Disclaimer: Raise your hand if you think I own iCarly. There should be no raised hands.

A/N: Back again. I was reading a story this morning and it was never finished and I got all annoyed. It made me think back to this story so I wrote up this chapter. I will finish this. It might take forever and a day (by the time I get the last chapter out, no one will even be reading anymore) but I will get it done. Four chapters to go. This one is a bit of a filler. When Halloween gets written, it will be a dozy of a chapter, let me tell you.

I decided to do Yom Kippur for two reasons. One was I felt the gap between the 4th of July and Halloween was too long and I wanted something to place in between them and two, though I'm not Jewish, in my own personal head canon, Sam is. This idea was influenced by Mizufae who as far as I know, was the first to claim Sam as Jewish.

/

Holiday Spirit

Chapter Six - Yom Kippur.

There was a guy in the corner of the room, one of those singer songwriter types. You know, with the half grown in beards and that wear scarves all year `round. He was playing an acoustic guitar, sending out a lush melody that flourished with ease. It wasn't the only thing in the air through, the smell of roasted beans thick and perfuming and trails of conversations seemingly everywhere also existed as Freddie sat all cozy in an arm chair placed near the window of the coffee shop. His feet were propped up on the wooden table, next to his closed laptop as he held a torn copy of The Catcher and the Rye open in his lap with one hand and a cup of decaf in the other.

Today was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, holiest day of the year for religious Jews. To the people in the faith, it was a day to fast and pray for repentance intensively. To Freddie who wasn't Jewish, it was a day off from school. Which as always he had conflicted feelings about. Freddie loved school, it just the kind of person he was- there was a natural high to be had every time he learned something new. He sat at the front of all his classes, hand always in the air. He studied relentlessly, critical of every fact and he did extra credit even if there was no extra credit to be done. School was like, his thing. But it wasn't all of who he was and he could relent to the truth that having a day off every once and awhile was important, was needed. It sometimes even helped the newly gained knowledge settle in.

So Freddie was making the most of his day off. Enjoying his coffee and a good book, one he's read many times over. He was at the part where Holden takes Phoebe to the Central Park Zoo when she came up behind him, leaning over the back of his chair and out of his peripherals he could see untamed blonde curls on either side of his face, tickling his cheek when she leaned over further. He paused for a second before tilting his head back and confirming his suspicions by locking eyes with the girl in question.

Sam.

To say things had been strained since the forth of July would pretty much be the hugest understatement ever made. She avoided him for the first three weeks. Every time he entered a room, she'd leave it. She pretended like he didn't exist at all, look right through him if he managed to catch her eye. He had given up all hope when one day she just appeared out of thin air and started up a conversation like the last three weeks hadn't happened; like that kiss never occurred. He didn't know how to react to her sudden acknowledgement of him again. Overly paranoid of doing or saying the wrong thing, he just sort of went with it. And that's how it's been up until this point. That kiss, the one dripping with vodka, and sour apples, and Sam had never happened and as much as he wanted to talk about it and everything that came along with it, he didn't because he knew her. He knew her better than she thought he did. He wasn't going to ruin whatever she wanted to call this game.

"Benson."

"Puckett." He answered back.

Her eyes flashed to the cup in his hand for a second before her attention returned to his face. "Black?"

"Decaf."

"Wuss." She snorted.

Sam moved from behind his chair, over towards the couch across from him. She was wearing her favorite We Set Fire! tee shirt, the white one that fit smug across her chest (not that he ever noticed or anything) and a pair of ripped jeans. Ripped due to years of abuse, Sam always said she was above buying the pre-distressed kind. He watched as the blonde threw herself carelessly onto the cushions, instantly finding a comfortable lounging position. She rested in the crook between the couch's arm and back, one low-cut red converse pushing against the cushion's soft material while the other cemented itself against the floor.

"So," She started, watching him intently. "Tell me your life story, kid."

"Don't call me kid."

"Don't give me lip." She responded instantly.

He arched a brow. "Don't give me reason too."

"Keep it up, Fredward. I'm not even going to feel a little bad about punching you in the head."

He just grinned slightly, closing the book in his lap. "This is what I'm up to. Coffee, book, quiet."

"How very boring of you." She noted with more jesting than malice.

"Yeah, thanks. What about you then? How have you been spending your day off?"

Sam shrugs somewhat, leaning back a little further. He got distracted by the way she started to play with a ring (he's not sure where it's from, just that she's always had it) on one of her index fingers. After a bit, her voice cut through the air. "Today's been a good day. Whooped the chiz out of Gibby in video games earlier because he had the gull to challenge the master. Hung out with Carls for a bit until her and Mark really turned up the puke factor and I had to bail. Just been wandering the city since then."

"Causing general chaos?" He asked, knowing the answer.

Her grin said it all.

"Shouldn't you be in a temple, praying or something?" Freddie tilted his head, deciding to provoke her a little. "Isn't that what your people do on Yom Kippur?"

"Shouldn't you be in a coffee shop, pretentiously drinking coffee and reading novels- oh wait, nevermind." She answered back, causing both of them to chuckle a little because of how familiar their interactions have become.

"We both know why I'm here, why are you?"

Her grinned widened and she puffed out her cheeks comically for a second before speaking. "I was on my way somewhere and I passed by the window. I stopped and thought to myself," She continued on in a sing-song voice. "How much is that nublet in the window, the one with the dumb, dumb haircut. How much-"

"Where were you going?" He interrupted her while rolling his eyes.

"Huh?"

"Where where you going?" He asked again. "You said you were on your way somewhere."

"Oh, it's actually got something to do with Yom Kippur, part of my celebration." She pushed out of the crook she had been leaning in, getting to her feet. "You wanna come?"

He fixed her with a questioning look.

"It's safe." She reassured him, inspiring little reassurance as he took the hand she offered and pulled himself up.

As the two of them exited the butcher's shop, Freddie watched in mild disgust when Sam took another bite from the stick of ham (he was at first horrified that they made giant sticks of ham, but later found out they actually don't, it was just a customized thing for Sam for being their best customer).

"You're like the worst Jewish person ever."

Sam swallowed, looking at Freddie as they moved along the sidewalk. "Shut up, Benson. You don't even know anything about my people and being a Jew."

"Sam." He started in his know-it-all voice. "Which one of us reads books here? I probably know more about your people than you do."

"Nub."

"Lay-about."

"Dork." The blonde took another bite of ham.

"Uncouth meat eater."

She smirked while chewing. "Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, you're only proving my point."

Sam opened her mouth wide, showing him the chewed up ham bits still on her tongue and causing the brunette boy to groan out, wincing a bit before steeling his eyes in front of him. Her laugh was loud, just like everything else about her. It was nice though. He always enjoyed making her laugh, even if it was usually at his expense. The last two months or so, Freddie had been doing a lot of thinking her, about him and her. What she means to him, what they are to one and other. Mostly he's been thinking about what happened that fourth of July and how badly he's wanted to kiss her ever since then.

He doesn't understand the urges, only that he has them. He supposed there was merit to the theory that opposites attracted but the two of them were at extremes, as far away as you could get and he just didn't see it working. That didn't stop him from replaying their (he wouldn't call it drunken but maybe buzzed) kiss over and over again in his head. It was torturing himself for no reason considering Sam maybe it clear through her actions that it would never happen again. That it hadn't even happened in the first place and that should have been enough to wipe the memory from his head but it wasn't. It just wasn't.

"- are you even listening to me, dorkface?"

He stopped walking and shook his head, trying to get the cobwebs out. "Yes."

"Whatda I just say then?" She asked, stopping a few steps in front of him and turning around.

"You just said 'Whatda I just say then?"

Sam watched him with a calculating stare before one corner of her lips turned upwards. "Clearly mama is a bad influence on you."

Standing there watching her, something shifted inside of him and before he could stop himself, words were tumbling out.

"Hey, Sam. Do you think we could tal-"

"Here, hold this." The blonde girl interrupted him, as if she knew what he was about to ask. Sam handed Freddie her stick of ham before moving behind him. He tried to turn around but her hands on either side of his shoulders kept him facing the other direction. Five seconds later, she jumped on his back, causing him to stumble a step forward before gaining his balance. She ripped her ham out of his hand as she continued. "There, alright, let's go."

"What are you doing?" He asked, hands supporting her legs despite himself.

"I'm tired of walking. Been walking all day."

"So?" He asked.

"So now you gotta carry me." She said as if he was slow in the head.

"Sam, my car is just around the corner."

She nodded. "Yeah, so you better get moving if you want me off your back."

Freddie said nothing for a moment before sighing, deciding now wasn't the time to bring up the kiss. He started walking again, muttering. "If it were only so easy, would have done it years ago."

In retribution to his comment, she smacked him lightly against the cheek with her stick of ham.

"Sam! Come on, that's gross."