I haven't been writing in a while - actually that's a lie, I've totally been writing. Just not finishing. I have around ten-thousand words of stories stocked up somewhere that I've never ever finished, but when I saw the promo to iOMG a couple weeks ago, I could not focus on anything but waiting for that episode to premiere.

I had the lowest hopes possible, because after iStart a Fanwar, how could I get my hopes up again?

But then BAM, that kiss. My reaction? -gasp- Just gasp. Wide eyed. Kind of like Carly, actually! :D So I was reading a couple of iOMG fics, and I didn't really.. um, I enjoyed them, but I didn't see them happening. So I thought I'd pop in my own. :) At the risk of being extremely unoriginal and overdone, of course!

But I don't mind.

Let me know what you guys think. Or if this is a shameful excuse to depict such an amazing, emotional, perfect scene the way Jennette and Nathan portrayed it.

- May Lily

Real

by May Lily

She doesn't really know how she ended up out there sitting on the steps drinking a water bottle like there's not enough time in the world. She faintly hears the leaves rustling as they blow across the courtyard and the soft chime of the clock ticking midnight.

It's peaceful and sometimes Sam tells herself that she doesn't want to be alone – because nobody ever wants to be alone- but right now, she needs this. She needs time to think. Because after Carly's attempts to hook her up with Brad and Freddie's insistence to help her, she begins to wonder if there is something wrong with her.

It's Brad and he's nice and polite and she has to admit that maybe he would be a little into her if she tried just a bit. He makes the sweetest, best tasting fudge she's ever tasted, and maybe if it was two or three or four years ago, she would've fallen for him in a heartbeat.

But not now.

He breaks into her thoughts, peeking his head out that old yellow door his eyebrows scrunched together in that cute boyish way he does. "Yo, yo," Freddie says, and she can't help but think how absolutely adorable he is in his own dorky-trying-to-be-cool way.

"Carly sent you to find me?" she asks, wearily, gripping her water bottle to supress whatever conflicting emotions she's feeling.

"Nope," he says, leaving the door to close behind him. She's too busy examining her water bottle, each little detail because she doesn't want to look at his face – doesn't want to be in love with him. It hurts too much.

"Oh, so you don't know we had a little argument," Sam responds, her face scrunching up a little bit in disgust.

"She told me about your little argument," Freddie clarifies, leaning against the brick wall. She realizes suddenly that he's not intending to leave anytime soon. He tucks his thumbs in his pockets, and the subtlety and normalcy in which he does it always irritates her. Things like that make him much more attractive to her. "I just said she didn't tell me to come find you."

She doesn't think much of what he says. There's no little spark of hope that maybe he cares about her, she just hears it. Relieved, maybe, is how she feels. Carly's not going after her, no questions, no need to give answers. She loves her best friend – but sometimes she wishes she wasn't so... eager.

"Good," she says, annoyed.

"Carly's right," he says quickly, looking at Sam expectantly. He knows her too well. He knows her reaction, and he's just waiting for it.

Sam groans loudly, wishing that her two best friends would just drop the subject. She feels as if she's building up and up and up, higher and higher and higher, and that she's going to reach the tip and fall off soon.

"Groan all you want," he replies, insistent.

"I don't care what you stupid Pearpad app says about me being in love," Sam snaps, annoyance clear in her expression. "I'm not into Brad like that."

She's so glad she has that water bottle because it's not exactly awkward, but she feels better that she has something in her hands, something to anchor her down and let her know that she's still in the real world. That she can't just stand up and say, Freddie, it's you. It's you, it's you, it's you!

But as expected, Freddie doesn't believe her. He sighs as if he's tired of her denial. "Lately, every time I tell you that Brad and I are doing something together, you want to come hang with us," he argues, as if that was enough proof.

"And that means I'm in love with him?" she argues back, defending herself.

"Well you hate me!" Freddie points out, his eyebrows scrunching up in that cute way again. She flinches, and it almost hurts the way he says it so quickly, so willingly, and she wants to tell him that he's got it all wrong. That he doesn't understand.

She sounds guilty when she replies, looking down at her water bottle, her voice low. "I never said I hate you."

"Yeah you have!" he says, so sure that she hates him that it almost kills Sam inside. She bites her lip, she wants to correct herself- she's not good at telling him what she means, I said I hate you, but I never meant it. But he keeps going on."Like 900 times! I still have the birthday cards you gave me that say, 'Happy Birthday, I hate you. Hate, Sam'"

Sam thinks that she should laugh, laugh it off and throw an insult and insist that she still hates him. But she's exasperated, she just wants to be alone and he's hurting her heart more than she can ever begin to tell him. He's too close and she wants him too much, and she swears she's losing her self control way too quickly way too easily. "Just leeeeeeave!"

"Fine. I'll leeeeeeeave," he says mocking her. And it's almost too easy.

"Bye," she says quickly, putting down her water bottle and watching him.

"But before I go..." Freddie adds and she groans. And there it was. She knows him too well that she knows that he won't leave without a fight. And that's exactly what she'll give him.

Sam stands up quickly, walking towards him and pointing at the door in that intimidating way that thirteen-year-old Freddie would've run from. But not this Freddie. "That's it," she snaps. "Get out of here before I do a double fist dance on your face."

He doesn't move an inch, staying put and staring her straight in the eyes. "You can threaten your double fist face dancing all you want," Freddie says, and she looks at him – because something's in his eyes, in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes – some kind of emotion that she's never detected before. "But Carly's still right."

He's on a mission and he's not going to stop until he gets out all he wants to say. His voice softens as he looks at her and her breath catches, because he's so close, she can smell his cologne and scent and it's overwhelming. "Look, I know it's scary for you to put your feelings out there, because you never know if the person you like is going to like you back," Freddie tells her, his eyes intense that she can't just tear her eyes away.

Instantly, she misses her water bottle, and she misses feeling secure because he's looking her in just that way. And she's never been so in love with someone so much that it hurts. Her head is spinning, and she can't help but think how wonderful this boy is – how much she wants to kiss those soft lips again, feel them, because it's been over two years of built up frustration and self control- and this used to be easier..

"Everyone feels that way. But you never know what might happen if you don't-"

And then she does it. It's rash, impulsive, and it's so Sam-like but so not Sam-like at all when she grabs his shoulders and kisses him. She doesn't know what she's doing or what's going to happen or the consequences or anything.

She doesn't know why she does it (it was those beautiful eyes and his soft voice – how on earth could she resist him?) or what he's thinking, oh god, she really doesn't want to know what he's thinking.. She doesn't know anything but that she wants this.

She wants this and him and his lips and them so bad it hurts. Is love supposed to hurt this much?

His lips are soft and welcoming and even though he's caught off guard, she feels his lips and something beautiful, sparkly, wonderful explodes inside her because this is so much better than her first kiss with him.

Freddie's not pulling away. His lips are moving softly against hers, like an instinct, though she can feel him, smell him, taste him. His body is so warm against hers and it's as if something snaps back into her brain when she realizes what she's doing.

Sam pulls back immediately, watching him cautiously- sees that confusion and puzzlement in his eyes and freezes. She's never been so terrified of him in her entire life. Because in that moment, with her shoulders tense and her arms frozen and her lips slightly open in a what did I just do, Sam realizes that she's not tough girl.

She's vulnerable – something she's never wanted to be. He could break her with just one word or one action or one step and she's afraid that if she moves, she'll trigger it. Afraid that if she makes a quick movement, it'll snap him into the real world and-

For the first time in her life, she's open and scared to death about it. Slowly, she pulls back and watches him.

Freddie loosens up a little, his shoulders falling back into place. A slight eyebrow raise."I-" he starts, but his words are lost on the way. He looks down at the ground, searching for the right words, before he looks up back at her.

And the silence, the awkwardness, it's killing her. Regret? Is that what she feels? She can't look him right in the eyes, so she says the first thing she can think of. "Sorry."

He considers her words for a slight second – doesn't want to say the wrong thing. "It's cool," Freddie says simply, and maybe she's imagining it- but she sees just the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

Sam doesn't run- she's not that kind, she won't run away, but she doesn't know what to do. She stands, watching him, waiting for him to move, to say something, but really, what is left to say? This isn't a joke, this isn't an iCarly show and this isn't a mutual kiss just to get it over with.

This is real and raw and true and now he knows and it's killing her that she's not getting a response. Just silence. "Please say something, Freddie," Sam murmurs, a pleading expression on her face. She's not quite sure what she wants him to say, but she knows that she just wants him to say something, anything.

"I.." Freddie attempts to start, though starting to gain coherency, is still in shock. "I guess we don't need that barn anymore.."

Confusion strikes her face, because of course Benson would say something that she wouldn't understand. "What?"

He takes a deep breath. "Sam-"

But she never gets to hear what he's about to say because as usual, in the worst time possible, Carly storms in the courtyard, her eyes wide and quick. She makes up some excuse about Gibby upchucking on Spencer and some cat that died of the flu and drags Sam out of there, quick, leaving Freddie behind to look up at the sky and think.

.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Carly says, her wide eyes serious, set on Sam's. She's expectant, waiting for her best friend to explain and tell her everything.

"Tell you what?" Sam asks, her face flushed from what went on to the courtyard. Carly's face isn't in a smile, but it isn't in a frown either. She looks tired, worried, confused all wrapped in one. She sighs loudly.

"I saw you guys," Carly clarifies.

Sam freezes – it's enough to have Freddie freaking out, but Carly too? She could almost die in embarrassment. She doesn't say anything, and somehow she hates this night. She hates how she has a loss of words and how she's scared and she sort-of-kind-of regrets her actions.

"If you were in love with Freddie, why didn't you just say so?" Carly asks, and the way she says it so easily discomforts her. It's weird how she says it, out in the open.

She wants to say it too – to test the water. "I'm in love with Freddie," Sam mumbles to herself, though it sounds more like a question than an actual statement. But it sounds so nice on her tongue, the words and how they fit together. She meets Carly's eyes again.

"Sometimes I feel like you're hiding things from me," Carly admits.

Sam sighs, running her fingers through her hair. "Carly, it's not like that," Sam says, weary. "It's not like that at all. I didn't even know myself. I don't even know now."

"But you-"

"Messed up," Sam sighs.

Suddenly, it's as if it hits Carly- the gravity of the situation. "You wanna talk about it?" Carly asks, the same question Sam had asked just a year before.

Sam gives her a tiny grin and nods.

.

He wants to tell her that he loves her back – oh god, does he want to. He knows what he's feeling when she kisses him that second time is definitely not just friendship. It's not just attraction or the tingles he feels down his back when Carly kissed him so long ago after he saved her life from a truck full of tacos. It's not the sweetness and tenderness of his first kiss with Sam on his fire escape that cool Seattle night.

This is nothing Freddie's ever felt in his fifteen years of living. This is real. It's real and shocking and catches him off guard and sweeps him off his feet so quickly that he never saw it coming from miles away.

He's never felt this passion, this yearning, this extreme pull to be with someone and this warmth coursing through his veins.

She loves him, she loves him, she loves him. She loves him and it's beautiful and this isn't a lie or a fantasy and it sounds so good in his ears – Sam Puckett loves Freddie Benson. SeddieSeddieSeddieSeddie and not Bram or Sad.

He's never been so glad to be wrong before. "Seddie," Freddie says aloud, a small smile on his face. "I think I could get used to that."

.

They're crazy in love, they're teenagers, and they kind of don't know what they're doing, but the possibility that something can possibly happen between them is too great and possible and exciting. Maybe he's confused about his feelings and he needs a little time to think, and she's a little too flustered and Carly's a little too confused, but it's coming. It's all coming together like a perfect puzzle piece and even though this is a little too complicated for them to deal with-

It's real. And this is only the beginning.

Seddie? It's happening. :)

Love,

May Lily