Chapter 10: You're the Girl in This

Disclaimer: Romeo: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon who is already sick and pale with grief- Julie: Yeah, yeah, that's cute. Do you own iCarly? Romeo: Alas, fairest of maidens, all that I own is the bird of my heart that- Julie: That's nice. You keep that. Come see me when you get some scratch. *slams shutters*

Freddie got to the eighth floor, stumbled into the apartment, and locked the door. He put a chair in front of the door, although he knew that, since Sam had already shown she could now get through the locks, the chair wasn't likely to stop her. He barely glanced at the note from his mom that stated she had gotten a ride from a co-worker, but that she would need him to pick her up. He put his phone on vibrate and set his alarm clock, so that he would be able to wake up in time to go to the new steak restaurant with Sam.

He plopped on the bed in the clothes he wore and was asleep within a minute.

His dreams were strange at first, understandable after the night he had. At one point, he found himself swimming through a sea of penises and vaginas, and he knew somehow he would not make it to the other side until he had connected them all in the correct pattern. He had a flowchart that told him what to do, but they had taken it from him before they threw him in. A shirtless and perhaps nude Gibby waved to him from the other side, then gave him a big thumbs-up. He could not tell if Gibby was nude, because he was standing behind a naked girl whose buttocks seemed to bounce to the rhythm of an Adele song.

There were other strange things, including at one point Gibby's cousin hitting a girl on the forehead with his penis, but it wasn't actually a penis, but a long, slick anchovy. All his dreams eventually faded until one was left.

"Freddie, that was amazing."

They are on his bed, the sheets pushed to the floor. Their legs are entangled, and he can feel the heat of her on his thigh. He rolls off her.

"I just want you to be happy, Sam."

She lays on top of him. "I'm glad we did this, Freddie, but we didn't need to have sex for you to make me happy."

He looks at her. "What are you saying, Sam?"

"That I love you, Freddie. I've always loved you. I just could never find a way to tell you. I love you."

"I love you, too, Sam. I just can't

believe you said it." He sat up and looked around. "Damn it."

He looked at the clock. It was half an hour until his alarm clock was supposed to go off. That gave him some extra time, so that was good. He took out the notes he had written at Gibby's and typed them up in Endylsian and for added security, encrypted them, and added two-layer password protection.

Where u at? he texted Sam.

Home. pick me up in 90?

I'll be there. That gave him some time. He removed the bag from the paper shredder and put a new bag in. Then he put the notebook paper through the shredder. It was a crosscut shredder, so all that was left was tiny particles. Yet, he still took that bag and dumped it into the toilet. He flushed multiple times and inspected in and around the bowl to ensure there were no pieces. With his mother, you never knew. He put the old bag back in the paper shredder. He took a shower and dressed.

Freddie was at Sam's house five minutes before he was supposed to be. His mother had taught him that people should always be punctual.

"Dude, you're early," she said when she opened the door. "Hold on." She gestured for him to sit down on the couch, but he remembered what she had said the last time he had been there, so he just stood in the living room. Sam went to her bedroom. Freddie looked around. If possible, the room was messier.

"Did your mom ever come back?" he called.

"Yeah, for a little bit, but she's back in Vegas again."

"Bingo player?" he asked, as Sam came out of her room.

"No. Blackjack dealer."

"Oh."

"Now let's go eat some steak."

The restaurant was all wooden tables and sawdust on the floor. Freddie made a note to himself to clean the bottom of his shoes before he walked into the apartment. He didn't need his mother freaking out about him being in unsanitary environments.

When the waitress came to them, Sam ordered the 72 ounce steak, and Freddie ordered an eight ounce sirloin.

"You want the eight-ouncer and you want the Behemoth?"

"Yep," Sam said happily.

"You realize if you don't finish it within an hour, you have to pay for it."

"I'm not paying. He is. And he's not gonna have to pay for that." Sam shooed the waitress away. "Can you believe she had no faith in me?"

"She just doesn't know your awesomeness, Sam."

"She will."

As they waited for their food to come, they talked some about school and iCarly. Sam had plenty of ideas for the show, most of which involved a fair amount of pain for either Lewbert or Gibby. None of them involved hurting Freddie, which was a change, but not one he was willing to point out, unless she decided to remedy the mistake.

"So you spent the night at Gibby's. Does he have like a collection of squirrel heads he keeps under his bed?"

"Gibby's a good guy, Sam," Freddie protested, while trying not to think about what Gibby did have under his bed.

"Whatever. I couldn't imagine doing a school project with him. So what was-"

"Steak!" Thank you, Freddie thought.

The waitress put down a normal-sized plate in front of Freddie, with his eight-ounce sirloin and a baked potato. She put a bowl of rolls in the middle of the table. Two men put down Sam's steak in front of her. It was on a plate roughly four times the size of Freddie's, and the steak still was larger than the plate. The waitress put a timer on the table.

"Remember, you have to finish within sixty minutes, or you have to pay for it." She pointed at Freddie.

Sam looked down at her plate and rubbed her hands. "Holy cow." Freddie groaned. "Come on, that was good." She looked at his plate and then back at her plate. "You really are the girl in this relationship, Freddie. You might as well have ordered a salad with light dressing." She shrugged and took her knife and fork, and started her first slice.

Freddie took his own knife and fork, but didn't start yet. He looked at her, concentrating on defeating the Behemoth. You really are the girl in this relationship. It sounded like the typical Puckett insult, but the word choice...well, establishing gender roles sort of indicated a relationship that was more than just friends. You're just reading into everything because of the dream, he thought. Best not to think about it, at least not right now.

There were still twenty minutes left when Sam took her last bite. Freddie was thankful, for his wallet's sake.

"How did you-" The waitress looked at Sam. "You're so tiny. There's no way you could do that."

"Sure, she can. She's Sam," Freddie said. Sam grinned at him. The waitress rolled her eyes and picked up the plate. She reached to take the bowl of rolls.

"Not done with them yet," Sam said, pulling the bowl back. The waitress walked away, shaking her head.

After Freddie paid for his meal, they went to the car. Sam patted her stomach. "Okay, maybe I should have taken that extra twenty minutes and only had three rolls."

"Are you okay, Sam?"

"Yeah, just got to let my stomach settle for a while."

"Okay." Freddie started driving. Instead of heading towards Sam's house, he took a different route.

"Where we headed, Freddo?"

"Figured I'd give your stomach time to recuperate. Want to hit Fair Days?" Sam shrugged her shoulders.

Fair Days was an annual event at Wilson Park. It wasn't really a fair or a carnival. There weren't very many rides, and most of them were tame even for young children. But there were performers throughout the park, and activities like face painting and wood-carving. Freddie had gone to it at least once every year, although he hadn't participated in anything for three or four years. He just liked walking around and watching the people.

He got out of the car when they got there. He looked back and saw that Sam was still in the car. Does she want me to open the door for her? That didn't seem like Sam. He started to her side, anyway, and he saw her open her mouth, and he heard the belch, long and loud, even from outside the car.

She got out. "Better," she said.

"Want a breath mint?" Freddie asked, holding out the roll to her. She took one and laughed.

They walked along slowly, not really saying much. They stopped so a group of young children, probably around eight-years-old or so and all with painted faces, could run by them. A herd of parents followed behind.

"Oh, I want to watch this," Sam said. Freddie looked.

"A mime? Really? I didn't think you would like mimes."

"I don't," she said and smirked. The mime appeared to be pushing at something. Trapped in a box, Freddie thought. "You know there's nothing there, right?" Sam said. "You could just walk out." The mime's eyes flicked to her, but he continued his struggles. At the moment, Freddie and Sam were the only ones watching him.

"I bet your mom's real proud of you," Sam said.

"Sam," Freddie hissed. The look the mime gave was definitely longer this time.

"If you were really good, you could make me believe you have a viable future," Sam said. The mime stopped and stood looking at Sam, hands on his hips.

"Sorry," Freddie said and grabbed Sam by the hand, pulling her away.

"Bye, mime," Sam said, waving with her other hand.

"What was that about, Sam?"

"Eh. I just really hate mimes." Freddie looked back, and saw that the mime was now apparently hanging from an invisible noose. That's actually pretty good...if a little disturbing. The mime saw Freddie looking and tipped his hat to him. Freddie gave him a small nod.

"Thanks for the steak, Freddie. That was actually pretty delicious."

"I still can't believe you ate the whole thing. If I did that, I wouldn't eat again for a week."

Well, you're not Sam," she said.

"Of course not, there can only be the original," Freddie agreed. "Hey, look, fireworks." He pointed up, and they stood there for a while, watching. Sam leaned slightly against his arm.

"You ready to go?" he asked, when the fireworks had stopped.

"Yeah." Throughout the fireworks, they had fallen into a silence, but unlike other silences, for example the one he shared with Michelle in the hall before she asked him out, he was completely comfortable with it.

They separated and got on their sides of the car. Freddie looked at Sam, who returned a light smile. He had held her hand ever since the mime, and she never commented on it or tried to pull away. He began to say something about it, but instead he started the car.

At her house, he got out and walked with her.

"You know, I can make it inside myself, Freddie." She sounded amused.

"The streets lurk with danger," he said.

"Oh, well, then it's good I got you here to protect me, being the dainty damsel I am," she said, teasingly.

"Just figured the steak might have slowed you down, dulled your reflexes," he said.

"Well, then, this is very considerate of you." Freddie looked at her, and she stared back. At the door, she asked, "did you want to come in?"

"Sure," he said.

"You want something to drink?" she asked.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my Sam?" he asked. He came close to her, as if to see where his friend had disappeared.

She smirked. "I was just gonna say if you want something to drink, get it your damn self."

"It's a kind offer, but I'm not thirsty at the moment." He moved to her and put his hands on the side of her face, cupping his hands on her cheeks and curling his fingers under her ears, and kissed her. His kiss was forceful, almost predatory, but she returned it with the same intensity. Freddie tried to recall what he had written, but all thought had left and he could only concentrate on her lips that accepted his so readily, her tongue meeting his, and her taste of steak and breath mint and strawberry lip gloss. He slid his hands down her back and squeezed her ass. She moved her arms under his and cupped the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair.

Freddie bent down and picked her up, breaking the kiss. He carried her, bridal-style, to her bedroom. After the films the night before, his dream about her, and spending time with her, he wanted nothing more than to be inside her, to feel her warm wetness wrapped around his cock, but that was not his goal tonight. She had made him have an orgasm, and he wanted to return the favor.

He set her on the bed, and she looked at him with a hungry look in her eyes. He got on the bed with her, next to her, and continued the kisses. He generally preferred the softer, slower, gentler kisses with her that would build to a crescendo, but not this time. Although Sam seemed to prefer when he was gentle with his touch, she eagerly returned this kiss. He cupped her breast through her shirt, then moved his hand down her stomach, letting it stray for a moment under her shirt and lightly stroking her abdomen.

He took his lips from hers and moved to the side of her throat. He lightly sucked, applying pressure, but not enough to leave a mark.

"Oh, Freddie," she whispered.

He moved his hand from her stomach and down to her jeans. He put gentle pressure on her mound with his palm and curled his fingers in a come-hither gesture at the seam in her jeans, slowly letting his fingers tense and relax against her. He felt the vibration of her moan from her throat, and she pushed against his hand.

He took his hand away and smiled at Sam's disappointed growl. He got off the bed and stood near the end of the bed. She looked at him. He took one of her shoes and flipped it off, keeping his eyes locked on her the entire time. Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing. He took the other shoe off, and then he slowly pulled her socks off. He moved to the middle of the bed and unbuttoned her jeans. He unzipped them, letting his pinky finger put pressure on her as he did so. She pushed against it. Grabbing her jeans at her hips and making sure to not take her underpants down, he slowly pulled her jeans down to her knees. When they were there, he went back down near her feet and pulled her jeans off. He put his hand on her ankle and ran it up the length of her calf. Once he got to her knee, he moved his hand to the inside of her thigh and applied gentle pressure with his fingertips as he moved it up to the end of her boxer shorts.

Freddie moved his hands back up to her hips and grasped her boxer shorts. He looked to her to see if she would protest, but she didn't. He pulled them down slowly. After he removed them, Freddie ran his hands on her thighs. Sam had a soft triangular patch of blond pubic hair, and he Freddie lightly touched it with the tips of his fingers, smiling when he saw Sam's body shiver.

He lay back down on the bed with her and kissed her lips again. He again cupped her breast through her shirt and then let his hand go back down to her stomach. He smiled against her when she grunted. He knew it was dangerous to tease Sam, but this was his tag, and he was determined to do things his way.

He moved his hand lightly on her pubic mound, but when she pushed up to him, he moved his hand along her thigh, then slowly slid it along the inside, moving it up near her pussy, close enough that he could nearly touch it, and then he moved his fingers up the crease of her thigh and then over her pubic mound again. He would do the same thing on her other side, all while kissing her lips and her neck. He wanted to touch her there, but he also wanted her to want it, too.

At one point, she reached down and tried to grab his hand, but he moved it away. She pulled from his kiss.

"Damn it, Freddie, if you don't touch me, I'm going to kill you."

"Touch you where, Sam?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know where, Freddie."

"No, Tell me."

"Freddie."

"I want you to say it." He smiled at her.

She grabbed his hair with her fingers and pulled hard. It was painful, and yet it only aroused him more. "I want you. To touch. My pussy." He gave her a kiss on the lips and put his hand between her thighs and caressed her outer lips with his fingers. She immediately let go of his hair and threw her head back. "Oh."

He stroked her outer lips, feeling the wetness of her on his fingers. He resumed kissing her neck. He added a second finger to the edge of her pussy lips and stroked up and down, making sure not to penetrate her. Once he had lubricated his fingers well, he moved his hand up under her hood and gently caressed in circular motions, until he felt the small button that was her clitoris. She gasped and grabbed his wrist, as if she were afraid he would move his hand away.

He continued the circular motion on her clit. He was no longer kissing her; it was impossible to do anyway, as the way her body shivered made keeping up with her mouth difficult. He wanted to watch her, anyway. He applied more pressure and watched her response. She still showed pleasure, but it seemed she liked the gentle touch with all aspects, and he decreased his pressure.

"Freddie?" she moaned.

"Yes," he said, watching her push herself against him.

"Put your finger inside me," she said.

He stopped, pulling his hand up. "What? Won't that, like, hurt you?"

"I've done it before," she said.

"Really?" She rolled her eyes.

"Guys aren't the only ones who experiment, you know?" she said, glaring at him.

"Sorry," he said. He started to move his hand back down to her, but he changed his mind. He got up and positioned himself on top of the bed, kneeling between her thighs.

"Freddie, no."

"What, Sam? I want to see you. You watched me." He made no move to do anything. If she insisted, he would go back to where he had been.

She nodded. He caressed her thighs. He moved an index finger along her pussy lips, letting her lubricate him again. He slowly pushed inside her, allowing his finger to go in up to his first knuckle. He moved his finger back and forth slowly, barely allowing penetration. Sam reached down and pulled on his hand, forcing his finger inside her all the way. She moaned. Freddie looked at her face. Her eyes were closed. She was definitely not showing any pain. Getting over his fear of harming her, he pushed inside her rhythmically.

He took the thumb of his other hand and let it slip inside her, lubricating it well. When he felt it was sufficient, he moved the thumb up and encircled her clitoris with it, lightly stroking it.

"Oh, god, Freddie. That feels good." He watched her, fascinated. She was pushing her hips down, meeting each stroke of his finger. He put his middle finger forth and let it get lubricated with her juices, and then he slipped it inside her, too. Little cries came from Sam, as she thrust harder onto his fingers. Freddie slowly circled her clit with his thumb, trying to maintain that rhythm while he also used his fingers inside her. He hooked them up slowly, attempting to find Sam's G-spot. She cried out. Her legs kicked out, and Freddie moved closer to her, so that she wouldn't kick him. He massaged with the tips of his fingers as he thrust inside her. He tried to maintain the rhythm of his thumb, knowing if something didn't happen soon he would be unable to keep up.

Luckily for him, something did happen. Sam lifted her hips off the bed, pushing into his every stroke. "Freddie, Freddie, Freddie. Oh, shit, I'm gonna cum." Sam grabbed his hand and held it in place, and then she screamed as her legs shot out. What Sam did seemed almost like a seizure, and he had a fleeting fear that he had somehow broken her, but the look on her face told him differently. Finally, her scream stopped, while Freddie thought, well, it's a good thing her mom wasn't home. I hope the neighbors don't call the cops.

He moved his fingers slightly inside her, and a spasm seemed to rush through her body. She squeezed his wrist.

"Don't. Move." He was still as possible. Her eyes were still closed, and there was a large red patch on her throat that appeared to go down into her T-shirt.

After a moment, Sam said, "Take your fingers out. Slowly." He did so, noting that her body shivered a little when he did so.

"Sorry," she said. "Sensitive."

"Not a problem," Freddie said. Sorry? That was amazing, he thought. He got up and lay down next to her, and she curled up to him with her arm across his stomach and her head on his chest. She put her thigh on top of him, and he could still feel small trembles coming from her.

"Thank you, Freddie," she said. He looked at her; she still had her eyes closed. She looked peaceful.

"I'm here to serve," he said.

"Well, good job," she said, and then she giggled.

She turned over, so that she was laying on her stomach. She opened her eyes finally and looked at him, smiling. He looked down at the soft curve of her ass, then looked back at her. She smirked. "Are you checking out my ass, Benson?"

He shrugged. He turned on his side and cupped one of her buttocks. "I was. It's cute."

"Cute? Just cute? My ass is terrific."

"It is," he agreed. "Doesn't it suck when somebody calls something of yours that is magnificent 'cute'?"

She blew a raspberry at him. "Ha. You think my ass is magnificent. And you should be happy that I think your little pal is cute. Most girls at school can't talk about them without saying how gross-looking they are."

Freddie had several things to ponder. "Okay, one, stop saying 'little'. Seriously, I'm gonna get a complex." Sam grinned and held her hands far apart and whispered, 'huge'. Freddie blushed. "And, second, you girls talk about that sort of stuff?"

"What, you thought guys were the only ones who talked about stuff?"

"Well, not really. Sort of. I mean, I've heard you and Carly talk about some stuff, but you never really got too graphic, because you...uh-"

"We're both virgins?"

Freddie shrugged. "I guess. It's just weird hearing that type of stuff. Or that you masturbate."

Sam blushed. "Freddie."

"What? I think it's 'cute'." She punched his arm lightly. "Okay, I think it's hot. Do you...uh, react that same way every time you do it."

Her blush deepened. "Oh, like I need Long-Shot Freddie to talk about how I orgasm." He laughed. "And, no, I don't. So, congrats, Freddie, you're the man."

"Yeah, I am," he said, with an exaggerated deep voice, and she laughed.

"Are you gonna stay?" she asked, quietly. He looked at the clock. His mom's shift ended in a little more than an hour.

"I can't. I have to pick my mom up from work."

"Oh." She looked like she wanted to say something, but she remained silent.

"Sam?"

"What?"

"I really had fun tonight."

She smirked. "Oh, yeah, Freddie Benson gets to play with his first pussy, and he had fun. Big surprise."

"Sam." She cast her eyes down. "I mean it. I had fun all night. Not even counting the fact I made you cum like a madwoman."

Sam's eyes shot up at him. He raised his eyebrows. "You jerk! Think you're such a stud now."

"Aren't I?" he asked, smiling.

She returned his smile. "Kiss my ass, nub."

He shrugged and bent down and placed a soft kiss her buttock. He got up. He walked to the door and turned around, looking at her entire body. She looked back at him, her face on her folded arms, her blond her spilled around her, the pale legs, her bare ass. He thought it was maybe a good thing that he had to pick up his mother, because he felt that if he stayed, he might just tell her. That this was never really a game to him, that he loved her, that he wanted her to love him in return.

"Hey, Sam."

"Yeah, Freddie?" She looked at him, open, innocent eyes. Chicken, he thought.

"Tag, you're it."

She nodded. "Good night, Freddie."

"I'll see you."

And she smiled that deadly, wonderful, beautiful Puckett smile. "Oh, you won't. Not until it's too late, and then you're mine, Benson."

A/N:

Thanks for reviews from: LiTtLe-MiSs...SeDdIe, Jarik Kiray, jhulkmn09, twelvex, pos, PakRat36, MissSeddie, popcorn1001, Vetiver, CrystalKR1, SeddieBenett, Princess Starlight, axel100, Cheruth, mamaluvsangst, Moviepal, maxiefae, jamiewalsh, Urias, clarksonfan, jewdork, mnm marshall, isinktohearts, and .

Jarik Kiray: Gibby will make a reappearance in the next chapter, but obviously I don't see quite another conversation like the one he and Freddie had, although I wish I had an excuse to write it, because it was so much fun to do. And apparently, I have quite a German fan base. Guten Morgen.

jhulkmn08: I think I'm going to ruin Red Rover, Red Rover, send Freddie right over for everybody next.

popcorn1001: That and Gibby trying to get Freddie to talk dirty were my two favorite parts of that chapter to write. Actually, the entire chapter was fun to write. I just love Gibby talking with no filter and Freddie's exasperation.

twelvex: No, they shared turns. The ones that happened after Sam was watching movies with Carly were essentially discarded, because they weren't within the nature of the game (or you could say that, even though Sam forced Freddie's hand, literally, that it qualified as his turn). And I didn't go fully into some of their turns, because it wasn't necessary (except for me mentioning that Freddie had the backside of Sam's underwear pulled down during one of his turns).

SeddieBenett: Breathe! If this is the type of adverse reaction we get, we'll have to cut your daily Gibby dosage down.

axel100: I do not have it completely written. As of the time you reviewed, I only had the first draft of this chapter written. Under normal circumstances, Freddie definitely would probably have cut the evening short, but he was doing it all for the girl he loved. And I'm definitely taking a break, so I can at least get out of the mindset of the Gibby chapter, because it seems I have an immediate pervy reply to everything right now.

Princess Starlight: Well, after the initial porn, when they moved to the instructional DVDs, Freddie was treating it like research, trying not to think about it. Plus, the image he had of Gibby pretty much put Freddie's libido out of commission for a little bit. And Gibby is just Gibby. We can never hope to understand how he functions. And, yes, your threats forced me to publish early, but now I'm so overcome with the fear that you won't like further chapters that I'm hesitant to publish. Heh.

Cheruth: Yep, poor Freddie fell under the authorial prerogative of the writer. Hmm...Freddie can't look at porn himself, because his mom or Sam or Carly would know. He could talk to Spencer, but not about Sam. But, wait, isn't there Gunsmoke? Uh, no, urgent business outside the country, no phones, so sorry.

jamiewalsh: I don't think it's a tradition that Freddie's looking to continue. Although I do have to admit I have actually watched one with another guy before. In my defense, I was more than slightly drunk. And I was the one doing the Howard Cosell sports commentary. But, yeah, I couldn't imagine doing that sober.

: I'm thinking of going around the country to high schools preaching abstinence, just by going to the microphone and saying, "Gibby porn!"