Hello, iCarly peeps :) This story had been sitting on my computer 1/3 done for years, and while it was not meant to be a follow-up to iWYTBMF (it was started around the same time) I figure those readers might enjoy it as the epilogue I never got around to writing. So I've been working on it and feel it's finally ready to be shared. Hope you guys like it!
"¡Por favor!" Freddie yanked at the uncooperative bits of fabric, then dropped them to his chest with an exasperated huff. "I swear this thing is defective. I do this every morning!"
Spencer couldn't help but laugh. "Getting married is a little different from getting ready for a day at the office, Freddo." Or so he assumed; he'd never really done either… "You just need to relax."
Relax? "How can I relax?" Freddie gaped across the room at him. "This whole thing could just be Sam getting back at me for ditching her at prom. I'm going to be standing up there like a nub and she'll be on her way to Hawaii laughing her ass off with some dude she picked up in the airport lounge!"
"Pretty sure they'd have to kick us out of the church before that," Gibby reasoned, what he thought was helpfully. "Your flight isn't until tomorrow."
"Really? That's the part you argue with?" Freddie needed some better friends.
Gibby shrugged and leaned back in his chair. He couldn't argue anything else – underestimating (or overestimating) Sam could be hazardous to your physical and/or mental wellbeing. He knew from experience.
The waiting was clearly giving Freddie too much time to worry. "Don't you think you're being a little paranoid?" Shane wondered from the couch.
"There's no such thing as paranoid when dealing with Sam." Crossing the ends of the tie, Freddie mimed being garroted from behind. "She usually is out to get you."
The gathered men looked at each other before nodding in solemn agreement.
Feeling bad for the nervous groom, and just in case he was tempted to choke himself out, Spencer confiscated the uncooperative garment. "Look, there's no way she'd put up with you for five years just for revenge."
Freddie raised a critical eyebrow. "You have met Sam, right? She'd gnaw off her own arm to get revenge…" Yes, he'd just compared dating him to self-mutilation; Sam had been known to compare it to worse.
Spencer draped the tie around his own neck and made the first messy loop. "Okay, but she wouldn't waste all this money…"
"When has Sam ever cared about wasting money? Much less my money?" Okay, so they were both paying for the wedding but that didn't matter; Sam would just sell all the gifts and call the difference money well spent.
"True," Spencer quietly conceded, concentrating on the task at hand. "But she wouldn't disappoint all your guests like that…" Three heads swiveled to him and he realized the absurdity of what he was saying. "Never mind."
Funnily enough Freddie hadn't seriously thought Sam would stand him up until Spencer had started trying to convince him she wouldn't. Now he was *this close* to freaking out.
Spencer scoured his brain but came up empty. "Yeah, I've got nothing." Loosening the completed tie he took it off and handed it to Freddie, then looked to Shane and Gibby for help.
Shane shook his head. "Don't look at me, dude; my girlfriend's the sane one."
"Hey!" One, Freddie's girlfriend almost was Shane's girlfriend once upon a time. And two, if not for Sam the ingrate wouldn't even have a girlfriend: the boys had ended up interning at the same company after college and become friends again. Shane had been over to the apartment a couple of times and, having deemed him worthy, Sam had thrown a dinner party to get him and Carly (back) together. Sam. Dinner party. She'd actually cooked. And it had been *good*. Freddie's mind was still boggled…
"No offense, man – you know I love Sam but just the fact that we're sitting here having this conversation should tell you something." Shane looked around, daring anyone to disagree.
Giving him a disapproving glare, Freddie set to tightening and straightening the object that suddenly felt so much like a noose around his neck.
"I got it!" Spencer clapped his hands in triumph and turned back to Freddie to see his hard work mangled. "Awww, Freddie!"
"I'm sorry!" His hands just weren't taking their cues from his brain. Or his brain was sending the wrong signals. It could go either way…
Spencer wrapped his arms around Freddie from behind, unknotted the mess, and started over.
When Spencer didn't finish his thought Gibby snapped his fingers. "Yo, Spence!"
"Yeah?" Closing his eyes, Spencer pretended he was fixing his own tie. Why was this so hard? Oh, yeah: 'cause he barely knew how to fix his own tie…
Shane thought about helping a groom out but the display of combined incompetence was just too much fun to watch. Instead he blatantly fiddled with his own flawlessly tied tie.
Gibby waved his hand for Spencer to continue. "You had it…"
"Right!" Spencer reclaimed his train of thought. "Sam wouldn't embarrass you like that on TV. She's mean but she's not that mean." No one was that mean. Except possibly Sam. …Okay, maybe he didn't have it after all.
"On TV?" Freddie gasped, jerking forward only to be stopped by the arms around his neck. "What do you mean 'on TV'?"
"Carly invited the local stations…"
Freddie spun in Spencer's arms so fast their noses bumped. "Local stations?!" Like he wasn't nervous enough already, now he had to worry about being humiliated on the evening news?
"Uh…" Spencer was seriously failing at this whole best man thing – at this rate he'd have to drag Freddie into the chapel…
Three short knocks sounded on the door as it opened. "Hello! One hour to…" Marissa stopped in her tracks, quickly covering her eyes. "Freddie!" The elder Shay had his arms around her son and they were inches apart. Of all the days…
Shane had to cover his mouth to smother the laughter that threatened to escape, the look of abject horror on Mrs. Benson's face priceless.
"Mom!" Freddie'd never been so happy to see her in his life. Throwing Spencer's arms off he rushed over to her.
"Fredward, I have put too much time and effort into this wedding for you to…"
"Relax, Mom." Pulling her hands away from her face he explained, "Spencer was just helping me with my tie."
She lifted a troubled eyebrow. "Should I be worried? Do you want me to break up with Sam for you?" That prospect wasn't as enticing as it once would have been. Sam had kept her word about not making Freddie choose between her and his education, choosing to follow him instead, and though Marissa had asked the couple to hold off on getting married until they'd finished school and their careers were established, she really did have an enormous soft-spot for the tempestuous blonde. "Okay. I'll do it but I won't enjoy it."
"No! Mom…" Freddie held up the ends of the fabric with a helpless shrug, feeling like he was eight again.
Relieved that he still needed her, Marissa gave him an indulgent smile. He must have really been nervous – he could tie a tie before he could tie his shoes.
Freddie tilted his head up and stared at the ceiling while she worked. "Not that I'm not happy to see you but what are you doing here?"
"Sam wanted to make sure you weren't getting cold feet." She patted her perfect knot then clucked disapprovingly. "She also said some things I'm not going to repeat, but the gist of which was 'You'd better not.'"
Gibby couldn't help his morbid curiosity: "Which of his body parts did she threaten?"
"All of them," Marissa shared with a sympathetic look at her son. "Some more than others." At Gibby she raised an eyebrow. "You will be wearing a shirt for the ceremony."
"Yes, ma'am." Her tone brooked no argument, and he wished he hadn't called attention to himself in the first place.
"And during the reception," Freddie added warily. "Unless you want Sam to forcibly remove six years worth of chest hair."
Gibby covered his bare chest with a protective hand. "She wouldn't!"
"You have met Sam?" Marissa condescended in her best 'are you stupid?' voice. "If that shirt leaves your body at any point, chest hair will be the least of your worries…"
After a moment's thought, during which he envisioned possible scenarios, Gibby nodded sheepishly. "I'll keep the shirt on."
"Yeah, right," Shane scoffed. "Hundred says he doesn't last an hour into the reception." And that was being generous: it was an open bar.
"It's a bet." After a beat Spencer turned to Gibby and whispered, "I'll give you half."
Shane sighed. "I'm right here, Spencer."
"But you didn't hear anything 'cause I whispered." Spencer winked slyly at Gibby.
Freddie shook his head and left them to argue it out, turning back to his mom. "How's Sam doing?" Part of him hoped she was freaking out too, as unkind as that was. And as unlikely.
Marissa set to checking his suit. "She's good." How did that wrinkle get there? She'd just ironed the thing not thirty minutes ago… "Considering."
"Considering what?" How nice – his own mother felt bad for Sam.
"Not you, dear," she clarified, noting his hurt look. "She's worried about her parents being in the same room together. Oh, and Carly's treating her like a life-sized Bambi Doll."
"And you left her alone?" Freddie didn't think Sam's aversion to being fussed over would disappear just because she was getting married. Especially if she was already stressing out about Pam and Dell…
Marissa shared his concerns. "I tried to get Carly to come check on you instead but she didn't take the hint. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, that one."
"Hey!" Shane ceased bickering with Spencer to object.
Freddie turned on Shane with a wry smile. "Not so much fun when it's directed at your girlfriend is it?" Just because it was the truth didn't make it less hurtful.
Point taken. "Sorry, man. Carly just wants to make sure Sam's perfect for the cameras, you know?"
"Dude!" Spencer and Gibby replied in unison. Why'd he have to go and mention the cameras again?
Spinning back to his mom, Freddie grabbed her arms. "Mom, please tell me there aren't a bunch of cameras out there!"
"There aren't."
Freddie sighed in relief as he released her.
"Not enough anyway," Marissa muttered, shaking her head contemptuously. "My Freddie's special day deserves more than coverage from three measly stations."
"Oh, God!" Freddie sat in the closest chair and put his head in his hands. "At least tell me they won't be broadcasting live!"
Marissa would have reprimanded his language if she hadn't recognized the imminent breakdown. Instead she knelt (carefully, so as not to wrinkle her dress) in front of him. "What's wrong?"
"He thinks Sam's not gonna show."
"Oh." She knew what this was about. Tilting her head she looked at her son sadly. "You shouldn't have left her at prom."
"Mom!" Like he wouldn't do it over if he could – that had been the worst month of his life, when he'd so very nearly undone a year's progress with one impulsive decision. Then there was the time Sam had decided they were going vegan 'cause she'd ended up on PETA's website while researching a potential client. He hadn't minded the food (his mother had fed him far worse growing up), but it had taken Sam all of two days to go into massive withdrawal. She'd lost that client (and two other potentials) plus twenty pounds before he'd convinced her to drop it for her own good (and that of their relationship, if he were being honest). But even that had been a very distant second.
Okay, so maybe that hadn't been the best thing to bring up; five years later it was still a touchy subject for them both… "Sam wants to marry you, Freddie," Marissa gently assured him, taking his hands into hers.
Freddie looked at her disbelievingly. "She doesn't believe in marriage." After what had happened with her parents Sam had decided getting married was nothing more than an expensive excuse to pig out and get lots of presents (with the added bonus of not being forced to testify against each other in court). And while in Sam's mind they were all good reasons, she didn't think they were good enough. It was why he hadn't fought her on it when she'd agreed with his mother about waiting. Well, that and he'd been speechless that she'd agreed with his mother… "Why would she want to get married?"
Unfortunately he had a point. Sam had once told Marissa – while binge-watching (or binge-mocking, in the blonde's case) Say Yes to the Dress – that she didn't need the approval of God or State to be with Freddie. They'd spent the next three episodes arguing theology and the moral accuracy/acceptability of lumping the Almighty in with the government. It had been an enlightening (albeit frustrating) conversation, but Marissa had no doubts regarding Sam's feelings for her son: "But she loves you so she's marrying you anyway." Wait, that wasn't as comforting as it had sounded in her head…
"So what you're saying is Sam doesn't really want to get married but the fact that she's willing to proves how much she loves me? That would be reassuring if I wasn't worried about her not marrying me!" Throwing his hands in the air Freddie stood up and started pacing. Suddenly he was certain this was all a big joke at his expense.
Marissa's heart constricted at the uncertainty in his eyes. "Listen to me, Fredward." Rising gracefully she grabbed his arms to halt his progress. "Sam loves you. She's loved you since you were kids. She loves you so much she learned Spanish just so she'd understand you when you start spouting your nonsense. And she has spent the last two years planning this wedding when she could have easily let me do everything. Does that sound like something she'd do if she didn't want to marry you?"
Sam only worked when she absolutely had to so Freddie would have to say no. He shook his head slowly.
Spencer, Gibby & Shane collectively held their breath, waiting for the storm to blow over.
Taking his face between her hands Marissa bore her eyes into his. "She may not care for marriage but she cares for you. She wants to marry you."
Freddie let her soothing tone wash over him until he felt his frayed nerves settle. Taking a final calming breath he nodded. "Thanks, Mom."
"Thanks, Mom," the others echoed gratefully. Some groomsmen they were…
"That's what mothers are for," Marissa smiled, pulling Freddie into a tight hug. "That doesn't change just because you're all grown up and getting married." She gave him one last squeeze before releasing him and whispering, "You'll always be my little boy."
"Aww, Mom…" The tears in her eyes made Freddie's sting. He couldn't stand it when she cried.
Feeling like they were eavesdropping, the others tried to fade into the background; Spencer stared at his shoes, Shane plucked imaginary lint from his suit, and Gibby counted his chest hair so he could remind himself what was at stake when the urge to take off his shirt struck.
Marissa held her son's shoulders and looked at him lovingly. "I am so proud of the man you've become, Freddie. You're strong and responsible and independent and gentle and loving and…"
"Mom, I get it," he interrupted with a sweet smile. She'd go on all day if he let her. "You should be proud… I'm all those things because of you."
"Oh, Fredward…" Validation had never felt so good; as soon as the ceremony was over this success story was going up on the forums at aggressiveparenting dot com. "You don't know how much that means to me."
Freddie kissed her cheek. "Well it's the truth." Sure, he was paranoid and insecure and over-sensitive but it all evened out in the end, right?
Marissa blinked back more tears and hugged him again. Seeing Spencer shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot, she pulled away and grudgingly allowed, "I don't think I get all the credit."
"Huh?" It wasn't like his mom to share the glory on anything.
She gestured over her son's shoulder. "Spencer?"
Spencer's head shot up. "You want us to leave?"
"I was talking about you, stu…..silly." She motioned him over. "Come here."
Throwing Freddie a confusion-laden glance, Spencer obediently shuffled over to them.
Freddie couldn't help him – he didn't know what was going on either.
Marissa looked at the elder Shay critically. "Spencer, you are a spastic, immature adolescent trapped in a gangly adult body…"
"Um…thanks?"
"But you have always been there for my son when he needed you," Marissa continued, taking each of their hands into her own. "I worried about the effect not having a father would have on him growing up. All these studies said that not having a male influence could stunt a boy's emotional development…"
"Mom…" Freddie rolled his eyes.
Shooting him an offended glare, she got to her point. "Even if you aren't exactly a man, Spencer, I'll always be grateful that you are a part of Freddie's life."
The men in the room were stunned silent; that was high praise coming from her.
"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!" Spencer gushed, wrapping his arms around both Bensons.
Gibby immediately jumped up to join them. "Group hug!"
Staying in his seat, Shane just shook his head in amusement. This was the motliest most dysfunctional family he'd ever seen.
"Child, get your naked chest off of me…"
"Carly, if you don't back off we'll be having a funeral instead of a wedding and it's too late to change the invitations!"
"I'm just trying to…"
"Get on my last nerve? 'Cause you're doing an excellent job..."
"But Sam…"
"Don't make me hurt you, Shay…"
Wendy watched the door anxiously, wishing someone would come back before Sam snapped. Their banter had started out playful enough, but she'd known it was time to worry when the blonde's creative warnings had become blatant threats – it meant all her energy was going into restraining herself. Apparently Carly had no sense of self-preservation though, because she just kept pushing.
"Can you not be difficult?" Carly pouted down at her best friend, hands on her hips. "I'm just trying to make you beautiful." When an unhappy (albeit perfectly shaped) eyebrow was raised, she quickly added, "…errrrr. Beautifuler."
Growling in response, Sam yanked the silk robe tighter around herself to keep her hands preoccupied and away from someone's pretty little neck. She didn't know how much more of this she could take without murdering her maid of honor. Sure, the intentions were good but 'the road to hell…' and all that. "You already did my mascara. And foundation, sealer, blush, shadow, liner, lipstick," Sam listed them (the ones she knew, anyway) through gritted teeth. She wasn't denying that Carly had made her look good (amazing actually) – she just felt like a clown she had so much makeup caked on her face.
"Knock, knock," Marissa announced her presence as she entered the dressing room. "Were you girls good while I was gone?"
Wendy thanked God for small favors – they were more likely to behave themselves with Mrs. Benson around. Well, Carly was, at least.
Carly fought the urge to hide the mascara behind her back; glanced at Sam in silent plea to play along. "Of course we were."
Seeing her opportunity for payback Sam took it, grabbing a random stick from the vanity and removing the cap before swiping it against Carly's dress. "Marissa, Carly has…" She paused to sneak a peek at the cylinder in her hand. "…lip liner on her dress."
Wendy snickered from behind the camera as she took another set of 'getting ready' photos for the wedding album. There was a reason she stayed on Sam's good side…
"I swear I can't leave you alone for fifteen minutes," Marissa griped at the brunette.
"But it was…"
"Come here."
Carly begrudgingly went to Mrs. Benson, throwing Sam an 'I can't believe you just did that' look over her shoulder.
Sam responded with a 'too bad, so sad' one. She wasn't above playing dirty.
"I still wish you'd let me straighten your hair…" Carly knew she was being a nuisance but she wanted this to be perfect for Sam – she owed her that much.
And now her maid of honor was irritating her from across the room. "For the millionth time: NO. I'd like to actually be able to recognize myself in the pictures." It was getting less and less likely every time Carly got near her.
Carly was nothing if not persistent. "But it will look more sophisticated for the cameras…"
"I don't care about the cameras – it wasn't my idea to invite the entirety of the Seattle media anyway." Sam had only found out about the coverage that morning; Carly had been smart enough not to tell her until there was nothing she could do about it. "You're just lucky I'm going to wear this stupid tiara." She held up the sparkling monstrosity with exaggerated disdain.
"It's romantic!" Carly declared dreamily. "For one day Freddie gets his Princess Puckett…"
And that was the only reason Sam had agreed to wear the gaudy thing in the first place; she figured she'd let Freddie have his day, 'cause normally her idea of romance was sweeping the Fat Cake crumbs out of their bed before he got into it. Which brought her to her next point: "Freddie hates my hair straight."
Marissa nodded her agreement. It reminded him too much of 'Samantha.'
"Fine." Carly knew she wasn't going to win the hair war so she focused on a battle she could win. "But come on – being on the news is going to be great publicity for Random Designs and you know it." Even though they only did special iCarly webisodes a couple of times a year they were still somewhat considered local celebrities and had somewhat celebrity friends in attendance. Carly had no issues taking advantage of those things to further their current careers, and she thought Sam of all people could appreciate that.
Random Designs was the company Sam had started right out of high school – so named for her love of drawing and their 'Random' series' – to get everyone (mainly Ted) off her back about what she was going to do with her life. She hadn't intended to do anything with it (or at all, really), but Freddie had convinced her to take some courses rather than just waste time flaking out in their Oakland apartment while he got his degree. To her surprise she'd actually liked graphic design (as much as she could like anything that involved school and work) and she'd been good at it, too; enough to see it through and get a degree of her own. Business had started out slowly with small projects from friends she'd made through iCarly and her dad's contacts (thank God for nepotism), but with their recommendations and referrals it had since grown to the point where she 'needed' an assistant, a marketing manager, and two part-time consultants. So much so that she'd been advised to change the company name to something more professional – i.e. something that made it seem more focused – but she'd refused; even if only a select group would get the reference it was an homage to their fans, to her roots, and it suited her (especially the unfocused part). And even though she commissioned the elder Shay's work whenever possible, and bounced ideas off him on the regular, Random Designs had absolutely nothing to do with the younger Shay… "So what's in it for you?"
"Nothing!" Carly sputtered, "And I resent the implication." How could Sam think she was so selfish?
Marissa grabbed her to stop her squirming.
"You can resent it all you want…" Sam knew her well enough to know she had an ulterior motive.
Darn Sam for knowing her so well. Dropping the act, Carly gave her a hopeful smile. "Exposure for Jackson when he sings at the reception?"
And there it was. "Carly, I already have a band." And she wasn't even planning to invite the media to the reception; if they wanted to cover it they would have to get their content from the iCarly site.
Marissa gave Carly's dress a last brush with the wipe then released her. "Try not to ruin it again."
Ignoring the unadulterated derision, Carly approached her best friend with a pitiful look. After high school she'd tried her hand at acting for a while but had quickly been reminded how shallow and cutthroat the industry could be. Instead, she'd decided to put her sociability and iCarly contacts to good use as a talent agent. Her newest client, Jackson Frost, could use all the help she could give him. "Please, Sam?"
"Shay…" Sam knew she was being manipulated but the doe eyes made it so hard to say no.
"Just one song? Please?" Carly saw her best friend struggling not to give in and delivered the final blow. "He's been practicing Running Away for two months…"
"Ooh," Wendy breathed, knowing the brunette had won.
"Fine," Sam gave in with a put-upon sigh. "First dance. And the media leaves right after." Her family's parties always devolved into things better left without video evidence; at least she had control over what made it onto the site.
"Yay!" Bending down to hug her, Carly was careful not to muss the hair. "Maybe two songs?"
"Don't push your luck, Shay," Sam chuckled as her best friend straightened.
Carly was busy deciding how far she could push when there was a knock on the door and Wendy opened it to admit Corinne.
It was about time; Sam had been starting to get nervous. "Is everything set?"
"Yup," Corinne assured her. "Everyone is here and they have their instructions."
Sam studied the redhead's face for a hidden message and found none. Nodding her thanks she allowed herself a relieved breath.
Carly turned to the blonde accusingly. "You asked her to check on things? But I'm your maid of honor…"
Well, that relief was short-lived… "You were right here," Sam pointed out. "You haven't left my side since you woke me up this morning. At seven o'clock!" Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to boot; the maid of honor had come this close to having the 'honor' of being smothered with a pillow.
"Well, I mustn't have heard you since I was so busy helping you!" Ingrate.
"Exactly," Sam agreed, using the words against her. "You were busy so I asked Corinne." She would have asked Corinne anyway but Carly didn't need to know that.
At a loss, Carly's lips fell into a wounded pout. "But it's my job."
Damn her. "Corinne's my assistant, Carls," Sam placated, tone light. "Let her assist; it's what she's here for."
"Hey!" It was Corinne's turn to pout.
Sam had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that, Cori." You couldn't please everyone all the time – it's why she usually didn't even bother to try.
"Whatever," Carly and Corinne said simultaneously, then gave each other the side-eye.
This time Sam did roll her eyes, then turned to Marissa. "Hey, did you happen to see Pam out there?"
Unfortunately. "She was flirting with the priest." Marissa had never met anyone with so little self-control. Or self-respect. "I don't think she even realizes your father's here. Did you want me to get her?"
Sam had asked Dell to wait until the last minute to enter the chapel, and also to sit on Freddie's side, so hopefully Pam never would. "Nah; I just wanted to make sure she wasn't getting into any trouble."
Corinne lifted a disbelieving brow. Flirting with the priest is staying out of trouble?
"Hey, I'll call it a win if she keeps all her clothes on and the cops don't show up." Sam was only half-kidding.
Carly and Wendy shuddered in unison, remembering the events of the graduation party Pam had thrown for the twins.
Marissa looked at Sam in concern. "Are you okay, dear?" Maybe she shouldn't have convinced the girl to invite her mother after all…
"I'm fine." If there was anyone she was worried about it was Joyce; the girl would probably receive the brunt of Pam's anger the way Sam had… "How did it go with the boys?"
Change in topic duly noted and accepted. "I arrived just in time to prevent a nervous breakdown…"
"Whose?"
The others turned to Carly with identical 'are you serious?' faces.
The brunette shrugged unapologetically as she placed the tiara upon golden locks. "It's a valid question – Spencer's been freaking out about being best man for the last year." To Sam: "It's a good thing you decided not to ask him to walk you down the aisle, too, or I don't think he would have gotten out of bed this morning." Spencer and responsibility went together about as well as Spencer and electrical wiring.
Decided? She had vetoed her brother doing both because it was 'against tradition,' though Sam suspected it was really because Carly didn't want him having a bigger part in the wedding. Sam didn't really mind – it had made her feel less guilty about choosing Ted – but she wished her best friend would just own it.
"I was talking about Fredward." The 'dummy' was unspoken but heavily implied in Marissa's tone.
"He better not be getting cold feet," Sam announced with narrowed eyes. "I did not just let Carly torture me for two hours so he could back out…"
Let her? They'd practically had to tie Sam down…
"He thinks you're going to back out," Marissa corrected, tilting her head not-so-subtly at Carly. "Because of the thing."
Avoiding the attention by focusing on the partial updo she was adding to the bride's hair, Carly tried to figure out if she was part of 'the thing' or 'the thing' itself. Freddie's mom had never been her biggest fan, but after prom she'd stopped even trying to hide her contempt.
Sam rolled her eyes. "He's such a nub."
"Sam!" Marissa chastised, swatting her shoulder lightly.
"What?" Like she would really put up with him all this time just to get back at him by humiliating him in front of all their friends and family. …Okay, maybe it did sound like something she would do. But if that were the case she wouldn't have put the wedding off for three years. "You said you fixed it, though, right? No big deal."
Marissa sighed; Sam's lack of sensitivity astounded her sometimes. "I did what I could but I think he'd feel better if he heard it from you…" Guilt always worked better than commands on the obstinate blonde.
Silence fell in the room as the two women tried to out-stubborn each other.
"Ugh. Fine!" It wasn't that Sam didn't care that Freddie was freaking out – she did – she just refused to coddle him; his mother did that enough for the both of them. "Where's my…"
Corinne grabbed the gesturing hand and placed the phone in it, contact already pulled up. She'd known Sam would give in – her boss pretended to be a hard-ass but when it came to the people she cared about she was putty just waiting to be manipulated the right way.
Sam glared at her – refusing to believe she was that predictable – as she hit send and held the phone to her ear.
"Hey."
"So, you wanna switch?" Sam offered without preamble, "I'll wear the suit and you wear the dress?" She directed a smug grin at Marissa and Corinne.
The women in the room let out a collective groan; Lord forbid she actually be nice to him.
"Mom told you?"
The defeat in his tone made Sam feel bad. Not bad enough to preclude teasing, though. "That you're acting like a little girl? Yeah, 'Mom' told me."
"Well, excuse me for not wanting to be left standing there like a loser…"
Sam refrained from pointing out that that's exactly what he'd done to her; that poor horse was so beaten it was glue. "I won't leave you standing there alone." If he heard 'like you did' at the end of her sentence it must have been his guilty conscience.
"The priest doesn't count, Sam."
Either he hadn't heard it or he'd decided analyzing her words was more important. Smart boy. "I'm not talking about the priest, Freddie."
"I don't believe you."
He sounded so petulant that she had to laugh. "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"
"¿Prometes?"
Sam's laughter died and her heart clenched with guilt. She'd spent so many years testing his love for her, both before and after 'the thing,' that she couldn't even blame him for being insecure. Turning her back to the others she lowered her voice. "I love you. You know that, right?" The lengthy pause made her worry he didn't believe that either, at least not at the moment.
"Don't you mean you hate me?"
"Eso también," she admitted softly, the pain in her chest lessening. "I am going to be walking down that aisle soon, Benson, and I expect you to be there waiting for me."
"Forever if I have to."
She couldn't say anything around the breath caught in her throat; the boy sure had a way with words.
"Sam?"
"Yeah?" She blinked the tears from her eyes.
"Hate you, too."
Sam ended the call and took a steadying breath before turning back to the others. They were all staring at her with huge grins on their faces. "What?"
"You told him you love him!" Carly gushed.
She should have known turning and whispering wouldn't stop the emotions police from eavesdropping. "We've been together for six years – it has been known to happen."
Carly shook her head. "I've never heard it."
"Me neither," Wendy agreed.
"I have." At the others' accusatory glances Corinne defended, "I walked in on her when she was on the phone with him – it wasn't intentional."
Traitor. "That wasn't Freddie – that was the Send-Ex guy I'm having an affair with…" Who'd been having a really shitty day at work.
"Sam!"
Surprisingly her name hadn't come from the scandalized lips of Marissa, but from Carly. "Look – just because I don't feel the need to announce it in front of everyone and their dog like some people I know…" Sam paused to look pointedly at her maid of honor. "…doesn't mean I never say it."
Carly blushed in embarrassment. She wasn't that bad – her best friend just had an unhealthy aversion to the 'L' word.
When Marissa didn't volunteer her own scathing opinion Sam began to worry. Standing up she touched the older woman's arm. "Marissa, it was a joke – I'm not really sleeping with the delivery boy." Freddie would never forgive her if she'd broken his mom.
Cupping Sam's cheeks Marissa released a happy sigh. "You called me 'Mom.'"
What the heck was the crazy lady on about? She hadn't… Oh crap. "No. No, I didn't," she denied uselessly, backing away with her arms outstretched between them. "I was just mocking…" Her words (and her retreat) were cut off by Marissa pulling her into a firm embrace. Awkwardly returning the gesture, Sam gave her friends a pleading glance over the older woman's shoulder.
Carly wouldn't have interfered (turnabout's fair play, after all), but she saw Mrs. Benson's hand moving towards her hard work. Hesitantly, more appeal than order: "No, no. We don't mess up the hair..."
Marissa stroked Sam's shiny tresses anyway, though she was careful not to tangle the waves.
Of all the peculiar habits the Bensons shared (of which there were many), the petting was by far the weirdest, and one Sam had absolutely no interest in encouraging. "I'm stuck calling you 'Mom' now, aren't I?"
Backing away, Marissa gripped the girl's shoulders and looked her in the eye. "No, Sam. But regardless of what you call me, you are my daughter now. My crass, stubborn, stoic, insolent, pain-in-the-butt daughter." With a tender smile she brushed Sam's bangs aside. "And I wouldn't trade you for anything."
Either Sam was hypersensitive today or the Bensons were in competition to see who could make her cry first… Marissa had been more of a mother to her in the last six years than her own had over the last twenty, and just the fact that she was there while Pam was out trying to get 'filled with the holy spirit' told Sam that if anyone was deserving of the title it was Marissa. Still, she couldn't bring herself to use it, instead promising hoarsely, "You're the best one I've got, Crazy."
Marissa read the sentiment behind the words. It wasn't exactly what she'd hoped for but that was okay: they had the rest of their lives to work on it. Placing a soft kiss to Sam's forehead she made a promise of her own: "You're the best daughter I've got, Delinquent."
Sam laughed through her tears. "I'm the only daughter you've got."
"It's just as well." Marissa 'tsk'ed affectionately, dabbing at blue eyes, then green, with a tissue. "I don't think I could handle two of you."
"Probably not," Sam agreed, grateful that she'd been wrong all those years ago, doubting Marissa could handle her at all.
Wendy cleared her throat as she lowered the camera. "I hate to break up this ass-backwards love-fest, but we've got less than thirty minutes before the ceremony starts and you aren't even in your dress yet…"
"Right." Sam was more than happy to put an end to the touchy-feely moment. Giving Marissa a last reticent smile she turned to Carly and offered the brunette her face. "Go ahead."
Without a word Carly led Sam back to the vanity and began to undo the damage that'd been done to her makeup. So much for waterproof…
Corinne unzipped the garment bag that was hanging on the door and pulled out its contents.
Taking one look at it, Sam growled deep in her throat. "God, I hate that dress."
"Stop moving," Carly reprimanded. "And you picked that dress."
"Nuh-uh," Sam mumbled, trying not to disrupt Carly's work. "You and Melanie picked it while I tried not to go wacko." Carly and Shane had better elope because never again was Sam going through hours upon hours of dress shopping. She'd almost called off the wedding right then.
Carly pointed the eye liner accusingly at her best friend. "What are you complaining about? You made Melanie try on all the dresses for you."
So? Everything they'd brought her had been over-the-top flashy. If Sam had been picking for herself she would have been in and out of there in less than an hour. And she had. "Being the least hideous of the bunch doesn't make it not hideous…" Her and Melanie may have been damn near indistinguishable on the outside, but in taste and character it was actually Carly and Melanie that were daffodil twinsies.
"Where is Melanie, anyway?" Wendy wondered, looking to avoid an argument. "Is she running late?"
Seeing that Sam wasn't going to answer, Corinne hesitated a second before doing it for her. "She called last night – she had a last-minute work thing and won't be getting in until after the ceremony. Hence the dress." She motioned to the matching bridesmaid's gown she was wearing.
Wendy frowned in sympathy. "Aw, honey; I'm sorry." The sisters had finally started to let go of the animosity between them and were working on getting their relationship back to the way it had been before Melanie had gone away to school.
"It's fine," Sam brushed off the unwanted pity. "One chick in my wedding party who's made out with my husband is more than enough, anyway."
"Then there's something I should probably tell you," Wendy joked, hoping to lighten the mood she'd unintentionally darkened.
"Aw…" Having finished her touch-ups, Carly bopped Sam's nose with the brush she'd been using. "You called him your husband." If you'd told Carly ten years ago that she'd one day be maid of honor at the wedding of her two best friends – the ones who hated each other – she'd have thought you were on drugs. Really cheap, really messed up drugs.
Sam shrugged. "Well, he will be in, like, a half hour." With those words the finality of it all sunk in. She turned to Carly with wide eyes. "Oh, God."
"No, no," Carly held out her hands as though she could ward off Sam's breakdown. Way to change the subject, Shay, she congratulated herself sarcastically.
"I need to sit," Sam breathed.
"You are sitting," Carly gently informed her.
"Oh." Sam shook her head to clear it. "Then I need to stand." What the hell was she thinking? Getting married? She didn't know of one first marriage that had actually worked out. Well, Ted's, but that was because he was Ted and his wife was the sweetest woman on the planet. Sam and Freddie were nothing like them. Well, maybe Freddie was like Ted but Sam wasn't even remotely like Evelyn... "Oh, God."
Thankfully Carly had come prepared for such a situation. Pulling a Fat Cake from her purse she hurriedly opened the bag and waved it under the blonde's nose.
Sam's eyes lit up. "Gimme!"
"No…" Carly held it out of Sam's reach and tore off a piece. "Open."
Doing as she was told, Sam moaned happily when the treat was placed in her mouth. "I knew I kept you around for a reason."
"That's what I'm here for," Carly reminded her, giving Corinne a sly smile. When the cake was done she grabbed Sam's chin. "Teeth check."
Sam sucked her pearly whites for any remnants – as much to avoid wasting Fat Cake as to clean them – and then showed them to Carly.
"All good."
"Thanks." Sam took a deep breath. "Alright – everybody out."
"Everybody?" Carly pouted. "You don't want my help?"
"I've been dressing myself for many years now, Carls." Sam patted her face. "I think I can manage." She felt guilty for denying her best friend but she had no choice: Carly couldn't keep a secret for her life.
"But…" She needed to make sure the dress was on right, and her makeup was still good, and…
Wendy didn't want to stick around for Battle of the Wills part three. Or was it four? "See you out there." She gave Sam an encouraging smile before leaving the room.
When her maid of honor just stood there Sam gave her a quick hug and directed her to follow. "Go."
Carly sulked in the doorway, waiting for Marissa and Corinne.
Marissa had to get back to Freddie anyway. "You will be walking down that aisle," she told Sam in no uncertain terms.
"Yes, Mother," Sam relented, stepping up to place a kiss on her cheek. "Now go. Freddie needs you…"
Giving the blonde one last warning glance, Marissa pushed Carly through the door.
"Hey!" Carly attempted to dig her heels into the carpet. "How come Corinne gets to stay?"
"Assist-ant…" Sam pointed out, closing and locking the door before the brunette could respond. Turning around she found said assistant giving her a disapproving look. "Aw – you know I love you."
Corinne let the condescension go to address the actual reason for her disapproval: "I don't think this is a good idea anymore, Sam." Not that she ever did, really…
"I don't pay you to think," Sam teased, pinching her friend's cheek as she passed.
Corinne's brow furrowed as she turned to follow. "Uh… Yeah, you do." Literally.
"Okay – yeah, I do. But not about this." This was her plan and she was going to see it through. There were just too many pieces in place and too much time invested.
"But Freddie's already freaking out and now with the media…" Maybe Sam didn't want her input but she'd made her accessory to something she wasn't very comfortable with anymore.
"Corinne…" Sam couldn't deal with mutiny right now – not when she had her own reservations to deal with.
"All I'm saying is it isn't too late to back out." Putting the dress back in the bag and zipping it up, she draped it over her arm. "You don't have to do this…"
Opening the armoire, Sam pursed her lips and gathered her resolve. "Do you want to be a bridesmaid or not?"
Corinne sighed. "Of course I do."
"Then you need to let it go," Sam advised, then softened the blow with a gentle, "But if you want out it's okay." She knew not everyone had the lack of morals she did.
"I'm in." Corinne wasn't about to abandon her friend now; she only hoped Sam knew what she was doing.
"Don't worry…" Sam smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "It's gonna work out."
Shaking her head at the blonde's (misplaced?) confidence, Corinne used her cell to take a couple of pictures of the bride, then opened the door a crack to survey the corridor. Seeing it was clear she turned back to Sam. "I'm sending your dad in. I'll be back in fifteen to check on you."
"Thanks, Cori." Once the redhead was gone Sam turned to her reflection in the mirror and steeled her nerves. "Show time…"
"I think I'm going to be sick." The waiting was killing Freddie – standing at the entrance to the chapel where their families, friends, fans, and the media were gathered – and the fact that Carly had been evicted from the dressing room had only renewed his fears.
"You're going to be fine," Spencer chuckled. "You just need to relax…"
"Stop telling me to relax!" Freddie snapped, glaring at him. "Until you're in my position you don't get to tell me to relax!"
Even if Spencer had planned on marrying the woman who tormented him relentlessly (which he didn't, by the way – he was a spaz, not a masochist) the only one who fit that bill was Marissa, and Carly had made him sign a contract years ago promising he would never ever 'go there.' He still didn't know what that was about…
"Just breathe, dear," Marissa soothed, running a tender hand along her son's back. "We're still on schedule; as soon as Sam is ready Corinne will let us know."
Speak of the devil's assistant… Freddie was crazy happy to see her coming down the hallway. Until she got closer and he could see how crazy nervous she was… "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Corinne quickly denied, forcing a smile. "We're good to go."
That was convincing… "Cori, I know she's planning something."
She put on her best 'clueless' face. "What do you mean?"
She was nowhere near as good as Sam at the 'lying' game, but even if she were, Freddie knew his fiancée way too well. "Carly is out here; the only reason she would be out here and not in there is because Sam is trying to hide something."
He knew Sam so well it was almost comforting… Pulling him out of earshot of the others she wracked her brain for an excuse that was both reassuring and believable. "She's not wearing the dress Carly picked out and she doesn't want to deal with the drama, okay?"
Freddie peered over at Carly to find her noticeably upset and pretending not to stare. It might have been because she was out of town for her job a lot, or maybe some residual guilt over senior year, but she'd always been a little threatened by Corinne's friendship with Sam. He wasn't sure surprising her with a different dress in front of a crowded room was the best way to go, but it was certainly better than the other scenarios running through his mind… "That's it?"
"Of course," she assured him, hand on his arm to lead him back to the assembled group. "Now what do you say we get this show on the road?"
Ugh. "Can we please not call it a 'show?'" It was supposed to be the happiest day of his life, for God's sake…
Giving him an apologetic smile, Corinne began getting everyone into their positions.
Freddie must have zoned out while she gave final instructions because he hadn't noticed the doors open or the music switching to the processional, only felt his mother squeezing his arm. It took all his concentration just to not trip over his own feet as they started into the chapel.
When they reached the end of the aisle Marissa pulled her son aside to let the others – Wendy and Gibby, Corinne and Shane, then Carly and Spencer – pass to take their places. "Just breathe," she whispered, her hand cupping his face. "It'll be fine. Sam loves you."
"I know." He kissed her cheek, then waited for her to sit before moving to join Spencer at the altar. Scanning the room he registered a sea of people (and cameras) staring back at him, but didn't really see them. It was just all so incredibly overwhelming.
The music had stopped and the longer it went without a bridal march to replace it the more guests began to squirm in their seats, perhaps knowing the bride's penchant for being unpredictable. No one was more on edge than the groom beside Spencer, though. "She's probably doing it on purpose just to freak you out, man."
It's working… Logically Freddie knew that was the most likely reason but his heart rate just wasn't cooperating. His heart almost gave out altogether when a loud double 'click' echoed through the chapel, and he was oh so glad his intern, Adam, was standing behind him live-streaming so the entirety of the internet could witness him jump in surprise.
Spencer nudged Freddie's arm like 'see?' when the organist began to play the Canon song – the traditional one that wasn't 'Here comes the bride' – and the doors opened.
Freddie had never been more relieved than he was seeing Sam walk towards him. That was until he noticed the dress did look more like something Carly would choose. Throwing a questioning/panicked look at Corinne he found her hushing an unhappy maid of honor, and then he was just confused.
"Uh-oh."
His confusion was entirely forgotten, replaced by fear, when Freddie followed Spencer's gaze and realized it was none other than stab-happy Cousin Chaz escorting the bride down the aisle. The same Cousin Chaz who had threatened him from prison via messenger after the events of prom, and who, as far as Freddie knew, was supposed to still be in prison. Oh, crap.
Chaz held out his hand to the groom as soon as they had mounted the dais. After a moment the boy's hand was firmly ensconced in his own, and he put a little more force into the shake than was required. "Do I need to remind you what'll happen if you hurt our little Sammy again?"
"Uh, n-no," Freddie stuttered, looking to Sam to save him.
Taking pity on him, she gripped her cousin's arm in a warning of her own, varnished nails digging into his bicep. "Behave."
With one last squeeze Chaz released the boy and lifted the veil so he could properly kiss her forehead. "Just making sure he behaves, little cousin. Wouldn't want him to think he's safe just 'cause we left him alone last time."
Of course Sam would never let him make good on his threats but she wouldn't do anything to dissuade them, either… Shooing him away with an amused roll of her eyes, she passed Carly her bouquet (paying no heed to the brunette's pronounced pout), and placed her hands in Freddie's. "Hi."
Hi?! "You didn't tell me he was out." Apparently Carly wasn't the only one she saw fit to unpleasantly surprise. Not that that surprised him any…
"I didn't? Must have slipped my mind with everything going on." As far as excuses went that was a pretty good one, right?
Her wannabe innocent smile told him otherwise. "Really? So you weren't saving the big reveal just to freak me out?"
There was no point in denying it – it totally sounded like something Sam would do… "Fine. But only with him being here; he wasn't supposed to walk me down the aisle."
It took her sad admission for Freddie to even realize anything was amiss, that's how nervous and distracted he was, and his irritation instantly turned to concern. "What happened to Franklin?" He looked around to see Evelyn sitting with J'Mam Maw in the front pew on the bride's side.
She followed his gaze, putting on a happy smile for the older women. "Emergency meeting at the board. He said he'd be here as soon as he could get out of it."
Freddie's face exuded sympathy when he turned back to her. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know how much it meant to you to have him give you away."
Touched by the sincerity in his voice, Sam's innate ability to deflect evaded her. She struggled to find an appropriate response and settled on a glib, "To him, too; he's been trying to get rid of me for years."
Despite the joke, or maybe because of it, he knew it bothered her far more than she was letting on. He wouldn't ask why she didn't have Dell do it instead; knew it would have caused an immediate uproar amongst her mother's side of the family. "Do you want to wait for him? We can start over."
Aww… Damn him for making her feel [even more] guilty about what they were doing, but it was way past the point of no return. "You're a good guy, Freddie Benson," she told him, then jerked her elbow at the already annoyed priest. "But I don't think he'd agree."
Father Aubry took the acknowledgement as his opportunity to interject. "May we proceed?"
Freddie looked to Sam for confirmation, then nodded reluctantly.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…"
Sam wasn't normally one for church or long-winded speeches, but rather than bored she seemed increasingly nervous, her hands fidgeting in Freddie's. "You okay?" he whispered, running his thumbs along her fingers in an effort to soothe her.
She denied the urge to retreat from the intimate action. "Yeah. Fine." Looked like she was actually going to fulfill her teenaged fantasy of becoming Mrs. Freddie Benson. No big deal.
Freddie was about to challenge her on it when something – or rather the lack of something – sidetracked him. "Hey – where's your ring?"
Father Aubry glared at them but continued his monologue. "Marriage is a sacred union between husband and wife and shall remain unbroken. It is the basis…"
"Uh…" Sam had been sure he wouldn't notice… "I must have forgotten it in the bridal suite."
"Oh." It wasn't a big deal but the plan (to which in hindsight she probably hadn't even been listening) had been to switch it from her right hand to her left after he'd put the band on; adding it after the ceremony just wasn't the same. And that was if she hadn't actually lost it, which was a very real possibility.
His disappointment was palpable. "I'm sorry. I'll go get it right after, okay?"
Freddie's brow furrowed at the unprompted and unexpected apology.
"What's wrong?" How sad was it that she couldn't apologize for hurting him without arousing suspicion?
"Nothing. Never mind." It was their wedding day after all; maybe this was the beginning of a newer, gentler Sam. …Oh, who was he kidding? He'd be lucky if it lasted through the reception.
Father Aubry motioned for them to start paying attention, feeling much like a teacher trying to rein in his unruly students during a lecture. "We are all here today to witness the joining in wedded bliss of Fredward Philip Benson and Samantha Joy Puckett . This joyous day…"
Watching Sam's face as she watched the priest, Freddie just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Her anxious half-smile, the clammy feel of her skin on his. Even the way she was breathing wasn't quite 'right.'
"You okay?" Now it was her turn to ask, having felt his eyes boring into her.
No, he wasn't okay – it was surreal, like he was dreaming. The flashy dress, the traditional song, the lack of a ring, the conspicuous absences. The just-below-the-surface panic and the arguably un-Sam-like empathy. The way Adam was focusing solely on him as though waiting for something… But Freddie couldn't tell if all those things meant something or if a decade of dealing with Sam just had him seeing conspiracies where there were none.
"Who presents this woman to this man?"
Before anyone could answer Freddie made a split-second decision, freeing his hands to lift the veil and plant an impromptu kiss on 'this woman.'
"Fredward!"
"You're supposed to wait until the end for that, son." Father Aubry thought they'd covered that at the rehearsal the night before…
Freddie released the blonde with a victorious (and relieved) whoop. "A-ha! I knew it!"
"Took you long enough, though," Melanie griped, wiping an arm across her mouth. "I was starting to think you subconsciously wanted to marry me." Twin-ocity had made her agree to this insane plan; fear of letting her sister down, again, had made her see it through without bolting. Not sure how well that would've worked out if she'd actually married him, though…
For his part Freddie was just so glad he wasn't insane that he pulled Sam's co-conspirator in for a quick hug; gleefully assured her, "Not a chance!" He had to give her props, though – some (most) of the things she'd said were pure 'Sam.'
Gasps and murmurs erupted around the room as the guests began to realize what was happening.
Taking her bouquet from Carly as she stood beside her, Melanie used it to wave off the brunette's indignant mutterings.
Father Aubry looked between the pair in bewilderment – assuming he'd missed something quite significant – just as another 'click' sounded in the chapel and the organist began anew. It was a piece he didn't recognize but that was reminiscent of Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries. What in heaven's name is going on?
The second the opening notes of Princess Theia's theme from Galaxy Wars played Freddie's gaze was glued to the chapel entrance, where the doors opened to admit Stephanie with a basket almost bigger than she was of petals. Sam appeared behind her on Franklin's arm, wearing a simple gown with a crystal sash, a matching tiara set atop her curls, and a self-satisfied grin. The room fell away in that moment and all he could see was her. If he'd known before that this was how he'd feel – breathless and captivated – there was no way he'd have ever believed Melanie was Sam.
The intensity of Freddie's stare and the open adoration in his eyes made Sam stumble when she was close enough to feel them. She thanked the heavens for Ted's steady grip that kept her on her feet, and cursed herself for the momentary daffodilian weakness.
"I'm sorry, Freddie," Ted apologized once they were gathered at the altar. "I didn't know what she was planning until it was too late to talk her out of it." Hadn't understood the delay at all until she'd started watching the live feed on her phone.
Freddie tore his attention from Sam's red-tinged face. "I know you didn't." And he was absolutely certain that she hadn't told Franklin because he was the one person who could have talked her out of it.
Sam had the decency to look mildly shamed by Ted's disapproval. "It worked out though, right? All's well that ends well…" And if anyone ever asked she had never doubted Freddie. Not for one nail-biting second…
Well aware of exactly how worried she'd been, Ted rolled his eyes before pulling the younger man in for a hug. "I can't tell you how much it means to me to be here today. I have always had faith in you two."
Freddie held the man tightly; responded with a gruff, "It wouldn't have been the same without you, sir." The wedding or their relationship. Franklin had had faith in them even when Sam hadn't, and he'd done what he could to change her mind. Both times. "Thank you."
Sam was already trying not to cry by the time Ted turned back to her, and he hadn't even really said anything to merit it… "Don't you dare make me ruin my makeup…"
Disregarding the hoarse warning, Ted enveloped her as well as he could without wrinkling her dress. "Sam, there are no words to describe how proud I am of you. Of everything you've overcome, and the woman you've become." He bent down so only she could hear. "I always knew you could; you just needed to believe in yourself."
"Not like you gave me much choice," she grumbled into his suit jacket, holding back tears through sheer force of will. "How could I give up on me when you refused to? Stubborn old man."
"Yes. Well…" Ted pulled away smiling; wiped away the droplet that had managed to make its escape onto her cheek. "I'd be lying if I said seven years with you didn't age me fifteen, but seeing how well it paid off gives me the strength to do it all over again for the other troubled young souls that darken my doorway."
Sam had to laugh. "Lots of little Sam Pucketts to keep you on your toes, huh?" And here she'd been worried he was bored and lonely without her there to keep his life interesting…
Ted shook his head fondly. "There will only ever be one Sam Puckett. And it is my absolute honor to stand here with her today."
Too choked up to speak, Sam wordlessly accepted his kiss to her forehead, then reached past Melanie to give her bouquet to Carly (just to avoid any more hard feelings) while he claimed the seat next to his wife.
Father Aubry opened his book once more, assuming they were ready to proceed for real. And with the right bride.
Sam placed one hand in Freddie's and gently ran the fingers of her other down his tie. "Looking pretty smexy there, Benson."
Turning his gaze heavenward, Father Aubry prayed for infinite patience.
Knowing she was trying to get herself out of trouble did nothing to stop the besotted smile from appearing on Freddie's face. "And you take my breath away, Princess Puckett."
"Hmm." She approved of his approval; still had to tease him with a haughty, "Pretty sure princesses are only supposed to marry a prince, but I guess I can make an exception."
But not without making him work for it, clearly… "So what was that? A test to see if this commoner was worthy of you lowering yourself?"
Sam shook her head. "Partly for my entertainment, partly for theirs," she told him with a tilt of her chin towards Adam and their online fans (many of whom had figured it out long before boy wonder). "But mostly so you don't think being my husband grants you some kind of special immunity to being messed with."
Freddie's smile grew."Husband, huh?" That was a first…
Hearing Carly gasp 'Oh, no' behind her, Sam couldn't resist spinning to the brunette with panicked eyes.
"No. No, Sam," Carly whisper-ordered. "I don't have my purse!" She knew she should've stuffed a couple of Fat Cakes down her dress…
Sam let her best friend flounder for a few seconds before dropping the act and giving her the finger-guns. "Gotcha!"
Freddie chuckled; if Carly didn't get immunity then he knew he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell, husband or not… "What were you going to do if I didn't figure it out?" Not that Sam ever had a plan B…
In that extremely unlikely scenario? "Well, it would've been embarrassing to have to crash my own wedding so I guess I would've waited for the reception."
¡Ay! "Sam!"
"What?" she justified with a roll of her eyes, "It wouldn't have been legal." It wasn't Melanie's name on the license. Speaking of which… "You know, most guys wait until at least after the vows to start putting the moves on a younger version of their wife…"
It was days like this that made Father Aubry consider a change in callings.
"You saw?" Freddie threw a betrayed look at Adam as he put two and two together, then looked helplessly back at Sam. "It was the only way I could think to be sure."
Really? "Were your words not working, Benson?"
Freddie would be lying if he said her raised eyebrow didn't make him panic just a little… "And if I was wrong and it was you? It would've looked bad that I didn't know."
Right, 'cause intentionally kissing her sister looked so much better… "And if it was me? How were you gonna explain the kiss?"
Uh… "That you were just so stunning I couldn't help myself?" Okay, so maybe Sam wasn't the only one without a plan B…
It was cute that all these years later his best (and most endearing) defenses still came in the form of a question… "So what you're saying is that you wanted to kiss her…"
"No!" The eyebrow was more amused than annoyed now but he felt the need to explain all the same. "I didn't, but I thought it was just because of nerves. If it had actually been you I would have wanted to, like I do right now, and then I wouldn't have…"
Sam cut off his babbling by taking hold of his tie and pulling him in for a deep kiss, far less chaste than the one he'd given Melanie.
The gathered guests broke out into tentative clapping and whooping, unclear on exactly what was going on.
When they separated Freddie was confused. "What was that for?"
The combination of his dazed look and the question brought Sam back to that night in the alley and their second 'first' kiss. Buying herself some time to remember how the conversation had gone, she drew her thumb lazily across his mouth to clear it of her lipstick. "Well, I figure if I'm going to be subjected to all this 'getting married' chiz I should probably make sure we're compatible first." And also make sure her sister wasn't the last girl he kissed before they got married… "So what do you think? Are we?"
Freddie smiled at the memory she was recreating; shook his head as though uncertain. "I don't know – I think the jury's still out on that one."
Sam cocked her head to the side. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah." Capturing her hand he pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. "Guess you'll just have to spend the rest of your life 'quizzing' me."
His emphasis was on the 'forever' part and not on the 'quiz' part where she would have preferred it to be. Leaning into him, she forced past the lump in her throat to huskily promise, "Count on it, Benson. Often and in ways not at all appropriate for an audience."
Freddie felt his face heat. "Sam, not in front of the priest." He knew it was payback for the 'chick flick' moment but they were in church for God's sake…
Sam rolled her eyes; patted his flushed skin. "Relax, Freddie. The man takes confessions for a living – something tells me he's heard far worse."
She isn't wrong, Father Aubry thought to himself.
Giving the priest a small smile – part pity, part commiseration – she predicted, "Hell, he was talking to my mom before so it's probably not even the most indecent proposal he's heard today."
Still not wrong.
And that was an image Freddie could have lived without… "You're impossible, you know that?" Intentionally making him uncomfortable because his sincerity made her uncomfortable.
His tone was more exasperated than genuinely upset so Sam just shrugged. "Princess Puckett and Potty-mouth Puckett are flip sides of the same coin. You want this?" She waved a hand up and down her body with a cheeky grin. "Then you gotta take the whole Puckett Package."
It was obvious she thought she'd won the war of words, and with a set-up like that she'd obviously forgotten what he could do with the right inspiration… "I fought for the whole Puckett Package, remember?" Moving their joined hands from his cheek to his heart he swore, "And I thank God every day that I did."
Hot tears took up residence in Sam's eyes at the pure love in his, the strong beat of his heart beneath her palm making her own race. Despite having the perfect comeback she decided to let him have this one; to just this once free that girl inside her that could 'appreciate a little sap' so she could whisper, "Me, too." As quickly as the moment came it passed, though, and to compensate for showing weakness she quickly turned to address the priest. "Well, what are you waiting for? My mom got your tongue? Let's do this thing…"
"Sam," Freddie sighed.
Father Aubry rolled his eyes but picked up where he'd left off. "Who presents this delightful young lady to this blessed young man?"
Love it? Hate it? Figure out the twist halfway through? Let me know!
Tie-ups :
The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch i.e. Sam behaved herself
Gibby did not make it an hour into the reception with a shirt on, in fact he didn't even make it to the reception with a shirt on; Sam let him keep his chest hair only because he'd just made her $500 on the bet she'd made with Freddie (who'd mistakenly thought fear of her would deter Gibby's shirtless tendencies)
Chaz took his responsibility to protect Sam very seriously, and so kept his aunt Pam preoccupied all night so she wouldn't cause problems with Dell
Gibby's restaurant catered the reception, T-Bo had a smoothie station, and Galini's supplied the ginormous coconut cream piecaken
And because this is fic, everyone lived happily ever after :)
And if you too want to revisit the second 'first' kiss in the alley, it was chapter six.