Pardon me; I'm going to insert some light parts…in inappropriate settings now. You may call it dark humor.

Please also excuse my bad grammar, spelling(?) and tenses :)

Chapter 5

Don't kick the Bucket, get it some Ham

Detective Bob POV

Mark Henderson, a 42 year old man with a list of crimes too long to even mention. If Bob had any say in this case he found himself investigating…then maybe, yes, it was laughable. The woman who sat in front of him was laughing maniacally at the ceiling above her. She looked like the lady in the recent horror movie, except she had blonde hair…and she wasn't that pale.

She'll make a blonde grudge. Now that; that would be laughable.

"You do know the situation you're in now Mrs. Puckett," he told her.

"Yes, I know I'm in big trouble, you good ole authorities are just going to lock me up forever…I know," she said, "I help murder a useless bug, and you're going to lock me up."

"The bug is your boy friend, Pam," Bob said, saying the woman's name a loud.

"Was; his dead, remember," she said.

Bob sighed, "Look we can help you out of this situation…if you co-operate with us."

The woman turned to look at him and Bob gulped. Those eyes were dead.

"I'm hungry," she said, "Get me something to eat."

"Co-operate and I'll negotiate that."

"Then the menu is Ham, you got that detective."

Bob snapped his file shut, "Ham it is."

He got up and was about to leave when the woman called out to him. "Sam, Samantha Puckett…is she alright?"

This woman stabbed her own abusive boy friend in front of her daughter, maybe even had violent moments when she was drunk…she was a depressive maniac…and here she was thinking about her daughter.

"Funny you ask that, she's my next client," he answered.

The woman snorted and turned back to stare at the ceiling slumping into the chair.

"Good ham, Bob, good ham, if not I'm not co-operating."

Correction, the woman cared for her daughter…probably and ham.

The woman was nuts.

He walked over to the next room where his partner, Detective George greeted him. "It's your turn now," George told him before giving Bob a pat on his back.

"Good luck," he whispered.

Bob raised his eye brows and entered the room. It was a much bigger room than the one Pam was kept in…well, mainly because this room wasn't meant for criminals. As he entered, he saw a girl seated by the couch, feasting on chicken. The girl had blonde hair, blue eyes and well a large appetite. She was injured, bandages wrapped round her arms, legs, shoulders, chest and neck. The name Sam popped up in the detective's mind.

This was definitely Sam. He turned and found a brown headed boy, and girl seated next to her. An older woman and man stood by the side. The man playing with the plant and the woman fiddling with the brown headed boy's head.

"Carly, Freddie, Spencer and Mrs. Benson I assume," he greeted all of them.

"Whoa, you're a psychic or what," Spencer exclaimed.

Bob ignored the somewhat childish man altogether and turned to his main case. "Samantha Puckett," he greeted the blonde headed girl, who was now half way through a chicken drum stick.

"Aye, that's me," she said, before chewing on her chicken again. Bob felt his temples throbbing.

"Good luck," George had said.

"Good luck indeed," Bob muttered.

"I assume you would like me to call you Sam," he said and the girl nodded.

"Ok, let's cut to the point shall we Sam," he said, "Tell me about your mother."

Sam placed the chicken bone on the table and wiped her lips with her wrist. Bob stared at the girl carefully. There was pain and hurt in her eyes, like all these emotions were going to swallow her whole. He was afraid the girl might break down and cry, he cringed at the thought. Bob was not good with crying girls.

"Why do you wanna know this? You interested in my mom?" Sam asked.

"Sam," the girl named Carly snapped. The boy frowned and Mrs. Benson placed a hand on her chest in pure sympathy.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?"

"You interested in my mom?" Sam asked.

Bob blinked twice before sinking his tired body into the couch. A small smirk entered his lips.

"Why would you say that, Sam?" he asked her.

The girl was taken aback by his answer.

"Well, because most men who asked that normally wanna have sex with my mom," Sam said.

"Oh my god," Mrs. Benson cried out, covering her son's ear. Carly blushed.

Bob cringed when he heard that, in fact, he almost fell out of his seat. "Uh huh, well Sam, no worries about that, right now your mother is as attractive as a dead pig," he said. Sam burst out laughing, her laugh hollow but loud.

"You're damm right, detective, you're damm right," she said.

"Sam," the girl named Carly said uncertainly, before taking Sam's hand in her hand. Even the boy Freddie did the same thing.

"We're in a police station now Sam, your mother cannot hurt you… you can tell us everything," he told her.

"Everything?" Sam asked.

The detective nodded. The girl looked at the plate on the table and she frowned. "Well, the food sucks."

Bob could have sworn, everybody's lower jaw dropped.

"Ok, Sam, let me get this straight," Bob said, losing his cool, "Your mom is going to jail, and unless you speak, there is nothing that can save her."

"Ham," Sam said.

"Sorry," Bob asked.

"Ham, get me Ham and I'll speak," she said.

Oh curse this damm family.

"Hey you," he yelled at a nearby cop who stiffen in fright, "Go get some ham from the nearby restaurant and make it good ham!"

The cop nodded.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," the girl said, smirking.

A murder case, a mom and daughter, and ham…

"I hate my job," he whispered.

Freddie POV

The authorities called for Sam a day after the incident. Sam, quieter than usual, but just as mean had agreed. Freddie on the other hand did not like it one bit.

"Why can't they just leave her alone for a minute," he heard Carly beside him and he nodded. The girl had just sounded out his thoughts into one perfectly understandable statement.

"Don't worry Sam, we would be there," Freddie had told the blonde who glared at him.

"I don't need you there, Fredwart," she snapped. "I can handle it-"

"No, no, no," his mother had stepped in, causing Sam to cringe and Freddie to smirk. Trust his mom to get some things done…and if there's anyone Sam Puckett can't handle…well that was his mom.

"We're coming with you," she said.

"But-"

"We're coming with you," Carly said, "No questions."

"Ah chizz," Sam said rolling her eyes.

So, they followed her, watching out for her. Carly sticking closer to Sam than usual and Freddie looking at the girl more than usual.

After the incident in the hospital, Sam had been quieter, more reserved. A few times she would make snide remarks that would send Freddie up the wall. Sometimes Carly would laugh at their antics, other times she would frown. It felt normal, almost like how it was before this happened.

Nothing has changed…well nothing much.

However, some things have changed…Sam had protected them, well protected them physically in so many occasions. She was the body guard of the group, the feisty one, the one who got things done. Everything seemed reversed now. Now it his turn, his and Carly's turn to protect her.

"I never thought my Freddie would be visiting a police station in his life," his mother whined. He heard Sam groaned and he turned to face his mom.

"Mom, we didn't do anything wrong, remember," he told her.

"I know, I know," she said, "It's just that I get nervous."

"Trust me lady, this is nothing compared to Juvie," Sam's voice sounded. Spencer sighed when Mrs. Benson started to panic.

"Sam, could you not give my mom a heart attack," Freddie retorted.

"I told you guys not to come, didn't I," Sam snapped, "But noooo, Mrs. Benson and her little dweeb wanted to accompany me to the police station."

'Ok, enough, guys," Carly butted in. Spencer nodded, "Mrs. Benson, it's going to be just fine," he told the older woman.

Then his mom saw the entrance and she started to pull Spencer's hair, screaming.

"Ok, not fine, I AM NOT FINE!" Spencer shouted.

"Mom, MOM, it's going to be fine! We're not getting arrested!" Freddie said.

"Oh the agony," he heard Sam mutter and Freddie sighed.

He took his mother's hand and they began to walk into the police station. There they were greeted by a detective who named himself George. He led them to a nice living like room and got them to sit by a couch. There he begun to talk, asking their names, their affiliation to Sam. And then he got to Sam.

"How are you doing?" he asked the girl.

Freddie could have sworn that was the stupidest question he has ever heard in his entire life. The girl had an injured bleeding shoulder, a broken ankle, some broken ribs…and mental pains…and here he was, asking her if she was ok.

"No, not really," Sam told the detective, who nodded awkwardly.

"So, Sam would you like to tell me about the incident?" he asked.

Freddie wanted to say something, but Carly glanced at him telling him not too. He bit his lower lips. This was too much…why would they want to make Sam remember the incident. It was painful for her, and here he was trying to make her remember everything.

"My mom stabbed the guy 8 times in self defense, I think," Sam answered nonchantly. Freddie noticed George frowning; he wasn't expecting an answer like this.

"How did she do it?"

"Ok hold it, this is going too far," Freddie snapped.

"I agree with him, Detective," Carly sounded. His mother nodded, fiddling with his hair and Spencer…Spencer was fiddling with a plant.

"Bring me a chicken," Sam said suddenly. "A chicken with a knife."

His mother gasped.

"Sam," Carly exclaimed.

"Why?" Freddie snapped at her, "That made no sense at all!"

Sam's usual bored expression plastered on her face, betrayed none of her thoughts. It was beginning to infuriate him.

Just once…just once, couldn't Sam act like a normal girl?

"You wanna me to show you how she stabbed him or not," Sam snapped back. The detective eyes widened.

"Get her a chicken!" he told a nearby cop who nodded.

"Oh, this is going to be great," Freddie thought to himself.

The chicken arrived a few minutes later. Black pepper roast, his favorite, there was a knife placed beside the plate.

Sam took a look at the chicken before reaching out, tearing a drum stick off.

"Aren't you going to show me?" the detective asked.

"Now here, here, why are you making this kid, stab a chicken?" Freddie's mother said, appalled by the very idea.

"No big deal," Sam muttered. She placed the drum stick down and took a hold of the knife, clutching it tightly.

"See, this was his chest," Sam said, pointing to the chicken's breast. "So, yep, he was hitting me and my mom just stabbed him like this."

She brought the knife down hard. The chicken flew up the plate before slamming down on the table. Sam stabbed it again, and again, exactly 8 times, before she brought the knife down with a thud, leaving it in the chicken's breast.

"Just like that I suppose," she said.

There was a wild look in her eyes, a look that animals had when they had just killed something. It sent shivers down Freddie's spine. It scared him. He felt his heart throbbing. He reached out and rested his hand on hers.

She was Sam. She was still Sam.

"Stop touching me dork," Sam's snapped at him, pulling her hands away from his and took a chicken drum stick from the table.

"Is that all?" the detective said, there was a tone of weariness in his voice. Freddie couldn't blame him.

"Yes," Sam said. The detective nodded and bade them good bye, leaving the room.

"Sam?" Carly's uncertain voice sounded, Mrs. Benson was looking at the chicken in disdain and Sam tore off a chunk of breast meat.

"I'm fine," she said, "Anyone wants some chicken?"

Just once, dear god, just once…could you make Sam a normal girl.

Carly POV

Sam was hurting, Carly could feel it. The girl was hurting bad, but she wasn't showing it. When she had stabbed the chicken, Carly could feel Sam breaking down, breaking down inside. The girl was being difficult and Carly knew that Sam was like that…only because she wanted to hide everything.

They had emerged from the police station, Detective Bob and George apparently had given up for today.

"We'll call you some other time," they had told Sam who nodded nonchantly.

After that, Spencer had driven them back home, where Sam sauntered into Carly's living room, as if it was her home. Well, technically, it was her home now.

Spencer brought out some pillows and blankets, giving them to Carly and Sam.

"You guys can sleep on the couch tonight," he told them, before sauntering off to his own room. Then there was an awkward tense silence after he left. Carly had no idea what she had to say? Should she comfort Sam? Should she make sure Sam was alright?

She was still confused; she was still guilty…however she had made up her mind. She had vowed to protect Sam in that hospital. And she wasn't going to break it.

"Do you want some lemonade?" she asked Sam who made a face.

"Eww, no, it's sour," Sam said. Carly smiled, it was a normal response. Somehow that made Carly feel a little better.

Carly sat beside Sam and switch on the television. On it, some random guy band was playing and together the two girls watched. Carly, sometimes, glancing at Sam from the side from time to time.

"Sam," she muttered, as the show neared its end…it was getting late and both girls were getting sleepy.

"Yeah Carls," Sam whispered.

Carly gripped a hold of Sam's hands, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to leave Sam alone again…not wanting her best friend to ever go though anything like that anymore.

"I'm always here for you," she said, "You know that right."

"No chizz," Sam said, smiling slightly.

Carly smiled, before lying on the sofa again and drifting into a long sleep.

Sam POV

She couldn't sleep. It must be the chicken. The chicken and ham. Sam groaned and got out of the sofa. She winced when her broken ankle came into contact with the dining table. She cursed aloud and heard Carly moaned.

Sam turned and found the girl half sleeping on the floor, half sleeping on the sofa. She pushed Carly back into bed gently and covered her with a blanket.

Her heart throb when she saw tears leaking from Carly's eyes.

"Sam," the girl whispered. Sam wanted to wipe them away, wanted to tell Carly that she was alright. But, Sam wasn't alright…she wasn't ok. It hurt just to breathe. Talking to the detectives brought out memories in her she did not want to remember.

"Mom," Sam whispered. "I hate you."

Somehow saying that made her chest throb even more.

"I need a walk," she told herself; fresh air should do her some good.

She opened the main door only to find herself staring into Freddie Benson's face. She yelped, jumping backwards. Freddie did the same thing and only stopped screaming when Sam whacked him with her hands on the back of his head.

"What are you doing out here you idiot!" she exclaimed. Her heart racing. Freddie glanced at her, before pointing an accusing finger.

"No, what are you doing here?" he snapped.

"I couldn't get any sleep," Sam muttered, "I thought I'll go for a walk."

"In that condition," Freddie snorted. Somehow this irritated her, so she ignored the dweeb and continued to walk.

"Wait," Freddie said, taking her hand. His hand felt warm, comfortable to touch. Sam wanted to pull hers away but found that she could not. Freddie had her in a vice like grip.

"Ok Fredwart, let go before I punch you in the face."

"I'm following, whether you like it or not," he answered her.

Sam felt her thought screaming in her head. Feelings she could not understand came roaring into her. She wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, and wanted so much to do something.

Instead, she held those back and begun to walk, Freddie moving along with her.

"Where are we going?" he asked her.

"I don't know," Sam said.

"Oh," Freddie said, his voice amused.

They walked out of the apartment building, the cold fresh air of the night hitting them full on the face. It was dark, except for a few bright street lights that shone bright golden lights onto the pavement. There were a few open eateries here and there but Sam continued on.

Her footsteps echoed down the lonely dark streets. The night sky above them, black with a few purple clouds.

Sometimes, the wind blew past; making Sam shiver and Freddie's hand would tighten around hers. Soon, they turned a corner and Sam found herself walking to a park.

"I remember this place," Freddie said, "That's the swing set that I told you not to lick."

Sam snorted and went to a nearby bench sitting on it. Freddie followed suit and there they sat…for how long, Sam lost track.

The leaves rustled, empty cans and newspapers swirled along the ground, the street lights flickered every few times and sometimes a dog howled.

They sat there, holding each other hands as the night passed by. Sam remembered all the fun times Carly, Freddie and her had spent in the park. The swing set which she had licked…the sandbox where she had dumped sand all over Freddie's hair, the slides which she had pushed Freddie off and the vertical bars which she had conquered and made Carly worry when she had stayed there all day without coming down.

These memories came back to her in bits and pieces. And along the way, she remembered her mother. Her mother before she drank. Her kind mother who used to play with her in this very park. Her dad and her sister Melanie who used to follow behind, walking slowly.

Sam took in a huge breath, feeling her chest tighten. The lump in her throat was back; her feelings threatening to explode but she held it back. She didn't want the dork Freddie to see her cry.

As if he heard Sam's thoughts, Freddie, tightened his hold on Sam's hand. Sam winced and was about to hit the boy when she saw him. He had tears in his eyes and he was crying.

"Hey, hey, what is this," Sam snapped at him.

Freddie wiped away his tears that kept right on coming.

"I don't know…I just remembered all we did here…and I couldn't help it."

Sam gaped at him, turning away.

"Your such a wimp, you know that Freddie," she said.

Freddie's grip tightened and Sam felt her heart warm.

"You wanna go home?" she asked the big dork, who nodded. She pulled him up and together they walked home. Sam too, tightening her grip on Freddie's hand.

Neither of them, wanting to let go.

Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha, woot, and done with this chap and on to the next :D. Thanks for all your reviews, will update soon :D