IHire A Smart Chick

Freddie huffed yet another sigh as he walked through the doors of the PearPad store and headed for the Brilliance Bar with his backpack over his shoulder and his laptop tucked forlornly under one arm. He was back here again, trying to replace the precious PearBook that had been eighty-sixed during the last webcast.

'Thanks a lot, Cort,' he cursed internally; even in his head, the name was spat like a very bad word.

"Excuse me, sir...?" He tried to grab the man's attention as he turned away to another customer. Freddie breathed another sigh and his head slumped down into the crook of his arm on the counter. 'Can this day get any worse?' he thought.

"Can I help?"

He looked up at possibly the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on as she walked up to the counter and fetched him a smile that could melt solid rock. "Uhh, yeah," he said as he handed over his laptop. "I was hoping somebody could take a look at my PearBook."

She looked curiously at the scorchmarks around the casing. Parts of it were still smoking, and a trickle of liquid dribbled out of the screen as she tipped it back. Freddie gave a thin, embarrassed smile.

"What happened here?" she asked.

"An idiot dropped a bag of lemonade on it." As she frowned through that beautiful smile, Freddie saw the question coming, closed his eyes and said "Don't ask. Just...don't."

"Wait...have I seen you before somewhere?"

"Well, I'm in here quite a lot," he replied. "The number of times I've had to come in for repairs or replacements, you'd think I might get my own parking space."

"No, that's not it," she giggled, biting her lip. "Do you do something on the Internet?"

He grinned sheepishly. "You watch iCarly?"

"Oh, right," she smiled again. "Blonde and a brunette, yeah?"

"That's them," he nodded. "I'm their tech producer. I run the studio and the website. I show up on camera sometimes, usually when they need someone to get hurt or drenched."

"You're Freddie Benson?" she asked.

"That's what it says on my underwear." She laughed at that, and he wished he'd been less than half-kidding. Much as he hated to agree with Sam, his mother was crazy in many ways. She asked him to give her a minute, and he checked out the new PearPhones while he waited. She returned more quickly than he expected, and from the look on her face, he could tell it wasn't good news.

"It's in pretty bad shape," she sighed. "We can repair it, but it won't be ready until Saturday at the earliest."

Freddie clicked his tongue in frustration. "That's not going to be in time. We scheduled a replacement webcast for tomorrow." He pondered the problem for a moment; he could borrow Carly's, but he'd have to download all the software he was going to need, and then there was importing all the clips all over again. It was going to take hours.

"I might be able to help," she said. "Do you use 'Cutting Room Flow'?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, I have that and some effects packages on my PearBook," she said. "You can borrow it if you like."

Freddie's jaw dropped. "Seriously? You would do that?"

"Sure," she nodded. "You've got an honest face. Can I ask a favor, though?"

"Anything."

"Would you let me sit in on the show?

"Deal," he gasped, shaking her hand with both of his across the counter. "You are a lifesaver...and I've just realised how creepy this is, so I'm gonna let go now." She smiled as he let go of her hand. They arranged for him to pick her up after work the next day and said their goodbyes.

'Well, Freddorino, ol'buddy, ol' pal,' he thought to himself, leaving the store whistling, 'things are most definitely looking up.'


Spencer was wearing a suit and dashing out when Freddie and Ashley arrived at Carly's apartment, and the boy secretly admitted to himself that he got a small kick out of the bug-eyed look on his friend's face when he introduced her.

"Hey, are they upstairs?" he asked as he helped Spencer into the elevator with his bottletop robot.

"Yeah, they're all hanging out in her room," he said, frowning. "Something about Cort doing jumping jacks."

"OK, we'll just go set up the studio."

Spencer looked over his shoulder at her. "You two? Both? Together?" He whispered with a conspiratorial smile, "Duuuude."

Before he could explain that it wasn't like that, Spencer threw out an 'OKyoukidshavefunbye' as the elevator door closed on him. Freddie showed Ashley up to the studio then went to Carly's bedroom, rapping his knuckles on the door.

"Knocker, knocker."

A mutter of greeting went around Carly's bedroom as he entered, glancing bitterly over at their new pet rockhead, Cort, who was scratching his noggin with a pen and appeared to be trying to read something. Probably a coloring book.

"Can I speak to you two for a second?" Freddie drew Carly and Sam aside. "I see he's still here."

"I see you're still ugly," Sam smirked back. "What's your point?"

"Carly, come on," he pleaded, not even bothering to narrow his eyes at Sam as usual. "I have shoes smarter than this guy."

"If you had shoes that looked like that, I'd be Mrs Carly Fred-Shoes by now," she shot back.

"Guys,..."

They both folded their arms and pursed their lips at him, and Freddie threw his arms up in frustrated surrender.

"Alright, fine. I'm gonna go set up the studio. Could you at least just keep him away from my equipment?" he asked, the not-displeasing cartoon of a flash-fried Cort with his tongue in a power socket running through his mind.

"No-one would be caught dead near your equipment, Benson," Sam smirked.

Freddie sighed for what felt like the millionth time that week as he left the room, feeling that throbbing headache behind his eyes fire up again; he could tell it was going to be a long night.


"Lemonade... in a BAG?" Ashley gawked disbelievingly, as she stood at the tripod checking over and connecting up the B-cam. Luckily, the circuit breakers had protected the server and Freddie's mixing deck from the worst damage, but he'd still had to dry them out and replace some components.

"I told you," Freddie shook his head.

"I thought you were kidding. So that's why the last iCarly went down? Because you hired an idiot?"

"Well, I didn't hire him," he protested. "We were looking for an intern. Carly and Sam gave him the job because he's a looker, which wouldn't be that big a deal if he wasn't such a total cheesehead."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded furiously. "I mean, comically stupid. Look at this." He unzipped his backpack. "Carly let him use my eight-hundred dollar PearPad to take notes on. You know what he did?" He held up the PearPad for her to see Cort's neatly bullet-pointed notes...all inscribed in black Magic Marker across the screen.

"I see what you mean," she said, trying not to smile. "I've got something for that."

"You have?" Freddie quirked an eyebrow.

Ashley started rooting through her own bag. "Well, ink, glue, stuff like that, you can usually get it off with a mild solvent or an acetone solution. Here. " She took out a bottle of nail polish remover and slung it over. "That should do it. Use a cotton swab and be careful."

"Thanks. I'll have to remember that one. Especially if we're keeping Cort," he laughed.

They were still smiling as the studio door swung open and Carly, Sam and Cort piled in.

"Hey, Benson." Sam stopped in her tracks at the sight of the beautiful girl who, indeed, seemed to be playing with Freddie's equipment. "Who's your... uh... lady-friend there?"

"Sam," Freddie scolded gently. "This is Ashley. She works at the Brilliance Bar at the PearPad store."

"Hi," Ashley smiled broadly and stuck out her hand. Carly and Sam shook it in somewhat dazed fashion. "I like your show. I think it's really cute." She glanced over at Freddie, who looked up from his monitor and smiled back.

"What...ummm...," Sam began, frowning in confusion. "Sorry, but... what are you doing here?"

"She's letting us borrow her PearBook while mine is being repaired," Freddie pointed, "so be nice."

Ashley went back to the cart. "Ready?" she asked.

He squared his jaw for comic effect. "Punch it, Ashley."

She switched on, and after a few moments of them both staring at the screen, identical grins bloomed over their faces as they swapped high-fives.

"This missile is hot, locked and ready to rock, folks! iCarly is back in action thanks to Captain Freddie!" He paused, his grin dropping slightly. "Forget I said that last part."

"What, was I just standing here?" Ashley teased.

"You are legendary," he smiled brightly. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Alright, don't go nuts," she laughed as he high-fived her again.

"Dude," Cort turned to Freddie, sounding hurt. "I thought I was supposed to be helping you."

Freddie stared at him blankly, then grabbed the first thing off the cart that wasn't important. "Tell you what, figure this out for me. That'll help."

"Cool," Cort smiled, sitting down on the step and tossing the rainbow slinky around.


This time around, the show ran a lot more smoothly, and Freddie didn't have to run around as much as usual; he and Ashley had already done a brief tech run-through, and she stood by the mixing deck, cueing up his clips and the live feed from the website as she looked to him for signals.

"Aaaand we're clear," Freddie said, grinning all over his face. "Great show tonight, guys."

"Hey," Carly looked around. "Where's Cort?"

"Back here, guys," he called from the back of the studio, hopelessly tangled in the slinky. "This got bad real fast."

"Yo, Benson," Sam called as Freddie and Ashley wrapped up their gear. "We're headed out for a Smoothie of Groove. You up?"

He looked over at Ashley. "Wanna come?"

Ashley shook her head, mostly out of politeness. "No, that's OK, I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You sure?" Freddie said. "Come on, let me at least get you a smoothie. I owe you for bailing us out like this."

"Well, when you put it that way,..." she smiled.

Sam stared at Freddie as if he'd suddenly turned purple; was he actually being...charming?


"I still don't get why you had to shave my back," Gibby sulked, scratching his shoulder.

"Well, if you're going to run around shirtless, it might just take a few milliseconds off your time," Sam said.

"That's for swimming," Carly corrected.

"Whatever," she replied distractedly, watching Freddie and Ashley in conversation on the other side of the table; it was weird how comfortable he seemed with her, like some odd kind of nerdar invisibility. At first, Sam assumed it was because she was way out of his league, and therefore he felt untouchable, but when she took a closer look at Ashley, she could clearly see the signals; the smiles, the hair-touching, sipping her smoothie, looking at his face and actually listening to him speak.

'Could she be any more obvious?' Sam thought. 'Skankbag.'

"So, Ashley," she spoke up, drawing both their faces towards her. "You're studying sociology?"

"Yep," she nodded. "I'm working on my thesis right now. In fact, I think today might've been pretty useful."

"Really?" Freddie chipped in. "What's the subject of your thesis?"

"I haven't settled on a title yet," she said, "but it's mainly about male-female relationships, gender politics, sexual dynamics. Basically, romance."

"Oh, I get it," Freddie said, completely not getting it as he tipped his head in Carly's direction. She was mooning over Cort, who was turning blue trying to suck up his smoothie; he'd forgotten to unwrap the straw. "Studying the monkeys in their natural habitat, right?"

"Something like that," Ashley said as she looked over at Sam, who quickly averted her eyes and focused on noisily sucking the very last smoothie traces out of her cup.

"Sam, leave something for Forensics, huh?" Freddie ignored the tossed French fry at his ear and turned back to Ashley. "Listen, could you use some extra course credit?"

"Well,..."

"Because if you're interested, we could really use a decent intern."

"FREDDIE!"

As happened so often, his shoulders hunched at the sound of his name. He turned to Sam; if looks could kill,...well, she'd probably just beat him to death anyway.

"Can we talk to you for a moment?" she gritted out, waving him and Carly away from the table.

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered urgently. "You can't just hire an intern without consulting us."

"You mean, like you hired this dumb galoot?" he hissed back, pointing to Cort. "No offense, dude."

Cort looked up from his seat like a rabbit in headlights. "Huh?"

"Oh, so it's payback, is that it?" she spat back loudly. "You only want her because she's hot?"

"Well, at least Ashley knows what she's doing," Freddie continued, matching her tone. "It's even worse since he showed up! I'm running things by myself since you two decided to adopt that...that himbecile! Seriously, dude, no offense."

"Huh?"

Sam folded her arms. "We can't have two interns!" She looked to Carly for help, but her friend just shrugged her shoulders; apparently, she didn't see the problem.

"Why not?" he yelled back. "It's not like it'll cost us anything, and they'll both get the course credit! Ashley can do the work, and you girls get to keep your doggie, as long as he stays off the furniture! You can even put down some kibble and squeak-toys!"

She bit back a snort; he was funny when he was mad.

"Look, what is the big deal, Puckett?" Freddie shrugged, calmer now. "I get the tech help I need, and you get to keep Squarejaw McSixpack around. Everybody's happy."

Sam stared at him for a long moment, fists clenched, blue eyes shining, lip trembling; he had never seen her look so furious. Not for the first time, he feared for his life.

"Fine!" She threw her arms up in defeat and stamped to the door. "Hire whoever you want, Benson! Hire a whole dang brass band for all I care!"

"Where are you going?" he frowned.

"Home," she snapped over her shoulder. " 'Night, folks! Seeya in the funny pages!"

Sam stormed out of the Groovy Smoothie, leaving all of her friends in baffled silence.

"What's gotten into her?" Freddie asked out loud.

"Ohhh, Freddie," Ashley chuckled, shaking her head. "For a smart kid, you're awful stupid."

"Huh?"


It was just turning dark when Freddie caught up with her sitting at the bus stop, her feet on the bench and her knees drawn up to her chin. He slowed his approach, nearing a wounded animal that might suddenly lash out at him.

"Sam?" he said softly.

She stiffened and turned her face slightly away from the light. "What do you want, nub?"

"You forgot your jacket," Freddie said, holding it up. "It's cold."

Her reply seemed to take forever and when it came, it wasn't very Sam-like. "Thanks."

"Can I sit down?"

"It's a free country," she sniffed, swiping at her face.

Tentatively, he sat down next to her, leaving a lot of daylight between them in case she changed her mind and took a swing at him. This was a Sam he wasn't used to seeing, and he didn't like it one bit. She often seemed like she might suddenly go off like a bomb, but this time, she also seemed like the slightest breeze might carry her away.

"Sam, what's the matter?" he asked. "Did I do something?"

"No."

"Then why are you so mad at me? More than usual, I mean."

"I'M NOT..." she started loudly, then paused. "I'm not mad at you, dork. I'm just...I don't know." She was silent for a moment. "Do you...do you think she's pretty?"

"Who? Ashley?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "No, Crazy Irene, the bag lady who yells at parking meters." She slapped his arm. "Yes, Ashley, you mutt!"

"I-I guess so, pretty, yeah," he shrugged. "She's pretty much... well... pretty."

"Hmm," she hugged her knees tighter. "Must be nice."

Freddie thought he understood. Few people got Sam's relationship with Carly; everyone thought the brunette was the sweet and pretty one, and they didn't see what she saw in the obnoxious juvenile delinquent who kept emptying her fridge. Sam had been in her best friend's shade for years, but she'd never seemed to mind until now. The show was their thing, and she was afraid it was going to be taken away from her along with everyone she cared out.

"You know Carly's your friend, right?" Freddie said, scooching closer. "And so am I. No matter what happens, that's never gonna change."

Silence again, even longer than last time. Finally, she said, almost too softly for him to hear, "Yeah, I know."

"Tell you what," he offered. "If it means that much to you, I'll tell Ashley we found someone else. But can you please, please talk Carly into getting rid of Cort? We already have Spencer at the apartment; I think one walking fire hazard is enough, don't you?"

A short laugh escaped her, and she nodded. "I guess he is kind of a liability."

"You're not kidding," Freddie said. He draped Sam's jacket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms with his hands as he felt her shivering right through it. "You must be freezing. Come on, let's get back to the others."

She stood up from the bench, putting her jacket on. "You know you're buying me a smoothie, right?" she asked.

"Technically, I already have, since you drank mine."

"All the more reason if you want to keep the next one."

"Naturally," Freddie replied, as if this made perfect sense.

"Benson?"

"Yeah?"

"...Thanks."

He smiled. "Don't mention it, Puckett."

Sam and Freddie walked back to the Groovy Smoothie, elbow-bumping each other, but as always, not far apart along the way.


NEXT PAGE: EPILOGUE.