I love this story. I've never had so much fun writing a story as I did with this one. I hope you enjoy it. PLEASE Review! Oh and by the way, I have the second chapter written. But I don't want to upload it right away.
Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.
She doesn't think it can get much worse. She was fired from her job, and her mom had kicked her out, just because she turned twenty-one, it's not like she spent any time there anyways. She practically lived at Spencer's. So she makes her way to Bushwell Plaza with two boxes and a duffle bag of her stuff in the back seat of her beat up old mustang. It is snowing and she is thankful she can pass off her blushing from embarrassment from showing up at his door as redness from the cold. She doesn't think it can get much worse than being abandoned with no mone. But, of course, that's exactly what happens.
If she were to think about the moment it happened all she would be able to remember was screeching tires, squealing breaks and white. If he were to think about the moment he heard what happened all he would remember was fear, running and "not her". She doesn't remember what song was on the radio, or what time it was. He doesn't remember what he was doing, or what room he was in. But it changed both of their lives forever.
"Spencer, I can walk!" Sam says indignantly as he carries her into his, correction, their apartment.
"There are a lot of stairs." He says placing her on the couch.
"We took the elevator!" She exclaims.
"That doesn't mean there were any less stairs." He informs her. He walks into the kitchen and comes back with two ham sandwiches and two peppy colas.
"You know me too well." She states gladly taking the sandwich from him. He sits down and props Sam's broken leg up on his lap.
"Spencer-"
"Sam-" They say at the same time.
"You go first." Spencer says politely.
"I wanted to thank you for letting me stay her until I can get up on my feet….literally." She smiles.
"No problem. I actually wanted to tell you that you could stay here indefinitely." He replies.
"Really, don't you think you'd get sick of me?" She asks sitting up as much as she could.
"No I don't think I could, you stay here most of the time anyways. I never minded that." He blushes and looks down at her lime green cast. His eyes brighten suddenly.
"I have an idea!" He moves out from underneath her leg slowly and then races back to his room. He comes back with sharpie in hand.
"Oh no Spencer you are not writing on my cast." She tries to scramble away but she only gets as far as the middle of the floor without her crutches. Spencer grabs her and pins her arms above her head.
"Wow, you're pretty strong." She smirks.
"I'm not going to write on your cast, I'm going to draw on it." He smiles looking down at her. She rolls her eyes.
"Okay get it over with." She lies back and closes her eyes as Spencer scoots down to her calf and sets her foot in his lap. He starts with her name; plain and simple. From her name sprouts roses and flowers and ribbons. One ribbon turns into a rubber duck, a rose leaf turns into a heart. He draws shapes, objects, people, places, her favorite things. And soon her cast is completely covered and she's sleeping. He chuckles, caps the sharpie and picks her up carefully. He carries her to his room and places her on his bed. He covers her with a blanket and kisses her forehead. He can't really remember why.
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She wakes up the next morning and doesn't know where she is right away. The last time she was in Spencer's room was when she was twelve and she was too sick to go home. Even when she slept over before it was always on the couch. But his room is nice. Nicer than she thought an artist's room could be. It wasn't nearly as cluttered as she thought it was. She lies on her back staring up at the ceiling because with her broken leg she can't lie on her stomach like she liked to. She pushes the blanket down to her ankles and sits up looking around for her crutches, hoping that Spencer brought them in but on further inspection she found that he didn't.
"Spencer." She calls. She doesn't like being dependent on people. She crosses her arms and pouts as he enters the room. But her sour disposition doesn't stay long when he comes in dressed in a frilly pink apron. A smile cracks her face.
"Goodmorning Cripple." He says.
"What on God's green earth are you wearing?" She asks trying to keep her voice even.
"I'm making you a surprise, I didn't want to get my clothes all dirty." He says honestly.
"A surprise? Can I see?" She asks.
"Sure. Hold on." He runs out of the room and comes back with a smaller version of the apron he was wearing.
"No, you cannot make me wear that." She glares at it.
"You have to, cause you're gonna help make your own surprise." He smiles and puts the apron around her neck and ties it around her waist. She looks down at the pink cloth with disgust.
"I'll be right back." He runs from the room again. She huffs as she sits on the bed waiting. He comes back, picks her up, carries her to the kitchen and sets her on a red chair.
"Seriously, I have to learn how to use my crutches." She says looking around at the flour covered counters and bowls full of things she can't see.
"Too long, I wanted you out here now, not an hour from now." He says stirring a bowl.
"So what exactly is my surprise?" She asks.
"If I told you that would ruin that surprise wouldn't it?" He smiles.
"I hate surprises." She grumbles. He hands her a bowl and instructs her to stir. She does as she is told and he puts chocolate chips in it. They stir, add ingredients, talk, joke and laugh. After they re done he tells her to go get ready so he can surprise her. She goes to the room and a grabs some clothes. She curses at how difficult it is to carry stuff and use her crutches.
"How am I supposed to take a shower? She asks aloud but Spencer chooses to ignore her.
"Good time to be deaf Spencer." She mutters and shuffles into the bathroom.
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He is setting the finishing touches on her surprise when he hears a loud crash and an angry "God Dammit!" He drops the carton of orange juice onto the counter and jogs to the bathroom.
"Are you okay in there?" He yells through the door.
"No, I am not okay, get your ass in here and help me." He can hear that her voice is strained.
"Are you dressed?" He asks cautiously. It seems like a strange question to be asking when someone needs his help, but he would have been a fool to not have noticed how Sam had grown into her own. Or the fact that most of the time he has to be careful with where his eyes wander.
"More or less." She answers, almost sheepishly, he would have though, but Spencer knows that Sam is never shy. He opens the door to find her sprawled on the bathroom floor, propped up on her elbows staring at him. Her damp hair hangs in heavy blonde curls around her face and her bra-clad chest heaves as she breathes in. Her tone stomach is clenched as she holds herself up in the semi-upright position, and her legs are held together by a pair of black shorts that seems to be stuck on her cast.
"I fell." She says by way of explanation. Spencer sucks in a breath and steps forward.
"Wrap your arms around my neck." He instructs. She nods and does as she is told. He wraps his arms around her waist and hoists her up and leans her against the counter. He bends down and starts to ease her shorts over the bulky cast.
"Really Spencer, I think I'm okay now." She says, but makes no motion to stop him as he pulls her shorts up to her hips. They stare at each other for a moment.
"There, don't want you to fall again," he smirks, "and hurry up, your surprise is almost done." And with that he leaves the bathroom and Sam shakes her head to clear it. She pulls on a tank top, grabs her crutches and hops out into the kitchen. Pancakes, a plateful of chocolate chip pancakes sit in the middle of the table, along with two glasses of orange juice, and a plate of ham.
"Surprise!" Spencer cheers happily. Sam smiles just at the fact that he looks so gosh darn happy.
"Spencer, you made pancakes. And ham!" She laughs, wobbles over to the table and plops into the seat. He sits down across from her and starts forking a few pancakes onto his plate. She sort of just watches him for a few seconds. Watching how his hair kind of bounces when he moves, and the smile that seems carefree but somewhere deep behind it, if she really looks, Sam can see a little bit of sadness. She notices, because she has the same kind of smile. He looks up, they lock eyes, brown to blue, and for a second that smile drops.
"Are you alright?" He asks, confusion forms a frown on his lips. She nods quickly and smiles at him, a bright and shining grin, which brings back his smile.
"Yup, and thanks for making this, it's a great surprise." She starts filling her plate.
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For the next several days Sam and Spencer fall into a comfortable routine. It was never talked about, it was just assumed and nobody says anything about it, Sam sleeps in Spencer's room, in his bed. Nothing is wrong with it, they are fully clothed, they don't do anything, just sleep. And they are comfortable. Spencer wakes up, showers, makes breakfast, wakes Sam up, she eats and showers and then finds something to do around the apartment while he works on a new art piece. Today it is a sculpture, it doesn't really have a shape or definite form, it is made up of at least every color paint Spencer owned and a few that he creates and gives silly names like "Smilpherforb" which is kind of greenish-yellow color. Sam thinks it looks like his brain just exploded.
"Some people would call it abstract." He peers at her from the corner of his eye, She sits on the couch, her leg propped up on a pillow and a discarded book lay by her side. She can't focus enough to study the several mental disorders for her psychology class.
"I call it, "Spencer's Mind"" She grins. He nods and "hmms" and gently reminds her to keep reading. She picks up her book and after several minutes she groans.
"I hate this Spencer!" He looks up to see her staring at him almost like she is asking for help.
"Just one more chapter, then you can have it." He says as he splatters some 'Hergoborgo' a pinkish-orange color onto the sculpture.
"But I want it now!" She whines.
"Sam" He says in a warning tone.
"Fine, one more chapter." She turns a page and forces her eyes to suck the words off the page. While he is taking a break, pouring himself some juice in the kitchen, she comes in, slams the book on the counter and grins at him.
"Done." She says happily.
"Good, the timer just beeped on the oven, it's done too." He laughs and dons an oven mit. He pulls out a ham, and if possible Sam's grin grows larger. After setting the pan holding the ham on top of the stove Sam tackles him with a hug.
"What was that for?" He asks still lying underneath her on the kitchen floor.
"No one's ever cared enough to motivate me to study." She kisses him fleetingly, and before he can even realize what happened she had already pulled him up into a standing position, and left him wondering how, with her cast, she picked him up as well as herself.
"Carly is coming to visit in a few weeks." Spencer says as they stand on opposite sides of the island eating ham.
"Oh yeah, Christmas break." Sam munches.
"Yup, says she's got a big surprise," he looks past Sam into the living room, "although, she doesn't seem so happy about it." He sighs. "I hope she's alright."
"I'm sure she's fine, and yeah, she told me she had a big surprise…didn't tell me what it was about, still a little P. about that." She pushes her plate away.
"You're not going to eat all that ham? There's still a lot left, you always finish your plate." Spencer gestures to the plate. She simply shakes her head.
"I'm not hungry anymore."
"I should write this down, the day Sam Puckett is full…it should be a national holiday." He takes her plate and covers it with tin foil before putting it in the fridge. She chuckles. "Spencer, I haven't eaten that much ham in months now. I think my stomach is getting smaller."
"Are you feeling alright?" He asks looking at her seriously.
"Yes, stop worrying about me so much, I have broken leg, I'm not dying." She laughs. He laughs with her.
"I know, but…" he stops and puts his empty plate in the sink.
"But what?" She asks packaging away the slices of ham in a plastic container and putting it in the fridge.
"I care about you." He mumbles. She smiles at him.
"I care about you too Spence, but I don't ask you if you're okay every ten minutes." She smirks. He grins.
"Then how am I supposed to know you care?" He pokes her in the side.
"I don't beat up on you at every possible moment." She answers poking her tongue out at him.
"Which I am very grateful for." They laugh.
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A week and a half later finds Spencer and Sam putting the finishing touches on the Christmas decorations in the apartment. Lights are strewn about in the oddest places imaginable. Sam was sure to put all of the lights up herself, afraid that if Spencer touched a single light it would catch on fire. Spencer and her had picked out a tree and decorated it themselves and it seems that there is always a Christmas song playing at all times. Sam takes to wearing a lot of red because Spencer had mentioned something about it looking nice with her skin, and Spencer takes her sledding because she told him that she's never done it before. So they come back to the apartment cold, wet and laughing because they had rolled down the snow covered hill like children and stayed at the foot of the hill staring up at the stars in the night sky until they couldn't stand the cold anymore. They drink hot chocolate and talk about everything and nothing for hours until the sun comes up and they finally make their way to their room and fall into bed exhausted.
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A few weeks later they're shopping at Hey Food and arguing about whether or not they should get two or five boxes of chicken.
"They're on sale, five for the price of two, and you love chicken." Spencer is holding all five boxes balanced under his chin so they don't fall.
"Spence, we don't need that much chicken, I really don't eat that much anymore." She laughs pushing the cart. She's glad that she doesn't have a cast anymore and doesn't need crutches to walk.
"I know that, but Carly will be here in two days, and she's bringing Freddie, I'm sure with the four of us we can finish the chicken." He says following behind her. She tilts her head towards him and lets out a slow breath.
"Yeah, alright, put it in the cart." She smiles and he does exactly what she tells him. They find themselves laughing hysterically as they walk into their apartment, arms laden with groceries, and not really remembering what they were laughing about. Sam and Spencer stop laughing abruptly when the find Carly and Freddie sitting on the couch. Carly stands to hug her brother and best friend. Sam lets out a surprise gasp when she hugs Carly.
"Carls, you aren't…are you?" She can't say it and it doesn't matter because Carly starts nodding slowly.
"I am." She says quietly.
"She is what?" Spencer asks, confusion written on his face. Carly takes a deep breath.
"I'm pregnant." She says.
"Pre..Pregnant?" Spencer stammers. Carly nods again.
"Who's the dad?" Sam asks while taking the grocery bags from Spencer after setting hers down. Carly doesn't say a word, she sort of just gestures towards Freddie who, if possible, sinks further into the couch. Spencer's eyes show more than his face does and Sam hurries to his side before he can jump Freddie.
"You need to leave. Now. Go over to your mother…let her deal with you, for once my punishment would be far worse than hers." Spencer growls as he is held back by Sam. Freddie scrambles from the couch and runs out of the apartment after Carly assures him she'll be over in a second.
"How could you?" Spencer asks, anguish is in his voice as well as on his face at the prospect that his baby sister, only 20 years old, is pregnant. Sam could almost spot a bit of jealousy in his eyes.
"We didn't mean to Spence." She says. Sam unpacks the groceries quickly and sits next to Spencer, her hand on his thigh to keep him calm. Carly watches Sam and Spence with narrowed eyes. Suddenly her eyes get wide.
"Are you dating?" She asks shocked. Spencer and Sam look at each other quickly and shake their heads.
"No, besides this isn't about us, Sam isn't the pregnant one here." Spencer says. Carly huffs.
"Does Dad know?" Spencer questions. Carly shakes her head slowly.
"Not yet." She replies and falls onto the chair across from the couch. "Spencer I really screwed up this time. What am I going to do?" She looks up and they can see tears in her eyes. Yet, neither of them moves. Sam squeezes Spencer's thigh and he nods.
"What about adoption." Sam asks. Carly is almost too focused on their interaction to answer the question.
"Uh, I don't really think I could give up my baby…" She snaps out of her trance and leans back onto the chair sighing sadly.
"What is Freddie doing about this?" Spencer asks, not doing anything about the anger seeping into his voice.
"He asked me to marry him the day we found out." She mumbles. "I said yes…" She looks up at her brother and best friend. They look so comfortable together that she doesn't know how she missed it before. "I was hoping it could be small thing down at the courthouse, but I want you and Sam to be there." She says.
"We'll talk about it, why don't you go over to Mrs. Benson's." Sam is the one who speaks, and somehow it doesn't shock Carly. For some reason, she thinks this is how it's always been, hasn't it? She nods and stands, and leaves to go to see if Freddie is still alive over at his mother's.
"Thank you Sam, I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here." He says looking at her, and it's almost as if he's seeing her for the first time, as corny as that sounds. She smirks.
"No problem, Spence," She smiles, "now, what do you want to do about Carly?" she asks, she acts like she is more than a year older than Carly, but that's how it's always been, hasn't it?
"I won't say no to them getting married, and to tell the truth, if he hadn't asked her already, I probably would have forced him to propose." Sam laughs and nods, "when she comes back we can ask her what she wants to do about school," Sam says, "and she should know that we'll always…" She trails off upon realizing that Spencer is staring at her. He leans forward and kisses her. When they separate, for a few seconds, they just stare at each other, but it doesn't feel different like they thought it would. It doesn't feel strange or uncomfortable. It feels nice and safe, and like it's always been this way.
"You taste like toothpaste and strawberries." She laughs quietly. He grins.
"Well, you taste like…" He pauses, how does he describe how wonderful fried chicken, strawberry-banana smoothies and peppermint tastes, "Sam." He finishes and she laughs.
They're making dinner by the time Freddie and Carly return from Mrs. Benson's.
"What did she say?" Spencer asks with a grin on his face, he hopes she was harsh on Freddie. But it is Carly who looks worse.
"She told me the normal things, I'm not good enough for Freddie, I'm doing this to trap him, and then she started on with how I'm a slut and it could be any guy's baby." She glances over at Freddie.
"That was when Freddie started yelling at her, he stuck up for me…" She smiles as a few tears slipped from her eyes.
"I'm sorry I did this guys." She says. Freddie goes over and puts his arm around her.
"We're both sorry." He says. Spencer and Sam look at each other and nod.
"It's alright Carly, we'll always love you, and Freddie, and now this little who's-it in your belly." Spencer tries to smile reassuringly but he doesn't succeed until Sam grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze. Freddie whispers something to Carly and she nods before turning to Spencer and Sam again.
"Seriously guys, what is going on between you?" Carly asks, "I know Sam lives here now because her mom kicked her out, but I think she sleeps in your room," she gestures to Spencer, "and you guys are so close, I think you might be able to know what the other is thinking." They watch her with slightly widened eyes. She notices more than they were giving her credit for. She knew before they did. But they had always been this way, hadn't they. Sam shrugs and hands Carly and Freddie plates with Fried Chicken and mashed potatoes on them.
"We don't really know." Spencer clarifies for Sam's lack of answer.
"Do you guys like each other?" Freddie asks and looks over how they move around and act with each other. He watches their posture and the expressions. They seem so comfortable, everything seems so easy between them, but; it's always been that way hasn't it? The two of them look at each other, and Carly and Freddie feel like they are missing a vital part of the conversation.
"I like him." Sam says finally.
"I like her." Spencer replies with a shrug and a smirk towards her.
Freddie and Carly glance at each other then back at Spencer and Sam.
"Why isn't this weird?" Carly laughs before standing and hugging her best friend.
It's always been this way, hasn't it? Spencer thinks. But no, it couldn't always have been like this. Could it?
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