"Do we have to take Carly and the others with us?" Sam moaned as Freddie drove west.
"Yeah I guess," Freddie said, "Gibby wants to live the 'RV life'. Carly's doing it for Gibby."
"Sickening."
"It'll be fun," Freddie said, rolling his eyes.
"For Gibby and Carly, since they'll be making love the whole time," Sam said.
"You're only mad because we won't be able to," Freddie smirked.
"It still won't be fun," Sam insisted, crossing her arms.
"Have you not enjoyed the trip so far?"
"Well...yeah," Sam admitted. "I have."
"We wouldn't have even gotten this far if you hadn't been smart and bought the RV for us," Freddie mentioned.
"You're the smart one," Sam said.
"One of the reasons I married you is because you're smart," Freddie told her.
"What?" Sam asked.
"You're smart, Sam. You just don't show it much around people other than who you know," Freddie explained. "I'm techologically smart, and you're street smart. Just another reason why I love you."
Freddie saw Sam's cheeks turn pink, despite her efforts to hide them.
"Thanks," She said, turning her attention to the road in front of them.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Sam spoke again.
"Aren't there a bunch of places with weird names north of here or something?" She asked.
"Yeah, but they're really cold," Freddie said. "I'm not even sure we could drive the RV up there, plus we don't have any winter clothing or supplies."
"We'll put it on the bucket list," Sam said.
"The bucket list..." Freddie repeated.
"Hey, get off here," Sam commanded.
"Where?"
"Here, nub!"
Freddie pulled off the highway, crossing the white exit lines in the process.
"What are we doing?"
"Surfing."
"What?"
"You heard what I said, nub!"
"Where are we going to get surfboards?" He asked.
"I know a place," Sam said. "Turn right up here.
"Okay,"
They drove down the same road for a couple of minutes, until Sam instructed her husband to stop. After backing up to the building, Sam walked up and pounded on the door.
"Yo, Molly! I'm here with my nub!" Sam yelled.
"At least she said my nub..." Freddie mumbled.
A few seconds later, the door violently swung open, hitting the wall.
The biggest woman Freddie had ever seen stood before them. She was wearing an incredibly tight pink tank top, a ridiculously short pair of khaki shorts, and no bra. He could see through the tank top.
"Hey, skinny boy! It's all muscle, so don't even think about laughin'!" Molly shouted.
"But-" Sam covered Freddie's mouth with her right hand.
"Where are they?" Sam asked, dropping her hand and wiping Freddie's drool on his shirt.
"Right here, Sam." Molly said, leading them to a room in the back of the shop they were in.
Upon turning on the light, two surfboards came into view.
"Nice work, Molly," Sam approved. Her board was painted brown with flames, airbrushed hams, airbrushed Bolivian bacon, and airbrushed fried chickens. It also had a heart with "S+F" on the front, but Freddie couldn't see it.
Freddie gawked at his blue surfboard's airbrushed Pear products, MIT logo, and Pear logo. An empty area on the front was left for him to add something. Both had iCarly logos, as well as fins on the back.
"We'll see ya, Molly." Sam said. "Pleasure doing business with you."
"Buh-bye, Sammy." Molly said.
"Don't call me that," Sam replied, kicking her in the chest. She fell backwards, knocked out.
"Let's get out of here before I get arrested," Sam said.
"Again..." Freddie added.
Sam drove about ten minutes to the beach. It was another beach with trees around it, like in Saint John.
"Are we allowed to use this beach?" Freddie asked.
"Relax, I checked all the laws and stuff, and it's completely legal. Let's see how bad at surfing you are."
"When have you done it?"
"In southern Oregon when I was eleven. My mom dated a surfer."
"You haven't surfed since?"
"It's only been a few years!"
"Yeah, and you're saying I'll be bad."
"Just get in the water, nub."
Freddie gently put his surfboard in the water. There were small waves, but the water was mostly quiet. He wasn't looking to do any extreme stuff.
"Try laying down first!" Sam yelled from the shore, getting her own board ready.
Freddie tried to lay on his stomach, but he fell into the water because he wasn't centered. Sam had already caught up to him.
"Like this, Fredward." Sam said, laying on her board gracefully.
On his second try, Freddie tipped into the water again.
"Surfing isn't my thing," Freddie said, coughing up water.
Many attempts later, Freddie had less tips, but he still fell into the water occasionally.
"I think I'm done," Freddie said, defeated. "I'll never be good at this."
"This isn't even real surfing!" Sam said. "Go try a wave before we leave."
"Oh no."
"Scared?" Sam taunted.
"I am not!" Freddie said indignantly. "I don't like water anyway."
"Only because electronics don't like water," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "We'll get lessons or something back in America," Sam said.
"Maybe I'll just display this board, and only go surfing occasionally. For a reward of course," Freddie said as they set off for the RV.
"What kind of reward?" Sam asked.
"A sexy one," Freddie said simply.
"Maybe," Sam joked.
Several hours later, the Bensons reached the outskirts of Montreal. They were planning on exploring Quebec City, but there was a small toxic waste leak that killed six rabid cats.
The GPS was silent, and the screen was dark. Sam drove through the night (under the condition that Freddie would give her a package of Bolivian bacon hidden aboard the RV), and Freddie slept in a dinette, his head laying on the table in Sam's sticky drool from the previous night.
She couldn't help but smile at her husband's sleeping form as she continued down the highway in the far right lane. Without Freddie, she wouldn't have had the time of her life on this trip. From running from their friends, to buying a decked out 70's RV, to marrying the love of her life. Freddie was the one and only man she could have ever imagined spending the rest of her life with.
By early morning, Sam had parked at a MallMart in Ottawa, and had fallen asleep herself. She woke up to the smell of her Bolivian bacon. Freddie set her plate down on the second dinette table, and he gave her a kiss.
"Good afternoon," Freddie greeted.
"What time is it?" Sam asked.
"Two o'clock," Freddie chuckled. You slept through the whole drive to Toronto. I was planning on skipping it, but it was the only place I could find Bolivian bacon."
"Not bad," Sam said as she chewed.
"Don't worry, I didn't take any for myself," Freddie chuckled.
"Good boy," Sam replied, still chewing.
"I wonder why we haven't gotten a call from Carly or Spencer in a few days," Freddie said.
"They called me a couple days ago," Sam said. "I told them we were on our way back. If they had called you, you probably would've given them some specific date we'd have to be back by."
"I would not have!" Freddie said indignantly. "I'm enjoying this trip just as much as you are!"
"Eh, it was thrilling for a few minutes," Sam shrugged. "So, where do we go next, Fredly?"
"Well, there are a few directions we could go," Freddie informed, looking at the actual map. "We could keep going southwest to Mississauga and London—"
"We can't drive to England, nub." Sam said.
"London, Ontario, Sam," Freddie corrected. "As I was saying, we could also come this way with Carly, Gibby, Wendy, Spencer, and my mom later. This is in addition to seeing Buffalo and Rochester, New York. Going through Connecticut is also a possibility, and maybe Rhode Island."
"Why did I get a driver's license?" Sam moaned.
"All the others could drive," Freddie reminded, "well, except for Gibby."
"Yeah, I wouldn't want that nub behind the wheel of this beast," Sam agreed.
"Let's hope he doesn't flood the tub with tea," Freddie said.
-Sudbury, Ontario, Canada-
The Bensons' RV was amongst several other (and newer) motorhomes in a grassy campsite with numbered spaces. A rat scurried across the pasture, only to run straight into a pile of half eaten Canadian bacon laying near one of the trash bins.
Several loud moans could be heard from inside a certain yellow and orange RV. Multiple pairs of eyes opened inside the surrounding RV's. People began rising from their beds, from beds covered in cigarette butts to beds with very supportive pillows. The other RV owners retrieved their "hardware". Pitchforks, different types of guns, torches, knives, you name it. They all had one destination in mind: the 1970's RV that was rising up and down, matching the sounds inside.
*BANG*
A man in torn overalls had failed to notice that the safety on his handgun was off. The entire mob had been silent until that point, and they all turned to the guy with exposed manboobs that was holding a handgun, frozen in place.
"Was that a gunshot?" Freddie asked, terrified.
"Sure was?" Sam said, scrambling into the driver's seat and turning the engine on.
She slammed the large vehicle into reverse, plowing through bushes that were behind the camp space. They could still see an orange glow from the mob's torches. At that sight, Sam made to put the RV in drive, but they were on a dead end road.
"Great," Sam said, flooring the RV in reverse and backing up the road. Poor Freddie was vomiting in the sink.
"Sam, I feel sick!"
"How convenient," Sam said, still backing up. She finally reached the main road, as the mob gained on them.
"I think we lost 'em," Sam said.
"I lost my dinner," Freddie told her, collapsing onto the bed.
"Hey, if I can't sleep then you-" Sam cut herself off as she heard a faint snore over the RV's V8 engine.
"That nub is dead in the morning," Sam said to herself.
The following day, Sam and Freddie soldiered on to Thunder Bay. Sam said Freddie made too many noises in the previous night's "activities", and forced him to drive a good seven out of the eleven hour drive from Sudbury to Thunder Bay.
"Sam?" Freddie asked, hoping to bring something up that he had been seeing for a short while.
"What is it, Fredbutt?"
"Are you...homesick?" He asked, looking at her head.
"What?"
"I'm beginning to miss Seattle," Freddie admitted.
"You just miss all your Galaxy Wars stuff," Sam said.
"Sam..."
"Alright, I kinda do miss Carly and Spencer," Sam sighed. "I wouldn't mind sleeping on Carly's couch again."
"I bet my mom misses me a lot," Freddie said. "We're still gonna have to apologize to them all for leaving like that."
"Are you saying we should high tail it back to Seattle?" Sam questioned.
"Tomorrow," Freddie answered. "I've done enough driving today."
"Still got a little energy left?" Sam asked, smirking.
"A little," Freddie smiled.
-Meanwhile, in Seattle-
"Mmmf, that was so good," Carly moaned.
"Why am I so sweaty?" Gibby asked.
"Because we just had...sex?" Carly frowned. "Sex is exercise."
"Does this mean I can stop running jumping into pools all day?" Gibby asked.
"Sure, Gib." Carly said. "I wonder when Sam and Freddie are gonna get back."
"They said they're going to come straight back to Seattle," Gibby informed.
"What? When?" Carly asked impatiently.
"Early this morning. I was gonna tell you, but you really wanted to..." Gibby made a circle with one hand and put his other index finger through the circle.
"I finally get to see my best friends again!" Carly shrieked. "It's been so long!"
Just then, Spencer came in.
"What's up, kiddos?" He asked, carrying some bags.
"What's in there?" Carly asked curiously.
"Some old figurines I found," Spencer explained. "Look, this one's an Alligator in a Duper Man outfit!"
"He's gonna eat us all!" Gibby said, running upstairs.
"Why do you love that guy?" Spencer asked.
"I don't know," Carly replied, heading upstairs to check on her boyfriend.
-Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada-
"Hey, hey!" Sam yelled as she was handcuffed by a police officer. Another man, who Sam had just beaten up, was loaded into an ambulance. Freddie sighed as Sam was loaded into the back of a police cruiser.
"I guess I'll follow them," Freddie sighed as the police car started off toward the station.
Freddie Benson sat on a bench inside the police station near Sam, who was still handcuffed and in a holding cell. They hadn't exchanged words since Sam's arrest.
"Mr. Benson, would you come here for a moment, please?" An officer asked.
Freddie got up without a word and walked to where the officer led him.
"Luckily for your wife, the victim has decided not to press charges," The officer informed. "You will need to pay the station a four hundred dollar fee."
"Do you accept US dollars?" Freddie asked.
"We do take American currency," The policeman said.
"Here," Freddie said, handing him four crisp one hundred dollar bills.
"Thank you. I'll go release your wife.
"Ms-I mean Mrs. Benson, you're free to go," The officer said, unlocking the cell and leading Sam out. "We'll need you to sign some release paperwork.
After it was all said and done, they were able to leave. Sam hadn't seen a worse expression on Freddie's face before. They walked to the RV. Freddie still had the keys, but sat down in a velour reclining chair instead of the driver's seat.
"Talk," He said sternly. "Talk about what you just did."
"Um, I used my butter sock on some guy, and I guess he didn't really deserve it..." Sam said quietly, still standing up. "I got arrested again, but the other guy didn't press charges..."
"And what if he did?" Freddie asked, still furious.
"I probably would've been in jail for a longer time, and I would've had to go to court again," Sam said.
"Sam, you're my wife now." Freddie said. "Relatively soon, you'll be a mother. You can't keep getting arrested like this, or you'll set a bad example for others! You're lucky that guy didn't press charges, or we might've had to start college in the spring instead of the fall! What do you think our friends would think about it? Huh? They probably think that you need to stop getting in trouble too!"
"Alright, alright. I made a mistake, and I'll try not to get in trouble anymore. I could've gone to jail for much longer, and it would've messed everything up. I got lucky, and I'm sorry. I try not to do it again," Sam said.
"Apology accepted," Freddie said, hugging his wife. "Sam, you didn't have to make that man cry," Freddie said.
"He said that Canadians celebrate the Fourth of July better, and it's not even about their country!" Sam exclaimed.
"Well, maybe he was a bit clueless-"
"-He was!"
"But, you didn't need to use the butter sock on him," Freddie said. "I didn't even know you brought it."
"Always gotta be prepared," Sam smiled.
Freddie shook his head. "That's where all the butter in the fridge went..."
After making a brief trip back to where they got married, Sam and Freddie drove on toward Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada.
"You know, Carly's gonna want us to have a real wedding ceremony," Freddie started as he drove on the Trans-Canada highway.
"You're right," Sam moaned. "She's gonna make me pick out a dress and all that chiz."
"You could probably get her to do the rest of the planning," Freddie said.
"Smart," Sam said. "How much time do we have once we get back to Seattle?"
"We should have a little over a month," Freddie said. "We're gonna need to leave early since we're driving the whole way to Cambridge. None of it's final, though. We received the letters saying we got in, but we didn't actually accept."
"Are you saying you want all of us to go to college together?" Sam asked.
"I wouldn't be opposed to it," Freddie answered. "Carly, Wendy, and Gibby-"
"I am not going to college with that nub," Sam said. "He might even trash the RV before we even get there."
"Well, the RV is your baby," Freddie chuckled, earning him a glare. "We could both lay down some ground rules to everyone, since they'll be living in our mobile home for about a week."
"Yeah, I guess that's not a bad plan," Sam said. "Just make sure we're out of this thing while Gibby and Carly are screwing each other."
"And we'll make sure they're out when we're screwing each other," Freddie grinned.
The couple reached Saskatoon by nightfall, and turned in as soon as they arrived at the campsite.
Freddie rose bright and early in the morning to get started on that day's leg of the return trip. Their next destination was Edmonton. The journey would take about six hours, and they would split the driving time in half.
"There's always a chance she'll blackmail me into driving the whole thing," Freddie said to himself as he slid into the driver's seat. He briefly thought about the reliability of the RV.
The only problem we've had is that toilet leak, Freddie thought as he buckled himself in.
Then again, it is 40 years old, He thought. He gave the dash a pat before starting off. Freddie could only hope that it would make it all the way back to Seattle, and then the whole way to Massachusetts, or "assachusetts", as Sam called it.
About two hours later, he heard the microwave running, and smelled bacon.
"Morning, Sam," Freddie greeted.
"Sup, Freddifer?" She answered.
"Just driving along here. Everything's operating correctly, and it's all going smoothly."
"Good work, nub," Sam said, propping her feet on the dash.
Freddie rolled his eyes, continuing down the road. Sam's phone pinged. She then chuckled at the device.
"What happened?"
"Your mom bought plane tickets for 'assachusetts. This early," Sam laughed.
"I guess we'll just have to leave the RV in Seattle," Freddie said with mock sadness.
"Shut it, Benson. We're driving this damn thing to Massachusetts, with or without your mom."
"I wonder which way you prefer," Freddie muttered. Sam smacked his arm.
"Dude, why are you using the pedals?" Sam asked.
"You need to be able to accelerate and brake to drive, Sam."
Sam reached across the steering wheel to the left control stalk, twisted it, and a green light came on on the dash. She tugged both of Freddie's feet off the pedals.
"This thing has cruise control?"
"I know what I bought."
"Must've been added at some point."
"Who cares. It works, and you were too dumb to see that I was using it."
"What made you show me now?"
"You've been a decent husband, surprisingly."
"Well, thanks," Freddie chuckled.
"Give me a foot massage," Sam commanded, putting her feet in Freddie's lap.
"A guy can give great foot massages when he's driving."
"Just do it!"
-Seattle, Washington-
Freddie ended up driving all the way to Edmonton, and Sam agreed to drive all the way to Vancouver, on the condition of stopping to harass people in Kamloops. They found a place to store the RV in Seattle while they were there. Freddie was at the wheel for the trip back to Seattle. The Bensons needed a break.
"CAB!" Sam yelled as a taxi approached them. The cab stopped in front of the storage lot, and Freddie put their belongings in the trunk. Much to Sam's annoyance, Freddie's mother wanted them home immediately, and they couldn't stop for food. Sam called for Spencer to whip up some spaghetti tacos while they talked about their trip.
"I've probably been here before, but in handcuffs" Sam said, noticing the taxi was an ex-police car.
"Not anymore, because we're married, right?" Freddie asked.
"No promises."
"That'll have to do," Freddie sighed. "I hope I can get my car back."
"What if you can't?"
"I'll buy another one, either way probably. We might still need transportation for other return trips to Seattle. The car we used can only carry two people anyway."
"What are you gonna buy us?"
"A station wagon," Freddie told her. Sam slammed her head into the former prisoner containment panel that separated them from the driver.
"I am not riding around Boston in a nubby station wagon."
"It would be able to carry plenty of stuff, and we'd be able to carry Carly and Gibby," Freddie told her.
"Station wagons are for old people," Sam said.
"Maybe a minivan then?"
"That's just as bad," Sam moaned. "I'll do it."
"Fine, but make sure you get us something practical, Sam," Freddie told her.
"Relax, I'll get something that'll carry all your MIT stuff," Sam assured.
Soon, Sam and Freddie were dropped off at Bushwell with the luggage they decided to take with them from the RV.
"How do you think everybody will react?" Freddie asked his wife.
"There's no telling what Crazy could do," Sam said. "We might walk in on Carly and Gibby doing...it."
Freddie shuddered. "Spencer is probably glued to something,"
"Good chance he is," Sam said as they reached the door to apartment 8-C. Moans could be heard from inside.
"Carly and Gibby," Freddie sighed.
"They must be right on the couch," Sam said.
Before Sam could open the door to apartment 8-C, Freddie's mom flung open her door. Sam and Freddie knew they had a lot of explaining to do.
A/N: I usually tell when I've started on a new chapter via my Twitter account, Dburger62. Same name for my Instagram and YouTube. I still feel like my writing could use improvement. Tell me what you think in a review, if you would! I decided to tone back the hilarity a bit, since Sam and Freddie were concentrating on getting back to Seattle.
~G