You don't understand. The idea was bugging me so much to make the iCarly crew little drunkies for the night. Here's the product - sorry if it may be OOC at some points, just try to enjoy. :)

Desserts

"And we are clear."

Freddie Benson hit a button on his video camera, finishing the broadcast stream from the iCarly studio. The show's two stars giggled mindlessly, pointing at one another.

"Seriously...there's frosting everywhere!" Carly exclaimed between giggles. The closing sequence in tonight's show featured Carly Shay versus Sam Puckett in a literal Cupcake War - each girl had been armed with twenty-five cupcakes; whoever pelted their opponent with more cake and frosting was the winner. By the end, it appeared as though Sam emerged victorious, though both had become so messy it was a little hard to tell.

"I know," Sam replied, licking a bit of bright blue frosting from her fingers, "It's awesome, right?"

"Totally awesome, except for the part where Sam threw a cupcake at my lens," Freddie's voice was bitter though there was a playful curve in his lips. Sam rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Whatever. If anything, your camera makes for a tasty snack."

Freddie chuckled, plopping himself down in the beanbag chair which managed to miss most of the frosting.

"Carls, I'm parched. Mind grabbing us juice or something?" Sam sat down in another beanbag chair, taking a bite out of a cupcake that managed to land right-side up on the floor.

"Yeah," Carly smiled, "I'll be right back. Try not to eat all of the clean cupcakes while I'm gone!"

"'Kay," Sam grinned, but once the brunette had been out of sight, Sam made a dash for her backpack on the opposite side of the room.

"What's the emergency?" Freddie asked, arching an eyebrow. "Did you suddenly remember your ham sandwich from lunch today?"

"Well, yeah," Sam said from over her shoulder, digging around in her backpack, "But I actually have something a little more fun with me than a ham sandwich tonight..."

She trailed off. By now, Freddie was absolutely puzzled. There were few things Sam found more fun than causing him pain or eating meat. Apparently, he was not prepared for this new addition to the list.

"Ta-da!" Sam proudly presented a near-empty bottle of Satan's Springs vodka. "Snagged from my mom's cabinet before school this morning. She's out tonight, so I doubt she'll notice."

Freddie's lips formed a perfect 'O' shape in utter surprise. "Sam! You brought thatinto school today? It was allowed?"

"Well, it wasn't like Briggs was about to go digging through my backpack as soon as I entered the building. She's learned her lesson after last time..."

Freddie shuddered at the painful memory. "Point taken. But - what - why?"

"'Cause it'd be fun," Sam answered simply, "But I need you to help me get Carly to agree to it. I knew she wouldn't allow it - look, we don't have to get so drunk we pass out or anything like that. Just enough to feel a little...buzzed."

The boy scoffed and crossed his arms. Buzzed. Right. There was no way Carly was going to agree to this - and he wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure his mother might disown him if he came back to apartment 8D with alcohol on his breath.

"Whaddaya say, Fredwardo?" Sam wiggled the bottle between her fingers, "Live a little. It's one Friday night."

The 'Fredwardo' pet name probably kept him more hesitant to answer than anything. "W-well...fine," He decided after a moment's pause. It'd be the first time he'd ever tasted alcohol. His mother kept away from the stuff - she probably only drank about ten glasses of wine in her entire life.

Sam's grin stretched from ear to ear. "Great!" She beamed, "So, when Carly comes back, you'll help me convince -"

"All we had was pom-cranberry and orange, so I brought up both because I wasn't sure which one -" Carly stopped herself mid-sentence as she entered the studio, eyeing the drink in Sam's grasp.

"Um, what is that?"

"A party in a bottle."

Carly scoffed, setting the drinks and glasses down on the table besides her. "Very funny, Sam. Seriously, where did you get that?"

"My mom, where else did you think? Not that it'd be too hard to get away with stealing a bottle of this from the liquor store down the street..." She trailed off in thought. "I'm surprised I haven't thought of that one before."

"Me too," Freddie interjected.

"Sam!" Carly's tone was inherently unamused, "There is no way we're going to be drinking that tonight. Spencer's downstairs, and if he finds out we're having that he'll -"

"Oh, Spencer won't care," The blonde tossed her hand nonchalantly, "Besides, there's not enough for us to get really trashed. I just figured it'd be fun, considering how you and Freddie have never touched a sip of alcohol before in your life and -"

"No way! Sam, we're going to get in trouble."

"C'mon, it's me! I'm your best friend, Carls. It's not like I'd ask you to do something I knew was outright dangerous."

Carly's hands flew to her hips as she gave the girl an incredulous look. "Oh, really? I find that hard to believe."

"Oh, please. I might tell Freddie to do something dangerous, sure...but not you," Sam replied. Freddie rolled his eyes and scoffed, though he didn't say anything. He knew it was the truth.

"It'll be mostly juice," Sam disregarded Freddie's reaction to her comment, which she'd been aware of, "Besides, there's not that much left anyway. Please, Carls? Let me break your drinking cherry?"

Carly sighed, defeated. "As long as you never say the words 'drinking cherry' together again...fine. A small drink."

"Great!" Sam sped over to the table, anxious to start mixing the beverages together. "So, it's your choice, you two. Pom-cranberry or orange?"

"You're the best web show co-host ever," Carly giggled, forcing a piece of cupcake into her friend's mouth.

"N-no, you are!" Sam laughed back, her mouth full of cake and frosting. She wasn't sure how many drinks she'd managed to get out of that used bottle of Satan's Springs - evidently, the three of them didn't need to drink too much to get that intoxicated.

"This is awesome." Freddie's eyes attempted focus on the two girls feeding each other cupcake. His glass of orange juice was near empty.

"Please, Freakward - don't tell me you're actually getting off on watching us," Sam's tried to make her voice stern, though the giggling seemed to undermine the seriousness in her tone.

"Shut up, am not," Freddie replied defensively.

"'Kay," Sam got up from her spot on the floor next to Carly, practically skipping to the vodka bottle on the table. Her face dropped when she noticed all of the contents were gone.

"Oh no!" She whined, disappointed, "It's gone! Look, Freddie. All of the Satan's Springs we had is gone!"

"Y-yeah, well, how many did you have?" He answered, finishing off his glass. "I think I had...um..."

"I dunno. I lost count. Carly, how about you?"

No answer.

"Car-lay!" Sam prodded her best friend resting in her bean bag chair. "Wakey-wakey!" Nothing.

"Oh, crap," Freddie began to panic. "Is sh-she okay?"

"I'm sure she is," Sam bent down to meet Carly's face, leaning her ear closer. "She's breathing. Guess she was just sleepy, or had a little too much."

"Uh-huh. She did seem kind of tired tonight."

"Yep," Sam plopped down in the soft chair next to Freddie, "Tough job being a Carly." She sipped the rest of her pom-cranberry juice in silence before realizing the moment was beginning to get awkward. She was drunk, sitting next to this kind-of-a-good friend of whom she enjoyed taunting mercilessly. Her best friend had passed and now Sam was stuck with Freddie alone.

Freddie, and her feelings, and the effects of drinking a few glasses of juice and vodka.

"So," She started, circling the rim of her glass, "Whaaaat's...up?"

"What's up?" Freddie rolled his eyes and nearly laughed, "Uh, I'm in the studio with you right now. Obviously."

"I know that," Sam replied, though she wasn't satisfied with his answer. "I'm asking you, what's...up?"

"Y-you're not making any sense," Freddie retorted, shaking his head. "You're d-drunk, Puckett."

"Not as drunk as you!' She exclaimed with a giggle, "It took me twice as much Satan's Springs to get me as bad as you. You're such a freakin' lightweight."

"It's not my fault my mom doesn't allow us to have wine in the house. Or beer. Or anything with the slightest bit of alcohol...except rubbing alcohol."

"Yep, I believe that one," Sam answered, dismissing the topic, "Want a cupcake?" She hurried towards the table, retrieving a single dessert she kept hidden from sight during the broadcast. As she bounced back towards Freddie, a small yellow cupcake with purple frosting sat in the center of her hand. It was probably the only cupcake left that hadn't been destroyed in their war.

"S-sure," Freddie smiled, accepting the dessert, "Thanks, Sam." He nearly finished it in one bite, frosting messily adorning his lips.

"What's up?" Sam sat down next to him and tried again.

"Stop asking me 'what's up.' I'm eating the cupcake you gave me, Sam Puckett."

"Is it good?"

"Very."

"I made that one special. For you." Sam could feel a rise of blood rushing to her cheeks. She couldn't tell if it was because she had too much to drink, or because of something else - so she blamed the former.

There was an awkward pause as Freddie finished eating his cupcake. It probably only lasted about ten seconds or so, though to Sam, it felt like ten hours. Impulsively, she broke the silence.

"I gotta tell you something." Her eyes were focused on the scenery in front of her, rather than Freddie's face. What was she looking at? - His video cameras. Okay. Video cameras. Video cameras.

"What is it?" Freddie's voice sounded genuinely curious. "Tell me, Sam."

"I like -" As she turned her head to meet his eyes, something held her back. Gees. It probably didn't help that she could barely focus herself at the moment, so when she looked at him straight on, it caught her more off-guard than usual. His eyes, and the feelings, everything was driving her crazy. So she focused on something else.

Purple frosting. It was a mess, leading from his cheeks and concentrating closer towards his lips. Purple frosting was everywhere.

"You got a little," She said, bringing a finger up towards her own mouth as a signal.

"What?" Freddie asked, "Oh - you mean frost -"

"I got it," Sam interrupted him, before realizing her own lips had planted themselves on top of his, eager to taste.

It was sugar. It was sugar and orange and the slightly bitter hint of Satan's Springs - but in the moment, it was him, too.

She pulled back and suddenly her eyes were wide. His expression mirrored hers - shocked, with perhaps the slightest trace of pleasure.

"Yeah, Sam, I think you got it."

Fin. Thoughts are appreciated. :)