Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly. I just got back from AnimeBoston, where I portrayed a stellar Grandpa Rome. I simply cannot believe I am writing fanfiction for this fandom, save for the fact I love it so much. Schneider and crew are simply amazing in that trrend of keeping it "Funny, But Clean, And Not Annoying PG".

I do ask that if you read, please leave a review. And always, always feel welcome to PM me comments, ideas and suggestions. I love you all. Rock on, you Mighty Seddie Warriors!

iSpy Pie
By: James Austin Valiant

You don't know why you do the things you do.

I've never really known. I've always been a "Do It Now, Ask Questions Later" kinda girl. Look before you leap, then sort it all out.

That is, of course, if you can't run fast enough to let someone else do the sorting.

I had, over the course of my awesome existence, run from just about every single type of person you can imagine. After my mom got sick of it, I'd run from coaches, zoo keepers, teachers, orderlies, cops, concert security, mall security, Mounties, horse instructors, Gibbies, and nubs on Wegsays. I think that might have been the most intense chase I'd ever had...tell a bunch of morons they look ridiculous riding on their two-wheeled joystick machines. The nub and his band had almost clipped me right off the sidewalk; they deserved me tripping them up.

I clicked around on the Shay's computer as Carly cut us some pie. I had solidly been craving pie since the lock-in before the lock-in ended, and finally a key lime masterpiece had made its way to the fridge.

Carly set down a large slice of heaven in front of me, and I hurriedly jammed a forkful in my mouth.

"Sooo goooood..."

My best friend smirked. "You ever notice how there's always one person obsessed with food?"

"Huh?" I asked, savoring a second bite.

"On TV and stuff, there's always one character who is totally preoccupied with food. It's like, everyone else on the show has these normal appetites and cravings, but there's one of them who just loves food."

I stroked an imaginary beard. "That is weird! It even starts with little kids' shows, like on Sesame Street with Cookie Monster..."

"And then there's Joey on Friends..."

"And Steve on Full House...

"And Sam on iCarly."

I stopped on my fifth, and last, forkful of pie. "Are you saying I'm just some sort of lame television character?"

"No," Carly twirled her fork around her untouched pastry, "I'm just saying it's weird. It's like television takes these itty, bitty little things about people and blows them completely out of proportion."

"I know," I snuck a piece of crust from Carly's plate. "Good show today, by the way."

"Sam! You know I like the crust!"

"Momma knows. Momma likes it, too."

Carly grabbed my plate, turning around to cut me another piece of pastry heaven. "Is that all Momma likes?"

I scoffed. "Of course not. Momma likes ham, pepperoni, lemon pie, fried chicken..."

"...a certain nub who's constantly attached to the camera?" Carly finished for me, setting down the overflowing plate in front of me.

I paused. I could tell by the tone in her voice, she knew exactly what had happened, and had noticed the uncomfortable silence between the dork and I. We tried to keep it as normal as possible in front of her, but neither of us had spoken about it. Or had he? Maybe he had told her everything. Of course he did! The nub stood only to gain from confiding in her, while I stood to lose everything. It wasn't easy getting Carly to trust me again; if she lost faith in me again, it might never come back.

"Carls..." I placed my fork down, and looked her dead in the eye. "...I'm not sure."

"What? How could you not be sure? I saw you kiss him!" She ranted.

"You were spying on us? How could you?"

"Because apparently every time I turn my back, you two are kissing! It's not just that, either...Spencer tells me that sometimes he sees the two of you at the Groovy Smoothie together, and that you're even here, at my apartment, without me, on days we don't have iCarly or rehearsal. Then the Pear Pad says you're in love, and I was so happy for you, Sam. I was so ridiculously happy that you were in love! LOVE, Sam. Not just silly high school like, or like like."

I shook my head. "It's some serious chiz."

"Shoosh yeah, it is! Now all I see is you and Freddie, putting on these pretend faces around, like everything is fine."

I got up from my chair and made my way to the couch. "I think I need to sleep that pie off."

"This is serious, Sam, " Carly grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. She didn't usually get physical with me. "You need to talk to him about this."

"But I haven't decide-"

"You decided when you kissed him! Talk to him, at the very least...he's still up in that studio. Don't do it for iCarly, or me, or him...just do it for you. I meant what I said to you last week, Sam. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have a nice boyfriend."

I flopped down on the couch, and Carly retreated to the kitchen. She'd made her point, and the nub was still upstairs, making adjustments to one doodad or the other. I opened my backpack next to me and pulled out my phone; I always shut it off when we're filming iCarly; maybe I had some e-mail coupons for Ribby's House of Ribs.

I flipped it open. One new message from Fredasaurus.

Sam - I'm sick of the silence. I want to talk to you please.

I glanced back at Carly, who was busying herself with homework. Better now than never, Puckett. With all the grace of ninja, I stood up, vaulted myself over the back of the couch, and made my way upstairs to the studio.