" 'kay, so…gathering intel is going to be a little harder than I thought."

Ever since she had promised to get more information regarding Sam and Wesley's relationship the night before, she was finding it increasingly difficult to get a moment alone with her maid-of-honor. She had originally planned to use a trip to the nearest mall as an excuse to pry a little deeper, but Dallas and Taryn invited themselves on the trip when they heard they were looking for bridesmaid dresses. While she was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was causing so much change in Sam, she new better than to broach the subject while the other girls were around. The last thing she wanted was for Sam to feel like she was being ganged up on.

Carly then came up with the idea for her and Sam to cook dinner for the house that night. Sam agreed to the idea, renewing Carly's hope. When they arrived at the cabin, however, they found Gibby in the kitchen, surrounded by mounds of dough, cheese, vegetables and various meats. He was sporting a flour-dusted apron and a self-satisfied grin.

"It's pizza night, ladies!" he declared. "You're welcome. Now, go relax and don't come in this kitchen for any reason. If you need anything, find the nearest gentleman and we'll be happy to serve you."

"Awwww," Taryn and Dallas simultaneously cooed.

"I know," he said with a smirk as he returned to his culinary duties.

"That's awesome, Gib," Sam praised. Carly nodded and smiled as she tried her best to internalize her frustration. When Taryn suggested that they change into their bathing suits and sunbathe on the back deck, Carly remained quick on her feet and invited Sam to join her on a canoe ride out on the lake. She was optimistic when Sam agreed, but once again thwarted when Wesley stopped them in their tracks on the way out to the lake. He asked what they were doing, Sam told him, then he proceeded to invite himself on their trip.

Now Carly sat in the back of the canoe, stuck out on the lake with the couple she was supposed to be investigating. As she slowly paddled in time with her two canoe mates, she struggled to hold back the annoyed groan she'd wanted to let slip all day.

"Sweetheart, your strokes have to stay in time with mine and Carly's," Wesley instructed his girlfriend, who appeared to only be a half second off with her paddle. Carly couldn't see where anything that Sam was doing made a major difference to their movement. Neither, apparently, could Sam.

"Babe, why does it matter if I'm a little off?" Sam asked with unabashed confusion. "We seem to be moving just fine, are we not?"

"Samantha, how many times do I have to explain that attention to detail is always important, inside and outside of competition?" Wesley countered, seemingly exasperated. "Precision, persistence, and perfection are what separate life's winners from its losers. I'm sure Carly would agree with that sentiment, considering her naturally competitive line of work."

"Oh, I don't know," Carly interjected nervously, continuing to keep time with her paddle. "I don't think any of that applies with a fun paddle ride."

Wesley chuckled, and Carly found herself immediately bothered by his ability to make such an innocent sound like laughing sound so condescending. She was beginning to understand Freddie's point of view when it comes to Wesley's personality. She just wished she had something a little more substantial on which to base a more solid opinion.

"Oh, Carly, what's the point of doing anything if you aren't trying to be the best at it?"

"How is it that I feel this stressed out about something that supposed to be fun?" Carly thought to herself. "Is this the type of pressure Sam has to live with? No wonder she's so thin!"

"You know, sweetheart," he continued, taking a moment to grunt as he stroked the paddle once more, "we should really think about adding rowing to your workout routine. It's great for your biceps and I've notice that your arms have lost some of its definition."

Sam gave a slight groan. "Baby, do we really need to talk about it right now?"

"I just don't think you should let this vacation cause you to lose focus-"

"Uh, this isn't just some vacation! This is my best friend's wedding!"

"HEY, IS THAT A SHARK?" Carly blurted in desperation as she pointed somewhere in the general distance. The couple stopped bickering momentarily in order to check out the direction in which Carly was pointing. After a brief moment, they both turned around with expressions of utter confusion. Carly giggled nervously. "Guess it was just a floating branch. Still, we should head back to the dock."

There was another brief pause before Wesley shook his head and positioned his paddle in order to head back to land, all the while mumbling something about "shark hallucinations." Carly was well aware of how crazy she looked in that moment, but she figured that anything would be better than being stuck on the world's most awkward canoe ride. Much to her dismay, the trip back was just as uncomfortable.

"So, you ladies went shopping today?" Wesley inquired to both female passengers.

"We did," Carly replied, "and we found the most beautiful maid-of-honor dress for Sam! She looks incredible."

"I'm sure she does," the man said with the utmost confidence. "I just hope that you ladies settled upon a dress that was appropriate."

Sam stopped paddling in order to regard her boyfriend with an expression of total disbelief.

"What exactly do you think we came back with? A thong and some nipple pasties?"

"Samantha, don't be ridiculous!" Wesley's voice was raised a little higher than necessary, in Carly's opinion, considering that he was the one that questioned their judgment. "I just hope that you haven't gotten caught up in the whole… 'unconventional atmosphere' surrounding the wedding," he explained, complete with air quotes. "Just because Carly and Freddie are choosing to do things outside the box, doesn't give any of you ladies an excuse to be anything less than classy."

"Hey!" Carly piped in, offended. "Just because Freddie and I are doing things a little differently, doesn't make our wedding any less classy!"

"Of course not, Carly," Wesley sighed, apparently exhausted between the two women. "I'm just worried that Samantha may have been influenced by the other girls to buy something a little racy and may not have taken into account that we would be amongst other men this week."

Carly laughed curtly. "Spencer and Gibby are hardly men, Wesley. Not men you should be worried about, at least."

"Well, in any case, propriety is propriety. I just don't want my lady embarrassing herself nor me, that's all."

Carly continued to paddle as she looked desperately towards Sam. The girl she grew up with would have taken this opportunity to verbally rip into any man who tried to tell her how she should dress or act. She might have even thrown him from the boat. For once, Carly was hoping to see a glimmer of the temperamental, irrational, violent fiery force that used to come so naturally.

Now, all she saw was young woman whose fire had been temporarily doused…or she at least hoped it was temporary. Carly especially disliked the way Sam couldn't quite meet her eye-to-eye, as if she knew she was holding back. She decided not to challenge Wesley any further for fear of overstepping her boundaries, even though it was becoming increasingly clearer that he was the driving force behind Sam's sudden loss in spirit. Instead, they all rowed to shore in pregnant silence.

"So how am I going to tell Freddie that he was right without having to suffer through his stupid 'I'm So Right' dance," Carly thought to herself, already visualizing his taunting pelvic thrusts and alternating fist pumps. The brunette contemplated the best approach throughout their seemingly lengthy return to the dock.

"I seriously can't get over how amazing this weather is," Dallas gushed as Jax reached over Taryn and passed her the vegetable pizza. She grabbed a slice and placed the remaining pie at the end of the oversized picnic table. Everyone was seated on the deck outside while enjoying Gibby's hard work. Carly scanned the table in search of the seafood pizza, hoping to get a second slice before it disappeared for good.

"It's, like, ideal running weather!" Dallas continued.

"Yeah, and the hills around here would make for a pretty good workout," Gibby added, leaning forward in order to speak to Dallas, as well as to grab one of the bowls of salad.

"Right?" Dallas agreed. She took a small bite of her slice, then turned to Taryn. "Hey, Tar, do you wanna go for a run tomorrow morning? Bright and early. You know the drill."

Taryn stilled for a moment, her slice of pepperoni pizza inches from her mouth as her eyes shifted just slightly. "Uhhh, you know, Dal, I think I left my shoes at home."

Dallas simply shook her eyes. "You didn't. I saw them by your door just before we left your house and grabbed them for you. They should be in the back seat."

Carly thought she saw Jax stifle a laugh, but she wasn't sure.

"Well, I don't think I brought any workout close with me, so…" Taryn trailed off. Carly turned more fully towards Taryn. What was she hiding?

"No worries!" Dallas replied cheerfully. "I have plenty of clothes you can borrow. You know I always over-pack, girl!"

Jax was much less successful in holding back his laughter this time around and let out a somewhat muffled snicker. This earned him a furtive glare from his wife and a questioning glance from the rest of the table.

"Honey, you might as well just tell her," Jax reasoned firmly.

Dallas set her crust on the plate and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and fixing the cryptic couple with an expectant expression.

"Tell me what?"

"It's nothing," Taryn rushed to deny.

Jax groaned and rolled his eyes. "Oh, c'mon this is - ergh! Look, Dallas, Taryn doesn't want to work out with you anymore."

Dallas gasped dramatically as Taryn turned to punch her husband in the arm.

"Dammit, Jax!" she cried.

"H'oh boy," Freddie mumbled under his breath next to Carly as he reached for the salad bowl. Spencer was sitting next to him at the head of the table with wide eyes. Carly turned to him and shared a brief amused look before returning to scene unfolding before everyone's eyes.

"Taryn, what is he talking about?" Dallas pointed at Jax as she interrogated her friend.

"Look, sweetie, it's not that I don't want to 'work out with you anymore,' per say," Taryn attempted to explain with a tender tone, "I just…you know, when we go running together-"

"Taryn says you're real mean," Jax interjected before taking another bite of his meaty pizza. "Yelling and everything."

"Wow, Jax, do you, like, EVER want to have sex again?" Taryn exploded. As Carly tried to suppress the laugh that threatened to boil over, Freddie coughed in order to cover up his own impending laughter.

"Wha- I am NOT mean!" Dallas shrieked.

Taryn sighed. "It's just that…when I start to get tired and slow down, you tend to get a little…intense." She paused. "Really intense. The last time we went running you began resorting to name-calling. What was it that you called me?" Taryn took a moment to think, then snapped her fingers when she remembered. "A-ha! 'Molasses Ass!' You called me 'Molasses Ass!'"

Spencer let out a loud snort of laughter, which caused the rest of the group to look in his direction. Embarrassed, he quickly stood up.

"Hey!" he said with a little too much enthusiasm. "Who wants a beer?" Before waiting for anyone to answer, he quickly disappeared into the house. Everyone's attention quickly returned to Dallas and Taryn.

"Look," Taryn began firmly. "All I'm saying is that you take your workouts really seriously and you turn into a drill sergeant because of it."

"Yeah, it's kind of true, Dal," Sam added from Carly's left. Sam opened her bottle of diet Peppy Cola. "You did used to get kind of scary in the gym during weight-lifting. I think I even saw your eyes glow red one time."

"I'm just trying to inspire you!" Dallas exclaimed, desperate for her friends to see her point of view.

"Makes sense to me," Wesley quipped with a shrug. Carly looked to her left side at Sam, who said nothing and continued to sip her soda. Carly wondered for a second if Wesley acted like Dallas when he and Sam worked out together. The thought alone made her want to slap him. She didn't dare look in Freddie's direction, however, in fear of possibly encouraging him to say something back.

"Dal, I really don't do well with that kind of inspiration. I hated it at Tifton and I can't handle it now. I didn't really plan on doing too much exercise on my vacation, anyways."

Dallas let out a defeated exhale. "Well, this sucks! I can't go running by myself! What if I get snatched?"

Gibby shrugged then leaned forward once again to speak to Dallas. "I can go running with you."

Dallas perked up a little. "Really?"

"Sure!" Gibby replied. "I've been slacking lately on my cardio, so I could use a run. Heck, I don't even mind a little yelling and some creative name-calling. It might just get me up some of those hills a little quicker."

Dallas gave him a small smile. "Cool. Thanks, Gibby!"

"See?" Carly blurted out, happy to see some resolution, though she wouldn't deny being fully entertained by their display. "Everyone's happy!"

Dallas nodded, then turned to Taryn with an apologetic expression. "Sorry for getting all 'psycho trainer' on your ass, Tar."

"Awwww, it's okay, boo!" Taryn accepted graciously before hugging her friend. Jax and Freddie applauded in jest and the rest of the table laughed. Carly offered to take some of the empty pizza plates off the table to allow everyone a little more elbow room. Grabbing the nearest ones, she stood and made her way into the house. She found Spencer deep in refrigerator.

"We're almost out of beer and bottled water, so I'm going to make a quick run around the corner," Spencer explained without even turning around to see who entered the house. He stood upright, closed the door, then turned around and nodded his head towards the back door. "Are they still at it?"

"Nope, they resolved it," Carly said as she went over to the sink to deposit the dirty dishes. "Gibby's even gonna go jogging with Dallas so she doesn't have to go alone!"

"Nice," he replied. "Didn't mean to laugh out there, but…c'mon 'Molasses Ass?' Genius!"

Carly couldn't help but laugh along with her brother as Freddie entered the kitchen with more dishes. "Hey, thought you might need some help. Dishes between nine people pile up quick."

"Thanks, Freddie. Bring it over here, I think I'm going to wash them now before we forget."

"You wash, I'll dry," Freddie suggested, placing the dining ware in the basin.

"Alright, guys, I'll be back soon," Spencer called out over his shoulder as he exited. Carly started to run the faucet while Freddie looked around for a dish towel.

"How was your day with the girls?" Freddie asked. Carly thought for a moment before answering.

"Interesting."

" 'Interesting?'" Freddie echoed. "How so? Did you get to talk to Sam?"

"Not really," Carly answered with a disappointed tone. "We kept getting interrupted."

"By who? Wesley?"

At the mention of Wesley's name, Carly's eye gave an involuntary twitch. She couldn't remember when she developed this little tick, but it seemed to happen whenever she was hiding something wanted to desperately talk about, or at the mention of someone she truly didn't like.

The slight eye spasm, though small, was not lost on Freddie. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and gestured towards her. "Your eye twitched."

"Huh-what? No, it didn't," she rambled. Freddie wasn't convinced.

"You know, I haven't seen you twitch like that in years, when I was dating Esther."

That name elicited another eye twitch, and Carly inwardly cursed her body for not allowing her to lie like a normal person. Freddie's eyes widened as he reached an epiphany.

"You hate Wesley!" he exclaimed. "I knew it! You hate Wesley!"

"SHHHH!" Carly hissed, afraid that his outburst could have been overheard by the remaining guests on the deck. Carly turned off the faucet and Freddie stepped closer so he could talk more freely at a lower decibel.

"You found out something, didn't you?" he interrogated. "He's a womanizer? A control freak? He's not cheating on her, is he?"

"No!" Carly replied. "At least I don't think he is. I don't know. Like I said, I didn't really get a chance to talk to Sam alone. The last time I tried was when I asked Sam if she wanted to take a ride in the canoe and Wesley ended up tagging along."

"Hmph," Freddie grunted. "Did he regale you with tales of his heroic Crew days or did he find some other way to stroke his own ego?"

Carly smirked. "No, he didn't quite do any of that. I mean, he wasn't overtly evil or anything, he was just kind of…condescending and yeah, a little controlling about her maid-of-honor dress - which he hadn't even seen yet! - and he was overly competitive in situations that didn't really call for it. I just don't get what Sam sees in him, really! She would have wedgie-bounced a guy like that in high school."

"You see?" Freddie urged. "That's what I've been saying! It's obvious he's a tool. I don't get why she keeps him around."

"I'm still trying to figure that out,. There has to be something."

Freddie considered this for a moment, then made eye contact with Carly. She noticed a mischievous glint in his eye.

"So the important point we should take away from this story," he reasoned seriously, "is that I was right."

"Oh, great," Carly though with a roll of her eyes. "Freddie, I don't know if that's the most important thing -"

"No, I beg to differ," Freddie interrupted. "I was right from the beginning." Freddie's hips slowly began to stir and a confident smirk spread across his face.

"Oh, no," Carly moaned. "Seriously, I'm not about to admit you were right so there's no need for the dance."

Freddie's slow gyrations turned into full-blown pelvic thrusts as his right fist balled, seemingly on its own accord.

"Sorry, sweetheart, this train has already pulled out of the station," Freddie advised her in almost a sing-song voice. He began to pump his fist in time with his thrusting while humming a nondescript, upbeat tune.

"Who was right! I WAS RIGHT!" Freddie chanted. "I was, I was, I was right!"

"I hate this," Carly stated simply, though her voice held an air of laughter. Carly may have dreaded having to endure his silly dance, but she wasn't about to deny how adorable he looked. Truth be told: the song was catchy.

"Freddie B. was oh-so right! Na na na na, I WAS RIGHT!"

"Okay, I get it!" Carly yelled over his singing.

Carly heard the faint click of the door opening just before Gibby appeared with plate of bare crust and an empty cup. Confused, Gibby nodded his head toward his dancing friend.

"Why's Freddie doing his 'I'm So Right' dance?"

Carly awoke the next morning to the soft light of an early morning sunset. Groggy, she turned her head toward her fiancé, who was still dead to the world. She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and lightly rubbed his arm, which was snugly wrapped around her waist. She quietly extracted herself from his grip, trying her hardest not to wake him up. Once she was sure Freddie was still asleep, she gently pushed herself off of the bed and walked toward the bathroom.

Before she could enter the doorway, Carly heard something that sounded like two voices from downstairs. They were loud for just a brief moment, then they were gone in an instant. Curious, Carly slowly walked closer to the door and pressed her ear against it. The voices were low, yet animated. Carly opened the door and crept down the hallway to the top of the stair, slowly descending in order to make sure they didn't creak.

As she neared the final stretch of steps that lead to the landing, the voices became much clearer. Carly wanted to poke her head around the corner for a better view, but she didn't want to get caught eavesdropping. Besides, she was already aware of the owners of both voices.

"- know why you wouldn't want to jump on such an amazing opportunity, Samantha," Wesley hissed. Carly could tell he was struggling to keep his voice low, but would rather do so than wake up the rest of the house.

"Seriously, Wes, why do you care so much about this?" Sam countered. "It's just a stupid showcase."

"That 'stupid showcase' could catapult your career, with the proper networking and focus. This could make turn you into a principal dancer in one of the finest ballet companies in the country."

"Oh, really?" Sam pressed. "And what if that's not what I want?"

At this, Wesley laughed mirthlessly. "How could you not want this? What exactly do you have going for you right now? A lousy theme park show?"

"Hey, I work hard in that show and it may not be the best, but it's my own deal, alright?" Sam was not bothering to keep her voice in check.

"Lower your voice," Wesley commanded coolly. "Sam, let's get real here. You're not the best dancer there is. You're a pretty girl, obviously, but there are dancers out there - a ton of them - who are more talented, more stunning, and more knowledgeable of the craft than you are and they're going to beat you out of every opportunity there is if you don't have the drive to go for it! Honestly, what would you do without me?"

There was an intense silence before Sam answered.

"Look," she began, "I don't want to pick up my entire life and move to New York to dance, when I'm perfectly happy dancing in Florida -"

"You're not happy, you're complacent," Wesley swiftly interrupted.

"Who the hell are you to tell me how I feel?" Sam asked in an incredulous tone.

"A man who seems to know what's best for you better than you do! You're being an idiot, as usual, and for some reason I seem continue to waste my energy on you. Samantha, do you know why I chose you over the scores of women dying to be with me?"

Carly fought her repulsion and remained still on the step, though she was seething.

"No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me," Sam deadpanned.

"I stay with you," Wesley continued, "because I see something special in you, even if you don't. You've got it, you've just got to stop being lazy and go for it. Don't make me regret choosing you."

Sam didn't answer right away and Wesley didn't wait for a response.

"I'm going to go for a run. We'll talk more when I get back."

After the sound of footsteps and the heavy click of the front door, Carly rushed down the remaining steps. She found Sam standing by the door in her pajamas. She turned to Carly, her expression unreadable.

"'Mornin' Carls," she greeted, trying to sound casual.

"Sam, what was that all about?" Carly demanded, unwilling to play along.

"What are you talking about? What was what about?"

"Sam, I heard everything!" Carly exclaimed. "Why do you let him talk to you like that?"

Sam groaned in frustration. "Carly, not right now, alright?"

"Okay, then when, Sam? When he breaks down your spirit entirely? When he cheats on you with someone more 'stunning' and more 'knowledgeable?' Come on, what's the deal? Why are you with him?"

"Look, you're making a huge deal out of all of this!" Sam bellowed, flailing her arms. "You're concerned for no reason!"

Carly stepped closer to the agitated blonde with wide eyes. "Of course, I'm concerned and trust me, I'm not the only one! You show up rail thin and totally zombie-like, allowing this jerk to control your life, and you haven't even threatened to hit the guy once! No duh, I'm concerned!"

Sam took a step forward. "This isn't concern, Carly! This is you butting your nose into someone else's business other than your own and believing that you know better than everyone else, as usual!"

Carly quirked her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I'm sure you know a lot about that, considering that your boyfriend butts in on your affairs all the time, it seems!"

"How dare you pass judgment when this is the most time you've spent with him in the YEARS that I've been with him!" Carly guessed that the house was awake by now, since neither of them were trying to keep their voice low. "Newsflash: Carly Shay's opinion is not the end-all, be-all when it comes to relationships. It took you over a decade to find your soul mate, even though he was right under your nose the entire time. Sorry, but maybe you aren't the most credible source for relationship advice."

Carly was outraged. "How dare you throw that in my face when all I'm doing is trying to help you?"

"Well, thank you so much, but you can keep your damn help and worry about your own relationship!"

With that, Sam stalked over to the key rack by the door, hastily grabbed a set of keys and stomped out of the house, slamming the door in her wake.

A/N: I hope everyone is doing well! And I want to extend a huge "THANK YOU" to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I wanted to reply personally to all of you, but time is making a fool of me, once again. Just know that I appreciate your kind words and I love you all for all the support you've been giving me!

I'm excited about the next few chapters of the story! Just be patient with me. I promise I'll get them out as soon as I can!

Don't be afraid to drop a line and keep those story suggestions coming! I still want to know which ones I should be reading!

Love you all and Hollaatchyagirl,

Phunky