A/N I've been working on iApuckettlypse and getting iWTF ready for August 13th and this idea hit me. Not sure about it, but the appeal to me was immediate. It takes place a few weeks after iLMM so it may be total chiz in terms of where the show is going, but fear equals no fun in WhiteKnightro's Rules of Conduct. The goal for me will be to try and launch additional chapters as drafts to show the evolution of a written work. It's kind of a Rhet/Comp experiment. Many people have written to say, "Whitey, how do you write such inspired, original, lyrical fanfic? What is your process?" Okay, NO ONE has ever said that, but if they do, I can point them at this. It's how I write stuff.

the FanFic site is messing with some of the .com addressing stuff I'm using to make it look like e-mail but I'll adjust for that.

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, but if I did, wow, some people would be mad.

iCan't Send This

Chapter one: First Raw Draft

To: HamFan

From: Freddie

Subject:

Sam,

I'm gonna start out with saying that I'm never going to send this letter. It has a lot of stuff that would make you mad. I'm not really scared that you'll break my arm—I don't think- but I don't want you mad at me either. It isn't that you being mad at me isn't something I'm used to, I just don't like the idea of us being on opposite sides. Which is pretty weird if you think about it, I mean, you and I have always had a well, we tend to be on different sides, historically.

I actually like arguing with you about almost anything. It was always fun, even when you would conclude the argument with some kind of corporal punishment. Your eyes flash when you're mad, did you know that? An angry Sam is so hard not to look at. I look at you a lot now, I stare a lot, and I think that's weird too.

I like all the names you call me, not dork so much, but the games with my name. Fredwich, Fredifer, Fredly, Fred-o-matic, Frederella, Fredface. How would you feel if I called you Samantha, Sammy, Samson, Samsonite or Samtastic? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Until we started kissing so much. Which, is really, really cool. Not just because you're pretty, kissing any girl rocks, but, well, I've only kissed a few girls, and, I'm getting lost here.

I don't even know what this letter is about, but you and I have been dating for a few weeks now. And I have to tell you I NEVER thought those words would apply to you and me. Don't get me wrong, I like it, and that's part of why I'm writing. I like dating you, I like YOU, more than I ever thought I could when doing the show or being tricked, or slapped or pelted with objects. I'm still kinda cheesed about the electric shock pen that dropped me, but, anyway, I never thought of you and me like that, y'know, the good way?

You know I don't have a lot of experience with girls, I mean I've had a few dates and I can talk to girls better than I used to, but I never thought I'd end up with someone like you. When I was chasing after Carly it seemed like she was the right type, y'know? Good grades, college bound, being pretty was a bonus, but when we dated for that hour or whatever it was, it was, empty or something. You knew that. You are wicked smart Sam Puckett, in ways that standardized tests can't measure.

I've never asked you when you started liking me. Something that scares me and I never want to tell you this, I wonder if this came on so suddenly maybe it will go away the same way. I really hope not, because I like this. I like it a lot.

and that isn't something I've thought about much. I've spent lots of time thinking

The dress you wore that night

Visiting you at Troubled Waters

I want to cook for you, but what would I make?

All my life I've been pretty sure what I was going to do. I'm a nerd and I'm going to college to do some nerd thing. You have shaken all that up. Sometimes I look at you laughing with Carly, drinking an Uber Blueberry Blast (how do you do that? Why don't you weigh 300 pounds?), sleeping on the couch and I see my life as this whole other thing with limitless possibilities. When I'm with you I think, _If I can be with this wild, gorgeous lady, there isn't anything I can't do._

Thanks for having the courage to kiss me that night.

Thanks for keeping kissing me. I don't know if you are enjoying it, but you keep coming back so that has to mean something because you don't do things you don't like to do. You say what you want. I don't know if I can ever do that, but I hope I can. I don't know where this we, thing we have become is going, but I think it's special and I want it to last.

The night we ate at Nacho Business

I'm pretty confused these days and I like that. I mean, I have to plan stuff and lay out what I'm going to do. It's like putting the show together, or designing computer code. It has to be structured. You aren't like that. I can't put you in an If, Then, Else, statement because you do things that I don't always see as even possible.

Carly, I know you are sensitive about her

I'm really surprised to be sitting across from you some nights or side by side watching TV. I look at you a lot.

You are so funny. I've never told you that. You are so creative, some of the best iCarly bits have been yours. The other night we were watching that awful movie, I like bad movies for some reason, but watching them with you was, like, wow. You made watching them so fun. I tried my best to keep up with you, but dude, you are quick. It was like every dumb thing those characters did you had something to say. I knew I couldn't keep up, so I just kept feeding you facts about the actors and directors and you just ran with it.

On the Internet I found the video of the pageant you won. I should have been there that night. You can dance, Sam, and that rap you did at Kenan Thomson's house, that was incredible. You keep reaching inside yourself and pulling out these moments. Sometimes I want to shout how amazing you are.

Butter. I sound like a girl. There is no way I'm sending this.

I admire you. You do things that I would never do, and because I've been with you. Jumping out of a plane (okay, you pushed me but I would have jumped on my own, eventually) staying in that roach motel, breaking into the photo studio, confronting the Dingo writers that were swiping our stuff, I would never do those things. You break the rules a lot and I, well I don't. Big surprise, huh?

Surviving your mom. My mom is her own kind of handful, but when I met your mom, when I see what you have grown up with, I want things to be better for you. I want to invent a time machine and go back and make your dad stay. I want to tell him how incredible you are and how he should stay so he see you grow into this wild, exciting person who, I really think is going to make a difference in life, I know because she has made a huge difference in mine.

Panties. I know you don't like the word, but, man, how do I type this? I've been thinking about panties. I mean, your…panties. I swear I don't mean this in a dirty way, my heart is beating so fast right now. I'm thinking thoughts that I never, that well, sure I think those thoughts, I'm a guy, but I never thought them about you. I mean, you are pretty, shoosh, you are way past pretty, that night at the lock-in when I was looking you in the eye but I never thought these kinds of thoughts about you before, I never, I mean, oh butter.

The other day you bent over and I looked down at your back, and, I, uhm, I don't think you were wearing, I could see…

No, I'm not sending this.

Freddie Benson

.com

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"These aren't the 'noids you're looking for"—Nug Nug.