Sigh, late again. My apologies. Especially since this chapter is kind of a filler chapter. But it's also kind of important too, I think. Next chapter should be more exciting, and since I'm FINALLY done with my English III term paper, MAYBE it will be up on time? Maybe? I hope? I'll try anyway. Please don't burn me at the stake if it doesn't happen.

Disclaimer: Je ne possède pas iCarly. (And I don't speak French either, but Google does). Je n'ai pas Google soit propre.

I don't know how long I was standing there, staring into space, completely unaware of everything around me. All I could think about were those three words that had just come out of Sam's mouth.

"I'm psychic too."

In all the years I'd known Sam, and with all the time I'd spent trying to figure out why on Earth I couldn't read her mind, that was the one thing that I hadn't thought of. Stubborn girl? Yes. Evil genius? Of course. But fellow psychic? It had never even crossed my mind as a possibility. I wondered what kind of psychic she was. Did she have telepathy like me? Clairvoyance like Moira? Maybe she was that other kind of psychic Moira sometimes talked about. The ones who could move things with their minds. What was that power called again? Telekansas? Telekisis? Tele…

I was snapped out of my reverie when I felt my cheek begin to sting very badly all of a sudden. I looked up to see a pair of irritated looking blue eyes and a hand raised dangerously close to my face.

"Sam!" I said. "Why did you slap me?"

"It was the only thing I could think of!" she defended. "I've been saying your name for nearly three minutes and you wouldn't respond!"

"So you slapped me?"

"Well what was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, poke me or something? Something more gentle than slapping me across the face!"

"In case you haven't noticed Benson, I don't do gentle."

"Clearly!" I rubbed my sore face gingerly. "My cheek still stings!"

"Quit being a big baby. Just be glad it wasn't your butt cheek."

"Wow, now I feel really lucky," I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

She eyed me suspiciously, but then just shrugged. "Whatever. I'm leaving now."

"Wait!" I said, grabbing her wrist. "Where are you going? I thought you were sleeping at Carly's tonight."

"Well I was, but I don't really feel like it so much anymore. I'm going home." She tried to leave but I refused to let go. "Let me go!"

"Sam, it's nearly ten o'clock at night and you just had a near-death experience! Don't you think walking around the city alone at night might be pushing your luck?"

"I'll be fine. Now if you'll excuse me…"

"Sam, I nearly lost you once today. I'm not willing to risk it again so soon."

"You sound like a character from one of those cheesy chick-flicks."

"Sam…please stay. Please."

She stared at me skeptically for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she sighed. "Alright. I'll stay. But you'd better not bug me." I let go of her wrist and she walked to the couch, plopped herself down onto the cushions, and resumed watching TV. I sat down in the big, comfy chair sitting next to the couch.

"So…" I said carefully. "Psychic, huh?"

"Yep," she replied, sounding bored.

"What…what kind of psychic?"

She looked at me curiously. "There's more than one kind?"

"Yeah. There's telepathy, the ability to read minds; clairvoyance, the ability to see the future; and telek…um, the ability to move objects with your mind. I have telepathy. And you have…"

She groaned. "Figures I'd get stuck with the same dopey power as you. There are really people who can move stuff around without touching it? Why couldn't I have gotten that power? I'd never have to walk again!"

"So you're saying you have telepathy too?"

"No Bird Brain, I'm saying that on Thursdays I like to dress up in a sombrero and throw rocks at squirrels. Yes I'm saying I have telepathy!"

"Oh." She went back to watching TV and I occupied my time by staring at the coffee table. "Do you really do that on Thursdays?"

"No!"

"Okay, just making sure."

She rolled her eyes. "Jeez, and you're the smart one."

I ignored her comment. "So does it work on me?"

"Does what work on you?"

"Your telepathy. Does it work on me? Can you read my mind?"

"Only on those same times that you listed. Tonight when I was falling off the window washer's platform and…" Her voice trailed off, as if she didn't want to even think about the other time.

"When we kissed?" I said. She nodded curtly and once again resumed staring at the MMA fight on the television.

I didn't know how she could just watch TV and not think about everything that had happened that night. I couldn't concentrate on anything but that night even before I learned Sam was psychic, and now my mind was only racing faster. Her being psychic had to have something to do with the fact that we couldn't read each other's minds, but what? And how had we managed to find each other in the first place? I had been surprised enough when I met Moira, but another psychic? And one who was my age and had my same power? What were the odds?

That's when it hit me. Somewhere, buried deep in the back of my brain, was a vague memory of a conversation Moira and I once had.

"Hey Moira, do you ever think it's weird that we both have powers and we found each other?"

"No, people with powers tend to have that effect. Something always draws them together. It's like the Universe's way of making sure we don't have to deal with these things alone."

Suddenly I shot out of my seat, making Sam look at me like I was a crazy person. I grabbed her wrist again and pulled her off of the couch, running towards the door.

"What's your problem, Benson?" she said, struggling to free herself.

"We have to talk to Moira," I said.

"Who?"

"Another psychic. Clairvoyant actually. She'll know what to do."

"What to do about what exactly?" she said as I pulled her through the door.

"Everything!"

"Well that's not vague at all."

"Mom!" I said as I opened my apartment door. "I'm going over to Moira's!"

"Freddie!" I heard my mom call from somewhere in the apartment. She rushed into the living room. "Where have you been all night? And why is that delinquent with you? You'd better have a good explanation Mister!" I knew that blonde trouble maker was a bad influence on him!

"Sorry Mom," I said. "No time. I have to go to Moira's now. I'll explain everything later." I closed the door before my mom could tell me to make sure I remembered to watch out for hobos and look both ways before crossing the hall.

"How do you know this Mira person anyway?" Sam asked as we continued down the hall.

"Moira. Old family friend. We met her when we moved here when I was six years old, right after my dad died. She helped to comfort my mom, and they've been friends ever since."

"You mean Crazy is actually capable of making friends?"

"Sam!"

"Okay, sorry. Sheesh."

We arrived in front of Moira's door. I opened the door and turned on the light to find…nothing. The apartment was empty.

"She's still not back?" I said to myself. "She's been gone since last Saturday."

"Where'd she go?"

"I don't know. I just came here last week to talk to her and I found this." I went to the table and handed her the note that said Moira had to go somewhere that day. She looked over the note quickly.

"How'd she know you'd be looking for her?"

"She can see into the future, remember?"

"But she wasn't even here to see you. How could she have seen something in the future that she was never going to see?"

"I don't know. Maybe we are going to have a conversation about it later."

"And you said this person is an old friend?"

"Yeah…why?"

"If she's such a good friend, why didn't she tell you she was leaving? Or for that matter, where she was going?"

"Sam, I know what you're getting at, but trust me, Moira's not some criminal on the run or anything like that. She's my mom's best friend. And besides that, I've read her mind. I know what she thinks about. If I can trust anyone, it's her."

"Then why is this note stained with blood?"

"WHAT?"

"Gotcha!" Sam howled, handing me the clean, blood-free note. "You should have seen your face!"

"Ha ha. You're hilarious."

"I know. It's a gift. Now let's go."

"Go where?"

"Back to Carly's. Or even better, I'll go back to Carly's and you go back to your own nerd cave. There's no reason to hang around if Myrna isn't even here."

"Moira."

"Like it matters." She started to leave, and I was going to let her, when suddenly, something caught my eye. It was the note still clenched in my hand. It looked like there were more words on it, overlapping the ones already there. The new words were very faint, and I could only see them when I was standing directly under the overhead light. I turned the note over and confirmed my suspicions.

"Wait!" I said, and ran to catch Sam right as she was walking through the doorway.

"Dude, you've got to quit grabbing my wrist like that!"

"Sam, look at the back of the note." Her eyebrows knit together and she came closer. She looked over my shoulder and we both read the message written on the back of the first note.

"Dear Freddie and Sam,

Sorry I'm still not home. I'll be there in just a few minutes, if you're willing to wait a bit.

-Moira"

Sam and I looked at each other. "That's just creepy," said Sam.

I rolled my eyes. "So will you stay and wait for a little while?"

"Is there a TV here?"

"No."

"See ya."

"Sam!" I reached out and…

"Don't you dare grab my wrist again," she seethed.

I gulped. "Yes ma'am. But will you please stay? It's important to me."

She appeared to think about it for a moment. "Fine," she said, sitting down on the living room couch. "But this Mona chick better not be a loser."

I rolled my eyes and sat down next to her. She put her feet in my lap and rested her head on the couch's arm. "So, you said your dad died when you were six?"

I was a little taken aback at her incredibly blunt question. "Um…yeah…" I said. It was all I could think of to say.

"How'd he die?" Her bored tone was not well hidden, and it was clear that she never intended for it to be. It was as if she was asking me to pass the salt.

"Car accident. My mom hasn't been the same since."

"So that's why she's crazy?"

I nodded. "That's why. After it happened, she became super protective of me. I was all she had left, and she didn't want to lose me too. We moved to the Bushwell shortly after because we couldn't afford the house we'd been living in on only my mom's income. That's when we met Moira. Her husband had died a few years before, and she helped my mom get through it. It wasn't long before I figured out that she was psychic too."

"How'd you figure it out?"

"I read her mind at the same time that she was seeing into the future. She was thinking about my mom having one of her cleaning spells…that's when she gets really upset about my dad and cleans everything in the house. The thing was, it was the first time she and my mom had ever met, and she shouldn't have known about the cleaning spells yet."

"Wait, so you can read Marla's mind but not mine?"

"Yep. I guess it's because we have the same power. Moira's power is different."

Sam nodded. All was quiet for a moment, but then Sam spoke up again. "My dad left when I was four," she said.

I knew Sam's dad wasn't in the picture, but this was the first time she'd ever actually mentioned him. I looked at her, but she wouldn't look at me, instead choosing to take a sudden interest in the couch pattern. She looked like she was trying to hide the fact that she was upset. "I'm sorry Sam," I whispered.

"Don't be," she scoffed. "He was an asshole. Hard to believe that my mom is actually the good parent, huh?" She finally looked at me, and her eyes were sad, like they might spill over with tears at any moment. But I knew that wouldn't happen. Sam Puckett would never let me see her cry. I reached out and placed my hand lightly on top of hers. Surprisingly, she didn't object.

The door opened suddenly, and a silver-haired woman entered the apartment, dragging two large suitcases behind her. She stopped when she saw us, and gave us both a smile that looked kind of sad. "Hello Freddie," she said. I stood up to give her a hug, and when I let go, I noticed her lavender eyes staring at my blonde friend, who'd pulled herself up into a sitting position. "Hello Sam."

"You're Martha?"

Moira chuckled. "Something like that. Can I get either of you anything? I'm going to make a cup of tea for myself."

"Decaf tea would be great," I said.

"Coming right up. Sam?"

"You got any ham?"

"No ham, but I think I have some sliced turkey."

"Eh, it'll do," said Sam.

"Two teas and some sliced turkey," Moira repeated. "Got it. Make yourselves comfortable anywhere."

"Way ahead of you," said Sam, slouching back against the armrest and putting her feet up again. She was soon greeted by a package of sliced deli turkey. I decided to stand, not wanting to have to move Sam's feet to sit on the couch. I reached for a slice of turkey and got a punch in the arm, but Sam let me have some of the meat anyway.

"So," said Moira, setting down two cups and filling both with hot water and tea bags. "What brings you by?" she asked.

"I thought you said she could see the future," said Sam. "Shouldn't she already know why we're here?"

"She does already know," I explained. "But she has to ask anyway. If she doesn't ask, there's nothing for her to see."

"Well that's dumb," she said, picking up another slice of turkey and dropping it into her mouth.

"Well, you see," I said, ignoring (or at least trying to ignore) Sam's rudeness, "Sam and I…we kind of figured out that…well I told Sam…"

"Fredhead knows I'm psychic and I know he is too," Sam said.

"I was getting to that!"

"Well you were taking too long!"

"Must you be so impatient?"

"Must you be such a nerd?"

"I'm not a nerd!"

"Yes you are!"

"So? That doesn't give you license to just…"

"Enough!" Moira shouted. We stopped immediately. Moira almost never yelled, but when she did, everyone knew she meant business. "Okay, so you know you're both psychic. What else do you want to know exactly?"

"Well…I just thought…I thought that maybe since I'd figured it out, you could finally explain some things. Like…well I don't know. It just seemed like you would have something to say about this."

Moira chuckled. "Figured it out? Freddie, if you had this figured out at all, you wouldn't need to see me."

"So you can tell me something else about all this?" I asked.

She sighed and grabbed two chairs from the kitchen, setting them both near the couch and taking a seat in one of them. "Sit down," she told me. "It's time you and Sam knew some things about each other."