Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.
Freddie Benson was certainly confused. It was showed by his furrowed eyebrows and the intense stare which he send to the petite blonde sitting across of him on the Shay's couch. She sat Indian Style there, eating a piece of bacon and watching intently on the TV screen. They aired reruns of Girly Cow, the whole nine seasons.
Carly, their best friend, fell asleep a few hours ago, leaning her head against the armrest of the couch, her mouth agape. Freddie chuckled slightly at the sight of her, his laptop trembling in his lap.
Sam shot him a curious glance. She raised an eyebrow as she saw him staring at Carly which brown hair fell softly over her face. Sam's expression changed as Freddie returned her look and she quickly recovered looking to the TV.
Freddie rolled his eyes. "Aren't you full sometime?"
"What'd you mean?" Sam asked with her mouth full of meat.
Freddie screwed up his face in slight disgust. "We're sitting here for three hours now and the whole time you've been eating. Aren't you full sometime?"
The blonde girl looked at him and cocked her eyebrows as if asking 'Really, Benson? Really?'
Freddie couldn't help but chuckle at her look. "Okay, never mind."
"Good boy," Sam said facing the TV once again.
It grew silent in the room apart of the voices that came out of the boxes and Carly's soft snoring. Freddie found this little imperfection totally cute and felt a smile form on his lips as he glanced over to the brunette's sleeping form.
"Stop watching the poor girl, you creeper," Sam suddenly said, not looking over to Freddie. "She'll have nightmares from your staring."
"She will not," Freddie told Sam offended. "She'll never notice."
"Uh, she will if I tell her. Duh."
"She won't."
"Will."
"Won't."
"I'm not getting into this, Freddork. There's no point in arguing, Momma always wins."
Freddie frowned. Why did he feel this weird confusion rising inside his body again? He shook his head as if to let loose all the strange feelings and let his eyes slid to Sam's lap, where the empty plate rested.
"It's gone."
Freddie looked up. Sam almost had a sad expression on her face, as her eyes met the empty plate in front of her. She shoved her lower lip forward, a pout growing on her face as she ignored the TV completely.
"Well, get more." Freddie stated the obvious, the corner of his mouth twisting lightly.
Sam shot him a steely glare. "I can't, doofus. People don't have anymore."
"No need to get vicious."
"No need to get your anti-bacterial underpants in a bunch."
Freddie rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed by now. Why did Sam always have to make fun of him? She never took him serious and it was just confusing him more that she plainly refused to look at him when she did, or rather didn't.
Carly would never be so rude to him, that he knew for sure. And he also knew that this confusing feelings Sam made him feel weren't of the good kind. At least not good when it came down to Sam Puckett. They weren't that different from the feelings he thought he'd feel for Carly, but this time it seemed stronger, more urgent and, dare he say it, more sincere than before. It made him feel sick and good at the same time. Confused.
"Why can't you be nicer?" He burst without thinking. His eyes widened in surprise. Uh-oh.
Sam cocked an eyebrow. She wore her typical bored expression, no emotion reflecting on her face. "I'm not happy with your girlyness either, but you don't hear me complain, do you, Fredface?"
"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about. You don't even consider seeing me as an equal member of society!"
Outraged she opened her mouth. "How can you believe I do that, when you keep saying things this nubbish?"
"If you had something like manners you would overhear my nubbish outbursts, just like Carly does!" He replied frantically knitting his eyebrows together.
A glint of…something flashed through Sam's eyes before she looked genuinely annoyed. "Yeah, 'cause Carly's always the perfect one. Get a life, nerd."
Did Freddie hear wrong or did Sam really sound kind of jealous just a moment ago? But that could be just his weird new feelings pulling a prank on him, so he shook them off and continued returning Sam's death glare. She was scary when she did that.
"I bet you couldn't handle being like Carly to everyone for a week." A victorious grin flashed across Freddie's features. He knew Sam couldn't resist a bet and he also knew that this bet would be a total win for him. Maybe his first win over Sam Puckett, ever.
"Excuse me?" Sam said slowly, dangerously, sensing something.
Freddie knew what was going through her head. She was in denial. She felt nauseous with the thought of being nice to everyone at school for a whole week, but on the other hand, she couldn't back down. Sam Puckett never rejected a bet, especially not made by him, Freddie Benson.
"You heard me." Freddie cocked his head up, trying to look bad, but failing miserably.
Sam chewed on her lower lip absentmindedly running her hand through her long, unruly curls. Freddie tried not to focus too hard on how she sucked her lip in her mouth and how she let it out with every other breath.
He forced himself to look down on his now black laptop screen and tried to calm down a little. He blamed these freshly discovered feelings to his teenage boy hormones.
"What do I get when I win?" Sam's voice snapped him back into the presence. He looked blankly at her for a moment, trying to sort out this unusual mess inside his head.
"You mean if you win," he corrected.
"I know what I said." Sam smirked. "So what do I get?"
Freddie shifted in his seat, feeling uneasier by the second. "What do you want?" he asked carefully, not really sure if he should be asking that.
Sam's smirked widened. "Really, Freddifer, I thought you knew better."
"I do. It just…slipped," he murmured.
"When I win, I'm going to tell your Mommy what happened last week, after you and me left to hit Groovy Smoothie after the show." A flash of evil graced her features. "She's going to love this."
Freddie's mouth opened in total shock. "You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?" She let loose of her hair and stood up, empty plate in hand. "Think hard, Benson."
She chuckled and walked over to the kitchen to place the plate on the kitchen counter and open the fridge. She bend over and Freddie lowered his gaze onto his laptop once more.
If Sam was really going to pull of this bet, he had to do everything in his power to make her lose. His mom would freak when she found out what happened at Groovy Smoothie. No one knew. Not even Carly and that meant something. Well, not no one, since Sam knew, obviously. But that was it.
Freddie had been surprised by Sam's promise not to tell anyone in the first place, and that had been the time when he first started having this weird, disgusting feeling assaulting his insides.
"Why is here no food?" Sam called out of the kitchen.
Carly swiftly shrugged in her sleep, but this time Freddie didn't really care how cute she looked when she did so.
"My bag-pack's lying on the counter. Look in the front pocket, there's some Low-Fat fatcakes," Freddie answered automatically. "I thought you might get hungry again."
Sam straightened her back, as she looked over her shoulder to gaze at Freddie. She had a weird look upon her face, but he could barely see it for the light was very dim in the living room.
Sam closed the fridge and walked towards the counter, grabbing Freddie's bag and ripping the front pocket open. She fetched out some of the marshmallow flavored cakes and took her seat next to Carly on the couch again. The brunette girl snuggled a little deeper into the pillows, knitting her eyebrows together in her sleep.
"Okay, Benson, just to be fair here," Sam announced. "What do you want, if you win?"
Her face didn't show any emotion, just a flash of delight when she opened the package of the fatcake.
Freddie frowned. What did he want, if he won this bet? Could he even think of this as an opportunity to humiliate Sam Puckett? What would be bad enough to give her a hard time? Then he remembered this thing that he talked about in school earlier.
A grin spread over his lips as he looked at Sam gleefully. "Remember what I told you guys about in between Chemistry and English?"
Sam chewed slowly on her fatcake, looking kind of lunatic with the way she held it close to her chest. She shook her head. "No."
"About the cinema?"
"No."
"Sam, did you even listen to me at all?" He frowned again, this time frustration taking over his voice.
The petite blonde smirked. "No."
He rolled his eyes and reminded her. "Next Saturday there's going to be this Galaxy Wars marathon. They show the whole series, all six parts, the whole night long. If I win this bet, you have to come with me."
Sam stopped chewing for a second. And if Sam Puckett stopped chewing she must be really been caught off guard. "Dude." She swallowed hard. "That's not just the most disgusting prize you've ever wanted, but that sounds a lot like…a date."
"What? No. God, no." Freddie shook his head in disbelief. It didn't sound like a date at all, what was that demon thinking? "I'm just trying to make your loss the worst you've ever discovered."
"Congratulations," Sam's voice was dripping of mock humor. "It would be, but I don't lose. After all, Momma plays to win, Fredwardo. I'm not going on a date with you in, like, ever."
A pang of…something mixed itself into the weird and overly aggressive feelings in Freddie's stomach. If he thought he felt nauseous after watching Sam eat that bacon, he felt even worse now, after hearing her voice say totally typical Puckett words.
"So, it's a deal. Starting tomorrow," he managed to press before letting himself sink into the armchair he was sitting in even more.
Sam glared at him before biting a piece off of her fatcake. "You're so on."