A/N: don't shoot! I know the title is lame and I need to start working on those summer weeks. But this has been growing in my head since that picture was released - in the run-thru of iHire an Idiot with Carly and Freddie having what could be some kind of fight. And the bunny nibbled at my brainz until I wrote this, so. :D I hope you like it. I'm not going anywhere for almost two weeks now; I promise to get the next chapter of those summer weeks done and uploaded for you all. :)
Don't own, etc. Also, only lame people just add this to their favourite story list and don't leave a review. seriously. Whilst reviewing you can tick a box that automatically adds it to your favourite story list, or me to your favourite authors list. :D it's frustrating for many authors on this site when people constantly do this. please stop. thank you.
"...so, sorry," Freddie says, although he isn't really very sorry at all. "But I don't think you know enough for the controls you need to use-"
"Well done Court!" Sam cries, cutting across him.
"You're hired," Carly says.
"What?" Freddie exclaims.
The stupid pretty-boy grins and tucks his (very lame) flashcards into his pocket. "Thanks, guys."
"We'll be fine," Carly assures him as Sam goes to hug their replacement for Freddie for the next webcast. "It's just one show, Freddie."
He does something he never really does; he glares at her. "That's not the point."
She looks slightly bewildered and he sighs in frustration.
"Can I talk to you?" he snaps. "In the hallway?"
She nods uneasily, and when she nears him he grabs her wrist and drags her out of the door, ignoring her protests. He slams the door behind them.
"Why are you hiring him?" he growls, walking to face her.
"He's got all the requirements," she says in a small voice.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise being all pretty was one of them," he retorts sarcastically.
"What's the matter with you?" she hisses.
"With me? So there's nothing wrong with you hiring someone just because they're good-looking?" he says angrily.
She's mad now, her eyes narrowed. "I am not hiring him just because he's good-looking!"
"It sounds like it's an important part of it," he says.
She glares at him for a few seconds. "I can't believe you're yelling at me because you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous!" he shouts.
"Then why isn't Sam out here too?" she yells.
"Because – because she was hugging him –"
Carly raises an eyebrow.
"That's not what we're talking about," he mutters.
"Fine," she snarls. "You know what? He is pretty cute."
"Good for him."
"But I'm not hiring him just because of that," she says. "I'm not that shallow."
"Really? Then why are you always crushing on guys who are just so hot but end up breaking your heart? Why can't you like someone who actually cares about you?" he shouts.
"See?" she shrieks. "You are jealous!"
"So what if I am?" he retorts just as angrily and just as loudly. "Maybe I'm sick and tired of waiting around for you to see that I could make you so much happier than they could."
"You never said anything!" she yells, and the tears on her face send a pang of something through him that settles somewhere in his gut.
"Neither did you!" he thunders.
"Why do I have to say anything?" she cries, and he knows that the regret and pain from their sort-of breakup all those months ago is exploding between them. "Why can't you just tell?"
"You've got a damn good poker face, that's why." He chokes.
She bursts into hysterical, heaving sobs, and he's torn between throwing his arms around her and never letting go, ever, and storming out of her apartment. She covers her mouth with her hand, and he digs his teeth into his lower lip.
"Best friends," she whispers, her breath hitching violently. "You're my best friend."
He swallows.
"That's why it should be easy," she continues. "to – to be more."
He nods clumsily, the guilt in his gut expanding as the tears continue to dribble from the corners of her dark eyes.
"But it makes it hard, too," she says, tangling her hand in her hair (God, he wants that hand to be his). "Because you might lose each other."
She gazes at him, all traces of anger gone, and he's never wanted to kiss her more than he does now.
"Carly," he says quietly. "I'm sorry I yelled."
She merely smiles, and extends her arms for a hug. He happily falls into them, holding her tightly.
"Maybe we should talk about this another time," she murmurs.
"Yeah," he says, his nose buried in her hair. "Hire him."
"Thanks," she replies, nestling her head into his shoulder a little more. He almost laughs with the relief, and the prospect of the possibility that he and Carly could become Freddie-and-Carly is enough to keep him smiling for hours.