Gahh, this chapter is so long overdue it isn't even funny. I've been in nonstop rehearsals for the holiday ballet, no joke. I didn't even go home for Thanksgiving, which felt really weird. But never mind that. Chapter. Now. Thanks!

Have I ever posted a disclaimer on this story? I'm not sure I have.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own iCarly. But I do own Rodney, Blake, and the Pell Street Music Club (PSMC), and tonight's deejay.

"Pass the ketchup," I say to Sam, taking a sip from my soda. She dutifully hands it over and I squirt it over my fries. We're sitting atour usual table in the PSMC, tucking in for karaoke night. They host it the first Saturday of every month. Sam says that they're really funny, because no one is ever any good.

Blake scoots by and grabs our empty glasses. "Refills, you two?" he asks. We nod. "Thanks, Blake," says Sam, flashing him a peace sign. Her oversized white sweater slips off one shoulder as she smiles at him. Does she like him? Because Blake, with his bleach-tipped hair and cocky half-smile, is definetely a nub. Maybe king of the nubs. So not right for her.

Sam slaps me on the arm. "They're starting!" she whispers excitedly. "The first person is always the wrost because they're nervous." I watch as the first girl takes to the stage. She sings a shaky version of Ginger Fox's "Number One." Sam's right: they are bad here. Several more people go, singing karaoke classics that no one can ever get right, like All Star and Jailhouse Rock. (Oh, Elvis. What were you thinking?) Blake reappears with our drinks.

"What about you, Puckett? Are you going to sing again?" he asks, setting the glasses down on the table. I nearly choke on my BLT.

"Sing? Sam sang?" I say, trying not to laugh. She doesn't seem like the singing type. She's more of the "I'm going to kick your ass" type. And the latter is better. It's one of the things I love about her. Love? No no, I meant like. I think.

Blake nods. "Yeah. Sam can bring down the house," he says, winking at her. Ugh. I want to gag.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say I bring down the house . . ." she laughs. "But yeah, I do sing. Sometimes." She blushes, and then Blake walks away. I turn to her and grin.

"Sing."

"No!"

"C'mon, you know you want to," I nag.

"No, Freddie, I only sing when I want to."

"You know you want to . . ." I trail off, leaving her to think about it. After a moment, she stands up and smiles.

"Fine. I'll sing," she says, crossing her arms and smirking. "But under one condition."

"What is it?" I ask.

"Duet. You and me."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam must be out of her mind, or she's had too much meat and it's affecting her brain. So either way, she's really out of her mind.

"Dead serious. Come on," she says, tugging on my hand and dragging me to the sign up. She flicks through the binder and stops on one specific song. "This one," she says, stabbing the CD. "We're doing this one. Trust me, it will be great." I shrug. I don't even want to do this.

She hands the CD to the deejay, who promises to put us at the top of the list. Apparently, Sam's singing is very popular here at the PSMC. A mere five minutes later, we're onstage with microphones. "Hey hey hey, we've got a fan favorite here. Tonight Sam Puckett's singing with her pal, Freddie Benson. They're doing an old classic, Don't Go Breaking My Heart!" The crowd cheers as the opening notes play out. [A/N: Freddie is the bold, Sam is italics, and together they're bolded italics]

Don't go breaking my heart. I couldn't if I tried. Honey, if I get restless. Baby, you're not that kind. Don't go breaking my heart. You take the weight off me. Honey, when you knock on my door. I gave you my key. Nobody knows it. When I was down. I was your clown. Nobody knows it. Right from the start, I gave you my heart. I gave you my heart. So don't go breaking my heart. I won't go breaking your heart. Don't go breaking my heart. And nobody told us. 'Cause nobody showed us. And now it's up to us, babe. I think we can make it. So don't misunderstand me. You put the light in my life. You put the sparks to the flame. I've got your heart in my sights. Nobody knows it. When I was down. I was your clown. Nobody knows it. Right from the start. I gave you my heart. I gave you my heart. So don't go breaking my heart. I won't go breaking your heart. Don't go breaking my heart.

When the song winds down, the crowd errupts into applause. I look over to Sam, who's smiling like crazy. She turns to me, and then surprises me by squealing, sticking her arms up into the air, and then giving me a rib-crushing hug. But it feels good. We actually sounded good together.

"Hey hey hey, let's give it up for Sam and Freddie!" the deejay shouts, and the crowd gets louder. I glance over at Sam. Though this night was not how I pictured it, I don't think I would have changed it either.

I hope y'all liked this. Please review!

xo, Chantal