A/N-Helloooo, everyone. I haven't written anything in so long, and since I'm a tad bit obsessed sred (short for sreddie) i figured i'd write this, spur of the moment. more to come tonight or tomorrow. hope it's not too bad. i know it's kind of dramatic, but whatever. i think it'll be a two-shot.

"Weird, you agree with Carly," Sam announced bitterly as Freddie, once again, took Carly's side.

"Weird, you'd say that." Freddie shot back. Of course he would agree with Carly. Even with something as little as rating the dance videos that were sent in.

"I'm so sick of this," Sam grumbled to herself and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Freddie asked curiously.

"Like you'd care. Thanks for having me, Carly. I'll see you tomorrow." With that, Sam was out the door.

Freddie couldn't help but feel bad. At times he forgot, but Sam was a real person and she did have feelings. He looked to Carly, but she had already fallen asleep, so he went after Sam.

"Sam, wait!" Freddie caught up to her outside the building. "You're not walking home by youself, are you?"

"I am, actually. You and Carly can finish watching the videos by yourself."

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Why do you agree with Carly all the time?"

"It was just a stupid dancing video, Sam!"

"Yeah, but you take her side with everything, Freddie, even when she's wrong, and you know it." Sam stopped walking and turned to Freddie.

"That's 'cause I love her," Freddie said quietly, but it came out unsurely.

"No you don't, Freddie. You have a stupid crush that you can't get over. That's not love, Ok?"

"How would you know what love is, Sam? You don't have an ounce of love in your whole body!"

Sam looked offended and turned on her heel. She couldn't think of any insults like she usually could. All she wanted to do was go home. Sure, Freddie might think she's over reacting. But she was sick of him gushing over Carly and talking about how great she was. Like when he said Carly was classy and Sam wasn't. That really pissed her off.

"Wait, Sam, come on. Aren't you gonna insult me back? Tell me off? Sam?" Freddie tried, but Sam just walked faster. He was really concerned now. Something was definitely wrong, and it wasn't just about the dance video rating.

"Stop following me, Freddie," Sam ordered, rubbing her arms from the night's chill.

"Can't you tell me what's wrong? Or we can just forget it and shoot Wake Up, Spencer?"

"No, I'm going home."

"Sam, you know when I fight with you I don't actually mean anything I say, right? I'm just kidding around."

"That's not true." Sam stopped walking and faced Freddie. "You were right when you said I wasn't classy. So you obviously meant that." Sam looked him directly in the eye. He stuttered on his words, not knowing what to say. Sam wasn't exactly classy, so he did mean that. But it's not like everything else he always said about her was true. Taking his silence as a yes, Sam continued her walk.

"Sam, would you just listen to me?" Freddie ran up to her. Sam quickly turned around, grabbed Freddie's cheeks, and kissed him. She pulled away after a second and ran. Freddie just stood there, shocked. Sam kissed him. Sam, his friend-slash-enemy. Sam, the tomboy. Sam, his co-worker, if you will. The girl he looked forward to trading insults and bickering with every day. The girl he had known and fought with his entire life. Sam Puckette, the rude, obnoxious, hilarious girl. But what shocked him most of all about the kiss was that he liked it. A lot.