Disclaimer: If I owned iCarly, Sam and Spencer would be like married by now.

A/N: This story is very Spam-centric. It takes place when Sam is in her twenties and Spencer is...not in his twenties anymore. If you have a problem with the age difference, I kindly suggest you try another story and/or ship. Rated M for sexual references.

One Night

~* Sam *~

Her memories of the previous night were still somewhat muddled. She wasn't completely sure how she had gone from taking shots with her girlfriends to winding up naked in Spencer Shay's bedroom, but she wasn't all that concerned about the missing details. All she wanted was to savor this moment, this feeling of her lying sprawled next to Spencer with his arms around her. The mere realization that she had actually done it, that she had finally had sex with Spencer Shay was making her giddy, and her heart swelled with the knowledge of the closeness that they had shared.

She still couldn't believe it. After all the time she had spent dreaming about him, after all the years she had secretly pined for him, it was almost unreal to her that they had somehow managed to spend the night together. She turned to watch his sleeping face, so child-like, so carefree, so...Spencer. She reached out her hand and tentatively brushed away a strand of his long brown hair, careful not to wake him. And then, just as tentatively, she kissed him on the lips. Softly, slowly, and so gently that she was almost sure he wouldn't notice. Almost.

The sunlight was beginning to streak into the bedroom, like shards of glass shattering a dream. Sam was by no means promiscuous, but she had been unfortunate enough with the guys she had 'dated' to know that this was her cue to leave. She untangled herself from Spencer, who stirred but did not wake, and reluctantly began picking up her clothes that had been so carelessly discarded the night before. The dress on the floor, the panties in the bed, and the bra that, after several moments searching, had been found perching precariously on the windowsill, were all gathered and put back on in less than a minute. No small feat, but Sam certainly wouldn't stay around to gloat.

Because as happy as she was, it was morning now. A part of her wanted to stay in bed with Spencer forever, but the logical part of her brain knew that it could never happen. Guys like Spencer didn't take girls home to date or marry them, Sam knew this well. And even though Spencer had seemed so affectionate, so elated to be with her the night before, Sam was certain it had all been a lapse in his judgment, a drunken mistake that he would doubtlessly come to regret . No matter how much Spencer meant to her, she would always be nothing to him.

That was how it always had been. Sam watching from the side. Sam's heart breaking each time he came home with a new girl. Sam hoping some day he'd notice her the way he noticed everyone else. And she'd made sure he noticed her last night. She had looked so beautiful, and when he had drunkenly hit on her she had had no choice but to drunkenly accept. She'd made it look so casual, so effortless, but she had been waiting for even the slightest hint of interest from Spencer for years. Granted, she had always hoped that maybe one day he'd compliment her hairstyle or, heaven forbid, actually call her pretty or something. But if the only thing Spencer would ever want from her was a fling, she would still take it. She'd rather they have one night together than nothing at all.

Sam ran her hands through her rustled hair and checked her watch. It was a little after seven in the morning, a bit later than she had planned on staying, but still early enough that she wouldn't be in Spencer's way. At least she hoped.

The birds outside had already started to sing, but to her it seemed they were screeching; get out, get out, GET OUT! Sam couldn't help but be painfully reminded of her years doing iCarly. When she was younger, she had always viewed Spencer as an older brother, as a sort of hero she could look up to when the disappointing figures in her own home life let her down. Spencer, in turn, seemed just as happy to take her under his wing and treat her just like a little sister. Little Sister...

It wasn't until Sam had gotten older and started looking at Spencer differently that she realized he was beginning to shy away from her. Their kid-like banter was soon replaced with awkward silence, and it became painfully obvious that Spencer felt on edge, even uncomfortable, whenever Sam was around. Sam could only guess that, to her horror, he had realized her attraction to him and was shutting her down because he didn't feel the same way. He was always friendly, always cordial to her, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she was overstaying her welcome every time she stopped by. Just like she was doing now...

The mere idea of Spencer sobering up and politely but firmly asking Sam to get the hell out of his bed was too much for her to bear. Her pride couldn't stand it. And so, with her head held high, she tiptoed to the doorway, pausing only when she heard what sounded like sheets rustling on the bed. She turned to look back at Spencer and realized, with a jolt, that he was already awake, watching her with guarded eyes. He seemed like he was still in a stupor, but that look of apprehension and guilt that she remembered from all those years ago was still there. That look brought back a world of hurt and bad memories for Sam, and whatever fleeting thoughts of Spencer liking her for anything other than a fling vanished on the spot.

If there was one thing she'd learned in her life, it was that it was better to hurt than be hurt. Spencer doesn't like you anyway, silly thing. The cold voice of logic cut through her thoughts. You've always known it's a different girl every week with him. Lucky you that this week was yours, but it's over now. Time's up.

Sam met Spencer's gaze with a deceivingly calm one of her own. "Hey, Spence. Thank you for last night. It was...great seeing you again." She let out a sigh. "I'd better head out, though. Busy morning." She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, hoping against hope that Spencer would say something, anything that would make her think he wanted her there. Ask me to stay. Ask me to stay and I'm yours. Just ask me to stay.

Sam's heart pounded, and Spencer seemed to hesitate for a minute or two. But he wouldn't beg Sam not to go, wouldn't plead with her to stay with him. She knew it all along, but she still felt crushed when no further invitation came.

Spencer nodded. "Yeah, I have a really busy morning, too, but it was nice seeing you again." He paused, like there was something else he wanted to say but then thought better of it. "Take care of yourself, Sam."

Take care. The words stung like he had physically hit her. She blinked, trying very hard not to cry, and gave Spencer one last, sad smile before turning on her heel and slipping through the door. She made it as far as the lobby before she broke down, tears streaming down her face as she walked quickly away. Away from the loft. Away from the one man who could make her feel as ecstatic and tormented as she had in her youth. Away from Spencer Shay.

~* End of Sam's POV *~

A/N: Stay tuned for Spencer's POV next chapter :)