A/N: Goodness this is long. It's like 4 and a bit pages on Microsoft word. And it's a little over 2000 words. I had to do it that way though. This consists a future Sam and Freddie in an established relationship. Quite established.


Thrill

Sam's POV

The glasses were clinked, and I saw the groom roll his eyes, before he leaned over and kissed his bride – me. It was a quick and well, quite chaste, kiss, but I still felt the sparks of being next to him, of touching him, and of course, of kissing him. Even after all these years. Who would have thought? Most people say the initial thrill ends, but that's not what I feel with Freddie.

I look around to see who had initiated that kiss (it's like the 4th one, and the appetizers haven't even been served, and I'm hungry), and my glare softens as I see a guilty-looking Carly Shay, sitting beside me. "Carlotta!" I scold her quietly, and she just grins before clinking the glass again, and soon everyone in the room is joining her.

"This is getting ridiculous," Freddie mutters, leaning towards me again.

"It's all Carly," I tell him, before I press my lips to his, again, quickly.

After I pull away, still feeling that tingly feeling I get from just being near Freddie, I steal Carly's silverware and place it on my lap. Then I look past Carly and down the head table, next to the oh-so-innocent-looking Carly Shay, is her older brother Spencer, who had given me away. The Shays were more like family, than my real family though in the later years of high school things had started to improve. Spencer looked good in his tux, and I was glad he had agreed to give me away when I had asked him.

Beside Spencer sits my perfect, twin sister, Melanie. She is disappointed that she wasn't asked to be the maid of honor. But I had more than one reason, first of all, I hated living in her shadow, and today was my day not hers, secondly, Carly was my best friend in the entire world, and I love her so much and she's done so much for me, thirdly, Carly, Freddie and I were all best friends, she meant just as much to him as she did to me. Melanie will have to settle for bridesmaid.

Beside Melanie at the end of my side of the table is my mother, already demanding her food (well that's like me) and demanding alcohol for free (even though we have an open bar so it's not like she'll pay anyway). I shake my head in disbelief. Our relationship may have improved in the later years that I was in high school, but my mom will never win the prize for Best Mom.

As our salads (that Freddie insisted we have because "not everyone eats a first, second, and third course of meat') our placed in front of us, I look over to my fiancé – wait, to my husband's side of the table. Freddie catches my eyes before I can look past him, and he placed a hand on my knee underneath the table, and the butterflies in my stomach do an excited dance, and I smiled at him.

On Freddie's left is his best man, Gibby. He's been a close friend of ours since high school, and I'm glad he agreed to be Freddie's best man, because originally Freddie had wanted to ask Spencer. Next to Gibby is his wife, Tasha, they were high school sweethearts as well, but since Freddie and I do everything in a backwards sort of way, they were married about a year and a half earlier than us. Next to Tasha sits Freddie's mom, Mrs. Benson – or Marissa as I've now been told to call her. At least she didn't ask me to call her Mother or something like that.

The glasses are clinked again, and I automatically glance toward Carly, who shrugs looking bewildered, after all, her silverware is still on my lap, and I realize she hasn't touched her salad because she doesn't have a fork. Freddie rolls his eyes again and sighs, "Is kissing me really that bad?" I asked, pretending to be hurt, because quite frankly, I'm a little annoyed, and still very hungry, it's hard to eat with all this kissing and kissing with your mouth full is never enjoyable, trust me.

"No, I love kissing you!" Freddie exclaims a little louder than he meant to, and there is an echo of laughter, as he turns red from embarrassment, I complete the stupid tradition so the annoying tinkling sound of metal on glass stops. Freddie squeezes my knee under the table, and I smile into the kiss.

As Freddie pulls away, he whispers, "I love you," and I laugh, "You're so cheesy."

Yet, I'm beginning to think that I'm the cheesy one here. After all, every time we kiss I still get the fireworks and the butterflies. It's always been that way. We shared our first kiss after all. Although it's probably not the romantic first date kiss you're thinking of.


It had all started with his laugh. It was his idea, though really, we had had the same idea at the same time. That laugh, almost a snort, was what had caused me to complete lose my head, or so I thought in the initial aftermath of what happened.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing, it's…" Freddie trailed off.

"Tell me!" I had insisted.

"Nah, it's dumb." He replied. I bit my lip to stop myself from saying "you're dumb," instead choosing to order him.

"Say it!"

"Okay," he conceded, "I was just gonna say…"

"That we should kiss?" I finished the sentence for him.

"You're gonna break my arm now right?" he questioned, a look of fear on his face. In normal circumstances that fear would be appropriate, but I had been feeling the same way Freddie had for awhile. Why were first kisses such a big deal anyway?

"No," I shook my head.

"Well, should we? Just so both of us can get it over with?" he asked, less fearful and more nervous looking.

"Hmmm. Just to get it over with," because everyone knows that I don't want to have anything romantic happen with him. I mean, we're supposed to hate each other.

"Just to get it over with…" He repeated.

I moved to sit beside him, "And you swear that we both go right back to hating each other as soon as it's over,"

"Oh totally," he agreed, and I'm beginning to wonder if anyone else's first kisses had this much negotiation, he continued, "And we never tell anyone."

"Never," I agreed. Then we both fell silent, before I plucked up the courage and said, "Well, lean,"

Freddie let out a nervous sigh, then closed his eyes, leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. I was shocked, keeping my eyes open; I thought he would have chickened out. As we pulled away, and after a few short words and a weird departing sentence, I walked down the hallways back to Carly's apartment. I chalked the good, tingly, feeling I was having as a reaction to it being my first kiss.


"What are you thinking about?" Freddie asked me, shaking me out of my memory.

"Meatballs," I replied instantly.

He laughed, "You're always thinking about food."

"Well, I'm hungry, salads are for losers." I noted, glancing at his empty plate, "Like you."

He placed a hand over his heart faux-shocked, "Well, you are now Mrs. Loser."

"No, no, no," I shook my head playfully, "You're Mr. Awesome, 'cause you married me, and I'm awesome."

Freddie laughed, "Oh, hey look, a course you will eat." The servers brought out a plate of spaghetti and ironically, meatballs.

"It's like our first date, all over again," I whispered.

"Except for all the extra people," Freddie says, "And also, now who's the cheesy one?"


I won't go into the details about how Freddie and I got together, because, well, it's complicated, and just a whole other story, but our first date is something else entirely. First, Freddie picked me up from Carly's apartment.

There was a knock on the door and Carly squealed, "It's Freddie!"

"Obviously, but why is he knocking?" I asked, trying not to bounce up and down from my excitement.

"Because he obviously wants to do the traditional first date thing, now answer the door!"

"Yes, because we are sooo traditional," I had laughed, and then went to open the door, "Hey, Fredwar-" I couldn't finish my sentence because my jaw had dropped. Freddie looked fantastic.

He was wearing a dark set of jeans, and a black button down shirt, and I noticed he hadn't let his mother fluff his hair, which is good because I liked him just the way he was. "You look great, Sam!" he said, flashing a green at me.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Benson," I managed to say.

"Ooooh! I have to get pictures!" Carly shrieked, and both Freddie and I winced at her high pitch.

"Really, Carls? Photos?" I crossed my arms.

"I promised Spencer!" she admitted, "Please?" She knew I couldn't say no, and I've always had a soft spot for Spencer, so I nodded. "Yay!" Carly cheered.

Freddie looked shocked but pleased, and I stood next to Freddie, who hesitated before he wrapped his arm around my waist. I nearly jumped away as a jolt of electricity went through me. I automatically leaned my head against him and Freddie glanced down at me surprised, he must have smiled because Carly clicked the picture. "You guys are so adorable!" she announced. Freddie had ended up making me dinner and serving it to me on the fire escape - it was spaghetti and meatballs.


"Sam," Freddie's calling my name, and by the concerned look on the face it's not the first time.

"Yes?" I ask, grinning.

"You're spacing out a lot today, are you okay?" he questions me.

"I'm fine, great actually, just reliving some happy memories," I tell him.

"About ham?" he jokes.

I start to answer, but the DJ is announcing that is time for the first dance, and I'm a little sad because I finished my dinner without even noticing it really, lost in my thoughts. But Freddie pulls me up, and onto the dance floor and I we sway in time to the music, I lean into him, and he has one hand wrapped tightly around my waist, and the other is grasping mine.

The music rises and falls in a steady rhythm around us, and my free hand lies on Freddie's chest feeling his heart beating. We spin in slow circles, and I was surprised but happy when I found out that Freddie was quite the dancer. I shiver with happiness, and start to remember our first dance.


"I can't believe you want to dance," Freddie shook his head, "It just doesn't seem like you."

I had laughed then, and forced him to watch the video of me in the pageant. "I won you know…" I mentioned having not been properly congratulated at the time because of that stupid game he was playing with Spencer.

"I know," he acknowledged, "I'm sorry I was such a jerk that night, can I make it up to you now?" he asked, clearing a space in the Shay's living room (Carly and Spencer had went to pick up ingredients for spaghetti tacos) and offering his hand to me.

I blinked staring at it, hit hard by a thought I tried to suppress, however I took his hand and fell into step with him, but when he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, I mumbled into his chest, "I saw you and Carly dance at the Groovy Smoothie." And it's like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I feel so good and so bad, because Freddie's still holding onto me, but he's not saying anything.

"Sam, that dance was just with someone we didn't want to kill, our dates were both awful and Carly will always be a friend, she has always been a friend. I may have wanted something more – but… It wasn't meant to be, because you and me, we were meant to be." I smiled into his shirt, and held on a little tighter.


The song ends, but I don't want to let go of Freddie just yet, so instead I stood on my tip toes and whispered in his ear, "I haven't been thinking about ham, I've been thinking about you, and I love you, Fredward Benson."

"And I love you too, Mrs. Samantha Benson." Then he leaned down and kissed me senseless, the same fireworks that have always been there erupting. Being with Freddie was always a thrill.


A/N: I hope Sam's not too out of character. It's a special day. Hope you enjoyed R&R.