AN-Hey, really sorry I put the wrong chapter up yesterday! I forgot that I had written another oneshot with the same title a while ago, so when I went to upload it, I accidently uploaded the old one instead.
…..
Ink
"And you know how sometimes you may think a squirrel is looking at you weird?" Freddie said to Carly as the two climbed downstairs from the iCarly studio. "Well it's actually just them listening intently to your movements."
"Uh-huh," Carly said boredly as she walked over to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of lemonade.
"You see, they're listening to try and see if it sounds like you're a threat to them and-"
"Hey, Freddie, don't take this the wrong way, but why aren't you going on about squirrels to Sam?" Carly cut him off. "I mean, that's what girlfriends are for; for pretending to care about whatever it is your rambling on about."
"She's out with some friend she met when she was visiting her aunt in jail," Freddie told her. "The kid was apparently visiting their aunt too, and Sam said they had a lot in common, so they went to some motorcycle show together that Sam's been wanting to go to. It worked out perfectly for me since bikes bore me to death."
"Oh, so cool giant bikes bore you but squirrel documentaries don't?" Carly chuckled.
"Hey, I learned a lot from that documentary," Freddie defended. "Like did you know-"
"Ugh, please, if I hear another squirrel fact I'm gonna go find a squirrel and throw it at you," Carly moaned.
"Fine," Freddie shrugged as he sat down at the computer. "But don't come crying to me when-Hey! Guess what?"
"What?" Carly asked, taking a sip of her lemonade.
"I finally got an email back from that tutoring program I applied for," Freddie said. "And I'm in! I'm officially Freddie Benson: Science Tutor."
"Ohh, how official," Carly joked.
"This is great, I could really use the extra cash from this job," Freddie said. "Oh wow, they've already scheduled my first appointment for tomorrow at four."
"Okay, but do you think you'll be done by five?" Carly asked. "Because that's when we need to practice that one bit with the lemon zester and the-"
"Hey, hey, what goes on people?" Sam asked, walking into the apartment, along with a tall, muscular boy with tattoos running up his arms.
"Um, hey," Freddie frowned, staring at Sam's companion. "Who-Who's your friend?"
"Oh this is Brody, my friend I met in jail, remember?" Sam said. "We just got back from the motorcycle show. Brody, this is Carly and Freddie."
"Hey, um, cool tats," Carly said, clearly trying not to sound too girly and weak.
"Thanks, I did half of them myself," Brody replied.
"So, um, did you guys have fun at the motorcycle show then?" Freddie asked, still eyeing Brody uneasily.
"Yeah, it was cool," Sam nodded. "You should've come, baby."
"Well, you know, maybe next time," Freddie said.
"Anyway, we saw this awesome vintage Dynamo Durix bike that was literally the coolest thing I've ever seen," Sam said.
"What? You said my bike was the coolest thing you've ever seen," Brody laughed.
"No, I said it was pretty cool," Sam said, tossing Brody a can of soda from the fridge. "Nothing can compare to the Dynamo."
"You-You ride a motorcycle?" Freddie asked.
"Sure do, I've got myself a sweet Flarvy," Brody nodded. "You ride?"
"Um, well, I-I've got a nice set of wheels," Freddie said.
"You mean your bike?" Sam frowned.
"That your mom won't let you take the training wheels off of?" Carly added.
"Shh!" Freddie hissed.
"Um, well, I'd better be going," Brody said, looking at his phone. "I've got a meeting with my parole officer. Nice meeting you guys."
"You too," Carly smiled.
"Yeah, it was a blast," Freddie said dryly.
"Hey, I think I left my t-shirt from the show down on your motorcycle," Sam said. "I'll go down with you a look."
"Alright," Brody nodded as Sam pushed the elevator button.
"Hey, order a pizza, will you Carls?" Sam asked as her and Brody stepped into the elevator. "I'm feeling pepperoni and sausage. The food at the motorcycle show was surprisingly plain."
"But you still owe me seven bucks from the last time," Carly reminded her.
"Um, I'll pay you back when I come back up!" Sam told her as the elevator door slid shut.
"She's not gonna pay me," Carly sighed, picking up her phone to order the pizza.
"Unbelievable!" Freddie exclaimed, slamming his cup of lemonade on the counter angrily.
"Eh, it's only seven bucks," Carly shrugged. "It's not that big a-"
"No, not that!" Freddie said. "I mean Brody!"
"What about him?" Carly frowned.
"How the heck am I supposed to compete with that?" Freddie groaned.
"Um, what exactly are you competing with him for?" Carly asked.
"Come on, Carls, are you blind?" Freddie said as he began to nervously pace. "That over-sized biker dude just spent the whole afternoon alone with my girlfriend!"
"Well, yeah, because you didn't want to go to that motorcycle show with her," Carly pointed out. "I thought you were happy she found someone to do that sort of thing with so you wouldn't have to."
"I didn't know the guy was another, you know, guy!" Freddie exclaimed. "If I knew the alternative to me going there with her was him going with her, I would've gladly suffered through that motorcycle show!"
"I still don't see what the problem is," Carly said.
"You saw the dude," Freddie sighed. "Heavily tattooed, on parole…he's the exact sort of guy that Sam used to like."
"Yeah, used to," Carly nodded. "She's not into that anymore."
"But if she keeps hanging around Brody, she may get back into it," Freddie mumbled. "And in case you haven't noticed, Carly, I've never been on parole once, and I don't have a speck of ink on my body."
"You're being ridiculous," Carly laughed. "Sam's not gonna fall in love with Brody just because he has some tattoos and got in trouble with the cops. But if it seriously is going to bug you, why don't you just tell Sam it makes you sort of uncomfortable when she hangs around him."
"I can't do that; I don't want to be one of those clingy boyfriends that tells his girlfriend she can't have other guy friends," Freddie said.
"Well, okay," Carly shrugged. "I still say you've got nothing to worry about."
"Hopefully," Freddie mumbled darkly.
…
The next afternoon, Carly and Gibby were sitting in the Shay's living room, working on homework.
"Hey, I don't get this whole mitosis thing," Gibby said. "I thought mitosis was a brand of toothpaste."
"Um, no," Carly frowned. "It's when a cell-"
"No, I'm pretty sure it's toothpaste," Gibby said, closing his textbook. "Which means I've got to write another email to these book publishers. Last week I read something in here about there being something called the mitochondria in the cell, when everyone knows that's a car part."
"Oh Gibby," Carly sighed.
All of the sudden, the front door flew open and Sam stormed in. "Unbelievable!"
"About all the mistakes in our biology book, right?" Gibby said.
"No!" Sam snapped, thumping him on the head.
"What's up?" Carly asked.
"I stopped by Frednub's place just now," Sam said angrily. "You know, trying to be a good girlfriend and all that chiz, and he's over there tutoring some chick!"
"Oh yeah, I think he mentioned that while you were at your motorcycle show yesterday," Carly said. "Why are you so upset about him tutoring someone? He's getting paid; more money for him to spend on meats for you."
"Um, have you seen the girl he's working with?" Sam asked.
"No. What's wrong with her?"
"She's crazy hot!" Sam exclaimed. "They're all cozy on his couch going over physics or something."
"I'm sure she's not that hot," Carly said.
"Oh really?" Sam said, raising an eyebrow. "Come here, Shay." She grabbed Carly's wrist and dragged her outside to the hall.
"Wait, I don't think we should just barge in there if Freddie's working-" Carly said as Sam opened up the Benson's door. "Okay, clearly I'm being ignored."
"Oh, hey Sam, Carly," Freddie said, looking up from a textbook that was sitting on the coffee table. A tall, blonde girl wearing a very short skirt was sitting next to him. "Sam, you just met Megan. Megan, that's my friend Carly."
"Hi!" Megan smiled.
"Um, sorry to interrupt your little…tutoring session," Sam said. "But Carly got this sudden craving for some tofu bars. Do you have any she can eat?"
"Yeah, my mom just bought some, they're in the kitchen," Freddie said. "I didn't know you like tofu, Carly."
"Well…apparently now I do," Carly said as her and Sam went into the Benson's kitchen.
"You see!" Sam whispered. "She's smokin'!"
"Alright, her hotness is…above average," Carly admitted. "But Freddie's just tutoring her. There's no need to get worked up over it."
"What do you mean there's no need to get worked up over it?" Sam said. "Look how close that troll's sitting to Freddie! I bet she doesn't even need help in physics. She just wanted an excuse to get her grimy little paws on him!"
"Okay…I think we're being a little paranoid here," Carly said. "But if you're so upset about her, why don't you just make some excuse to go in there and sit with them? I'm sure Freddie wouldn't mind."
"Please, that'd make me look like some clingy girlfriend who wants to cut Freddie off from the rest of the female population," Sam sighed. "I've got more pride than that, Shay."
"If you say so," Carly shrugged. "But I'm positive, Sam. Megan's not trying to steal Freddie from you."
"You better be right about that," Sam mumbled as her and Carly headed out of the Benson's apartment.
…
"Gibby! Do you have the paint on yet?" Carly called.
"Are you sure this gold paint is safe for me to put all over my body?" Gibby yelled back from the bathroom.
"Um, yeah, sure," Carly nodded. "Just come out."
Gibby walked out of the bathroom, covered from head to toe in sparkly gold paint.
"Alright, perfect," Carly smiled. "We're all set for our Gold Boy bit now. Just go upstairs and wait in the studio; Sam and Freddie should be here soon, and then we can start the show."
"Kay kay," Gibby said as he headed up.
"Hola roja," Freddie said, letting himself in.
"Hey, I thought you were gonna come by earlier to set up the green screen," Carly said.
"I got a little busy," Freddie grinned, rolling up his sleeve. "Take a look at this."
"Oh my God! Is that a tattoo?" Carly exclaimed, looking at the image of an anchor on Freddie's bicep.
"Sure is," Freddie nodded.
"A real one?"
"Well, no," Freddie admitted. "It's henna."
"Why'd you get a henna tattoo?" Carly asked. "I thought you didn't really like body art-Wait, is this because you're jealous of that Brody guy?"
"Okay fine, yes," Freddie sighed. "But if I want to keep Sam interested in me with that idiot stomping around here, I need to do everything I can!"
"Freddie, you're being ridiculous," Carly said, rolling her eyes. "Besides, why'd you get an anchor of all things?"
"Because it's manly," Freddie replied. "And look, could you not tell Sam this is henna? Or that I did because I'm…jealous?"
"Fine," Carly groaned. "Just get up there with Gibby and start setting up the green screen."
"Yup," Freddie nodded, hurrying up the stairs.
"Honestly, boys are so stupid," Carly laughed to herself. "They're so-Whoa!"
Sam had just walked in, but she wasn't wearing her usual attire. She had traded in her jeans and boots for a short, pink dress and a pair of heels. Her hair was straightened and she was wearing more make-up than she normally did.
"You like?" Sam asked, spinning around to show off her dress.
"Okay, is this about you being jealous over that Megan girl Freddie's tutoring?" Carly asked.
"No, maybe I just wanted to get dressed up today," Sam retorted.
"Sam," Carly said, crossing her arms. "You went to our eighth grade dance in jeans and a tank top. You would never get dressed up for no reason."
"Alright, yeah, it's because of that Megan girl," Sam sighed. "I was thinking yesterday, and I realized if I can show Freddie that I can doll myself up just like her, he won't fall for any of her girly wooness."
"Wooness?"
"It's a word," Sam snapped.
"Sam, you don't need to get all dressed up," Carly told her. "Megan's no threat to you."
"Yeah, not when I'm wearing this she's not," Sam smirked. "So are we ready to do the show?"
"But-Oh, whatever. Yes, we're ready," Carly said.
"Good," Sam nodded. "Oh, and don't mention this whole jealousy thing to Freddie, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Carly sighed.
The girls walked up to the studio, where Gibby was taking pictures of himself covered in paint and Freddie was adjusting the green screen.
"Hey, can one of you girls hand me the-Whoa!" he took one look at his girlfriend and nearly dropped his camera.
"You like my new dress?" Sam asked, walking over to him and giving him a long kiss.
"Uh, yeah I do," Freddie nodded. "Why are you all dressed up though?"
"Oh you know, just thought I'd look good today," Sam shrugged, trying not to wince at how much her heels were hurting her feet. "Hang on, what's that on you arm? An anchor?"
"Oh yeah, like my tattoo?" Freddie asked.
"You got a tattoo?!"
"Yup," Freddie said proudly.
"But isn't your mom going to freak?" Sam asked.
"Hey, my mom doesn't control me," Freddie said. "I live on the edge."
"Oh my God," Carly said under her breath.
"Um, wow," Sam nodded. "Hey, sniff my neck. I just got this really fancy perfume."
"Smells good, baby," Freddie said. "But I thought you hated those fancy perfumes."
"Well, I thought I'd give them a try," Sam replied.
"Oh…well I went to the convenience store today and I threw my iced tea bottle in the trash can instead of the recycling bin, and a cop who was parked outside stopped me and gave me a warning," Freddie grinned.
"I spent a whole hour getting ready this morning. I woke up early and everything," Sam said.
"Okay!" Carly said loudly. "You two are gonna make me puke on both of you. So I'm ending this."
"What do you mean?" Freddie frowned.
"Carly…" Sam said, giving her a look.
"Sam," Carly said. "Freddie's jealous of Brody. Freddie, Sam's jealous of Megan. Discuss. Now let's go, Gibby, let's let these two talk."
"Is this paint supposed to be burning?" Gibby asked as Carly dragged him out of the studio.
"I'm gonna kill her," Sam mumbled.
"Yeah, I hear you," Freddie muttered. He looked at his girlfriend. "But is what she said true? Are you really jealous of Megan?"
"Well…ugh! Okay, yeah, I am!" Sam conceded. "But you can't tell me you don't think she's hot! How am I supposed not be jealous when she's sitting all pressed up against you 'studying'?"
"I don't think she's hot," Freddie said simply.
"Yeah, right," Sam scoffed. "You're just saying that."
"No, I'm serious," Freddie said. "I don't think she's ugly, but I'm not attracted to her either. She just seems like the type of girl that only cares about her appearance and wears a ton of makeup to get guys to look at her. I'm not into that."
"But you just told me how good I looked," Sam pointed out. "And I'm dressed just like she is right now."
"Well, first of all, I'm only human, Sam, and that dress looks amazing on you," Freddie said. "And it's not like I was lying. I think you look nice, yeah, but honestly baby, you don't need to do all that to be hot. I think you're beautiful no matter what you wear."
"Oh," Sam said, blushing, as she looked at the floor. "Well then I'm taking these heels off. They're already covered in my foot blood."
"Good call," Freddie laughed.
"And hey, what about you?" Sam said as she kicked off her shoes. "Are you seriously jealous of Brody?"
"Kind of," Freddie sighed. "He just seems like the sort of guy a girl like you would want to date, not some tech nerd who would probably crash any motorcycle I tried to drive."
"But, baby, I thought you were happy I found someone to go to all those motorcycle shows and places with," Sam said. "You hate going to those things."
"Maybe I'd hate going alone," Freddie said. "But you could make any place entertaining for me, Sam."
"So that's why you got a tattoo then?" Sam asked. "Because you wanted to be more like Brody?"
"Yeah," Freddie nodded.
"Aw, baby," Sam laughed. "I don't want to date a guy like Brody. I couldn't handle dating a guy that gets arrested every week and wants to spend all his money on tattoos instead of food. It would be like dating my mom!"
"So you don't want some hardcore biker boyfriend?" Freddie asked.
"Not even a little," Sam smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "I have a thing for nerds."
"Good thing I know a nerd then," Freddie chuckled, returning the kiss.
"I still can't believe you got a tattoo though," Sam said when they pulled apart.
"It's fake," Freddie told her.
"Oh, well your mom's still going to murder you," Sam replied.
"Yup," Freddie sighed. "I know."
