Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: just a little something different.

Just Like All The Greats

by: the archduke

"Sam, pick up the phone. Seriously, this is an emergency, pick up the phone. You said you were going home, so pick up the god damn phone!" Freddie realized he was shouting and paused while he looked around, but only one person was paying any attention to him.

"Ok Puckett," he started at a lower volume, "I'm going to assume that you aren't there, and that you're not purposely trying to ruin my life. Why I think this, after years of evidence to the contrary, I don't know. But if there was any moment, a fraction of a second, during the time we've known each other where you didn't feel total contempt for me, help me out. I'm at the 3rd Street police station, and I need you to get down here. If anyone knows about getting out of trouble with the cops, I figured it'd be you."

Freddie closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. "Please Sam," he whispered, hoping her answering machine was recording everything. Then he hung up.

As the officer who was guarding him put the handcuffs back on and led him back toward the holding cell, Freddie cursed himself for his stupidity. What had he been thinking, basically pinning all his hopes on Sam Puckett, the most unreliable person he knew?

Twenty minutes later, Freddie sat in the holding cell by himself, glad that he was still a minor and away from everyone else. When he had been making his phone call to Sam, he couldn't fail to notice all the skeevy looking people who had been led around the police station by police officers. He fully admitted he was a sheltered momma's boy and the idea of being locked up with real criminals made him want to start crying. It seemed jail was making him more self-aware.

As he struggled to keep the tears at bay, he heard a commotion. The door to the holding area opened and an officer walked in, followed by a woman making a lot of noise.

"What have you done with my baby?! Where is my precious prince of a boy?! I'll sue all of you right out of a job if you've hurt my shining miracle!" The lady made no sense, and once he got a good look at her, he realized why. It wasn't Sam, or even his mother, who had come to his rescue. It was worse. It was Sam's mother.

"I just wanted to say again, Mrs. Puckett, how thankful I am you cleared everything up with -" Freddie began but was abruptly cut short.

"You can call me mom," she said while she totally ignored the road she was driving on and looked at Freddie with a smile. It was sort of a nice smile, if a bit deranged around the edges. "You really are adorable, aren't you? I just want to put you in my purse and carry you around like a shrunken head. And you're so polite! I did a fabulous job raising you."

Since this was maybe the third time he had met Sam's mom, and the first where they actually exchanged words, he was more than a little confused by what she was saying. She knew he wasn't really her son, right? He decided not to press the point since she had gotten him out of trouble with the police without his mom finding out. He had a feeling he would have rarely seen the light of day if his mom had found out he had been arrested.

He chose to ignore the reference to the shrunken head.

"Uh, sure. But, really, thank you for pretending to be my mom and getting me out of there. It was all a misunderstanding anyway, but they wouldn't let me leave until someone came to pick me up." Freddie was getting a little unnerved, because in the middle of his thank you, Sam's mom had begun to smooth his hair, while her other hand was typing away on her cell phone. He wasn't sure how they hadn't ended up on the side of the road in a ditch, since technically no one was driving.

He resisted the urge to grab the wheel and slowly moved as far away from her as possible. He gave conversation another shot.

"So, are you texting someone? Maybe you could wait until you drop me off at home?"

"Oh, I'm just letting your sister know that everything is ok. It's important that a family keep the lines of communication open." She punctuated her statement by giving him a light slap on the cheek, which he assumed was meant to be playful, but actually stung quite a bit. Sam probably couldn't help the way she was. Aggressiveness was embedded in her DNA.

What Sam's mom said finally registered with his brain. "Wait, my sister? Do you mean Sam?"

Sam's mom gave a tinkling laugh. "Of course, silly. How many other sisters do you have?"

It was official. The lady was a nut bar.

When they pulled up to Bushwell Plaza, Freddie hastily threw a "thanks again" over his shoulder as he opened the car door. He felt it was imperative that he get out of that car as quickly as possible.

Before he could jump out, a hand grabbed his shoulder and twisted him around. "Aren't you going to give your mother a goodbye kiss?" Sam's mom presented her cheek to him as she kept a firm grip on his upper arm.

Freddie didn't think he could have broken her hold (he really had to start working out; it seemed every female he came into contact with was stronger than him) so he just screwed his eyes shut and gave her a peck on her cheek. As soon as she let go of his arm, he scrambled out of the car and made his way up the front steps. Where he saw Sam and Carly, standing there with confused looks on their faces.

Sam's mom gave them one last bit of craziness. "Carly, make sure those kids of mine don't get into anymore mischief. Little scamps are more trouble than they're worth sometimes." She flashed a wide smile and then drove off.

The three of them stood watching until the car turned a corner. Freddie gave Sam a wide-eyed look. "Your mom should see a doctor. Preferably a psychiatrist."

Sam shrugged. "I've been saying that for years. She sent me a text telling me to meet my brother outside of Carly's place. Then she comes riding up with you and you're giving her kisses on the cheek. Does your mom know you're cheating on her with my mom?"

"Ha, ha," Freddie responded, slowly walking up the steps to the lobby. "Your mom got me out of jail, so I guess I owe her, but she kept on thinking I was her son. It was weird."

"Wait," Carly said. "Why did Sam's mom get you out of jail? And what were you doing in jail anyway? Do I have two delinquents for friends now? 'Cause I don't think I can handle that."

Freddie brushed aside her worry with his hand. "It was a misunderstanding. I left a message on Sam's home machine, because they confiscated my cell phone and somehow that was the only number I could remember that wasn't my own. And I wasn't calling my mom to pick me up at the police station." He nodded towards Sam. "I guess your mom heard the message and decided to help me out."

Sam and Carly shared a look. "Ahh," they said at the same time. At Freddie's confusion, Sam clarified. "My mom used to want to be an actress. She used the Method acting style, where the actor basically becomes the character they play. She was just really getting into character. Mystery solved."

The mystery might have been solved, but Freddie still thought Sam's mom could benefit from some professional help.

A/N 2: hope you all liked it.