AN-This is a sequel to chapter 223, where Freddie got sent to mall jail after "confronting" the guy at the mall who was hitting on Sam.
….
Rod
"Well, baby," Sam said happily as her and her husband walked back into their home. "How was it?"
"How was what?" Freddie mumbled.
"Aw, is someone bitter about being arrested?" Sam grinned.
"It's not funny, Sam," Freddie said. "I have a criminal record now!"
"Oh calm down," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "It was mall jail. As long as you pay the fine, nothing goes on you precious record."
"I can't calm down, Sam!" Freddie snapped.
"Wow, mall jail turned you grumpy," Sam said.
"Sorry," Freddie sighed. "I'm just still a little angry over this whole thing."
"Why? Because some jerky guy from the Pottery Barrel was hitting on me at the mall?" Sam asked. "Baby, don't worry about it! I took care of it. Trust me, he'll think twice about flirting with married chicks now."
"Yeah, but what about the next guy?" Freddie said, sinking down onto the couch.
"Next guy?" Sam frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Sam, you're hot," Freddie said.
"Um, thank you?" Sam said, raising an eyebrow. "But again, what are you talking about?"
"Sam, guys are always going to hit on you," Freddie said miserably. "I mean, look at you!"
"Freddie," Sam said gently, sitting down next to him. "Even if a guy does hit on me, and it doesn't happen that often, do you really think I'd do anything other than flash my wedding ring and tell him to get lost?"
"No, of course not," Freddie said. "I know you'd never actually pursue anything. It's just…well, it gets a little hard, you know. Seeing all these guys chase after your wife."
"But I told you, it's not like it's a daily thing, Fredifer," Sam said, putting her arm around him. "Since we've been together, its happened maybe ten times."
"Yeah, those are just the ones who hit on you to your face," Freddie said. "You remember last week when we went out to dinner?"
"Sure," Sam nodded.
"Well when you got up to go to the bathroom, one of the guys at the table next to you kept saying how hot you looked and that you-you must be blind for being with someone like me." He glanced down at the floor as he said this.
"Freddie, I remember those guys," Sam said. "And trust me, you were a million times more attractive than any of them were."
"You're just saying that because you're married to me," Freddie mumbled.
"No, I'm not," Sam said sincerely. "And you can't let this get to you. So a couple of jerky guys hit on me. That doesn't mean anything! You don't see me getting all bent out of shape about chicks hitting on you."
"Girls don't hit on me, baby," Freddie said. "I think we both know you're the looker in this relationship."
"Really?" Sam said. "In case you haven't been looking in the mirror for the past ten years, you've got yourself some nice muscles there. Trust me, girls notice that. And you know what? Come on, I'm going to prove it to you."
"Um, how?" Freddie frowned as Sam stood up.
"You'll see," Sam smiled. "Now just come with me."
…
"Why'd we come to the Groovy Smoothie?" Freddie asked as Sam led him into the restaurant.
"Because," Sam said simply. She held out her hand. "Give me your wedding ring."
"What?" Freddie explained.
"Just do it," Sam insisted.
"But why?" Freddie asked.
"Because you're crazy if you don't think chicks are checking you out, Benson," Sam said. "But unlike most guys, girls aren't total pigs, and if they see a ring, they'll back off…usually."
"Sam, this is insane," Freddie said.
"No it's not," Sam said. "Now give me your wedding ring before I take it off for you myself, and I can't promise I'll be gentle about that."
"Fine, fine," Freddie said quickly, sliding off his ring and handing it to Sam. "So now what?"
"Okay, you see that lady at the counter?" Sam asked, nodding towards a tall red head.
"Yeah," Freddie said.
"Go over to her," Sam instructed. "Compliment her shoes, and then just wait and see what happens."
"You want me to compliment her shoes?" Freddie said.
"Yup," Sam smiled. "Now go!"
"You know, I still don't get you sometimes," Freddie said as he headed over to the counter towards the woman Sam had pointed out.
"Um…hi," Freddie said.
"Hi," the woman replied, looking up from a text message on her phone.
"You, um," Freddie began, looking back at Sam who nodded for him to continue. "You-You have really nice shoes."
The woman stared at him. "I have nice shoes?"
"Yeah, well, you know they're really…black," Freddie said.
"Wow," the woman smiled. "That's so sweet. I don't think a guy has ever complimented my shoes before. I'm Amber, by the way."
"Oh, um, nice to-"
"Hey, you know what," Amber said, stepping closer to Freddie. "Why don't we go and get some coffee?"
"Oh!" Freddie said, his eyes widening. "No, I'm-"
"Or you know what?" Amber said, placing a hand on Freddie's shoulder. "We could go camping this weekend! I just got a new fishing rod and-"
"Okay, I think we're done here," Sam said, stepping over to Freddie's side.
"Excuse me?" Amber snapped, crossing her arms. "Just who are you?"
"His wife," Sam smirked, putting her arm around Freddie. "So beat it."
"I don't see a ring on his finger," Amber said.
"Yeah, well," Sam said, sliding Freddie's ring back onto his finger. "Now you do."
Amber gave Sam one last glare before stomping out of the Groovy Smoothie.
"You see?" Sam said, looking up at Freddie. "You get hit on."
"Huh…" Freddie said slowly. "That was…interesting."
"Don't get used to it," Sam said sternly. "But I told you that plenty of other women think you're hot."
"Maybe," Freddie shrugged, smiling at Sam. "But there's still only one who I actually care about."
