*A/N: A lot of people were so supportive of Messages in Liquor Bottles that I decided to create a sequel. If you haven't read it, I highly suggest that you do so that you further understand their "new" friendship (or budding romance). If you don't read it, you won't be too far behind, but it'll make you understand so much better. Hope you enjoy it =)

"Sam, stop it!" Freddie half-yelled as Sam stuck her foot underneath his nose. This kind of thing was actually the best part of her day. Sam laughed to herself and wiggled her toes. "Savor it. You know you love it."

Freddie wrinkled his nose and pushed Sam's foot to the side. She obeyed and pulled it in, feeling victorious.

They both lay on his bed, Freddie laying in one direction and Sam in the other. It was the perfect angle for her to swing her feet at him whenever she pleased. Sam looked toward her side and played with a corner of Freddie's bed sheet.

"Has Carly texted you yet?"

"I don't know. I haven't checked." Freddie sat up and picked up his Pearphone from behind him.

"Nope."

"Good, 'cuz I'm feeling lazy and I don't feel like getting off of your bed—as geeky as it is." Freddie rolled his eyes and laid back down.

"Your laziness never surprises me." Sam smiled to herself and kicked Freddie's cheek. "What do you keep doing that for?"

"What? I'm bored. There's nothing else to do."

"So think of something else to do." Sam thought for a while and smirked.

"Would you rather eat a raccoon or hug a shirtless Gibby?" Freddie laughed. So they were back at this game, were they?

"Raccoon. Definitely. Would you rather drink a gallon of sour milk or make out with Gibby?" Sam sat up and raised her eyebrows at Freddie. She found it to be a stupid question.

"What! I wouldn't know since you were all mad Gibby wouldn't go with you to that dance thing." Sam's nose flared.

"Listen, Fredward, I was only mad because I didn't know what the dork shut me down for! It had nothing to do with any attraction to Gibby." Freddie rolled his eyes and smirked. "I think you're avoiding my question."

"Sour milk, you dummy! Pick more interestin' ones, won't ya?" Freddie laughed and nodded. "Okay, okay… um…"

Freddie was interrupted by his mother's five-time-buzz. Freddie's eyes widened.

"Crap! Sam get off the bed! You're not supposed to be here!" Sam caught on and jumped off the bed.

"What do I do?" Freddie grabbed his spray right away and started spraying around the room.

"Uh—uh—the balcony! Go out to the balcony!"

"Right. Got it." Sam practically dove out of Freddie's room. Freddie put down his spray and took a few deep breaths. He wasn't supposed to have girls in the house when he was home alone.

Freddie's mom burst open the door and beamed at him. "I'm home!"

"Yay, Mom." Freddie's voice quivered.

"What was that? Why do you sound so nervous? Are you hiding something?"

"No, no! I'm just—I'm so ecstatic that you're home." Freddie hugged his mother, not knowing what else to do, who patted his head as tears filled her eyes.

"I was blessed with a wonderful son. A son who bathes every day, a son who comes shopping to see me model my favorite outfits…"

"Mom…"

"… a son who would lay down his life for another, a son who…"

"I get it, Mom. I'm a great son." His mother squeezed him one last time before letting go.

"I am going to make us some Soy Stew while you do whatever it is that great sons do!" she patted his head one more time before walking out and bursting into tears.

Sam slid open the balcony door and smirked at Freddie, leaning against the wall. He glared at her.

"Don't you even dare."

"Dare what, Freddo? Apparently you're the new super clean Messiah who goes shopping with his madre and eats Soy Stew." Freddie rolled his eyes.

"It's my mom's new soy phase. I have nothing to do with it."

"Like I've said before, what mommy says, Freddie do." Freddie was just about to give a retort when his Pearphone vibrated from the side of the bed. He grabbed his phone and looked at the text. It was from Carly.

"Carly's brought Gibby home. She says he has something important to tell us." Sam groaned.

"Oh, that Gibby kid never has anything good to say. I'd much rather stay here than be subjected to that torture!"

"Sam! Stop!"

"It's true! It's probably about his grandma's new turtle that he's made his friend or something."

"Sam, just come on. We'll climb down the fire extinguisher and into Carly's apartment. I'll tell her to keep her bedroom window open." Sam rolled her eyes and stamped her foot. "Okay! But I better get some kind of sandwich out of this!"

"I'll make you some food. Just start walking." Sam smirked again.

"Don't you have some Soy Stew to chew?" Freddie groaned and grabbed Sam's wrist. "Come on!"

Sam followed without reluctance. She didn't fully realize it yet, but Freddie's touch had started to have that affect on her.