. Not one of them could believe it, considering it had been almost twenty years.

"I know who you are!" she exclaimed. "You're the iCarly crew! I was a big fan. I watched every week!"

"Cool," Carly remarked. "But how did you remember us? It's been eighteen years since we've done a show."

"Oh, you still look as young as you did then."

She examined them further, and starting with Sam and Freddie, she began to speak again.

"You're Sam and Freddie," she pointed out what everyone else already heard. "Last I heard the two of you got married. About time!"

They blushed and Sam introduced Emma and Tyler.

"Wow," the waitress breathed. "I assumed your kids would look like Freddie because he has brown hair and brown eyes. How did that happen?"

No one said anything, but Freddie looked down at the floor, embarrassed by the woman's words. It was the first time he'd heard that… this week.

"And you," the woman pointed at Carly, "you're Carly. But I don't recognize your husband. Who's he?"

"Umm, this is Jake Crandle," she said. "He played guitar and sang on one of the early shows, but he never came on again after that. The other three kids here are ours."

"Beautiful children," the waitress admired. "But I'm sorry I took up your time practically obsessing over you. What I can I get you for dinner?"

She walked away after everyone's orders had been placed, and once she was out of earshot, Sam lazily smiled.

"What?" Jake asked in response to her expression.

"You know what we're going to get out of this one, right?" she inquired.

"No, what?" Carly asked.

"Free food."

They all shared another laugh, and Carly looked around at her family and friends. This was all they wanted before, whether it took a while to realize it or they'd known it all along. Everything was wonderful.

A/N: Okay, so there are a couple things I have to clarify. I wrote most of this on a trip in the car, so I could have focused more clearly, but I liked the way it turned out. Sorry there was so much Nevel. And I know I have Carly's mom named Natalie and in iWant My Website Back, she makes up Great Aunt Natalie, so let's just pretend that never happened. If you liked, please review!