The importance of notes: I try to reply to all my reviewers but I've been pretty slack lately. I will get around to it I promise. But just for now I'll say a big group thank you, thank you so very very much! So... how does everyone like their clichés? Full of cleesh? Well hold onto your hats kids, because here it goes.

Disclaimer: If I owned iCarly we wouldn't have to wait weeks for a new episode, or have to put up with any Cruddie moments. Ew.

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SIX:

...the walls that lie between us.

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Feeling awkward in your own house sucks. No, it more than sucks, it blows. In fact, as scientifically impossible as it may be it actually sucks and blows at the same time. I must have spent at least a good hour and a half pacing in my living room trying to put a hole in the carpet; if nothing else. All the while mentally going back and forth with indecision over how to handle what had happened with Sam.

The incessant questions just wouldn't stop. I was driving myself crazy. Was I supposed to stay and talk about it? She wouldn't want to address it; that was obvious, so I would have to be out of my mind to consider that as an option. Should I stay and pretend it was nothing? Well, that would have just been too awkward to bear; I needed separation and time away from this. But what if I waited till she emerged just to gauge her mood before I made my decision about how to handle it? That just seemed far too pathetic.

For fuck sake!

I'm sure if I were to voice all of this to a therapist she'd have me in a straight jacket being hauled off to the local nut house before I could even say 'Samantha Puckett is a menace to society'. No question.

Anger, fear, hate, curiosity, annoyance. Probably the most ridiculous combination of feelings to ever come over me all at once, and all in a very short space of time. I was so angry at her ability to just switch on and off the way she did, I feared the ridicule she would hit me with for being a 'horny teenage perve' if she spoke of it at all, and I hated that she was making me feel like this; making me feel so confused and so uncomfortable in my own house.

I've had enough of this shit!

Then there was this new foreign emotion when it came to Sam; curious. Sam was in my bathroom after all, using my shower. My hormones were already having some kind of mental break down inside me, and I couldn't help where my mind wandered to as soon as I registered a wet, naked girl in my shower. But again, it wasn't just any girl; it was Sam.

Why the fuck did it have to be Sam?

I'd had my fair share of fantasies about wet, naked girls in my shower many times, granted, I was always in there with said wet, naked girl, but that was just fantasy. I'd always thought that if a girl ever needed to use my shower for whatever reason it would be Carly, never had I ever imagined Sam being the first. Someone upstairs must be sitting back and just laughing their asses off at all my misfortunes of late, enjoying it thoroughly. Kind of sounds like something Sam would do, but was just too baffling to even contemplate.

All of that mess lead to annoyance. I was annoyed at feeling so confused about everything, annoyed at her for being so dismissive, annoyed at her for being in my shower, annoyed at her for just being her and just being here... causing this whole shit storm. Just. Plain. Fucking. Annoyed!

She was obviously taking her sweet time in the bathroom, so she could stew and plot her revenge and ignore whatever it was that had happened. She would emerge whenever the hell she felt like it and either berate me or pretend I didn't exist. Either one of those options didn't sit well with me so I gave up trying to decide on a clear path. In the end, I just opted for isolation. I set up the sofa bed and exiled myself to my bedroom. I was exiled, in my own house.

Bullshit. Total bullshit.

I tried to keep busy, but when you have a possible seething Sam Puckett just one door away, it makes focusing on anything else near impossible. Not only could I hear her out there moving around, changing the channels, getting food, and just being her regular irritating self; I could also practically feel her. I could feel her through my door all 'Sam' and high and mighty, having the time of her freakin life with my TV, while I was stuck in my bedroom to sift through the mess that she'd created in my head.

Consideration had never been a strong point for Sam, in fact, having that word and Sam in the same sentence is an oxymoron in itself. That particular quality was lost on her, last night being a perfect example. It was almost as if she was making as much noise as possible just to piss me off, just to make a point. Didn't surprise me.

She'd watched hours of loud TV, constantly flipping the channels, and had pretty much cleared out my entire fridge; finally giving into sleep and settling down at around 3am. I wasn't accustomed to staying up that late, but how the hell was I supposed to sleep with... with all that going on in my living room? When I did finally manage to get some sleep it was broken and agitated; a mixture between a fear of being strangled and the same lingering annoyance that just wouldn't vanish.

So here I was standing in the middle of my room again pacing... thinking... brooding... fuming. Afraid to go into my own kitchen, afraid because Sam was here, afraid that I might wake her, afraid that she might want to talk about the incident, afraid that she might not, afraid that she might poke fun at my fragile teenage hormones. I felt pathetic.

I held onto the door handle and hung my head. I sucked in a large breath before yanking the door open with force; walking out with renewed confidence. Ok, so it was totally false bravado but still, I had to give myself props for being able to fake anything resembling composure at this point.

Walking out into the living room I could hear Sam's deep steady breathing and sighed in relief, knowing that she was still asleep. I walked by the sofa and peered over the back hesitantly. Sam was flat out on her stomach, arms and legs sprawled out all over the mattress, taking advantage of all the space she could possibly occupy at one time. She looked oddly charming with a small smirk on her face, and it was... refreshing seeing her like that, seeing her look so peaceful. Blonde curls fanned out all over the pillow, plus she had this whole tousled look going on, which was kind of–

She grunted and I ran for the kitchen quickly making myself busy with breakfast preparations. I was shocked to find the pound of bacon still in the fridge unharmed so I set to work on bacon and eggs. I placed them on the counter before grabbing a pan out of the cupboard and putting it on the stove. I'd barely even turned the stove on before Sam grumbled from over on the sofa bed, her voice muffled by the pillow she had her face buried in.

"Unless you're making a pot of coffee bigger than your head, could you keep it the fuck down over there?"

I leaned on the counter to shout back at her. "It's almost noon, don't you think you should get your lazy ass up?" I snapped and she just groaned at the sound of my voice. "I'm making breakfast." I knew that would get her attention.

She immediately shot up, peering over the back of the sofa, her hair in disarray and her face all scrunched still half asleep. "Breakfast? What are you making?"

"Bacon and eggs."

"Well why didn't you say that in the first place?" She chirped, launching herself over the back of the sofa sauntering up to the counter and plopping in a seat. "Coffee, black, Jeeves." She grinned.

I poured her coffee and went back to the task at hand, rolling my eyes in the process. It was silent for a while and I could feel her eyes glaring at the back of my head as I made her food.

I spun around. "What?"

She looked at the stove and then up at me wryly. "You're doing it wrong."

I huffed angrily. "How exactly am I doing it wrong?"

"I don't know... you just are." She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee.

I glared at her for a minute. "You know you could say thank you."

She raised her brows. "For?"

"Oh I don't know, how about setting up your bed. Or making your food... or just putting up with you in general." I said harshly, pointing the spatula at her for emphasis, feeling completely ridiculous as I did it.

Loser.

She pursed her lips before responding with a pop. "Well, don't hold your breath."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head and just let the silence permeate. I could feel my exasperation building and I knew if I continued to engage in any kind of verbal communication, I would just lose it. So instead I scowled at the bacon in the pan as I watched it cook.

Ignorant fucking inanimate bacon.

There were a few groans from behind me and even a few tsk's as I moved the bacon around the pan without enthusiasm. I completely ignored her, focusing intently on trying to steady my breathing and not beat her across the head repeatedly with the spatula. A few minutes passed and I heard Sam get up from the chair with a groan and move over to stand beside me.

"Oh my god, I can't take it anymore! Here, give me it." She snapped, trying to shove me out of the way.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked indignantly.

"Let me handle this. Go sit down before you hurt yourself." She pushed.

"I am perfectly capable of making bacon and eggs." I replied, giving her my own shove.

"No you're really not, now give it here." She retorted forcefully, her hand now covering mine holding the pan.

I tried to elbow her away. "Stop it!"

Sam continued to shove and elbow and kick and... everything else she usually did, attempting to pry the spatula away from me, her death grip almost making me drop it on the floor. I raised it above my head using my newly discovered height advantage against her. She continued to struggle against me, reaching right up and standing on her toes; getting way too far into my personal space. Her disheveled bed hair was now all up in my face and under my nose, her tiny boxer shorts that left little to the imagination falling low on her hips and her old worn out 'Cheese is Love' t-shirt lifted up to reveal her stomach ever so slightly.

"Just. Give. It." She said sternly.

"No Sam quit it!" I yelled, fighting against her.

"Would you just..."

"Sam quit..."

"...gimmie it."

"...grabbing me! Just stop! Just stop ok?" I bellowed.

My pulse was pounding. Fury was filling my body and I had an overwhelming ungentlemanly desire to scream in her face until she just left me the hell alone. Sam quickly retreated backwards, obviously not expecting such hostility from me.

"I was only-"

"I don't need your help." I cut her off and turned back to the stove, unable to look at her anymore. "Just leave me alone."

I could feel the disbelief radiating off her and swirling through the air. I'd crossed the line, I'd actually scared Sam Puckett for probably the first time in history, and I didn't even seem to care. She was the ungrateful, rude, selfish and immature one. I had every right to be pissed at her.

Yeah, sure.

She just stood there and glared at me, arms folded, eyes burning a hole into the side of my face. I was about ready to just throw everything into the sink and be done with it, I'd happily exile myself back to my room starving for the next two days than have to put up with anymore of her crap... any more of this crap. But she finally resigned her glare and went back to the sofa with her coffee, I breathed a sigh of relief, frustration and annoyance all at once.

This was horrible. Just one giant, horribly fucked up situation, and there was no way out of it. I plated up the food and decided to just leave hers on the bench. I'm sure her acutely trained nose would follow the smell eventually. I took mine back to my bedroom feeling completely miserable. I really needed to just not be around her for a while.

Pussy!

The relief that I got from my empty and completely Sam-less room didn't do much against the rapidly building guilt I felt. God I was so sick of feeling guilty all the time, guilty and confused. She was the one causing all of this... this, why should I feel guilty about anything? I tried to reject the feeling, desperately. I even went so far as to punching a pillow several times, which only proved to be a quick fix. The guilt remained, and so did the annoyance which then only lead to more confusion.

FUCK! I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.

I really didn't want to be in here, but where else could I go? I was trapped and I needed a distraction. I thought about what would be able to captivate my mind the most. Immediately, shower time with 'Little Freddie' seemed like a great idea.

It was a massive fucking mistake.

Sam.

As I let the water run over my face and closed my eyes.

All I could see was Sam.

Sam and her blonde hair, smirking at me in that equally infuriating and endearing way she always does, royally pissing me off. I hit the wall a few times in an attempt to change the image in my head as quickly as possible. It took a couple of minutes, and even then, my regular Megan Fox didn't make a visit, so I had to settle for some nameless, faceless brunette... whoever the hell she was, at least she wasn't blonde.

I left the bathroom some time later, feeling relaxed and slightly more clear headed. That was, until I heard Sam laughing on the phone in the living room. I shook my head as I walked into my room, slamming the door with a little too much force. I think I actually heard something snap.

Nice job ace.

It was only a little after two o'clock by this time, and I spent the next few hours on the iCarly website, before having a very detailed, and thankfully, distracting conversation with my other AV enthusiast friends online. Of course when that ended everything that had transpired in the last two days came crashing around me.

I threw my hands through my hair in frustration repeatedly as I leaned over my desk. I couldn't continue living like this. One of us was going to have to break the tension and it certainly wasn't going to be her. When I finally got the balls to get up from the desk and walk over to the door, I was still uneasy about giving in to her bullshit, but once I got out into the hall I found it wasn't hard, never as hard as I had envisioned it would be.

I half expected to hear the TV blaring but it was fairly quiet, when I rounded the corner I saw Sam standing in the living room pulling cards and money out of her wallet and placing them in the back pockets of her jeans. She was wearing insanely tight black jeans paired with her vintage 'The Clash' t-shirt... she was dressed up... to go out.

"You heading out?" I asked nervously, burying my hands in pockets.

"Yep." Sam replied abruptly, never looking up at me.

"Oh. Where ahh... where you going?"

"Matt called. There's a party at some apartment downtown."

"Matt?" I questioned with a tone of confusion.

"Matt Price."

My body tensed. "Matt Price?" I felt anger start to well up inside me again. "That douche from history class?"

"That's the one." She smirked.

"I didn't even know you were friends." I said slowly trying to calm myself. I waited for Sam to respond instead she just shrugged and continued to gather her things. I inhaled sharply and decided to just lay it all out. "Look, about before-"

"It's fine." She cut me off firmly.

"No... it's not. I just wanted to say-"

Again she cut me off. "Seriously, don't worry about it."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You're serious?"

She sighed. "I guess. I mean... you know, you've actually been doing that a lot lately. And I get it; I do. You've obviously got some serious shit going down and Carly isn't here to listen to your PMS-ing, so I get it, ok. It's fine." Of course she would throw in an insult during a semi-sincere moment. I couldn't tell if she was completely serious or not but I laughed dryly anyway. "In fact. Why don't you come to the party? You're in desperate need of some fun."

"You want me to come?" I frowned as she opened the door.

She paused and turned her signature smirk on me. "Well, I didn't say that."

The party was as cliché as any post high school summer bash you'd expect. The house was ridiculously ostentatious, marble bench tops, high priced entertainment systems; all of that junk to make me sufficiently jealous. I couldn't see Sam anywhere over the crowds of teenage bodies dancing, drinking, making out in corners. I simply stood by the staircase sipping my coke, regretting I even agreed to this kind of lunacy, it just wasn't me.

Feeling like a complete loner and far too out of my element to get any kind of pleasure from this atmosphere, I scanned my eyes over the sea of bodies trying to spot Sam and tell her I was leaving. I hoped that when I found her she would be inebriated enough to quietly follow me out of here and not kick up a fuss, I just had to find her. I was about ready to try my luck at calling her when I felt a warm hand grab me by the arm and whisper in my ear.

"Hey Freddie." Said a velvety, mysterious voice.

Calm washed over me as her cool breath tickled my neck. The voice was familiar, but at the same time new, and I closed my eyes as she continued.

"Want to come upstairs?"

I didn't even get a chance to respond before she was dragging me up to the second floor. I didn't resist nor did I open my eyes, I just let her guide me up the stairs down the hall and into an empty bedroom. I finally opened my eyes and glanced around, it was too dark to make out anything specific and I was too wrapped up in trying to get a look at the girl standing by the door. I could only make out her fair skin which contrasted with the darkness of the room and her long, straight, dark brown hair. She didn't speak and the air became palpable. I opened my mouth but no sound came out, I tried again but nothing. Seeing this, the girl giggled shyly before moving over to me slowly, deftly, placing her arms around my neck and connecting her lips with mine.

I didn't respond right away, shock taking over my system completely, but she continued to move her lips against my stagnant ones. She pulled away and smiled widely at me, it was then that the familiarity of her swept over me. She reminded me of Carly. Her warmth and her kindness radiated off her, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

I smiled back at her and she pushed me down onto the bed, straddling me. I reached up to the back of her neck and pulled her down to me, kissing her urgently. It was panicked and intense and I was enjoying every single moment. I didn't know who this girl was, I didn't even know her name, yet here I was alone in a dark room making out with her. It was euphoric.

My hands trailed up her back as she dragged hers through my hair. Every cell in my body felt drawn to her, fiercely connected to her, and completely aroused. I gently moved a stray blonde curl away from her face before I lifted her shirt up over her head.

Blonde? Wasn't it dark brown before?

She hummed with desire as I cupped her firm breast, massaging it and softly pinching the exposed skin. I was amazed with my own prowess and the nerves that I always thought would come with a situation like this were completely absent. I knew exactly what to do and there was no uncertainty about anything.

There was major electricity passing between us and I knew where this grope fest would ultimately lead. I was going to lose my virginity to some random girl at some random party... and I'd never felt more alive. The thought alone caused me to moan into her mouth as I traced my hands up her skirt, giving her ass a firm squeeze. She bunched the front of my shirt with her hands and wrenched it open, buttons flying all over the room. She then went to work on my neck kissing down my chest all the while grinding herself against my pulsating erection. "Mmmm Sam." I moaned.

Sam? SAM!

I jerked awake, sitting completely upright, sweat dripping off me. Everything was burning and my heart was pounding in my ears.

What the fuck just happened?

I was completely disorientated and it took me a few minutes to get back to reality, I looked over at the clock, 2.14am. I rubbed my head a few times to collect my jumbled thoughts.

I didn't go to the party, I'd just dropped Sam off, came back home and passed out. The exhaustion from the last two days catching up with me.

My mouth felt like I'd been sipping on acid so I staggered across the room and out to the kitchen for some much needed refreshment. I downed one glass of water before filling up again and resting my head against the cool fridge. Everything was kind of a blur. As I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing, I remembered the dream. It was different to the others I'd had before and I couldn't make sense of it. My previous dreams had always started and ended with the same girl, Sam being the exception. Whenever I had some terrifyingly confused dream about her it would end abruptly, just like it had tonight.

What the fuck is going on?

I gave up with a sigh and headed back to my bedroom when I heard a click followed by a thump coming from the hall. It happened again, then silence. I walked over to the door and opened it cautiously.

There was Sam slumped against the opposite wall legs sprawled out, clutching a bottle of something in a brown paper bag. She looked the epitome of classy.

"Heeeeeeeeeey. You got the door opennnn!" Sam cheered.

My dulled senses registered that she was drunk.

"Sam?" I questioned like an idiot. I knew it was her, but apparently my brain filter hadn't quite kicked in. I was still kind of dazed.

"No, I'm the Sultan of Brunei!" She sang, spreading her arms wide before giggling to herself like a preschooler.

I watched as she tried to gather herself on her feet. It took her a few tries but she managed to get there using the wall as support. She turned and looked at me with a dopey smile before half stomping and half stumbling into the apartment.

"Sumfin smells weeeeeeeeird in ere." Sam lost her balance and fell to her hands and knees. She took a few seconds to steady herself before using the couch to pull herself up. "Isit beets?" She tripped again, this time resigning herself to the floor. "Ok!" She screamed to the carpet. "Couldja tell tha tattooed beeerded beet smellin freaky ass carny in tha corner to slow the ride down or ima puke all up in heeeere."

Ok, she was more like completely shit faced.

"Sam." I stood her up and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes were bloodshot and completely glazed over; there was no way I'd be able to get any sense out of her. "You're drunk."

"Oooooh, nice obs... obs... observashionism Freds." She slurred and then giggled again. I would've laughed as well, purely because her laugh was contagious, had I not been holding my breath from the rank odor pouring out of her. She'd been smoking too. Her eyes were rolling around in her head as she tried to speak. "Can... can... canya get off me now so I can go puke?" She asked all woozy, her head swaying back and forth. I instantly let go of her shoulders and watched her run, looking like a ball in a pinball machine, bumping into everything in her path several times before making it to the bathroom, thankfully just in time.

I waited in the living room for her to emerge, trying not to listen to the lurching going on, but that was impossible. I started to feel slightly nauseous myself after a while, being the sympathetic vomiter that I was. It lasted for about ten minutes before it became oddly quiet, I figured she'd just passed out on the bathroom floor.

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, I was going to have to pry her off the bathroom floor.

Damn it.

To my surprise I found that she wasn't in the bathroom at all. No, she was actually in my bedroom, in my bed.

Fucking fabulous!

I was left standing at my door for quite some time, very tired, very confused and at a loss of what to do. There was no way I was going to sleep in the same bed as her, I was just going to kindly tell her to get out or I'd remove her myself if she was still too juiced to hold herself upright.

"Sam?" I nudged her shoulder. "Sam?"

"Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"You're in my bed, Sam."

She kept her face buried in the pillow and mumbled something about the sofa bed feeling like you were sleeping on a sidewalk and she was more comfortable here anyway. That was pretty much the gist, I think I caught something about a purple elephant in there too, but I guessed that was complete nonsense.

I just stood over her, making odd gestures with my arms and rubbing the back of my neck with frustration and indecision. Exhaustion was taking over and I gave up trying to find a solution to the current problem. With a heavy sigh I climbed into bed and moved as far away from Sam as I possibly could. She groaned and twisted around to face me. I froze as her intense blue gaze pretty much made my balls crawl back up into my body, because even when intoxicated, I knew she could still kick my ass if she really wanted to.

"Sam. Are you going to kill me?" I tried not to make it sound too strangled, but I failed miserably.

"Why woulda kill you?" She was still slurring her words. I didn't really know how to respond to that so instead I just rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling. Sam giggled and put her head down further into the pillow and scooted closer to me. "I don hate you Freds." She whispered with her eyes closed.

This went against all the laws of nature, if it continued I was sure that the space time continuum would erupt in a brilliant display, destroying the entire universe... or something. Sure she was drunk out of her mind and probably had no idea what she was doing but Sam Puckett was practically snuggling up to me, apparently didn't hate me like I thought, and as far as I could tell she wasn't about to strangle me.

Mayday... abort, abort!

I breathed deeply and tried to think of a way to... to...

I could feel sleep slowly overtaking me as everything just kind of settled, or maybe I just started to ignore the awkwardness of the situation by giving in to my exhaustion. I was in that suspended non-sleep phase where you're not quite sure what's a dream and what's reality, when Sam stirred.

"Freddie." She paused. "Don tell Carly I got drunk." She mumbled groggily.

I kept my eyes closed and just replied in agreement with a drowsy groan.

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A/N: Review if you loved it, review if you hated it, I really don't mind. But when you review could answer me this: "Do you have any theories as to where this is going?" Yes that's right, I'm giving you an assignment. Don't ya just love it?

[BETA'd by iCarlyAngst]

Pimping shout outs: Earl of Sandwich and Axel100 your theories and reviews are legend. Please keep 'em coming!

Chapter title comes from the song 'The Chemicals Between Us' by Bush.