Title: Four Pieces for Five
Rating: PG
Summary: It was going to be a long night.
Disclaimer: iCarly belongs to that one guy. What was his name again? ;)
Warnings: Femslash
Notes: Written for a fic exchange at the groovysmoothie lj community. I was trying to keep it short while a story was exploding in my head; I'm not good at managing large stories. So this might not be the best, but I hope it's satisfactory!
---
Sam paused in pulling her jacket over her shoulders. "Carly, if you don't get over here to say goodbye I might start getting jealous of the little butterball."
Carly took a moment before ceasing her doleful gazing into the crib. When she finally turned back, her eyes and mouth were creased with worry and she began twining her fingers together in apprehension.
"That's it, I'm staying," Sam said, shrugging out of her jacket.
"No, Sam, you can't stay," Carly said as sternly as she could. "Your mom needs your help tonight."
"Oh, who cares-"
"We care! About the welfare of the grandmother of our child!"
Carly began pushing Sam toward the door. "She spoils our kid and she helps us pay rent, so you're going to help her!"
"She only does all that because she likes to piss off her new rich boyfriend," Sam complained, bracing herself against the doorframe.
"It doesn't matter why!"
"Okay, okay, stop shoving, I'll go!" Sam huffed and straightened her clothes as Carly finally let up. "Happy now?"
"Yes. Very." Carly said, though her eyes gave everything away.
"Oh, Carly. I'm only a phone call away, you know that, right?"
"...Yeah. I know."
---
Sam had just arrived outside her mother's building when her phone rang the first time.
"Carly? What's up? Is something wrong?"
"Simon coughed."
"What?"
"Simon coughed. I think I should call Dr. Johnson?"
"What? Carly, no!"
"Do you remember where I put his new phone number? I can't find it."
"Carly, listen to me. Don't call Dr. Johnson."
"Why? Do you think I should take him to the emergency room instead?"
"No! Carly, it's just a cough. Do you want another Dr. Cirino incident?"
"...No."
"Okay, good. Now just stop worrying. I'll be home in a few hours, okay?"
"...Okay."
"Alright. Love you, sweet pea."
"Love you, too, Sam."
"Don't call – " the sound of the call ending cut her off.
Sighing, Sam flipped her phone shut and took a moment to idly survey the apartment door she had arrived at. It was going to be a long night.
---
"More to the left, Samantha. Back to the right a bit. Left again. Right. Just a smidge to the left – too far! Okay, perfect. Hmm. Maybe I should see it on that other wall again, just to be sure." Sam stared at her mother incredulously, trying to catch her breath. She smiled back saccharinely. "If you don't mind, Sammy."
"I thought you needed me for 'emotional support'. Not – erg!" Her small build trembled under the weight of the large frame as she hefted it from the wall. "Re..dec...orating."
Her mother sniffled loudly. "I thought it would be best if we grieved together. I know Poochie was like a brother to you." She threw her head back against the settee and sobbed for a few moments, finally punctuating the display by tipping the remained of her martini glass into her mouth and then sighing.
Sam rolled her eyes and set down the frame against the opposite wall, but before she could say anything a smaller frame caught her eye – the last picture of Simon that Carly had sent out, displayed proudly. Her mother had even gone so far as to decorate it with a little gold ruffle that made it stand out brightly.
"Samantha! My martini glass is empty." Sam sighed deeply and clamped her tongue between her teeth.
Her phone started ringing as soon as she snatched the glass from her mother's hand.
---
"Carly?"
"Sam, the radiator won't stop clicking at me..."
"Oh, you just have to give it a good kick and - "
"...so I called the police."
Sam stared blankly at the olive in her mother's now filled martini glass for the three seconds her words took to register. "You what?"
"I called the police."
"Carly... why?! You know how I feel about the police!" She shook her head a little. "I mean – Carly, you called the police on the radiator?"
"I didn't know what else to do! It's way too close to Simon's room. What if it exploded?"
Sam set aside the fact that the radiator was across the house and one floor down from Simon's room and swallowed the suggestion that the fire department might have been a better place to start.
"Carly. Okay. I'm coming home."
"What? No! The police are already coming anyway and your mom needs you right now."
"Her dog died, Carly. It's not like – like I kicked the bucket or something."
There was a moment pf palpable silence and then Sam could practically hear Carly shudder.
"Oh, Carly!" She chided.
"Don't say things like that!" Carly scolded right back. "Anyway, your mom's been there for us, Sam. We have to be there for her. Just – I'll tell the police it was a misunderstanding."
Sam sighed darkly. "Fine. Just don't let those pigs in our house."
"Sam!"
Sam smirked widely and said her goodbyes, scooping up the martini and tucking her phone into her pocket as she left the kitchen.
---
"Ah, perfect!"
Sam put her hands on her sides and bent forward to catch her breath. The frame was finally in place.
"Oh, Poochie!"
Sam stared in distaste at her mother, and then at the giant, gaudy picture. The mean little Pomeranian face looked back at her gloatingly.
"We always took good care of each other, didn't we, Poochie?" The tipsy woman had stood up to paw at the frame a little and muck up Sam's hard work. "I always wuved my wittle-kins! I miss him so much!" She threw herself bodily against the picture and it slanted sharply to the right. Sam braced her palms against her forehead in frustration.
"I think I was a good mommy," the woman suddenly said, voice clear and almost sure. Sam hands dropped away at the statement and she stood back in momentary incredulity. "I was a good mommy, wasn't I, Poochie?"
Sam's phone started to ring. She flipped it open immediately.
"Carly? I'm coming home."
---
When Sam walked in, the radiator was clicking at her. She paused a moment, kicked it sharply and then turned it off and on in one quick movement. The offending noise ceased. She tugged her jacket off and threw it onto the couch. The phone was sitting up on the coffee table with Dr. Johnson's number next to it.
She jogged up the stairs and along the hall to the bedroom she shared with Carly. Inside, just as she has suspecting, mother and son were cuddled closely together. Sam paused a moment to take it in; Carly fast asleep with her arms curved around their child, Simon cooing baby noising, his fist clumsily pushing into his mother's dark hair.
Sam kicked off her shoes and crawled in behind Carly, circling them both in her arms, the palm of her right hand resting on Simon's belly. Almost as soon as she touched him, Simon blinked and yawned, closing his eyes. Sam pushed her face into Carly's hair and breathed.
"I swear, Carly..." She grinned to herself. "You don't have to be the only good mom around here."