A/n: So. It's been a while. How've you all been. Any marriages? Babies? How about a good old Bar Mitzvah? I had a break up :) So now that we've re-acquainted we can finally get on with the show :)
p A/n: So. It's been a while. How've you all been. Any marriages? Babies? How about a good old Bar Mitzvah? I had a break up :) So now that we've re-acquainted we can finally get on with the show :)
Disclaimer: ...
3 3 3
'Where you going with that floss? I told you I don't like floss,' Sam shivered when Freddie returned with floss and a safety pin.
'Seriously floss, that's all it would have taken all these years?' Freddie murmured, grabbing her left hand in his before using his right to thread the floss through the ring towards her wrist, using the safety pin to push it through correctly.
'What are you doing?' She questioned sounding slightly creeped out.
'Do you want this ring off or not?' He asked, as he began to wind the floss up her finger, stopping at her knuckle.
'I've tried everything, hot water, soap, the lubricant in the top drawer of your night stand,' she rhymed off as he tied a loop in the floss at her knuckle.
'Firstly; hot water's just going to swell your finger up more, secondly, it's hand sanitizer, not lubricant you absolute pervert and thirdly, what where you doing in my nightstand?' He rapped back, before he pulled on the loose floss by her wrist.
'I got in the mood, but your collection was to polite for me, really, Victoria secret the best you got?' She teased.
'The scary thing is I think you are being serious,' he replied, as the floss began to unravel in a clockwise motion, pushing the ring further up Sam's finger.
'Jesus, are you trying to skin my finger,' she cried as the friction caused her finger to redden.
'Don't be a baby,' he mocked her. She stuck her tongue out at him in return.
With one last tug the ring was realised.
'It worked!' Cried sam, as Freddie pulled the engagement ring off her finger, rubbing soothingly at her finger.
'It's just scientific logic.' He smirked smugly.
'I don't care,' Sam replied flatly.
'A simple thank you would be nice,' he rolled his eyes.
3 3 3
'So are you just going to lay around in my old polo shirts for the next week,' Freddie asked, climbing out the window to the fire escape, where Sam sat with one off his old polo shirts pulled over her knees and a fleece blanket wrapped around her.
'Carly's dropping my suitcase by tomorrow before the rehearsal dinner when she comes to collect the engagement ring,' replied Sam, smiling when he handed her a mug of hot chocolate. He eased himself down beside her, setting his mug beside him and pulling Sam's feet into his lap. He placed his hands on them which where warm from holding the hot mugs.
She stretched her legs out causing the polo shirt to rise up and the cold her to hit her exposed skin. She shivered slightly wrapping the blanket around both of them tightly.
'Your feet are freezing, do you want socks?' He questioned like the Casanova he was.
'No, and before you rhyme of one of your mothers awkward sayings, just keep your hands warm and on my feet,' she demanded, taking a sip of her drink.
He rolled his eyes before lifting his hands to his mouth, breathing hot air into them, rubbing them together and placing them over her feet again.
Sam let out a contented sigh as Freddie's fingers unconsciously began to massage the aches that last night's heels had left on Sam's feet.
'A little to the left,' she ordered.
'Sam?' He questioned.
'Hmm' she murmured.
'Shut up,' he muttered.
Silence fell between them again. Sam looked out at the snow fluttering slowly around them. Of course Carly would go for a Christmas wedding, what was more important than Carly's wedding? Jesus's birthday? Of course not. Who cares about something as unimportant as that? Certainly not Carly.
Sam loved Christmas. It was one of the only times of the year that Sam and her mom spent as a family. Everybody got the wrong impression of Pam Puckett. She tried her best she really did. She mightn't always do the right thing but she always tried to. Everything she did, she did for Sam.
Do you think she really had any interest in dating a boring old trombone teacher? No.
Did she want her daughter to have the chance to play a musical instrument? Yes.
Did she really want to go out with the sweaty Italian butcher? No.
Did she need the discount on meat to help her and her daughter get by that month? Yes.
Was it a plus that he taught her daughter another language? Hells yeah, it's a proven fact that the ability to speak another language improved your chances of getting into college.
Did it matter that her daughter didn't go to college? No, she was doing something she loved at that's all that really mattered wasn't it?
'I like you hair like that,' Freddie knocked her out of her revive.
'Hmm,' she asked, snapping her head towards him
'Your hair. I like it up out of you face, you can see your eyes better,' he muttered, suddenly feeling very stupid.
'Thanks,' muttered Sam, a slight blush gracing her cheeks as she brushed a curly strand behind her ear.
And suddenly he didn't feel so stupid any more.
'So, Carly says you're taking someone to the wedding...Olive? Is that her name?' She asked.
'Olivia, and yeah,' he replied with a nod.
'Yeah that's what I said,' she nodded, 'so is it like a date, date thing?' She asked.
'I don't...I mean...' He stammered, not knowing whether to tell Sam the truth or not.
'Because,' she began to ramble, ' I was just thinking how fun these past couple of days have been,'
'Yeah so was I' agreed Freddie.
'And I thought it would be sort of cool if we you know...' She shrugged hoping he'd but the next few pieces together.
'You don't have a date...?' He hesitated.
'No. Well yes. But...' She began to stutter.
'
'We could cancel them?' He questioned unsure.
'Something like that,' she smiled, only now did they realise how close their faces had become.
'Sounds like a plan,' he replied as Sam set her mug to the side.
Their eyes met and stayed on each other's. Sam's tongue darted out over her lips as Freddie's hand inched up her leg. They moved even closer to each other. A small smile played on Sam's lips before she spoke.
'Can anyone see?' She whispered against his lips.
'No, we're pretty much closed off to the rest of the world up here,' he murmured
'Good, just the way I like it,' she answered. And then they were kissing.
They were slow, needy, kisses. They'd both waited so long and now it was finally happening. One of Sam's hands snaked up to his broad shoulders her other one slid down her leg to clasp his.
Freddie backed away slowly and Sam shook her head vigorously.
'No!' She cried, 'don't open your big mouth and ruin everything,'
'But we...' He began.
'No, no, we don't need to talk about anything it can wait until after the wedding, I promise then, then we can talk but for now, for now can we please…' she begged, pausing to rest her forehead against his, ' please, just enjoy the moment.'
'Sure,' dragged out Freddie before chuckling slightly, 'I was just going to say it's pretty cold out here, do you wanna head inside,'
Sam paused for a moment, before she threw a seductive look his way.
'Actually, I think a fire escape is one of the only places we haven't done this,' she teased.
'How very uncouth Princess Puckett,' gasped Freddie grinning.
'I have no clue what that means, but I'm guessing I probably am,' she grinned before she leaned in and captured Freddie's lips.
Only the absolutely necessary clothing was removed it was too damn cold for full frontal. The mugs of hot chocolate where knocked over and the contents investable ended up smeared on their skin. And Freddie's back was in agony from where Sam had pressed him into the ladder. But it was the best damn sex either of them had.
Freddie's touch wasn't so shy. Sam was able to be as vocal as she wanted to be without the fear of being caught. And Freddie can't remember a more gorgeous image than Sam on top off him, cheeks flushed, voice hoarse as they both finished.
'That was fun,' Sam muttered sleepily after she caught her breath.
'It was alright I guess,' panted out Freddie as he let his hand roam her thigh.
'Hmm,' stated Sam, lifting her head up and propping her chin on his chest, 'maybe we need a second go at it then,' she teased, rotating her hips against his causing him to wince.
'Christ Sam!' He winced, angling himself out of her reach, 'recover time?' He questioned.
'Here's me thinking you hadn't got anything to recover from,' she challenged.
'Shut up,' he laughed, running his free hand through his hair.
'What? I hear second times longer...' She taunted.
'Let me have a shower and we'll put that theory to the test,' he informed.
'Race ya,' squealed Sam girlishly…well as girlishly as Sam can be. Jumping off him and running over the window into his bedroom, landing on top of his bed.
Freddie leaned up on his elbows, grinning as he watched Sam jump up and down on his bed.
'Are you coming are not, nub,' demanded Sam.
Freddie was screwed.
'Ready. Steady. Go!' Cried Freddie, but Sam was long gone running in the directions off the shower.
So screwed. He was in love with her.
3 3 3
The next few weeks had been much of the same thing: actions, but no words. That was how Sam dealt with things best anyway. He sighed, rolling his neck trying to get the kinks out of it. He didn't consider himself old, he was only 26, but apparently when you had a fun time buddy who had all the energy of a Duracell bunny, and a craving for adventure, it all took a hold on one's body.
Sam had left for the last dress fitting and it was the first time he'd been alone in his apartment for almost a whole week. He studied his to do list, ticking off what he had already done.
Leave suit into the dry cleaners. Check.
Collect suit from the dry cleaners. Check.
Assigned everyone in work to their projects for the next week. Check.
Try and get out of bachelor party. Check.
Go to bachelor party that you never got out of. Check.
Have hangover remedy. Check.
Cancel date with Olivia.
Tell Carly you aren't taking a date.
'What the hell did you guys do to me,' groaned someone from the couch. So he guessed he wasn't so alone.
'Hey man, don't blame me, this one was all Spencer,' laughed Freddie, as Stephan clutched his head and attempted to sit up straight.
A bang interrupted the pair before a dishevelled looking Spencer stumbled into the living room.
'What's on fire?' Freddie hesitantly asked.
'Other than my stomach nothing,' Spencer informed, throwing a glare Freddie's way as he eased himself into the couch beside his sister's future husband.
'What's with the Carly esque look!' Defended Freddie, 'I didn't force the alcohol down your throats,'
'No, but you don't look in half the shape we're in,' grunted Stephen.
'I've already sweated it off me,' he informed, throwing his notepad on the coffee table in front of them.
'You had the energy to go to the gym,' Spencer asked, 'I wish I had the energy to go to the gym full stop, never mind with a hangover.'
'Little Rosie is work out enough for you dude,' Freddie informed, 'But I wasn't at the gym this morning.'
'Then how'd you...' Stephen trailed off, as a cheeky grin spread across Freddie's face.
'No...' Spencer Drew out.
Freddie simply winked in both their directions before continuing, 'the big greasy, fatty, bacon sandwich she made for me after didn't hurt either,'
Stephens face paled, a he sniffed the air, the bacon smell flowing from the kitchen causing him to gag, before he scrambled up and running in the direction of the bathroom.
'You'll feel better after you get it out of your system, trust me buddy!' Called Freddie.
'Who are you and what have you done with the sweet innocent Benson kid?' Spencer asked, as he watched his future brother in law trip over his feet as he rammed himself down the hall.
'He went to college and soaked up a bit more testosterone and a little less oestrogen,' replied Freddie.
'Hey!' Cried Spencer, at the unintentional hit at his masculinity. Freddie laughed, before wincing and rubbing his back at the sudden movement, 'I feel you buddy, them mattresses in the guest room aren't the best. Speaking of the guest room, where'd Sam sleep if I slept in the spare bed?' Spencer asked rubbing at his lower back.
Freddie considered him for a moment. Did he tell Spencer, Sam's surrogate brother, the truth or did he lie and have a man to man conversation about the mystery girl who helped him sweat off his hangover and give him an aching back? Freddie's mind momentarily drifted to a few years back.
It was Christmas. The first time they'd talked since Italy. Carly had left to swap gifts with Stephen in private before he got a flight back to New York to spend the rest of Christmas with his family.
'Jesus Benson, it's a zip, not a padlock,' Sam snapped, pushing Freddie's hands out of the way and unzipping her shorts, before grabbing his shirt and pulling him back to her.
'I thought we were meant to be talking Sam,' protested Freddie, although the hand that was snaking its way down her shorts didn't seem to be off the same opinion.
Or the hands that had pulled of the Christmas top Carly had forced her to wear for the iCarly one off Christmas special.
And when her hands met his guiding him to just the right spot, all protest went out the Window.
His lips found hers again and he prayed his tech cart wouldn't collapse under both their weight.
'Oh my holy Saint Nick!' Exclaimed a male voice, causing both Sam and Freddie to jump.
'Have you ever heard of knocking!' Cried out Sam, attempting to cover herself with her arms.
'This is my apartment!' Exclaimed Spencer, covering his eyes with his own arms. Until this day, Spencer still knocks doors before entering-in his own house
'You can't tell Carly!' Were the first words to fall out of Freddie's mouth. Sam's face scrunches up slightly, her eyebrows knitting together, her eyes squinting and her nose crinkling. On hindsight Freddie thinks it was probably confusion, hurt maybe, but at the time it seemed like the logical thing to say.
'Freddie,' whispered Sam harshly, her eyes narrowing at his hand that was still shoved down her shorts, causing him to snap it back.
'Downstairs.' Spencer breathed, pointed in the direction of the elevator.
'Can we at least get...' Began Sam before Spencer raised his voice for the first time in...ever.
'Now!'
Sam leaped off the cart, rushing in to the elevator, not even bothering to grab her jumper and bracing herself for an icy ride down.
Freddie and Sam sat in silence on living room couch as Spencer paced in front of them.
After another few moments of silence Sam finally interrupted it.
'Look, if you're just going to pace back and forth can I get my jumper please!' She demanded indicating to her bare arms and stomach.
'Are you being safe?' He finally asked, when they both went bright red and Sam shut her mouth Spencer knew his answer 'seriously? Right I'm not even going to lecture you, if you both feel you are mature enough to deal with...whatever this thing is, go right ahead but you' he said pointing at Freddie ' need to get protection,' he stated, grabbing his car keys and heading for the door, 'well? Are you coming?'
'What? Now?' Asked Freddie
'No, nine months from now when Sam's your baby momma, yes now!' Snapped Spencer.
'Can I come?' Sam asked as Freddie straightened out his clothing.
'
No!' They both cried outraged.
'What! It's my body I should have the right to decided what I but inside of it'. She argued.
'Look, Sam, I just want to talk to Freddie alone, something I should have done a long time ago,' Spencer explained.
Sam hesitated before nodding her head and sitting down again.
'And For the love of God put some clothes on'