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TheWrtrInMe, irishfan62, DannySamLover20, Mike2101, oceanmistsupporter, afanoffanfic, jhuikmn08, Urias, julefor, Moviepal, Dwyn Arthur and pigwiz.

I hope everyone had a great Christmas holiday however you choose to celebrate it or the season.

Hey, if you get minute and "iLove You" is on your mind, check out, "iWant to Change the Reflection" by jhuikmn08. A nice holiday treat.

Disclaimer: Dan Schneider owns iCarly and when I think about it, I don't envy him that, though it's probably not the worst burden to shoulder, either.

Chapter 4: The Sunday that Sucked.

Daylight arrived on Sunday and the darkness reluctantly rolled back, the darkness outside anyway. For Sam Puckett Saturday night was a bad dream, a terrible nightmare where you just want to open your eyes and feel relieved that it didn't really happen. The problem for Sam was that her eyes were open and her Saturday night from Hell was achingly real. There was no mistaking the regret left over from another Puckett bad call.

She had snapped awake when Carly got up. For such a skinny chick Carly crashed around like she was trying out for the wrestling team. Sam's fingers ran over the cool sheets of the bed. Months ago when they built this room she jumped on Freddie on these very sheets. Sam was aware by that time that she wanted something more from Freddie. She wanted to pounce on him. She had wanted to do that for some time. That was hard to reconcile with the way she had lived her life. It made her so mad, the awareness that her abuse of Freddie Benson had been an excuse to connect with him to make him react, to pay attention to her. Now, this morning, once again Sam had to wrestle with something awful where Freddie Benson was concerned. She was so tired of fighting. Fighting with him, fighting her stinking, hateful attraction to him, then the incredible excitement of dating him (amazing but true, their days as a couple had profoundly affected her—changed her and she hated that too).

The memory of last night was so sharp it cut to handle it. Why in the world did she do it? They had cleared so many hurdles and had grown so close… she stopped that thinking in its tracks. But shame rolled over her like a wave of dirty water on the beach. After her mistake she had thrown herself at Freddie, been rejected then came bawling and gasping like some losing pageant girl to Carly. How much more could she fail? What other mistakes could she make? She took a deep breath and began to gather her strength as she prepared to go downstairs. She wanted to just lie here a few minutes more. And why couldn't she? What good thing was waiting for her anywhere on Earth? She had nowhere to go, nowhere to be.

Downstairs, Carly Shay sat at the counter on the edge of the kitchen reading posts on the iCarly chat community. She only posted on the official site that Freddie ran, but sometimes she followed others' links out to the other sites. She made notes on what she found, jotting down skit ideas inspired by, or outright submitted by the fans online. There were a LOT of other sites. In addition to commentary people uploaded videos, songs and even made up stories about the various iCarly players. Some were patently outrageous, some extremely well done; so many of the communications showed a kind of vested interest that perplexed Carly.

Right now, however, she was furious. While most viewers were respectful and flattering in their admiration, a small percentage went over the line. One writer, NightTerror, had been leading a kind of campaign since Freddie first kissed Sam on air. He claimed that the show had gone horribly wrong since the two had hooked-up. He was putting together a petition to boycott the show until Freddie and Sam (Seddie?) stopped dating. Carly shook her head. How insane was that?

"Hey kid," Spencer Shay said strolling, unshaven in his adult Spider Man UnderRoos past his younger sister.

"Robe please, Sam is upstairs," Carly said in a monotone, "And I'm not six years old anymore, either."

Spencer made an exaggerated, put-upon face, and gave an over-the-top plodding, slump shouldered walk back to his room. He emerged again a moment later wearing a scarlet satin robe with white fur cuffs and fur trimmed hood.

"Worshiping the devil at the polar ice cap?" Carly asked as she skimmed a particularly poorly spelled comment.

"Socko gave it to me."

"Glad you didn't buy it."

Spencer let that go while Carly asked, "Weren't you wearing pajamas last night?"

"Yes."

"You changed from your pajamas to your underwear before going to sleep?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"No."

Carly had had thousands of these conversations with him. She pulled the handle on the emergency exit and bailed on this one. If she continued this he would surely ask her about how many pairs of shoes she owned. Either that or something was going to burst into flame.

Spencer wandered into the kitchen.

"Better break out the Samergency bacon," she advised him.

"Trouble in Puckettville?" he called back, drinking juice out of the carton.

"I think so, and eww! I drink that juice too."

"Don't, I just drank out of it."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Yo brotha loves you, yo," Spencer made a kind of gang/rap hand gesture from outer space. Carly imagined blinking letters that said, "White Guy."

"So, what happened with Sam?" he asked

"Y'know how I got Sam and Freddie together?" Carly answered.

There was a long pause, "Is that how you remember it?"

"That's how it was."

"Uhm, granted I was being tortured or wearing fake boobs when a lot of the big moments took place, but I don't think you 'got them together,' I think they made most of the important steps on their own."

"Whatever, they broke up last night."

"What did Sam do?" he asked, opening a cabinet.

"Why does it have to be Sam who 'did something'? Maybe Freddie messed up."

"Sure, that could happen, hey, look, the sun is coming up in the west. What are the odds? Even so, what does that have to do with you?"

"Well, I need to talk to Freddie if I'm going to fix this."

"Fix it?" He looked back at her, "Why is that your job?"

"I'm who they go to for relationship help."

"And that made you so very happy."

"Well, they've worked too hard; I'm not going to let them throw away such a cute couple thing."

"I agree they're a cute couple on some fronts, but relationships, great ones, are deeper than cute."

"You don't think they should be together?"

"I don't think it's any of my business or yours. It needs to work on its own—or not." Spencer started pulling out his griddle surface for the stove, and lots of batter mix. Feeding Sam was like saying "Ethiopia is stopping by for brunch."

"So what do you know about the break-up?" he called to her.

"Not much. Sam came into my room at 3:30 this morning. She wasn't very Samish." That was an understatement; her friend had been in a rare emotional riot. Carly wondered what had happened, wanted to get the facts. Sam and Freddie had come together and done something incredible. They had forged a new relationship but last night some misstep had turned it into a smoking crater, something much greater than the usual Scooby Doo level mystery that life seemed to present to them. Carly had to get to Freddie. She would fix this like she always did. She HAD put them together, and they wouldn't walk away from everything they had overcome. She would not allow it on her watch.

At that moment the sound of footsteps cut Carly off. Sam descended the stairs. Her hair seemed combed with a rag and her wrinkled blouse spilled over her jeans. She was barefoot and clutching her Pear phone.

"Hey," Carly said, "Morning."

"Yeah, that explains the light," Sam replied. She walked into the kitchen, pulled a stool up to the work surface. The message was clear. She had done her part. She had shown up. Now the food needed to arrive.

"Pancakes and bacon, coming up," Spencer said with a clear understanding of his obligations. He watched Sam, the concern obvious to his sister who knew him but invisible to Sam if she was even paying attention. He busied himself preparing the pound of hickory smoked bacon they kept to manage Sam's periodic mood swings.

"So, Sam, whattup?" he asked.

Sam made a sound between a motor turning over on a cold morning and the Frankenstein monster encountering fire.

Spencer nodded as if she had just delivered the Gettysburg Address, "Oh yeah, I hear that. You want your bacon the usual way? Now, with plenty of no waiting?"

Sam put her head in her hands, but a smile cracked her grim features. For the first time since Carly wrapped her in the comforter she felt cared about. No wonder she once had a crush on Spencer.

Minutes later Spencer scraped another round of pancakes off the griddle and deposited them in front of Sam who silently slathered butter on the cakes cut them laterally into bands then dragged those through a bowl of maple syrup. This was the fourth stack he had made her, and the pound of Samergency bacon was gone. He was used to watching Sam eat, but never ceased to marvel. She was like some food magician. Now you see it, now you don't. He noted that Sam seemed to be watching her Pear phone as it were going to get up and samba across the counter. He marked how she ate on automatic: cut, dip, chew (sometimes she didn't chew she just swallowed like some super predator on Animal Planet). And her eyes continued to flick over to the phone which sat, lifeless, on the granite surface.

Spencer stepped over to where his sister sat at the computer.

"You were right. This is off the hook," he said, his lips barely moving.

Carly leaned into him, "Told you."

"They fight all the time, what was it this time?"

"No they didn't fight, she told me, 'we didn't fight,' they just broke up."

Spencer's eyebrow shot up, "How do you break up without fighting?"

"Do I look like Dr. Phil?"

"A little, around the lips."

She gave him the stink eye. "This is serious, she is all torn up. I need to talk to Freddie. He'll tell me what happened."

Spencer shook his head, "Best if we stay out of it," he said, knowing full well the likelihood of his sister not interfering. Then he headed off to his room, "Gotta change so I can meet Jenna."

It was Carly's turn for eyebrows to hurtle toward the ceiling; her voice was unnecessarily loud as she said, "What? I thought you two broke-up last night."

Noise erupted from the kitchen as Sam spun on the stool in clear anticipation of seeing something or someone who wasn't there. Pancake bits and syrup sprayed, the energy from her movement almost crackled.

"You okay?" Carly asked and Sam, with visible surprise at her own reaction, returned silently to her remaining pancake strips.

Carly shook her head then said to Spencer, "I don't get it, how can you two get back together so fast?"

Spencer threw his jacket on, "Why wouldn't we? We have a common past and we surely have a connection. Just 'cause we don't fit your definition of a good couple…" He stressed the "your" as he spoke.

"Well the two of you had a pretty weird couple thing goin' on."

"Pshaah!" Spencer said flipping his hand up as if he were stopping traffic. "Never seen a relationship that wasn't weird in somebody's view, what matters is if it works for the people in it."

A clattering sound came from the kitchen where Sam's knife and fork had hit the floor.

Spencer nodded to Carly indicating Sam then headed toward the door, "Gotta hit the bricks," he said striding away.

"You're still in your robe and Underroos," Carly said without looking at him.

Spencer's face appeared truly appreciative of the reminder and he bounded into his room to change.

Carly looked over at Sam who sat in front of an empty plate with yellow pools of melted butter. "I know better than to ask this, but did you eat ALL of those pancakes?"

The blonde nodded, "Yeah," her tone was distant, distracted.

Carly sighed then looked at the screen, she couldn't just dive right in, so she came in sideways, "Wow, these iCarly fans are out of control."

Sam pushed away from the table then strolled, sort of heavy legged, over to the counter, "What do they want to know about Gibby now?"

Carly paused, because Gibby was clearly a fan favorite, then she said, "Well, this is more of that shipping stuff they send in. They want to know how you and Freddie are doing."

"Tell them the truth."

"What is the truth, Sam?"

"Freddie and I broke-up."

"Why, what happened last night, what did you do?"

Sam's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, what did I do?"

Carly sucked in her lip a little stunned that she had said the same thing as her brother, "Well, I mean, Freddie wouldn't, I mean, you both seemed happy, but, well, did you make him mad?"

"Did I make him mad?" Sam looked at her friend, heat beginning to rise inside her.

"Yeah," the tension was thick in the air, but Carly held her ground. Sam was her best friend but it was not easy to imagine Freddie pushing for a break-up. Not after making it through the NERD camp debacle. That had seemed to seal the deal of them as a couple.

"Carls, I think I handled it very well, he called me 'abnormal' and I didn't knock his teeth out."

Carly gasped, "Oh my god."

Sam continued, "We very calmly agreed, mutually, to call it quits." She neglected to mention that the conversation started because they overheard Carly's speech to Spencer and Jenna on making a connection into something more. She neglected to mention that they said "I love you" to each other for the first time, she also left out that they went to the very edge of full physical intimacy after breaking up.

She left out a lot, because she was changing the game. She wasn't sure how yet. She rarely had a plan. That was his thing.

"He said you were abnormal?" the look on Carly's face was charged.

"Yep, that exact word."

"Sam, that's terrible! That must have hurt so much. Why would he do that?"

"He just said what was on his mind, I guess. Anyway, he's just too normal for me. Mama likes hers a little strange, girlfriend."

"Well, I've never thought of Freddie as normal, either, but, wow. I can't believe he said that. No wonder you were so upset."

Sam made her caught-in-something deeper face, her lips tightened and her eyebrow flicked up and down. Carly missed it somehow.

"Are you going to talk to him?" Carly asked.

"About what?'

"You know, how you are going to behave around each other. Won't it be kind of, I dunno, awkward?"

"Who cares? We'll still do the show, we just won't grope each other anymore," as she said that the plunging sense of loss in her chest made the room spin a little, but she recovered quickly.

Carly's face was scrunched into a petulant mask, "I'm angry he was so mean to you. What if he says he's sorry and wants to try again?"

"If he wants to try again?" Sam had slipped a few times in the last few minutes, and her breakdown in the early hours was a complete breach of all things Sam Puckett, but she was now assembling a new wall, a better defense against the young man who had dived so deeply into her hidden spaces. She held up the Pear Phone she clutched tightly. "Nothing from the nub at all," and there she made her stand. She felt the wet, hot pressure beneath her eyes. She blinked and with her astounding ability to close out a hurtful world, built over years of failed expectations, it was done.

"If he wanted to 'try again' he'd have called or texted." She waved the Pear phone. "So the nub got what he wanted."

Carly looked at her with her concerned "Carly face" the one that could be used by missionaries to illustrate the word concerned to illiterate third world populations, "Is it what you want, Sam? How do you feel? I mean, you kissed him…"

"Yeah, and I promptly checked myself into the 'Let's Talk About It' hotel," she said the last imitating a mental deficient with an impediment. "I'm over it," inside Sam something screamed.

Carly's face was uncertain and a little shocked at the cruelty in Sam's means of expression, "You called him 'nub'. You aren't going to go back to hitting him are you?"

Sam smiled the feeling of something precious dissolving was huge inside her but her capacity for denial surged into it violently. Inside her, two giants battered each other, clawing and biting, but all that showed outside was a kind of thoughtful reflection, like a mountain lake with a volcano roiling below a serene surface. "Depends on if he irritates me, I guess." The smile on her face was broad and only she knew how fake it was.

Carly stared at her, like Sam was a counterfeit bill but she couldn't say why.

Sam needed to move past Carly's intense gaze. She couldn't go back. She had a lot of new lies and pretenses to build. The Kiss had thrown all her old tricks and disguises into the sewer. Sam used Carly's own tactic against her, and went in sideways, "So what's up on the site?"

That did the trick. Carly's face clouded over indicating Sam had diverted her friend's attention. Carly rolled her eyes, "Ugh, these fans. You wouldn't believe the things some of them write about us. It isn't about if the show is funny or good, it's about us, you, me, Gibby, Freddie. How we look, who we're dating, what we do on dates, are we jealous. It's like High School on those illegal things baseball players use."

"Steroids."

"How did you know that?"

"It's illegal," She made a palms-up gesture; only the "duh" sound was missing.

"Oh, yeah, anyway, some fans are so mean! I can't stand it!'

"Okay! You don't have Spencer Shay to kick around anymore!" Spencer called to them. They turned to say goodbye but the door was closing already.

As the door slammed, Sam said, "Did you notice that Spencer was wearing your pants?"

"Yeah, it really bugged him that he couldn't fit in them a while back."

"Oh." Sam looked at her sideways, "Do you ever wish for a normal brother?"

"Only once. Trust me; you'd like it even less than me."

"And Freddie thinks _I'm_ abnormal. Okay, lemme see that screen." Sam stepped up and read the commentary that scrolled on the monitor. The volume of content was intimidating. For a while she read in silence. Then she said,

"This Night Sweats guy, is he the one that says my butt is too big?" Sam asked.

Carly nodded, "Night Terror. Yeah. He also says you have 'unfortunate thighs.' He thinks I'm flat chested and I have an eating disorder."

"Yeah, I saw that. He said instead of making Gibby sit in food we should feed you," Sam chuckled just slightly.

"He has lots of opinions."

"Yeah, well here he's saying the show sucked after me and Freddie started dating."

"A lot of people are saying that."

"What? Why? We were funny, we did Super Bra!"

"Where you had all the camera time."

"Yeah, but Freddie says the show from Troubled Waters where we kiss, the numbers almost brought the server down…"

"That show was also really short. Some fans felt cheated."

"That was you! You cut the show short."

"Then you and Freddie missed a show."

"Ugh! We said we were sorry, we were having fun, lost track of time…"

Carly's face twisted into a picture of frustration, "I just want to tell these people…"

"Wadda you wanna tell 'em Carls?" Sam saw something she could hook the rage train inside her onto. She needed to hit something.

"That all we owe them is a good show. That our lives are none of their business!"

Sam made a sucking sound on her teeth. "Nah, I don't think that's how it works these days." Anger was spitting and straining at the bars inside her, a fury that had nothing to do with fans. It was a crazy cannon swinging free, unconcerned with where it discharged.

"Who we like, how we live is nobody's business but our own," Carly said in a shrill voice that was as close to a snarl as she ever got.

"C'mon Carls, take a letter," Sam said, her blue eyes discharging sparks.

"What?"

"Start typing," Sam began to pace back and forth, steam, flames, and black smoke invisibly billowing out of her.

Carly hesitantly turned toward the counter, put her fingers tentatively on the keyboard, letter A thru semi-colon, the way she did when she wrote papers.

"To the Fans of iCarly," Sam dictated and made a pointing gesture to Carly who started to tap the keys.

"Many of you have watched and written in. We asked you what you thought about Freddie and Sam dating, and then we gave it to you."

"Sam, I don't know about…"

"TYPE!" Sam's voice was a thunderclap and Carly jolted into motion under some barely cloaked threat.

"Well, Sam and Freddie didn't work out. Sam and Freddie mutually agreed that they didn't click and they are no longer dating. The big mystery is over. No big loss, the show's the thing. iCarly is back on track. It will be like Sam and Freddie never happened."

"Sam…"

The blonde leaned into Carly's face so tightly Carly thought she was about to be kissed, "Do it," she hissed. Her breath was a mix of maple syrup and morning funk.

Carly swallowed and finished typing; she was vaguely scared, Sam was in the grip of something. Around the time of the lock-in Sam started changing. What was going on was real and beyond Carly's understanding. She and Sam read over the text.

"Looks good Carlotta," Carly noticed the veins standing out in Sam's neck.

"Sam, I can't post this."

"You chicken?" Sam said through her teeth, a spray of spit sparkled in the light.

"No. I just think…"

"Then click, Post."

"Freddie says never post in anger…"

At the mention of his name Sam jerked forward, pressed in again with almost-kissing-closeness. Sam was deliriously aware of her anger. She was feeding on it, a kind of sick stew. She was angry at a lot of things and one of them was Carly. That her stupid speech last night caused all of this, that it was always Carly. She was the star. She and Freddie were just disposable supporting characters in the show of Carly's life. Sam and Freddie were a plot line that didn't get the ratings numbers.

Barely taking her stabbing eyes away from Carly Sam moved the mouse to the Post button and clicked so hard there was a sound of cracking plastic.

"Sam! That went out in my name!"

Sam smiled, "You got us together, and you announced the crash and burn."

"Sam!"

Boobidy Boobidy Boo!" Sam said, then, "I'm gonna get some ham." The blonde turned and walked toward the kitchen.

"You can't bury this in ham!" Carly called.

"I can try!" she glanced back at Carly as she said it. Her look was frighteningly unSamlike, it had a crazed quality that made a shiver run down Carly's back.

This was very familiar somehow. Carly watched her friend run away from something again. For the briefest moment Carly thought of how Sam had pushed her to talk smack to Shelby Marx almost getting her beaten to salsa, how Sam had announced Freddie and Carly's "love" at Webicon causing mass insanity. She thought about all the times her best friend had acted impulsively, recklessly. The only crazy act that went anywhere good was when she kissed Freddie, and even that seemed to have been a mistake.

Carly shivered again.

A/N

Is it just me or is this getting weirder? Was this just a misunderstanding? Is that possible? Freddie thinks he was dumped, Sam thinks he wanted out, did I get that right? That elevator conversation was jacked-up. Still, a quick conversation would clear this up, right? I love Sam, but we have something less than full disclosure going on here. So, what's coiling under the surface?

But you won't see it just yet. Everybody has to get through the next day, the first encounter after the break-up. The working title for the next chapter is called "Weird Blue Monday."

Happy New Year Everyone.

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