Disclaimer: really?
AU: so here's the next chapter. Thank you so so so much to everyone who took the time to review, favourite and follow I truly appreciated it. I have ated this story 't' but if you feel like it needs raised to 'm' let me know :)
The theme for the bachelorette party had been 'Sex and the City.'
Carly had developed an unhealthy obsession with the program during their senior year of high school having discovered back to back episodes being shown on TV late at night, torturing Freddie and Sam with recorded episodes and saying things like 'Oh my God, Freddie, that is such a Charlotte thing to say!'
They'd begun with afternoon cocktails and then headed out in their best dresses later on that night.
The awkward silence that had settled between Sam and Freddie had been promptly broken as Carly's sleepy voice filled the car.
"Sam, that was the best bachelorette party I have ever had!", she exclaimed seriously.
"I'm pretty sure that's the only one you've ever had," laughed Sam, rolling her eyes jokingly.
"And I'm glad," stated Carly, face down in the leather seats, causing her speech to come out muffled. "You know why?" she asked, turning her face to the side, making it hard for her mouth to move properly. "Because, I wouldn't want any other bachelorette party. All the other ones would be so jealous. It's really not fair to the other bachelorette parties, I feel sorry for them."
"Me, too, Carls," she laughed, struggling to get her feet out of the imprisonment that was her ankle boots. "Hey, Freddud, before you drive off, yank these off, would ya?" She questions, plopping her feet in his lap.
He let out a gust of air at how narrowly she'd missed a delicate part of his anatomy with her spiky heel. When he simply stared at them, Sam wriggled her foot impatiently.
"Come on, nub! I haven't got all night!", she snapped, causing him to roll his eyes before complying to her wishes while glaring at the offensive item.
"These are a weapon!", he informed her as he scrutinised the length and sharpness of the heel.
"See, told you all those years ago that you didn't have to look out for me and Carly," she slurred, tapping his cheek but completely missing and swiping his nose.
"Carly and I," corrected Carly and Freddie at the same time.
"Oh, pipe down," she huffed, lifting her feet off Freddie's lap and perching them on his dash board while arching an eyebrow in his direction, as if daring him to demand she remove them. The blue polish on her toes glittered under the lights of the street lamp and her slender legs seemed to go on for miles as she stretched them out.
Freddie bit down on his tongue before indicating on to the main road and making his way to Bushwell Plaza.
"So I take it Carls is going to Spencer's?" he questioned as Carly's gentle snores filled the car.
Spencer got married a few years back. He'd met Irish bar tender Ciara, who worked in the, you guessed it, Irish pub down the street from Groovy Smoothie when he and Socko wound up in there late one night. She'd whipped his ass at a game of pool, and he found her accent funny.
He hung out at the pub every night she was on late shift and gradually got to know her. He really liked her and he didn't want to risk it by jumping into things too quickly. They became friends first. she was sensible and reliable, but totally fun. She balanced out his reckless and wacky behaviour.
She convinced him he should cut his hair, giggled at his bad jokes, and got on really well with Carly.
He finally asked her out and within a month, they married, and within the year, had a daughter named Rosie. Ciara still worked as a bartender in the bar and Spencer was trying to cut it as an artist, so for the time being they were staying at Bushwell Plaza.
"Yep," she answered, making her 'p' pop. Carly was splitting her time between New York where her fiancé was situated and Seattle, where she tended to crash with Spencer.
"How is it that even when she's snoring she's cute?" she questioned, causing Freddie to chuckle. "I'm serious Fredduck, it's humanly impossible for any girl to compete with that!" she declared, waving her hands in the bride-to-be's general direction.
Silence filled the car once again. Samantha Puckett may be a lot of things but insecure was never one of them, and Freddie wasn't sure how to deal with it. Did she even know what she was saying? Would she remember it in the morning?
"I mean..." she began, then paused, as if she was really concentrating on what she was going to say next, her head lulled to the side slightly. "I don't wanna change, I'm happy the way I am, but sometimes I wish..." She stopped as she glanced into the back, taking in Carly's disheveled hair, her dress that had hitched up so her Bridget Jones sized control underwear and pink guarder around her thigh was in plain sight, and the scrape down her cheek from the fall earlier. "I just wish she wasn't so perfect."
Freddie yet again kept his mouth shut. He knew she wasn't finished. He wanted to hear what she had to say and he knew he had to tread carefully or the moment would be lost.
"Why the hell is she even wearing control pants? What the fuck has she got to 'control?'" she finally let out. "They're nearly as uncomfortable as strapless bras. Why in Gods name would you wear them if you didn't have to?"
"I haven't a clue what they are, Sam", he laughed, but she was too busy working on something at the back of her dress to acknowledge that he'd even spoken.
"Do you have any idea how stressed I have been about this damn..." She began, still struggling with something, before letting out a sigh of relief and pulling something out over her dress, "bachelorette party?", she asked, turning towards him.
Freddie turned around to her, about to congratulate her on a job well done, stopping abruptly when he noticed what she was holding in her hand. Was that her bra? Yes, yes that was her bra. Her royal blue lacey bra. He was a 26 year old man and he was hyperventilating over the sight of a bra as if he'd never seen one before.
He remembers the first time he got a glimpse of Sam's bra. Anybody's bra, really. Okay, bras that he'd Want to see. And let me tell you, Sam's was up there on the list of ones he wanted to see.
He sat slumped in his bedroom, hiding from the world, like he had been for the past week. Sam had pulled some stunt on him...he can't remember what exactly but either way it had made him look like an idiot as her stunts usually did and he'd taken to hiding out in his bedroom.
Whatever it was that she did must have been bad because he'd stopped talking to her and he very rarely stopped talking to her over her pranks. It had been a couple of months since they ended...whatever it was they had going on and he'd be turning 17 the following week. "Don't just sit there, help me!" she growled, nudging her head in the direction of her foot, which was jammed between the window and the ledge. Freddie's gaping mouth shut closed as he blinked rapidly before pushing his laptop off his lap, leaping over his bed to lift up the window and disentangle his friend.
Water splattered against his window pain, flowing in droplets of the fire escape. He'd had his earphones in so he hadn't heard the rattling of the ladder attached to the fire escape or the sliding of the window as it was pushed up, but the thud that came as a damp blonde landing in a tangle of limbs on his bedroom floor did catch his attention.
"What are you looking Sam?" he sighed, as she rotated her ankle making sure nothing was broken. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking, dork," she snapped from her position on Freddie's carpeted bedroom floor. Freddie sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" he asked gently. "Yeah, I think I'll survive another day," snorted Sam. "Good, now what are you looking for?" he demanded, clenching his jaw. "Aww come on dude! Don't be a baby," cried out Sam, taking the hint that he was clearly not over his huff. "Oh, don't bother Sam," he hissed, scrunching his eyebrows together, 'I should have known you weren't here to apologise,' "No, no. I am," she objected, waving her hands in front of her as she gathered herself off the ground. "I didn't climb up those seriously questionably unsafe fire ladders for nothing. I miscounted and got Miss Devine's apartment, her cat's mean", she informed, stretching out her forearm to show off her war wounds.
"What did you do to the cat?" he winced as he looked at the scratches. "Nothing!", she cried in outrage, receiving nothing but a disbelieving look."Okay, nothing too harmful. I just slipped him something to help him sleep." "You carry around stuff like that with you all the time?" questioned Freddie. "Have you met my mother's boyfriends?' she shot back, arching her eyebrow. "Point taken," he agreed. They'd already had a conversation about the boys her mother chose to date. He knew most of them were pretty decent, but once in a while she picked a bad egg. However, Sam was prepared whenever that happened. Silence filled the bedroom. 'Your mom here?' Sam inquired, glancing at the door, almost nervously. "Double shift," he replied, shutting down his laptop and grabbing his headphones off the floor, which had fallen there when he got up to help Sam, the quick movements yanking them out of his ears. "So..." she started, rocking back and forth on her feet, her hands clasped behind her back. "I was gonna give you this for your birthday, but I guessed you could have it early, nearly like an apology..." "So you're not going to actually say you're sorry?" he interrupted. "Do you want the damn gift or not?" she grunted, obviously getting annoyed. Freddie pondered his options for a moment. "Do I get another present on my actual birthday?" he questioned. "Don't push your luck. You're lucky I remembered at all, Freddumb." she spat out. "So this is you saying you're sorry?" he asked once again.
"Freddie..." she warned through clenched teeth. "Okay, sorry," he chuckled, before holding his hands out expectantly,"go on then." Sam considered him for a moment before nodding more to herself than him. She let out a breath, before reaching behind herself and fiddling for a moment. "Sam? What are you doing?" he asked in confusion, before she pulled out a brightly coloured piece of material out of her shirt sleeve, "Oh," he breathed out as she let the item fall into his lap. It wasn't anything elaborate. It was very Sam like if he was being honest. It was lime green with purple stars over it. Purple straps and bow between both cups.
Freddie gaped at the object in complete shock. He glanced up at Sam to see her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He never recalled ever seeing Sam blush. "S-s-Sam?" He stuttered in confusion. "I didn't know what to get you," she shrugged insecurely..."I'm guessing you've never gotten one of those before." Silence settled between them once again. Then Sam was kneeling in front of him, grabbing his right hand and glancing up at him. "Wanna feel?" she asked gently. He could feel her shake slightly, and he was sure he was shaking, too. 'Sam you don't have to...' He objected, before she shook her head, smirking at him. "I want to..." she grinned, before she slid his hand up her top, setting it firmly on top of the soft flesh. Freddie gulped, shifting uncomfortably as his jeans tightened. He dared a glance up at Sam. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, her eyes also trained on him. She leaned in, gently placing a soft chaste kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry, okay?" she whispered in his ear, dropping his hand and walking over to his window. "Eh..." he started, holding up her bra, causing her to laugh. "It's yours now," she laughed, sticking her foot out the window. "You're not staying with Carly?" he asked. Sam snorted, glancing down at her chest which was clearly unsupported. "Don't think she'd approve, do you?" She responded, pulling her other leg out the window before popping her head back in. "Happy birthday, dork," she grinned before skipping down the fire escape steps.
"Wanna keep it under your pillow?" she offered sarcastically as she caught his eyes wandering to the scrap of material in her hands for a little too long. "Concentrate on the road, yeah, Fredifer?" she teased.
"Sorry," he muttered, coming to a stop at a set of traffic lights, nibbling on his bottom lip gently, hoping she'd continue.
"What if I told you it's Carly's?" She questioned.
He let out a snort in response.
"What?!" She demanded, causing his cheeks to flush a deep shade of red. He spluttered slightly. "Spit it out! Geez, after all these years, you're still a dork."
"I'm just saying, there ain't no way you're fitting into one of Carly's bra's", he chuckled, bracing himself for the thump that was sure to come.
"You been checking out my goodies?" She loved teasing him.
"I've more than checked them out, Sam.' he informed a little too cockily.
He spotted her wince slightly, her alcoholic haze making it hard to cover up. He turned toward her to apologise only to have her talk over him.
"I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure one off those traffic lights is green", she deadpanned, pointing out the window.
"Theres only one, Sam." he reported back to her.
"Really?" she squinted, moving forward to get a better look out the window. "Nope, I can still see three," she stated before glancing in his direction. "Come to think of it, there's three of you, too."
Freddie chuckled, shaking his head while running through the gears as he picked up speed. Sam squinted in his direction now, sighing in concentration.
"Wow now, don't concentrate too hard. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." he teased, his lips quirking slightly to the right.
"I'll hurt you if you don't stop being such a smartass," she said in a monotone, before tilting her head to the side. "By the way, you have a pretty chuckle,'
Freddie quirked his eyebrow up in response, as they turned a corner, nearing the Shay residence.
"And teeth. You have pretty teeth," she added on second thought.
"Well, thanks, I brush twice a day and floss every night," he offered jokingly.
"Eww floss makes me shiver," As if to prove her point, she gave an involuntary shiver, before another hiccup escaped her mouth.
"Well that's strange," he said to himself more than anything.
"Your face is strange," she retorted.
"I love how much you've matured,". He rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that hour.
"Still got no come backs". She stated rather than questioned, sighing as she tied her bouncing curls up in a bun on top of her head. It reminded him of the photo that had flashed up on his screen earlier that night, taking him back to memories off warm nights, cool breezes and the taste off fresh Americano cocktails.