AN-Hey, Guest…um, I don't really know why I use the word 'upset' as a synonym for sad a lot in this story, lol. I just always considered the word to mean 'not your usual self' in terms of how you're feeling, not necessarily mad.
….
Butter
"Ugh, Carls, I see the light," Sam moaned, lying on the Shay's sofa.
"Well then maybe next time we go to the lobster shack, you won't take the endless crab leg buffet as a personal challenge," Carly said, rolling her eyes as she brought her best friend a glass of water.
"I set a record," Sam said weakly. "It was worth it."
"Right," Carly nodded.
"Hola chicas," Freddie said, letting himself into the apartment. His smile faltered when he saw his girlfriend clutching her stomach in pain. "Sam? You alright, baby?"
"She's fine," Carly assured him. "She's feeling the after effects of eating five pounds of crab legs in under twenty minutes. Spencer took us to get dinner since we helped him finish his sculpture, and, well, this is the result."
"Hey, crab legs are semi-healthy, at least," Sam mumbled. "People always say seafood's good for you."
"Sure," Carly agreed. "But I think that goes out the door when you pour two cups of melted butter on everything."
"Well, I hope you feel better by tomorrow," Freddie said, sitting down next to Sam. "Because I have the best day ever planned for us. We're going to go see the new Karate Lad movie that you've been dying to see, we're going to get some of those Fat Cookies and enjoy them at our favorite romantic spot in the park, and we're going to eat dinner with my mom, and then we'll go look at those new vicious fish the pet store got in, and-"
"Hold on, back up there, nub," Sam frowned, slowly sitting up. "Did you say we're having dinner with your mom?"
"Oh boy," Carly sighed.
"Well, Sam, she-she wants to get to know you better," Freddie explained. "We've been dating for a year, and I don't think you two have ever had a legitimate conversation before."
"Um, your mom hates me," Sam pointed out. "And for the record, we've had legitimate conversations before. They usually revolve around her screaming at me for trying to yank her baby boy away from her, but-"
"Come on, baby, she doesn't hate you," Freddie said.
Sam gave him a look.
"Alright, she sort of does," Freddie admitted. "But that's why this dinner's so important! Once she actually sits down and has pleasant conversation with you, she'll see just how great you really are!"
Sam scoffed. "Yeah, right."
Freddie looked at Carly pleadingly.
"Er, um, Sam," Carly said. "Maybe Freddie has a point."
"Carly!"
"Well, I just think that it's a good idea for you to try and improve your relationship with Mrs. Benson, since you and Freddie have been dating this long," Carly said. "You can't keep considering your boyfriend's mom as just the crazy lady who likes things to be really, really clean. And who knows? If she sees that you're making an effort, she might try and be a little nicer to you too."
"Thank you, Carly," Freddie smiled.
"Traitor," Sam mumbled.
"Please, Sam? Just one hour at my place, having dinner with my mom?" Freddie begged.
Sam sighed. "What are we having?"
"Well, Sunday's my mom usually cooks broiled zucchini with a squash glaze-"
"You've got to be kidding me!" Sam exclaimed.
"Well, just fill up before you go over," Carly suggested.
"And afterwards, I promise, we'll go down to the cupcake shop and get you some real food," Freddie said. "So what do you say? For me?"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Okay! I'll have dinner with you and your mom!"
"Thanks, Sam," Freddie said, giving her a quick kiss. "You really are the best, you know that?"
…
"Alright," Freddie said the next day as him and Sam walked back up to his apartment. "Just remember; no talking about anything violent, disgusting, illegal or high in trans fat. And make sure you chew with your mouth closed and keep your elbows off the table. Don't talk about us making out or sneaking out after curfew, and please, whatever you do, don't tell her about your prison record."
"Okay, okay," Sam said as they reached his door. "Jeez, you sure you don't want to go across the hall and borrow Carly for the night?"
"Sam, I'm sorry," Freddie said. "I-I know I'm asking a lot of you, and that it's not really your thing, but I just want my mom to see what a great girlfriend you are."
"Alright, I'll try and behave," Sam told him.
"I know you will," Freddie said. "Oh, and shoes off."
"You're really pushing it, aren't you?" Sam mumbled, but she kicked off her shoes and set them against the hall wall was Freddie pushed open his apartment door. The second she stepped inside, Sam was hit with smells so putrid that they could only be coming from foods that were good for you.
"Mom?" Freddie called, leading Sam into the kitchen. "Mom, Sam's here."
"Oh," Marissa said, pulling a tray out of the oven. She turned to look at Sam, pursing her lips. "How…lovely."
"Hi, Mrs. Benson," Sam said, plastering a smile onto her face. "Wow, dinner sure smells good."
"Thank you," Mrs. Benson snipped, placing some rolls in a basket.
"Mom," Freddie sighed. "Please be nice."
"I am being nice, Fredward," Marissa said. "Just because my only son would rather spend time with a delinquent than the woman who gave him life doesn't mean I won't remember my manners."
"Mom!"
"Dinner's ready," Mrs. Benson said, ignoring her son's comment. "Please disinfect your hands and sit down at the table."
"So," Freddie whispered, grabbing the large bottle of hand sanitizer from the counter. "This is going well so far…"
"Yeah, your mom looks ready to hug me," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "Which, by the way, I'm not okay with. Ever."
"Just don't take anything she says personally," Freddie told her.
"The zucchini is getting cold!" Marissa yelled from the dining room.
"You owe me," Sam mumbled as the couple headed over to the table.
"Hey, you made rolls," Freddie said, sitting down next to his girlfriend. "You like rolls, Sam."
"These aren't rolls, Freddie," Mrs. Benson frowned. "I'm shocked that you would insinuate that I would serve such fattening food at my dinner table. These are corn fluffers."
"Corn fluffers?" Sam repeated. "Um, what?"
"We combine corn, cauliflower flakes and cucumber and mush them together with rice into a roll form."
"Oh…yum," Sam said, trying not grimace.
"So lets dig in!" Freddie said quickly.
For several moments, the only sound at the table was the clinking of silverware against plates, and Freddie was definitely feeling the weight of the tension.
"Um, so Sam and I were working of some iCarly stuff the other day," Freddie said. "And Spencer told us this funny joke about-"
"Samantha, ladies must hold their utensils as if they are cutting into the softest of silks," Marissa interrupted, looking over at Sam.
"What?" Sam frowned. "I'm not cutting silk…even though I think I'd rather be eating that," she added under her breath.
"You're supposed to hold your silverware daintily," Marissa said, clearly frustrated. "You don't grip it like some wild animal! We use a fork and knife to help us eat food, not saw into hunks of wood!"
"I thought you promised me no rhymes!" Freddie hissed.
"How am I supposed to hold my silverware daintily with these weird cloths wrapped around them?" Sam snapped, earning her a look from her boyfriend. "Er…ma'am."
"Those are hand guards, so we won't get blisters!"
"Who gets blisters from a fork?" Sam scoffed.
"Freddie happens to have very feminine hands!" Marissa exclaimed.
"So this is a migraine," Freddie sighed, massaging his temples. "Interesting."
Sam looked over at Freddie, who gave her an encouraging nod, and she held her tongue and went back to her plate.
"Um, great-great dinner, mom," Freddie said after a few more minutes of complete silence. "Is this a new squash glaze recipe?"
"I'm glad you noticed, Freddie," Marissa smiled. "I took out that teaspoon of sugar my Victories for Vegies cookbook recommends. It just proves that you don't need nasty chemicals or sugars to make a quality meal! Now, Samantha, maybe if you tried to eat a more nutritionally balanced diet, you'd be less inclined to act out in…hoodlum ways."
"Um, mom, she-she actually prefers to be called Sam," Freddie said. "Not Samantha."
"Ah, so even your name needs to be butchered," Marissa nodded.
"Hey!" Sam said, narrowing her eyes as she slammed her fork down. "What do you think-"
"So let's talk about our plans for the week, huh?" Freddie interjected quickly. "Instead of starting something that would cause the pounding in my head to intensify. Mom, why don't you start?"
"Well," Marissa said, still glaring across the table at her son's blonde girlfriend. "I have an appointment with my therapist on Monday, then on Wednesday I'm meeting with my Mother's Against Pop Music group, and then Friday I'm taking Freddie to have his fingernails filed down at my nail salon-"
"Wait, mom, I told you I'm busy Friday," Freddie frowned. "Remember? I'm going to hang out at Gibby's and watch the entire Galaxy Wars trilogy."
"Fredward Benson!" Marissa groaned. "I can't believe that you'd chose robots and spaceships over spending a little quality time with your mother!"
"Didn't you go over to Gib's and watch those movies last week?" Sam pointed out.
"Yeah, but his mom bought him the Director's Cut DVD pack with a whole ninety-two seconds of added features on it," Freddie grinned. "It's going to be like watching an entirely different film!"
"That's ninety-two more seconds of mind-destroying garbage being shoved into your impressionable mind!" Marissa cried. "This is why I locked the sci-fi channel!"
"Dude, ninety-two more seconds of weird space chiz isn't going to do anything to help that movie," Sam said, rolling her eyes.
"I still don't see what you see in that movie," Marissa sighed, shaking her head.
"Seriously, it's just a bunch of Nug Nug things running around while some guy chases them with a light up sword," Sam nodded.
"Oh, that Nug Nug," Marissa cringed. "What a ridiculous name!"
"I know, and he has that stupid pet that looks like a dog but isn't a dog because they're in another galaxy and don't have normal things," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't make any sense! Nothing in that movie does!"
"And yet it rots young boys' minds," Marissa said sadly. "Oh, Sam, I see you're out of soy milk. Come into the kitchen and I'll get you a refill."
"Oh cool, thanks," Sam said, getting up.
"What-What just happened here?" Freddie frowned, utterly confused, as he watched his mother and girlfriend head off into the kitchen together, insulting Proton Cruisers and Sky Nauts.
….
"Hey! How'd it go?" Carly asked anxiously later that evening as Sam and Freddie let themselves into her home.
"Not that bad," Sam said.
"They bonded over their hatred for Galaxy Wars," Freddie mumbled darkly.
"No way, you and Mrs. Benson bonded?" Carly gasped, jumping up to hug her friend. "Sam! Oh my God, that's great, I'm so proud of you! So are you guys all buddy-buddy now? Does she consider you to be the daughter she wanted but didn't get because she got landed with a boy? Oh! You guys should have a brunch date, and then go shopping, or-"
"Easy there, Carlotta," Sam laughed. "Me and Crazy aren't BFF's. Nowhere near that, actually."
"But-But Freddie just said-"
"Eh, we talked about how annoying Freddie's Galaxy Wars obsession is, yeah," Sam shrugged. "She's still insane. But, I will say, she did seem a little less…resentful about the fact that I'm dating her son afterwards."
"Well, I guess that's progress," Carly sighed.
"Which is all I can ask for," Freddie said, putting his arm around Sam.
"Oh, I almost forgot, someone owes me cupcakes," Sam smirked. "Because right now, the only thing in my stomach is zucchini and soy milk, which sort of tastes better than normal milk…"
"Then let's get you some cupcakes," Freddie chuckled.
"Let me just go grab my purse, I left it in the studio," Sam said.
"Okay," Freddie nodded as Sam raced up the steps. "And I'll call Gibby and tell him I can't make our movie night Friday."
"Why not?" Carly asked.
"Because my mom and girlfriend are both harassing me about it!" Freddie exclaimed. "I may be an avid Galaxy Wars fanatic, but I'm not suicidal!"
