AN- So this is another request. I'm writing the request oneshots in the order I get them, so if you requested something, don't worry, I'll have it up in the next chapters. I'm still taking requests if anybody still wants to send me one!

Judgment

"Sam, feel my pulse," Freddie said, holding his wrist out to Sam. "It's twice as fast as it should be!"

"Then stop freaking out," Sam told him. "Honestly, you'd think you're about to go off to war or something, the way you're acting."

"The guy hates me!" Freddie exclaimed. "And he knows 'people' that can have me hurt!"

"Why the air quotes around people?"

"I don't know!" Freddie cried. "You see how disoriented this is making me?"

"Look, Uncle Carmine doesn't hate you," Sam said. "And he's not going to have you hurt."

"That's not what he told me at our wedding," Freddie pointed out. "While I was getting ready he came into the room and told me if I ever did anything to you he would call his buddies from prison to come after me!"

"Are you planning on doing anything?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, of course not," Freddie said quickly.

"Then what are you worried about?" Sam said. "Come on, the judge said that he didn't think Uncle Carmine was dangerous anymore-"

"Clearly that judge needs better judgment," Freddie mumbled.

"He's only staying here for a few days," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "He really wants to see Jason; all he's seen are the pictures I've sent to the jail. You'll be fine, you baby."

"We'll see about that," Freddie said under his breath.

"Sammy!"

"Hey, Uncle Carmine!" Sam smiled, running to give her uncle a hug as he walked through the front door of the Benson house. "How's it going? It's been ages since I've seen you!"

"I know, lousy prison, restricting my visitation rights just because of one little fight," Carmine nodded. "The guy was asking for it! He called me a stubrag! Now, where's this little guy I've been hearing so much about?"

"Come here, Jason," Sam said to her and Freddie's three-year old son who was standing behind his mother's leg shyly. "This is your Uncle Carmine."

"Hey there, Jason," Carmine grinned, kneeling down so he could look at the toddler better. "I've got something for you."

"A present?" Jason asked excitedly, his shyness evaporating at once.

"Shoosh yeah, a present," he grinned, pulling a box out of his bag. "Here you go, buddy."

"Wow, a squirt gun!" he exclaimed, tearing open the package.

"A squirt bazooka," Carmine corrected. "That thing has the water pressure of an industrial house."

"Cool! Can I use it now?"

"I'd be insulted if you didn't," Carmine nodded.

"Thank you, Uncle Carmine!" Jason yelled over his shoulder as he hurried out to the backyard to play with his new toy.

"Lucky that kid looks like you," Carmine said to Sam.

"Nah, he looks more like Freddie," Sam said.

"Don't worry, the Puckett in him will overthrow that," he said. "Speaking of which, where is your nub of a husband?"

"He was here," Sam said, looking over her shoulder into the living room. "I don't know where he got to-"

Just then the sliding glass door that led to the backyard opened and a dripping wet Freddie sloshed into the house.

"Babe, why are you wet?" Sam frowned as her husband came over.

"Jason sprayed me with that great new toy of his," Freddie said.

"Ha, it works!" Carmine grinned, high fiving Sam.

"Yeah, yeah it does," Freddie said with a strained smile. "Er, it's-it's good to see you again…sir."

"You've been keeping my Sammy happy, right?" Carmine said in a menacing voice. "Because it would be a shame if she wasn't. That might mean me stepping in to…resolve the problem."

Freddie's eyes widened. "I-I, yes, yes she's happy. No-No need to resolve any problems. Please."

Carmine and Sam exchanged glances and laughed.

"I've missed that sense of humor," Sam said, still smiling. "Oh, I have to show you these awesome numchucks that I got at this MMA expo last week! Wait here and I'll go grab them."

Freddie, cursing his luck that he was now left completely alone with Carmine, turned back to the large man. "Um, so…any-any plans now that you're out of prison?"

"Don't try to make innocent small talk with me," Carmine said sternly, taking a step towards Freddie. "Don't think I forgot what I told you on your wedding day."

"But-But I haven't done anything to Sam," Freddie said, feeling his heart beating very quickly in his thoracic cavity. "I told you that!"

"You better make sure it stays that way," he said, jabbing a finger at Freddie's chest. "If I ever find out you make her cry, make her angry, there's going to be nothing left of you but that ridiculous polo shirt you're wearing. If I ever find out you've even so much as looked at another woman, you're going to just…disappear."

"Disappear?" Freddie gulped.

"Disappear," Carmine nodded. "Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

"Y-Yes," Freddie said. "You-You don't need to worry though...sir. I love Sam, I would never hurt her."

"I know you won't," Carmine said. "Because if you do, you'll have me to face. And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"No, I would not," Freddie said in a squeaky voice.

"Good," Carmine said. "Looks like you really are a smart one."

"Check these out," Sam said, running back into the room with a pair of numchucks. "You could really knock a guy out with these!"

"Very nice craftsmanship," Carmine commented, examining the numchucks. "Who knows, maybe I'll give them a whirl while I'm here." He looked at Freddie as he said this, causing poor Freddie's knees to buckle. "Now where's your bathroom in this place? I need to take a wicked wazz."

"That door right there," Sam told him.

"You guys get ready to go when I'm done," Carmine told them. "I'm taking you all out for some Italian food; my treat!"

"Awesome," Sam grinned. Once Carmine had left the room, she turned to Freddie. "You see? He's taking us out for dinner; I don't know what you were worried about."

"Give me these," Freddie said, grabbing the numchucks from his wife.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

"We've got to hide everything in this house that can be used to hurt me," Freddie said. "I've got to go get all of the butter out of the fridge…"