Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Time Warp Trio.

This fanfic is purely Fred x Samantha. Don't like? Please don't read.

The history mentioned in this story is factual, so you might learn something new!

Enjoy! :)

We were left alone in Sam's room while he and his family munched away at dinner. I had had half a pie of pizza with Joe at the pizzeria downtown, and washed it down with a tall jug of Peppi, so I wasn't hungry or thirsty one bit. Well, thirsty in the sense of everyday drinkable liquids.

I was stuck in the room with Samantha, and boy was I thirsty for her. She had warped back to help Sam and me out with the history project we were paired up and assigned to do. It was a drag to work on… but Samantha's presence made it a bit lighter of a tow.

Some years had passed, and the crew was now 16 and in high school. Weeeee… With our matured bodies and brains came perks: I had grown a solid foot since 2005 (the current year was 2011), acquired a good deal of muscles courtesy of baseball, and had sprouted a few facial whiskers above my lip and on the sides of my masculine jaw. Also, as you may have noticed, my vocabulary evolved. But I only showed that part of my matured spectrum when I was in the mood, when I talk about important things or people. You'll see later on.

So, as I mentioned before, I was stuck in Sam's room with his great-granddaughter Samantha. The increase in age brought significant change to her as well. She finally untangled her hair out of those weird but "unique" bunches of hair that stuck out on the sides of her head and let it down. Her bangs were gracefully swept to her right ear, and half of her waist-long, numerously layered jet-black hair was pinned back with a bright orange, intricately designed clip. See, I told you guys my vocab had evolved. She still had that long orange shirt on, but the one she had on now, compared to the one she wore a couple years back, had a black lightning bolt on the side and sleeves that came down to her elbows. It still flowed effortlessly away from her body, but was slightly more feminine. She replaced her boot-cut jeans with black leggings that defined her elegant legs. Wait, did I just write that? Shit and I'm writing in pen…

She was cutting out the typed historical facts we needed to have and pasting them carefully onto the poster board that was mine and Sam's project. I watched her as she leaned back and forth, reaching for the proper place to paste and sitting back down on her feet to cut out the next fact. I thought to start up a conversation. The last thing we spoke about was how the Civil War was anything and everything but civil, and then Sam got called for dinner.

I cleared my throat and began. "So, uh, how ya been?"

"Right," she agreed. "I don't think we had a casual conversation ever since I came." She pasted the next fact down, then took a break and leaned against Sam's bed. "I've been great actually. Did all my homework the first day of break, won the Science Olympiad Contest last week,"

"And congratulations to that." I cut in. Not that I cared about science—not one bit to be honest. I fell asleep in that class every day we had a double-period—but I figured it necessary to congratulate her.

She giggled and continued, "Thanks. Oh, and the new upgrade for my cat should be coming in today!" She wiggled her fingers in joy atop her knees as she told me.

"Oh right, your electronic, solar powered cat." I mocked.

"That's right!" She didn't notice.

"Oh the future of animals…" I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"What? They're much more entertaining to play with, and clean-up is virtually non-existent. And, they don't shed and you can program them to be nice to everyone! Aw what? Bam!" She savored her victory.

"Alright, alright.~ You win, now sit down!" Samantha had gotten up to do a victory dance. What a character she was…

She laughed. "Sorry. Life has just been, smiling its rays of greatness on me." she told me as she drifted back down. "What about you?"

Sadly, I couldn't say the same. "Ah, I can't say the same… My brother left for the war over in Ukraine. He got drafted by the UN a week ago and, my mom and dad haven't been holding up all too well. We don't even know why! He was doing fine as a firefighter and then-" I threw my hands up and slapped them down in my lap in a combination of defeat and confusion.

"Oh, Fred…" She placed a warm hand on my shoulder. "I didn't know that they still drafted people in 2011." Samantha added.

"Apparently they do." I said, a bit too harshly than I meant to, but I was upset at having my own brother get taken away from me. Now losing a game station didn't seem as big of a deal.

Suddenly, Samantha wrapped her arms around my neck and shoulders and pulled me into an embrace. She smoothly whispered, "I'm sorry that happened." Her golden voice made the hairs on my neck dance, as if to jazz music, and a chill shot down my spine. But it was a good kind of chill, one that braces you for impact, one that brought a bright blush to my face and made my heart race as if to get that homerun. All I could utter was, "Thanks…for your sympathy." -and for the hug. I really needed that. But I didn't tell her.

She backed up, but kept the hand she had placed on my shoulder right where it was. She stiffened subtly and batted her lashes a few times. Did I tell you about those eyes? She had gotten contacts for her thirteenth birthday, and ever since then her emerald eyes shined brilliantly as if the sun was always positioned at the perfect angle and beamed its rays right through. They always caught me off guard.

Like now. "Uh, Fred? Are you alright?" she inquired. "You got a- a little something red on your cheek." She held back a laugh. It was visible.

'Dammit!' I thought to myself. "UH, it's nothing. I was just- I'm really mad that they took Mike away." I covered. It wasn't a total lie, but it wasn't true either.

Her grin vanished. "Oh. R- right."

I wanted to tell her—I've wanted to tell her for so long—but I just couldn't… I didn't know if she liked me back the same way, if she had someone else in her time—she most likely did, I mean, have you met her?—and I debated multiple times and decided that it would be completely against the rules of The Book to like someone who was born in a different time and century than you. And I never bothered to ask Joe about it… So I left it alone, once again, at least for the time being. I couldn't keep it locked up inside there forever.

Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think or how I could improve. Read on peeps -