A/N: I will try to keep this short and sweet. A big round of applause for icarlyangst for editing this chapter as well, especially since I decided to change it to first person at the last minute…while I was drinking. The woman has skill, but don't tell her because her ego is reaching critical capacity ;) This chapter will have a lot more Seddie in it and you will begin to see how the characters have developed as people in the last couple of years. No Carly in here, mostly because I hate writing her so I'm putting it off as long as possible. I can't relate to that character on any level so getting in her head makes mine hurt. Without further ado, chapter two. (See what I did there? With the rhyming?)
Chapter 2: Try To Remember, Forget
{[…Freddie's P.O.V…]}
I said my goodbyes to the other three for the night, assuring Carly I would be fine for the umpteenth time. Finally, I managed to halt their condolences and piteous looks long enough to get over to my own house. Walking in, I took off my suit jacket and chucked it at random into the room, too mentally and physically exhausted to put it up where it was supposed to go. It was quiet and absurdly clean, just like always. I felt like in a couple of hours my mom would come back from her shift at the hospital and reprimand me for being up so late, saying it was "All that Carly Shay's Fault." But that wasn't going to happen. My chest tightened as the events of the day finally struck me with a certainty that I couldn't shake. It felt like the reaper himself was clutching at my heart, squeezing all the air from my lungs. I heaved a heavy sigh and ran my hands through my hair, willing myself to calm down. That had been happening a lot lately, anxiety or panic or depression or whatever. I didn't really care. An aunt of mine had suggested I go see someone about it, but I didn't want to just get over this. The woman who had birthed and raised me had been cruelly murdered, it should feel like shit.
I walked over to the TV and flipped it on, turning the volume up so that the house wouldn't seem quite as empty and then went to change out of my wet clothes. Slipping on a pair of pajama pants and a tank top I considered bed, but I wasn't ready for the day to be over quite yet so I opted for some mindless television instead. Flipping idly through the channels I finally settled on a cooking channel. It didn't really matter what I was watching as long as it didn't suck. I'm not sure how long I sat there, drifting in and out of a fitful sleep, probably an hour or two, but when I heard a scraping sound from the hall side of my door. I was suddenly very awake. Some jackass was trying to break into my house.
"Really God?" I questioned in my mind, "Today of all days? Is nothing sacred?"
I chuckled a little at that one as I crept down the hall to get my bat from the bedroom closet. Laughing at a time like this, I really did need some sleep; I was starting to lose it. I gripped the bat in my hands, the cool feel of the aluminum spreading through my body, giving me a grim sense of determination. I really wanted to hurt someone, anyone, right now.
"Maybe you're on my side after all," I mused.
I snuck back into the living room, standing at a point in front of the door where I would be able to strike the intruder before he saw me. I tightened my grip as I heard the loud Click! of the lock coming open. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the knob turned and the door started to open slowly. Once the gap was wide enough I brought my improvised weapon back, my muscles tensing in anticipation. I brought the bat down hard, just as the thief's head came into view, perfect timing, if you didn't count that the he was a she and that she was a very good friend of mine. Panicking, I tried to shout a warning, but I knew it was a little late at that point.
"Just couldn't help getting one more laugh at my expense could ya you sick fuck." I thought at God.
I jerked my arms sideways as hard as I could, just grazing the swath of blonde curls in front of me and striking the doorframe instead.
"Fuck!" I cursed loudly as part of the frame splintered and the shock of the impact traveled up the metal of the bat and into my hands. I dropped the cudgel instantly, my hands stinging like crazy and directed my attention to the wide-eyed girl in my entryway.
"What the hell Sam!" I shouted, "I could have caved your skull in!"
She didn't respond at first. She stood there with her chest heaving from the shock in a way I was finding increasingly distracting. For a split second her eyes raked over me and she licked her lips, making me question just what the hell was going on, but just as soon as the moment had come, it was gone and Sam was back to herself. Her eyes flashed in indignation as she looked up at me.
"Let's be honest here Freddork," she snorted derisively, "you couldn't cave anyone's skull with those bony nerd arms. And as soon as I get back up from that little bump on the head I would bring you pain with that bat in ways you never would have thought of."
The comment made me even angrier, but that's what she wanted. It was a challenge, Sam's automatic reaction to situations where she was wrong. If she couldn't win with logic she would win with force. Taking the bait wouldn't do anyone any good, so I forced myself to calm down and focused on something other than how cute she looked angry.
"What are you doing breaking into my house in the first place?" I asked her.
"Well I don't have a key, so how else was I supposed to get in?" she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And what's with the six locks? Momma likes a challenge, but that's just paranoid."
I had thought the same thing when my mom had installed them, but here Sam was having bested them all. Maybe my mom wasn't as unreasonable as I had thought. I rubbed at my eyes exasperated with the turn my night had taken.
"Let's try this again," I started.
"Why did you need into my house in the first place?"
Her eyes lit up in a way that I knew meant she was up to no good. She pulled one hand out from behind her back, revealing a gargantuan bottle of vodka.
"Does a girl need a reason to help a friend?" She asked innocently. I considered making a comment about mood swings, but decided I like my head where it was for the time being.
With a sigh I gestured her into the house and towards the kitchen. She went to work immediately, pulling assorted juices and glasses from the cupboards. I propped the bat up next to the door, deciding that would be its new home. I tried to close the door, but a piece of shattered wood was in the way, so I fiddled with the door until it closed properly and made a mental note to call maintenance sometime soon. Sam declared the drinks were ready so I walked over to the breakfast bar to join her. She gestured at one of two glasses with a small amount of straight Vodka in the bottom and I picked it up as she did the same.
"Where did you even get this?" I questioned. She just shook her head.
"Less talky more drinky," and with that she unceremoniously downed her own dose of the clear liquid. I stared at my glass for a moment, frowning. This wasn't really my style, but I figured if eighteen was old enough to bury my mom it was old enough to have a drink or twenty. The Vodka hit the back of my throat like liquid fire and I couldn't help grimacing.
""How do people drink this stuff?" I asked Sam, deferring to her substantially more vast experience in the areas of alcohol and delinquency in general.
"By mixing," she told me, shaking a bottle of orange juice to emphasis the point. "That was just to get the night started off right."
I nodded, quietly watching her work.
She was extremely absorbed in what she was doing, which was good for me, because I had been openly ogling her for the last thirty seconds or so. For what was probably the millionth time, I wished I could just grow a pair and ask her out instead of fearing rejection or the ruination of our group dynamic. Things had been different the last several years, Sam and I were closer, but every time I thought she was into me she did something to change my mind. She was in pajama pants and a t-shirt that was baggy enough to be comfortable, but tight enough to be tantalizing when she turned just the right way. She always tried to hide the curves she had developed in the last few years, much to my personal chagrin. I realized my thought process was circling the gutter rather dangerously and decided to redirect my attention before she caught me staring.
"So you never answered my question," I pushed.
"Stole it from my mom's stash," she confided, without looking up.
I was genuinely concerned. I didn't know much about Sam's mom or her home life, but I wasn't stupid. I had a hunch that those clothes weren't just hiding her curves and when she covered her body it wasn't to discourage the high school boys she could easily handle herself. But Sam would never admit to it. Not to me anyway. There were some things only Carly got to know and I was fine with that…for now.
"Won't she notice it's gone?" I asked.
"Come on, what kind of amateur do you think I am? She will wake up hung-over like always and just think she drank it, but either way Spence has my back. He is gonna replace it for me in the morning."
"Spencer knows you're over here?" I asked, shocked. Sam grinned.
"He practically pushed me out the door. He said 'If anyone ever needed a drink its Freddie, right now. I'll tell Carls I drove you home. I think it's better for everyone if she doesn't know about this.'"
I shook my head in wonder as Sam handed me my new drink. The new concoction was fruity and delicious with a bit of an edge at the end from the booze that I quickly decided I liked. Maybe this getting drunk stuff wasn't so bad after all.
"So," she started, halfway through her own glass already, "you gonna give me a tour or what?"
I walked her through the house, pointing out the various rooms as we went. When we reached the bathroom she let out a long, low whistle.
"Shoulda known a neat freak like your mom would have a bathroom built for a queen of clean." She laughed at her own joke and I rolled my eyes.
"Your shower is the size of my whole bathroom," she continued in awe, "but then you've got a whirlpool tub and…is that a heat lamp?"
I shrugged, "It was actually like this when we moved in, the last guy to own it this place used it as a vacation home for wild Seattle parties that required a tub big enough for 3 bimbos, with room to spare."
"For crying out loud the toilet has a motion sensor! Rich bastard," she muttered. Sam was equal parts impressed and angry at the wanton extravagance. I laughed.
"That's actually what sold my mom on the house. She is so afraid of germs that she hates knobs and handles cause people touch them all day…or she did," I corrected myself, remembering that she wasn't around anymore. I carried on a little less jovial than before.
"There are maybe four doors in the whole house, she wanted it as open and as knobless as possible."
"I wish my house was a little more knobless," Sam joked. I smiled as much at the joke as her attempt to lighten the mood.
"How are you going to afford all this now, Fredweird?"
I looked at her, a little surprised by her concern, but I didn't want to ruin the moment so I passed it off as an effect of the booze. Now that I thought about it, my cup was empty too.
"If we're gonna have this conversation, I'm gonna need another drink," I said, shaking my cup.
She smiled, "Now you're talking."
We plopped down on the couch, refreshed drinks in hand. I noticed idly that this one seemed more juice- laced vodka than the other way around, but the warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through my limbs kept me from caring much. In the dim light from the television, Sam looked absurdly beautiful. Her hair was tousled from the night events and the alcohol had relaxed her in a way I rarely saw, but had always loved. She had sat down pretty close to me, half laying down she had thrown one of her legs over both of mine before reclining against a pillow. My mouth suddenly felt dry, so I took another swig before talking.
"So you like the place huh?" I asked, gesturing around a little more haphazardly than I had intended. She nodded her approval and I smiled.
"Well you can enjoy it whenever you want because it now belongs to yours Freddy" I pointed at myself proudly, grinning in a fashion I can only assume looked completely idiotic.
Sam's eyes went wide. "No fuckin way."
"Yes fuckin way," I assured her, "My mom left it all to me in the will. She left everything to me in the will. Along with making me the sole benefactor of her unfrickinbelievably huge life insurance policy. I feel bad for calling her paranoid now."
I frowned, looking at my glass. I decided I really wasn't drunk enough for the discussion and promptly downed the rest of it. I got up to put my glass in the sink and came back with the bottle of vodka itself.
"What about your dad?" She asked, grabbing the bottle out of my hands and taking a long pull. She was asking too many difficult questions in a row for it to be a coincidence. Sam was getting me to open up about the things that were eating away at me. I was shocked, touched, and pissed, but I didn't call her out because I was afraid she would leave. Afraid I would be alone in here again.
"What about him?" I spat. "He showed up for the reading and as soon as he found out he wasn't getting anything aside from a letter he went back to his latest floozy in San Fran. Thank god I'm eighteen so I can take control of the estate and live on my own instead of that cheating piece of shit getting it all."
I took the bottle back and tried to replicate the grace and size of her last drink, but failed miserably and ended up spluttering half of it across the front of myself.
Smooth Freddie…I bet she has never wanted you more.
She laughed hysterically while I looked down at the second top I had soaked today. It just served to make me even more pissed off and I fixed Sam with a serious look, cutting off her stream of giggles. All joviality was sucked from the room as her eyes met mine.
"I'm just saying if I told a woman I loved her, if she bore my child, I would treat with respect. I would keep my vows. I would mean the things I said to her instead of abandoning her and my son. Leaving her so lonely that she cries at night when she thinks her kid can't hear her. But I could Sam, I could hear her every time." I held her gaze for a few more moments before breaking eye contact. The silence in the room was palpable and Sam shivered slightly next to me. I went to take another swig from the bottle, but Sam put her hand on mine, stopping me.
"That's enough for you nub. You're such a teetotaler you're already wasted and if you puke there is no way in hell I'm cleaning it up." She took the bottle away from me and set it on the coffee table. I tried to protest, but all I managed to do was burp and sway precariously. Point taken. Let it never be said that Freddie Benson is a slow learner.
"Come on Freddie, let's get you to bed." She swung one of my arms over her shoulder. I didn't really need the help, but the contact with her was nice and she smelled amazing, like lilies and bacon, so I kept my mouth shut.
She tossed me on the bed in a sitting position, standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. I stared back at her a little dazedly, a goofy smile spreading across my face as I realized she had called me Freddie and not some dumb nickname.
"Honest to god, if I had known I would end up taking care of you I never would have come over here," she muttered to herself, but there was no conviction in her voice.
"Alright, arms up," she commanded. I obeyed instantly, willing to do anything she said at this point in my night. She pulled the wet tank off of my body. Pulling back her skin came in contact with mine, the pads of her fingers grazing the underside of my ribs gently, sending shivers down my spine. She let out a little hiss, shivering again.
"You ok?" I asked, finally remembering my manners. "You've been shivering a lot."
"Fine," she assured me, a far off look in her eyes, "just cold."
I nodded my understanding.
"Hey Sam?"
She peered at me through the golden tresses that had fallen in front of her eyes, making her look wild and sexy as hell. I forgot what I was doing for a second as I got lost in her gaze.
"I'm really glad you came over tonight," I said finally.
The intimacy of the moment and the sincerity of my voice must have caught her off guard because she suddenly looked panicked. Not sure what to do in a situation this "real." I sighed inwardly, awaiting the deflection I knew was coming.
"You're just glad someone came over with boobs and booze. You would have been a lot happier if it was Carly." The moment was officially over. She must have seen the hurt in my eyes because she quickly looked away. This was the way things always were with us. I would try to get closer and just as it looked I was about to succeed she would push me away. Two steps forward, one step back. But I was making progress, I knew I was, today was proof of that. I wasn't even close to giving up. Before she could make her getaway, I locked her eyes with mine again, channeling as much emotion as I could through the look. She shivered again and before I could help myself I wrapped her up in my arms, pulling us both backward onto the mattress. She landed directly on top of me, her hands shot out instinctively to catch herself, placing them directly on the exposed skin of my chest. I grunted softly from the impact, but quickly recovered and tightened my grip on her midriff so she couldn't escape, and buried my face in her hair. It was half impulse and half survival instinct, I had always wanted to see if her hair felt as silky as it looked AND I wanted my nose out of punching range. When nothing happened, I exhaled slowly and pulled back so I could look up at her face.
"What the hell Freddie?" she said trying to sound pissed, but even drunk, I could tell it was forced. I cheered internally at this tiny victory, but I knew I was pushing my luck so I decided to give her an out.
"You were cold," I said simply, "alcohol lowers your internal body temperature," I paused here to yawn, fatigue beginning to overcome me now that I was in bed. "Fastest way to warm you up was body heat."
Sam huffed loudly, but I could have sworn I felt her burrow slightly into my embrace, or maybe it was a struggle for freedom. Hell I couldn't tell anymore, today was getting nuts.
"Don't think just because you've got me drunk and alone in your bed that you can take advantage of me nerd," she warned, "I saw where you left the bat, all previous threats still stand."
I smiled, "I know."
I flipped us onto our sides, so we were facing each other, our heads on the pillows.
My breathing started to level as sleep began to creep up on me. I felt Sam reach down and pull the blankets up to cover us, then spin around, backing up against my body so that we were spooning. I smiled for the hundredth time that night and let a contented sigh out into her hair.
"Hey Sam," I mumbled softly.
"Yeah?"
"You're wrong. I'm glad it was you."
And with that I was out.
A/N: They are too effin cute. As always please review. I'm a patently unmotivated guy so the only thing that gets me moving is the delicious taste of fresh reviews in the morning. Thanks for reading.