Title: The Best of Intentions
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Carly/Sam, Freddie, Gibby, Mrs. Benson, Spencer
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Carly comes up with a plan to help Freddie, but the results aren't quite what she intended.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,500
Spoilers: The iLost My Mind promos and through season 4 ignoring iOMG.
A/N: Because apparently when helionwolfchild says "Jump.", I do. So as requested, my response to the iLost My Mind promo. Also, for IDF.

Looking at his watch for the fifth time in ten minutes, Freddie tries to ignore the cute girl sitting across from him. Normally he'd be elated to be on a date with a pretty blonde, but when said blonde was chosen by his mother, that changes everything.

It doesn't help that they seem to have nothing in common, he thinks as she rambles on about her bunny Willow.

Freddie just has to make it until the check comes and then he can end the evening. Freddie glances around, frantically looking for their waiter. Knowing there is an end to the evening is the only way he's survived.

Disgusted with another wasted Saturday night, Freddie goes directly to Carly's instead of facing his mother; he's just not ready for that at the moment.

He finds Sam stretched out on the couch with her head in Carly's lap. He flops down next to them with a sigh as he lays his head on Carly's shoulder.

"Didn't go well?"

"She didn't know how to program a VCR," Freddie says.

"Why would she need to?" Carly asks.

"She's technologically retarded," Freddie continues. "She said her little brother had to program her cell phone. She just likes it because it's pink and sparkly."

"Oh."

"I'm dead," Freddie groans.

"Why?"

"Because my mom isn't going to stop until she finds me the perfect girl."

"A bag of flour with a wig?" Sam offers.

"How come?" Carly asks.

"The Benson family reunion is next month. She wants me to have a girlfriend. My lack of dating and later on, a lack of a wife, will reflect badly on her. It's seen as a failure in the Benson family."

"Um…"

"Mom usedto be married. That's enough," Freddie explains.

"That's jank," Sam says. "It's not her fault that you're completely undesireable."

"Sam," Carly snaps. "Apologize."

"I'm sorry," Sam mutters. "That you're completely undateable."

"You're lucky Carly's here," Freddie tells her.

"Or what?" Sam asks. "You'd jump up and run out of the room?"

"Whatever, hell spawn," Freddie mutters.

"You should just get a fake girlfriend," Sam jokes. "That would totally get her off your back."

"Or," Carly says, standing. "Wefind you one."

Sam rubs the back of her head where it fell when Carly stood, watching Freddie get up as well.

"Say what?" he asks. "And where?"

"Someone that already knows you," Carly thinks out loud as she turns slowly. "Someone your mom knows." Carly's eyes fall on Sam. "Someone who would totally go along with it, but there'd be no hard feelings when it's done."

"I see," Freddie grins.

Sam notices their eyes on her. "What? No fucking way!"

"Sam…"

"No way, Carls," Sam protests. "It's Fredwina."

"Exactly," Carly says. "Our friend who we want to help out."

"Then why don't you date him?" Sam asks.

"It wouldn't be believable," Carly answers.

"But it would be for Satan?" Freddie questions.

"Of course," Carly says. "It's classic playground rules."

"Qué?" Freddie asks.

"When a boy likes a girl, he pulls her pigtails on the playground," Carly explains. "Or in thiscase, when a girl likes a boy, she pushes him off stools and smacks him around."

"I'm very violent with those I like, it seems," Sam muses. "Maybe you should be worried, Cupcake."

"But by that logic, Sammy really does like me," Freddie says.

"You wish, Fredwad."

"Apparently youwish, Puckett."

Sam jumps up and lunges at him, causing Freddie dodges her. She then begins chasing him around the couch. They circle several times before Carly reaches out and pulls Sam back down to the couch.

"Stop it, you two," Carly says. "It's a good plan. We're doing it."

"Wait," Sam says. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"Nope. We're doing this."

"I don't want to date her."

"I don't want people to think I actually like Frederica," Sam adds. "I mean, I do have standards."

"You two are dating and that's final," Carly tells them.

Neither Freddie or Sam are convinced when Freddie leaves an hour later, but Carly's convinced she can change their minds.

Sam's spending the night since Spencer's at some sort of sculpting convention and Carly hates being in the apartment by herself over night.

"Please," Carly pleads.

"I don't get it Shay," Sam says. "Why are you pushing this so hard?"

"I want to help Freddie," Carly answers. "And don't you think you owe him for all the trauma you've put him through?"

"No," Sam replies. "He's a noob."

"Well you're doing it," Carly says.

"What? If I don't, you'll Lysistrata me?"

"How do you even know what that means?" Carly asks.

"Melanie."

"Right. Of course. And hell yeah."

"Whatever, I can handle it," Sam scoffs.

"Says the girl that pulls me into the bathroom stalls during lunch," Carly accuses.

"That's your fault," Sam protests. "You were like insanely hot that day."

"Thanks."

The next morning Freddie bursts in without knocking.

"That's it," he announces. "I'm in."

"What happened?" Carly asks peeling an orange as Sam devours half a pound of bacon.

"I found the list of girls that my mom has as possible girlfriends. It's two pages long. She's actually going to make me go out with like fifty girls before that stupid reunion."

"Might as well," Sam quips. "Only way girls will go out with you."

"Quiet or I'll lick the rest of your bacon," Freddie tells her.

"Not even yourcooties could stop me from eating bacon."

"Anyway, I'm in," Freddie tells Carly.

"Good," Carly replies. "We just have to work on this one."

"Great. It's hopeless then."

"I'll wear her down," Carly assures Freddie.

"If you mean that in any sort of sexual context, leave me out of it," Freddie says.

Sam grins saucily at Freddie as she grabs more bacon.

Twelve hours later, Sam is almost ready to give in. The most Carly has allowed today is hand holding. Sam's hormones find this very frustrating. And the fact that they're not taking advantage of the empty apartment doesn't help.

"Will you just agree already so we can make out?" Carly asks. "You're so stubborn."

They're currently sprawled out on the couch, barely touching. It's almost surreal.

"It's Fredifer," Sam whines.

"What if Freddie gives you ten bucks?" Carly tries.

"Fifty."

"Twenty-five," Carly counters.

"Deal. Want to kiss on it?"

"Later," Carly replies, standing. "I've got to text Freddie and let him know you're in."

"I already don't like this," Sam calls after her.

"This isn't working," Freddie complains.

Carly agrees, though she won't say it out loud. Instead she replies, "It's because you two aren't even trying.

It's Monday after school and Carly's supervising as Sam and Freddie practice dating.

"Because I don't want to," Sam protests.

"And I'm afraid if I touch her, I'll end up bruised," Freddie adds.

"You already agreed, Sam," Carly argues.

"So?"

"So some follow through would be nice."

"Well not being forced to agree would have been nice too," Sam counters.

"I gave you twenty-five bucks," Freddie points out.

"I didn't hear you coming up with anything better," Carly tells Sam.

"Well, I didn't hear you ask for my opinion," Sam replies.

"Maybe if you came up with something that didn't involve violence all the time, I would," Carly counters.

"It just it speeds the process along," Sam shrugs.

"Not this time, it won't," Carly replies. "Now you and Freddie are going to talk. And not insult each other."

"Fine," Sam grumbles.

Sam and Freddie are sitting on opposite ends of the couch while Carly paces around the room. Neither speak.

"Maybe try sitting closer," Carly suggests.

Sam grumbles a few R rated things under her breath and scoots over as Freddie does the same.

"How was school today, Freder-I mean, Freddie?" Sam grits out.

"It was fine," Freddie replies, monotone. "How was your day?"

"It was fine too."

"Did you get into any trouble today?" Freddie asks.

"I did not."

"Didn't get caught?"

"I did not," Sam tells him.

"How fortuitous for you," Freddie replies.

"I think so," Sam agrees.

Carly groans and slumps into a chair. It's going to be a long afternoon.

"There's no way in hell," Sam says.

"You're going to have to eventually," Carly points out. "Practice can't hurt."

"I'd rather kiss Gibby," Sam replies.

"Kissing Freddie is no big deal," Carly tells her.

"To you," Sam growls. "Because you don't have to."

"But I do have to watch my girlfriend kiss my best friend."

"You're enjoying this too much."

"This really isn't doing anything for my ego," Freddie interrupts.

"If only I cared," Sam replies.

"Sorry, Freddie," Carly says. "It's nothing personal."

"Yeah it is," Sam says.

"It's fine," Freddie replies. "I'm used to the demon's attitude."

"How about you kiss my fist instead?"

"Worried you'll like it?" Freddie mocks.

"That I'll vomit, actually," Sam replies.

"God," Carly groans. "It's not like you guys haven't kissed before."

"That's different," Sam protests.

"Definitely," Freddie agrees.

"I don't care," Carly says. "For this to work, you're going to have to be affectionate."

"I'm upping my price," Sam says.

"Too late," Freddie replies. "You already agreed."

"Besides you know what happens if you back out," Carly adds.

Sam glares first at Freddie and then Carly before saying, "Fine."

"Thank you."

"If I knew what a manipulative bitch you are," Sam says. "I would have kissed you even sooner."

"Awww, you say the sweetest things," Carly replies.

"You two are even weirder than I thought," Freddie says.

"Thanks Winifred."

"So are we going to practice or not?" Freddie asks.

"I really don't want to kiss Fredzilla here," Sam says.

"Too bad. You have to," Carly replies.

"I'm not looking forward to it either," Freddie adds.

"Kissing me is the closest you'll ever get to kissing Carly. You know, vicariously."

"You're a real bitch today," Freddie replies.

"So are you."

"Holy crap, you two," Carly interrupts. "You know what? I'm going to the bathroom. While I'm gone, you're going to figure this out. Aren't you?"

"Sure," Freddie says.

"Whatever."

"Sam."

"I mean, of course."

"Good," Carly nods and stalks out of the room.

"Let's get this over with," Sam says.

"Maybe it'll be easier now that Carly's out of the room," Freddie says.

"What makes you say that?"

Freddie shrugs. "It feels weird to kiss a girl while her girlfriend is watching andencouraging."

Sam smirks. "That's Carls for you. She must really like you Frederico."

"Feeling's mutual."

"Let's not get all mushy here."

"I'm going to kiss you now," Freddie says. "Just a quick peck, I promise."

"Starting small," Sam says. "I like."

Freddie leans in and barely touches their lips together. It seems to last less than a second.

"Not so bad, right?" Freddie asks.

"Well, I don't want to puke, so yeah."

"High praise indeed, Puckett."

Spencer wakes up to auguring. He got back really late last night, so he managed to sleep away a lot of the day. Looking at the time, he assumes Carly's home from school. And judging by the bickering, Freddie and Sam are over.

He rolls off his bed onto the floor, managing not to smash his face into the carpet. He sits up and goes to say hello to Carly.

He's in the doorway of Carly's bedroom, but doesn't see Carly. Before he can announce himself, he witnesses Freddie lean in and kiss Sam.

His jaw drops, but no noise comes out. Without thought, he scrambles backwards and hurries back to his room.

He crawls back into bed, hoping it's a bad dream and he'll wake up.

He tries really hard, but he doesn't wake up.

After Sam and Freddie take off, Carly plops down on the couch to do her homework. Spencer suddenly appears next to her. He practically drapes himself over her, making it difficult for her to continue with Algebra.

"Can I help you?" Carly finally asks.

"Actually," Spencer says. "How can I help you, kiddo?"

"Let me finish this?"

"What about you?" Spencer asks. "What do youneed?"

"An A in this class," Carly answers.

"We're not talking about school."

"Well, I am," Carly shoots back.

"I know about Sam and Freddie."

"You what?"

"I know they're dating," Spencer explains.

"Uh… oh."

"Exactly," Spencer says. "How are you holding up, Buckaroo?"

"It's fine."

"You don't need to be such a brave little toaster," Spencer continues. "Your big brother is here to comfort you. You can cry on my shoulder."

"I'm fine," Carly repeats. "We don't need to talk about it."

"I can understand how such a betrayal by your best friend and your girlfriend could wound a girl," Spencer says. "Which is why I'm offering some big brother type comfort."

"No thanks."

"It's adorable how stoic you're being, Spencer says. "But there's no need to."

Carly sighs. "Is there anything I can say that will make you back off?"

"No. Because I'm here for you little sis."

Carly pushes Spencer off her, gathers her books and stands. "I'll just finish this in my room."

Spencer watches her walk away. "Poor brave little toaster."

Wednesday morning, Mrs. Benson makes Freddie her special oatmeal breakfast.

"This will provide an excellent start to your day, sweetie," she says, setting the bowl in front of him.

Freddie just barely holds back a groan. His mom's oatmeal is disgusting.

"And I've set up another date for you," Mrs. Benson says. "Tomorrow night."

"That's not necessary, mom," Freddie replies.

"I know the last one didn't go well, honey, but this one will be better. I promise."

"That's not what I mean, mom."

"You have to have a girlfriend before the reunion, Freddie. We've already discussed this."

"What I mean," Freddie says. "Is that I started seeing this girl."

"What? Who?"

"We just started going out," Freddie replies. "Could we wait a few days before I introduce you?"

"I suppose that's fair," Mrs. Benson allows.

"Thanks mom."

"Eat your oatmeal."

Wednesday afternoon, they try again. And in Carly's mind, they're making some progress. Sam and Freddie are at least sitting within an arm's length of each other on the couch. Unfortunately, they don't have time for the slow burn. So Carly sits on the couch next to Sam and literally pushes her closer to Freddie.

"Jeez, Carls, pushy much?" Sam asks.

"You guys have to look as if you like each other," Carly answers. "Especially now that Freddie told his mom. You know she won't be put off long."

"Fine," Sam grumbles, uncrossing her arms. She then lets her right hand drop onto Freddie's left.

Carly watches Freddie flinch and try to pull his hand away, but Sam seems to tighten her grip and his hand doesn't move.

"Progress," Carly says. "Sorta."

Thursday morning finds Freddie at his locker when Gibby ambles up to him.

"What's up man?" he greets. "I've barely seen you this week. I thought we were gonna hang."

"Sorry. Been busy."

"Wanna do something tonight?"

Freddie tries to hide his blush. "Can't. Busy."

"Doing what?"

"Stuff."

"Such as?" Gibby presses.

"You know."

"No, I don't," Gibby answers. "That's why I'm asking."

"I'd rather not talk about it," Freddie says.

"Something embarrassing with your mom, then?"

"Yeah. Yeah. That's it."

"Hey, it's cool. I understand," Gibby says.

"Hey Fredwich," Sam says, walking up to the pair. "We're still on for tonight, right?"

"Yeah."

"Later Fredward." Nodding, Sam continues to her locker.

When Freddie turns to Gibby, he's grinning widely. "You and Sam? Oh yeah."

"Try to keep it on the DL," Freddie replies.

"Of course. Of course," Gibby assures him. "Nice job, Benson."

Freddie groans as Gibby walks away. They'd decided no one else would know. And even though he wants to be mad at Sam, how could she have known what he and Gibby had been talking about. Though she should have known, he'd draw that conclusion. He shuts his locker and hopes for the best.

Carly can't believe she's here. She's sitting alone at a table watching her girlfriend and best friend order dinner. When the waiter approaches her, she just orders soup and water. She can't believe she was talked into chaperoning.

"Guys," she hisses. "Can I go now?"

"But you just ordered soup," Freddie points out.

"We need a buffer," Sam adds.

"But I'm not even at the table," Carly replies.

"Well because we've made progress," Freddie explains.

"Yeah."

"So what? I'm just supposed to sit here and wait for you two to have a fight so I can settle it?"

"Pretty much," Sam nods.

"We'd really appreciate that," Freddie adds.

Since this whole thing was her idea to begin with, all Carly can do is grumble. "Fine. But the soup better be amazing."

Freddie is working on his web show with Carly and Sam, so Mrs. Benson decides a trip to the store is in order. They're almost out of prune pops.

She steps into the empty elevator and hits the button for the lobby.

Suddenly the lights flicker as the elevator stops. Then the lights go out. Mrs. Benson fights off panic as she tries to find the emergency phone.

The lights flicker back on and suddenly she's no longer alone in the elevator.

It's a teenage boy dressed in a trench coat, tie and fedora, holding a ridiculously large flashlight. He looks vaguely familiar. She wonders if he's friend of Freddie's

"Where did you come from?" she asks.

"We need to talk," he replies.

"Why the subterfuge?"

"I didn't want to be overheard."

"Um…"

"I'm worried about your son," he says. "Do you know what he's doing right now?"

"Working on that web show with those girls."

"Actually it's much worse than that, Mrs. Benson," he replies. He pulls out a green pear pad, glides his fingers over the screen and holds it up to her. "Your son Freddie is dating Sam."

Looking at it, Mrs. Benson sees a picture of Freddie and Sam, holding hands at a fancy restaurant. And that Carly girl is nowhere to be seen. Horrified, she does the only thing she can think to, she screams.

When the food comes, there isn't a lot of conversation. Both Freddie and Sam have been wanting to try this restaurant; that being the first thing they can agree on. So, in an unconscious, but very coupley move, the both order food and split it with each other.

At her little table, Carly watches Freddie and Sam, who seem to be getting along better. Though, food always seems to make Sam a bit calmer.

Carly watches them eat and smile at each other, chatting quietly. It's bizarre and more than once, Carly has the urge to pinch herself to make sure she's not dreaming.

She never is.

They split up when the leave the restaurant. Freddie waves as he heads home and Carly goes home with Sam.

It's not too often that she spends the night at Sam's. Sam spends half her life fighting with her mom, so sometimes it's just easier to avoid the place. Pucketts' can fight, that's for sure and being the peace keeper she is, it's difficult for Carly.

Sam seems to understand and never pushes. So Carly knows she surprised Sam by asking. She just wants to spend time with her girlfriend without her brother's prying eyes. Now that he thinks Carly and Sam have broken up, he's been extra clingy. She appreciates the sentiment, but since it's not true, it's just annoying.

"So you're datewent well tonight, huh?" Carly teases.

"Better than I thought it would," Sam admits. "It's a bit frightening."

"Definitely."

"Have I lost my mind?" Sam asks.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, it's Freddork, Carls," Sam explains. "And we spent like three hours together. And we got along."

"I know," Carly says, wryly. "I was there. Remember?"

"Hey, this whole thing was your idea."

"Why must you make helping out a friend sound so terrible?"

"Because it involves me being on a date with the Fredster when we would have been back here instead, very naked."

"Sam."

"Like you weren't thinking it."

Carly spends Friday being thoroughly weirded out. It seems that the fake date went better than she thought. Sam hasn't insulted or assaulted Freddie all day. Maybe this plan will work after all.

"…I just don't understand why you need a faster processor," Sam says.

"Because I want to do things faster," Freddie replies.

Sitting in class, waiting for last period to start, Carly watches them argue. It seems that'll never change.

"But you said what you have now is instantaneous," Sam reminds him. "What's faster than instantaneous?"

"I don't know," Freddie shrugs. "But I definitely want to find out."

"It's probably the exact same thing, but in a shinier case," Sam tells him. "They're just stealing your money."

"There are other things besides the speed," Freddie argues.

"Fine, you can choose the color. Big deal."

The bell rings and their teacher enters, cutting off the argument. They both face forward and look like proper students and Carly's left staring at them, slack jawed.

Friday Sam follows Carly home per usual since they have a show that night. There's a bit of joking between Sam and Freddie that Carly tries not to be jealous since Sam is currently holding her hand.

The problem is that the relaxed teasing between them doesn't seem to let up. Carly also notices that they're exchanging causal touches occasionally. If it was anyone but Freddie and Sam, it wouldn't be a big deal.

Carly tries to ignore the pit of jealousy that's growing in her stomach.

Especially since she's been hoping for something like this for years. She knows she should be grateful that everything seems to be working out so well. Maybe if she tells herself this enough, it'll be true.

This thought process seems to working well until she witnesses something she never thought she'd see.

Freddie is crossing the studio, a cord in his hand and he passes by Sam who's is drinking a soda. As he passes, Freddie pauses and leans in to give Sam a peck on the lips. Sam doesn't stop him, but instead leans into it.

Carly's jaw literally drops. Sure the illusion of them being a couple is quickly broken by Freddie's, "Well?"

"I didn't hurl," Sam replies.

They actually kissed. Without prompting. She's so shocked it takes almost a minute to shake herself back into reality and able to focus on the show.

Mrs. Benson has been barely holding back panic for the past twenty-four hours. Her Freddie cannot be dating that she-demon. Trying to push it out of her mind, she tries to go about her usual Friday night activities. Unfortunately, one of those things is watching iCarly.

Watching the blonde bounce around the screen, Mrs. Benson wonders again why Carly Shay can't love her son back. She's such a proper young lady, perfect for Freddie; while Sam Puckett is hell in sneakers and is a horrible influence on Freddie.

After about ten minutes she can't take it anymore and shuts it off. She just needs something else to distract herself with. Maybe it's time to rearrange Freddie's socks and underwear according to date bought instead of color.

"…and… we're clear," Freddie says, setting down his camera. "Another great show."

"Thanks Freddikins," Sam smirks.

"Yeah, thanks Freddie," Carly adds absently.

"Something wrong, Carly?" Freddie asks.

"What? No. Course not."

"You sure? Because you look… odd," Freddie continues.

"Yeah," Sam adds joining Freddie. She leans against him as they wait for Carly to look at them.

Carly does look up and sees Sam leaning into Freddie. "That's it!" Carly exclaims. "It's over."

"Uh, what is?" Sam asks.

"You pretending to date him," Carly replies.

"Uh, why?" Freddie asks.

"Because I don't like how close you've gotten."

"You've been trying to get us to act friendly for years, Carls," Sam says. "Now that we finally are, you're mad?"

"Look at you two," Carly replies.

Sam and Freddie look at each other. "What?" they ask in unison.

"That's exactly it," Carly says, pointing. "You're getting along too well. It's creepy. And weird. And I don't like it."

"You're jealous," Sam says, incredulously.

"I am not."

"You are," Freddie says, smirking.

"As if I'd dump you for him," Sam adds. "No offense Fredward."

"None taken Sammy."

"OMG," Carly groans. "What have I done?"

"Hey this whole thing was your idea," Sam points out.

"I know," Carly agrees. "I didn't think it would bug me so much."

"Hey, we can stop anytime," Freddie says. "We'll just have to come up with a different plan."

"Yeah?" Carly asks. "You sure?"

"Course," Freddie replies. "I didn't want this to turn into some crazy girlfriend drama."

"Who would have thought?" Sam muses. "It's been nice fake dating you Fredachino." Sam offers her hand.

Freddie accepts it and they shake. "Same here, Puckett."

"That's it! It's over!"

Sam and Freddie jump apart at the intrusion.

Standing in the doorway is Freddie's mom looking irate.

"Mom. What are you doing here?"

"I tried to stay calm about this, but I can't help myself," Mrs. Benson says. "You are forbidden from dating her." Mrs. Benson points at Sam. "She is the devil and I won't let her corrupt my little boy."

"Mom, I'm fine."

"I don't care. You are to stop seeing her."

"You aren't serious," Freddie protests.

"I am."

"Well I'm not going to," Freddie replies.

Mrs. Benson gasps.

"Not unless you do something for me," Freddie continues.

"What's that?"

"Stop setting up blind dates," Freddie answers. "I don't need a girlfriend before we go to the reunion."

"But you do," Mrs. Benson protests.

"Those are the terms," Freddie replies. "If you start setting me up again, I'll just have to go over to Sam's house."

Mrs. Benson gasps again and clutches her chest. "You wouldn't."

"I would," Freddie nods.

"Fine," Mrs. Benson says, finally. "If you end it with this thing, I'll stop with the blind dates."

"Deal," Freddie replies. He turns to Sam. "No hard feelings?"

"I'll do my best to survive without you," Sam smirks.

Freddie turns to his mom. "Okay?"

"Thank you. I'll just leave you three to clean up. Freddie I expect to see you in exactly thirty minutes."

"Good-bye mom."

Once Freddie's left, Carly drags Sam downstairs and pushes her on the couch.

"Uh, what's up, Cupcake?" Sam asks.

"You kissed Freddie," Carly answers.

Sam nods. "You told me to."

"Well," Carly replies, straddling Sam. "We're kissing until I can get that image out of my head."

"Works for me," Sam smirks.

And so when it's finally time for the Benson family reunion, Freddie goes girlfriendless and it's not the judgmental express that his mother described. He figures he should be surprised, but he's long ago become used to his mom's exaggerations. So he drinks some grape soda and watches cousins he just met run around, high on sugar. It's not a bad afternoon.