A/N- So this is just a place to dump all my unfinished stuff- idea completely copied from Spinlight's "Waste of Ink." Any-who one-shots, AUs and other things I never finished/haven't posted. (Oh, and all this stuff is completely un-edited so peek through your fingers while reading to ignore the atrocious grammar.)
Hardcore Days & Softcore Nights
Its sophomore year that Sam decides she'd be good as the partying type. She's sitting on the Shay's counter with a handful of ham and a smile, giving Freddie one of her usual you-disgust-me-so-much-it's-amusing looks.
"We should go to that party tonight the one at…Jane's? house." Carly's out of town and Spencer is …somewhere but somehow it's normal for them to just take the loft as their own. Somehow it isn't so weird to be just the two of them anymore.
"Jim's. Why would you want to go to that? All they do is, like, smoke weed and get wasted." Which Freddie knows it supposed to sound appealing to teenagers but his mother had made him endure one too many side-effects of drug use slide-show for that to be appealing.
"Yeah but I was thinking I'd be so good at that. Like, Wendy asked me today if I had any weed and it just struck me that, you know, I should have weed." She finishes her Ham, sucking on her fingers. "I have connections, my cousin Rod has been in jail seven times for drug possession. I could get good stuff."
"People don't do stuff just because they'd be good at it. I could be a good meth addict if I tried but you don't see me jumping on that bandwagon." Sam opens her mouth and Freddie quickly cuts her off, "I'm not becoming a meth addict."
"Eh. You're already bad enough to look at without the stuff anyhow. But really, I should do it. I could get a hat and cane and be a drug lord."
"You're thinking of a pimp."
"You could be a whore then."
"Which one are you going to be, a pimp or a drug lord?"
"I could do both. Take over the Seattle underground scene."
"You know drugs dull your taste buds."
Sam wipes her saliva covered fingers on her jeans and lets her eyes drift to the ceiling, apparently weighing the pros and cons. "I could still be pimp."
Freddie decides to ignore her, picking up the TV remote and tuning into the newest episode of Celebrities Underwater. Sam hops off the counter and walks towards the door, kicking him in the shin as she passes.
"Come on, you're buying me a smoothie." A flash of irritation briefly passes over him but he's too used to her abuse to really be mad.
"I'm pretty sure pimps don't drink smoothies."
"They do when the whore is buying."
/
It's the beginning of their junior year when Carly decides they're weird. Freddie is sitting in the iCarly studio re-writing his English essay that Sam stole and Carly is watching him from the prop car. Sam's somewhere that's apparently makes it impossible to answer her cell.
"Why are you re-writing your paper?" Carly asks, playing with the iCarly remote and causing random noises to blare out and the lights to flicker every so often.
"Because Sam stole mine," he thinks this is obvious but since its Carly who's asking he trusts that she's going somewhere with the question. "She's getting better at editing things to make it seem like she wrote it." Last time he was actually stupid enough to accuse Sam of stealing he ended up getting detention for a week because Ms. Briggs was convinced it was Freddie who copied Sam, and not the other way around. He still doesn't know how Ms. Briggs even got her job.
"Yeah, I know. But usually when she does that you make a big deal out of it instead of just complying."
Freddie shrugs, "It's less effort to just re-write it."
"I don't get it," Carly shakes her head and Freddie snorts.
"No one gets Sam Puckett."
"No, I mean, I don't get you. You and Sam, you're weird."
Freddie thinks about arguing but he can't of anything good so he shrugs again. "Yeah, maybe."
/
"Benson!"
Freddie thinks he's hearing voices. It was really only a matter of time; really, with his mother's over parenting and Sam's abuse he actually thought he'd lose his sanity much sooner. It's only when an arm shoots out of the bushes and pulls him down her level does he realize the 'voices' he's hearing is Sam. Which figures.
"Way to almost screw everything up, nub," she whispers, eyes narrowed she peers through the bushes. "Honestly, you can't do anything right."
"You do realize you are the most emotional and physical-"she shoves him, making a shushing noise that is much louder than he was speaking.
"Howard is gonna come across the corner any minute." She smiles and Freddie instantly shoots up.
"Oh, no. You are not commandeering me into one of your reckless plans again." Or, at least, she wasn't going to. It's just Mr. Howard takes that moment to come around the corner and Freddie thinks it's a lot smarter to be crouching down in the bushes unseen then standing in the middle of a quad like a big 'blame me!' sign.
"This is going to be good," Sam's voice is barley a whisper and when Freddie turns his head to look at her he realizes how close they are. Actually, he already knew they were close because with Sam it's impossible for him not know exactly how close she is- he's hyper aware of her existence- but, like, he can smell her hair and see the little flakes of gold in her eyes and that makes it hard to swallow.
It's not even that he likes her- or, if he does, that's not even the point- it's just that Sam isn't the most unattractive girl at Ridgeway. In fact, she's ranked number thirteen on the list of hottest chicks on the fifth stall in the boy's bathroom. Though there's a rumor going around that she was the one who wrote that list- which is very likely because Carly is number one and he's number thirty two.
"What in the world-!" Freddie turns his attention back to the quad where Mr. Howard was now covered in some kind of bubbly substance.
"There was suppose to be glue and feathers," Sam whispers angrily. "I'm gonna kill that freshman."
"You were going to feather Mr. Howard?" He's not even really surprised.
"No, I am going to feather Mr. Howard. Keep him distracted." And before Freddie can even process what's happening he's being shoved out into the quad with a sudsy glaring down at him.
"You," he says, suds flying out of his mouth. "Are coming with me."
/
They get kicked out of the grocery store.
"Nice going, Benson," Sam rolls her eyes and plops down on the curb in front of the shop 'n save, barley batting an eye before falling back onto the sidewalk. Freddie thinks of the million germs that fester on the ground before plopping down beside her, frowning both at her statement and how much he just reminded himself of his mother.
"In what universe is this my fault?" He asks, though he knows there's no use arguing with her.
"Every universe. It you had just pushed me in the cart then-"
"There's a sign that reads clearly that no one over the age of five-"
"-Hit you in the chest and that security guard wouldn't have –"
"-had just let me handle the security guard then-"
"-domestic abuse and I wouldn't have to show him what abuse really looked-'
"Crazy maniac!" Freddie finishes, arm raised in frustrating and Sam props herself up with her elbows.
"We should get ice cream." Briefly Freddie pictures himself reaching out and shaking the blonde until she just stops moving but he pushes away the thought with a sigh and a shake of his head.
"Fine. But only because its a million degrees and you just ruined our chances of getting any more popsicles."
"Cool. You're paying."
/
"You got kicked out of the grocery store? Again." Spencer shakes his head, making sure to really put his neck into the shake so everyone can see just how much his hair is like those shampoo commercials. Last week Carly started nagging him about getting it cut once again and ever since the elder Shay has been on a mission to prove his locks worth.
"It wasn't my fault," Freddie says, looking over to where is Sam is assaulting her ice cone. Assaulting because there's no other word for the thing she's doing with her mouth.
"I swear I can't send you two to do anything," Carly sips on her lemonade before narrowing her eyes. "You weren't banned were you? Because that would make the seventh place Sam is-"
"We weren't banned, chill," Sam finishes the last of her cone, swallowing hard and brushing off the mess she's made on her shirt. Freddie is about to make a comment about how she still needs a bib at seventeen but he catches a spot of chocolate on her collar bone and finds himself acutely aware of the cut of Sam's tank-top. "It was all Benson's fault anyhow."
Sam looks up to confirm this and catches his eyes, he quickly looks away and sputters out a quick, "Y-yeah. Well, um, I gotta go home." Before making his way towards the door.
"Freddie?" Carly calls after him but he's already out the door.
/