Hello! This is my first fanfic, and I'm super excited! This story is extremely fluffy. You have no idea. But I'm writing the actual climax right now…enjoy! I'll update as soon as I can.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

CARLY POV
I wake up this morning to the beautiful music that sounded like someone was grinding up pencils in the blender. Which is probably what Spencer is doing right now. Argh.

I pull myself out of my bed and stare into my full length mirror. Sam would say, "You're still there, so stop looking!" if she saw me right now. I yawn and feel lazy, so I take the elevator downstairs.

The noise became louder when the elevator opened. I could hear chunks of things hitting the walls of the blender. Clunk clunk clunk! I sat at the island and glared at Spencer. It was, after all, 6 o'clock.

"What up?" he asked, grinning cockily.

"Nothin' much, just wondering why my brother is BLENDERING PENCILS AT SIX IN THE MORNING?" I replied, still giving him the evil eye.

He said nonchalantly, "Oh, you know, just making the most INSANE SCULPTURE EVER!" He started to chew on the end of an eraser.

"Ok... I don' t need to know any more." Still grinning, my big brother added some laundry detergent to the mixture. I turned and headed back upstairs.

Around ten Sam arrived. I'm just surprised that she was up so early on a Saturday morning. She was looking rumpled and messy, and she had a look on her face which pretty much translated into: I hate you so leave me alone.

"Hey, Sam! You know, we have to finish up that iCarly bit for tonight. You know, the one with the talking—"

"Yeah, yeah. You know I hate work, Carls, so you and Fredweird can do it."

I groan, but before I could respond Freddie walks into my apartment. He looks insanely happy, but then he saw my big brother. He stared at Spencer, who was now molding his pencil/laundry detergent mix around his feet. Freddie looks at me and I shrug. He shrugs. Sam shrugs about ten times, imitating us, then sticks her tongue out at Freddie.

"Sup, Fredweenie?"

Freddie replied, "Oh, nothing much, I just got an email from THE FIRST BOY."

Ok, I have no clue what he's talking about. When I look at Sam, she has no idea either.

"What?" we say at the same time. Freddie rolls his eyes. He sits on the stool next to the computer and asks,

"What if I told you that I just got an email from the President's son? AND what if he said that we could visit him for a week at the FREAKING WHITE HOUSE?"

Sam and I stare at each other for a second, and then we start to scream. Oh my gosh! The White House! The President! The President's son! We get to go and meet him! I just hope he's hot.

SAM POV
Holy chickens on a Popsicle stick. We get to go to the White House? Is Benson for real?

"Whoa whoa whoa. Tell Mama the truth. I know you wanted to get me back for pantsing you on iCarly. Are we really going to the White House?" I step up to him and look him in the eyes. I can find out when someone is lying. I know when they don't tell the truth. But when my gaze meets his, I feel dizzy and hot, and I suddenly look away.

He smirks and shows me his Pearphone. Sure enough, the email is signed Dylan Long.

Wow. We're going to DC.

-

So Dylan Long, President Long's son, is apparently a HUGE fan of iCarly. He recently contacted us about doing a show over at the White House, but then his dad said that we should stay in DC for a week. What a nice president we have.

His email explained that he would provide all transportation, including the expensive plane ticket. We would be staying for a week, seven days and six nights. Dylan would show us around town, and we could hold our first webshow in the capital of the United States. We would leave Seattle in two days.

"AHHHH! Sam! I'm so excited!" She runs up to hug me, (which I don't return) then grabs the nub in a hug, too. Usually, I can tell that Freddie relishes these moments of touching Carly, but now I see him looking at me. I stare at him for a second, but then tear my eyes away, feeling that fuzzy feeling again. How … odd.

-

CARLY POV
I have to be down in the lobby in four hours. My room is a complete mess, strewn with every single piece of clothing that I own. I have each piece sorted into its according color and style. I'm usually not like this, but hello, we're going to be meeting the president. And his son, which is even amazinger. Is that even a word?

I sit down and contemplate my love life. I have not had a boyfriend in about seven months. I am starving for love. And why not fall in love with the president's son? I have only seen a couple of pictures of him, but man, he is smoking.

I jump when the door of my room slams open.

"Carls! Spencer told me you've been in here for three hours! What are you doing?" Sam saunters in the room and starts yelling at me.

In response to her question, I gesture to the room filled with long sleeved shirts, jean skirts, patterned tops, and Penny Tees.

Sam slumps down on my ice cream sandwich ottoman.

"You are insane. Since when did you become all clothes-crazy?"

I shrug. "We're going to meet the President, Sam. We can't just wear high-tops." I point at her high top Converses. She does a little crazy tap dance then asks,

"Where's Freddi- uh, Fredwierd?" I notice she was about to say Freddie, but then she didn't. Hmm.

"He said he'd be over about an hour before we leave." I hold up a purple top with sequined stripes and gently fold and tuck it in my bag.

"Oh, ok. Hey did you see that new video that was sent into iCarly? The guy can prank someone like no one's business."

"Sam! Don't even say the word 'prank' in my house. I do not want THAT to happen again." She laughs and gets up to leave.

"I gotta go, Carls. I need to pack enough Fatcakes to last me a week. You know these lame presidents value nutrition."

I smile and she leaves. I pick up a short ruffled skirt and toss it in my closet.

Love it? Hate it? PLEASE review. I need to see if I need to change anything.