2a. Noonish the next day, Groovy Smothie

While it was common knowledge that Fredward Benson was completely, hopelessly, utterly, semi-obsessively in love with Carly Shay, at the moment she was annoying the hell out of him with her usual perky chatter. Not that it was really her fault. He had just had probably the worst night's sleep ever. He couldn't make himself eat much dinner, but managed to fake his mom out of asking too many questions. In bed later, he lay awake until well after midnight. When he finally got to sleep, of course the dreams came on full force. Freddie had had romantic/semi-erotic/sometimes wet dreams about Carly ever since he could remember. His dreams about Sam started after their shared first kiss. Up until last night, his dreams about the two girls were almost equal in frequency, but never were Carly and Sam in the same dream. There had been that one dream about Sam and Melanie, but he was still a little unclear about whether Melanie was real or not. Last night had been a series of completely out of control sex dreams about all of them in one big writhing, juicy pile of human flesh. Gender roles had changed at every turn. He shuddered when he flashed back to the point where Little Freddie had been replaced by Little Frederica. Freddie's thoughts were interrupted by Carly's dainty hand waving in his face.

"C'mon Freddie. What's up? You're acting all like distracted boy."

"Probably because I am distracted."

"Because…" Carly made a rolling motion with her hand prompting him to continue.

"Can't really say. It's a personal thing." Freddie took a long sip of smoothie to occupy his mouth with something other than talking. He stole a look a Carly across their table at the Groovy Smoothie and instantly blushed. He'd always been able to act normally around the girls in the past after dreaming about them, but last night's show was just too much. Thankfully, Carly seemed to miss it.

"Are you mad at me, Freddie?"

He shook his head no continuing to sip the cool drink.

"Did Sam do something?"

Freddie choked on the last part of his sip and started coughing.

As she move to pat him on the back, she said, "That's it isn't. Sam did something to you again."

Freddie tried to speak but couldn't just yet, so he shook his head violently.

"It's sweet of you to try to keep the peace, but I asked for to lay off you for a while. She said she would. She lied to me. What did she do?"

"What did who do?" Sam asked as she plopped down at the table helping herself to Carly's drink.

Carly snatched the cup back angrily, "What did you do to Freddie?!"

Sam's eyes widened briefly and then narrowed as she turned to Freddie.

"Well, Fredward," Sam spoke low and dangerously. "What did I do to you?"

With one last cough Freddie answered, "Nothing! I just started choking on my drink, and Carly thought it meant something! Sometimes a choke is just a choke!"

"And a dork is just a dork."

"Sam, please, you promised." She turned back to Freddie, "So if it isn't Sam or me then what's wrong?"

"Oh, poor Fredward. Life getting too hard?"

"Sam, stop." Carly leaned forward concerned, "Is it a girl, Freddie?"

Sam laughed aloud, "As if!"

Maybe it was because Carly could even think he might be interested in someone else, maybe it was Sam's proximity and his new knowledge of her, whatever the reason, something snapped in Freddie. He slammed both palms onto the table, "Both of you please stop! It was just a rough night, and I didn't sleep well!"

Not used to such temper bursts from Freddie, both girls jumped back a little. There was silence for several minutes.

Freddie let out a sign, "I'm sorry. I really, really did not sleep at all last night."

Carly cleared her throat, "Uh, Freddie? You're bleeding."

"Huh?"

"Your hand is bleeding."

"Wha-? Crap." Freddie quickly grabbed some napkins and crushed them against the cut that had reopened.

"How'd that happen?" asked Carly.

"I cut myself yesterday. Must have reopened when I hit the table just now."

Sam smirked, but managed a neutral tone for Carly's sake, "Yeah, Spencer and I found him passed out on the floor."

"Are you OK?" Carly was doing her concerned leaning thing again.

"I'm fine. You know I just tend to bleed a lot."

Sam snorted, "Yeah, you're sure a–"

Sam stopped speaking and her face clouded in confusion. Her expression changed again and for the first time since Freddie knew her, she looked afraid, scratch that, terrified.

"Yesterday, there wasn't any blood in the Studio, and you had passed out after the cut on your hand had been closed. So where did you take care of your hand?" Sam's voice was soft and almost quivering.

"The bathroom," Freddie answered quickly.

Sam leaned forward, "Which bathroom?"

"Spencer's," he lied. And everyone there knew he was lying, mostly because he sucked at lying.

"Spencer was in his bathroom all afternoon because of bad clams at lunch," Sam supplied.

"Ew, TMI, Sam!"

"Shut. Up. Carls!" Sam spat.

Shocked at Sam's sudden anger, Carly was starting to realize she may have stumbled into the middle of something a lot huger than a cut hand.

"I've got to go take care of my hand," Freddie said quickly as he dashed quickly from the smoothie shop.

"Get back here, Benson!"

"Wait, Sam!" Carly cried a little too loudly as she grabbed Sam's arm to keep her from leaving too.

Sam allowed herself to be stopped and sat back down.

"What is going on?" hissed Carly. Her eyes darted over Sam's face which was a mass of confused emotions.

"I…He…I don't know." Sam blew out at her bangs and sat back with her arms folded.

"Answer me straight, did you do anything to him?"

"No… not exactly. Nothing really mean, I mean."

"Sam! You promised!"

"I kissed him alright!"

"I know that."

"No, yesterday!"

"Oh! Well that explains … er, nothing. Wait! What?!"

"When he was passed out or I thought he was, I kissed him."

"Why?"

"I thought it would wake him up?"

"Sam."

"OK, I kinda … might … like him. And after all the stuff I've done to him, I know he'll never like me. He's completely in love with you and always will be. So I stole a kiss."

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday I said."

"No, when did you start liking him?"

"I don't know. It just happened. Maybe after we kissed that first time?"

"You said it was just nice."

"I lied. Actually I've kissed a couple guys since then, and they were so lame in comparison I wanted to puke."

Carly managed to stop herself from asking what guys Sam had kissed, but fully intended to get more details later.

"And the stuff about the bathroom? What was that all about?"

"He used your bathroom, not Spencer's to work on his cut."

"So? It sounded like an emergency."

"So I was in your room, trying to take a nap, and I thought I noticed the bathroom door move at one point, but blew it off thinking I imagined it, but it might mean he was spying on me."

"Freddie wouldn't do that. But so what if he did?"

"It was so warm, I stripped to my underwear."

"Ew, in my bed?"

"Get over it, Carls. I'm not that nasty."

Carly giggled, "I know, but I have to keep up my snowy white image up. Besides you are far from nasty, more like you're tasty. So, so what if he saw you in your undies? He's seen you at the pool. And you have nothing to be ashamed about there."

Yet another strange look passed over Sam's face, followed by a ghost of a smile.

Carly went on, "Like I said Freddie wouldn't do something like that to begin with, but if he did, wouldn't that mean he might be interested?"

Sam shook her head, "He probably thought it was you."

"He knew I was in Yakima. Maybe he heard you snoring and wondered what the noise was?"

'Maybe he heard me?' Sam gulped hard as she knew how loud she could get when she was getting herself off.

She started to get up. "I need to talk to Freddie."

"Be nice. If he did peek in on you, I'm sure it was an honest mistake. And don't hurt him."

As she left, Sam muttered under her breath, "If he heard noises and peeked, he can hurt me a lot worse."


2b. Later that afternoon, Freddie's fire escape

Freddie saw the window open up. He knew who it was without looking. A small twinge of fear in his gut blossomed and then faded. He shrugged to himself. If Sam pitched him off the fire escape at least his troubles would be over. Out of the corner of his eye he saw she had brought meatballs.

"Déjà vu," he muttered.

"What's that?" she asked through half a mouthful.

"Nothing."

"How's your hand?" she asked sincerely.

Freddie finally looked at her, surprised at her concern.

"I mean I don't want you blacking out again, falling to your death, and me getting accused of pushing you."

Freddie smiled. Her tone was light. Maybe he would live through this conversation.

"Mom took care of it. Told her I tripped and cut it breaking my fall. If she knew I hurt it in the Studio, she wouldn't let me go back. Can't have her interfering with my technical duties."

"Lying to Momma?"

"She seems to be the only one I can lie to …"

They stared at each other for several minutes, not smiling, not glaring, no real emotion evident at all.

"What happened yesterday, Fredward?"

"You mean before you kissed me?"

"Err, yeah. Sorry about that."

"Are you?"

"Not really." Sam cocked her head, "Are you?"

"I kinda wasn't there at the time. Could have done without the slapping part though."

She shrugged, "I felt you waking up… panicked."

"You're really starting to weird me out, Sam. You're so calm. You were ready to rip my head off a couple hours ago."

"What's done is done. Carly made me see that whatever went down yesterday was probably not your fault."

Freddie grunted.

"So…" she prompted.

"I used Carly's bathroom to look at my cut."

"Figured that already."

"I heard music coming from Carly's room."

Sam nodded for him to continue.

Freddie took a deep breath, "Then I heard you call out our names, mine and Carly's. I thought you needed help, maybe hurt or something. I couldn't think of another reason you'd call my name."

Sam was completely still. Her eyes had fallen to the floor. Freddie's head was swimming at how unreal everything was. He wobbled as he got to his feet. He walked over and sat on the sill next to his blonde semi-catatonic friend. Hesitantly, his left arm wrapped around her shoulders. He fully expected an elbow in the ribs followed by a fist in the face, but it didn't come.

"I opened the door to see what was wrong. I swear I did not mean to intrude like that."

She whispered desperately, "What did … When … How long … See?"

Freddie pulled her close, "Everything. I am so sorry."

Sam was silent for several minutes then she started speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, "It's called Klinefelter's syndrome. Have you heard of it?"

"No. Tell me?"

"It's when a person ends up with an extra chromosome. You know girls are XX and boys are XY? Well I'm XXY. And I am an extreme case as I have an additional genetic defect which causes a further hormone imbalance. I inherited it through my dad's side, only thing the bastard ever gave me. My real birth certificate states I am male, but I'm not. At least I don't think of myself as a boy. I hope you won't either."

"Must be … difficult?"

"I suppose. There are treatments, surgeries, other things to normalize a person with the condition, whatever normal means, but Mom's got no insurance, and we've never had much money. And while I am keeping it a secret, or trying to, I don't really know how else to be. So, is it more difficult than living like everyone else? I can't say."

"I could say I understand, but we know I stink at lying."

Sam snorted a laugh. She finally looked over to him, and he at her. She had been crying the whole time she had been speaking. Freddie could never remember seeing Sam cry. It was disturbing but endearing at the same time. He moved his hand from her shoulders to the back of her neck and rubbed it softly.

"OK," nodded Freddie in a manner that implied he was dealing with the reveal as best he could for the moment.

She smiled but suddenly looked worried. "You won't tell? Not even Carly?"

Freddie blinked in astonishment, "She doesn't know?! You sleep over all the time! How-?"

"Carly's really modest, so we would always change separately in the bathroom. And I've been living this way ever since I can remember. Most of my juvy behavior is a way for me to avoid situations where people might find out. Principal office visits to get out of gym on certain days or school scheduled health fairs. You guys know I am a master liar. I had to learn to do it well. I have to say though it feels good to let someone outside the family know."

"Even if it is King Nub?"

"Sam Puckett don't kiss no nubs."

"About that, why did you kiss me? The second time I mean, yesterday."

"You seem to be growing on me and not in a fungal kind of way. I didn't know if I'd ever get another chance, especially after Carly comes to her senses."

Freddie smiled sadly, "Like you said, I was bacon, and I think she's over the taste."

"I'm sorry about that, saying that to you the way I did."

"Don't be. It needed to be said. Having Carly date me because she was grateful? She'd end up hating me. You did me a favor. Thanks."

"But I could have said it nicer."

Freddie smiled genuinely, "Then I would have thought you were up to something."

Sam smiled back, "You know my ways too well. I'll start being nicer to you now."

"No, people will know something is up, especially Carly. Keep busting on me. I can take it. Heck, I'd probably start to miss it."

"Heck? Who says heck anymore, you jank techno weenie."

Freddie laughed and side hugged her, "There's my Sam."

She turned to look at him with the most sincere expression he had ever seen on her face. He was amazed at how pretty it made her.

"Freddie, thank you. Thank you for keeping my secret."

"I haven't done anything yet."

"But you will. You're Freddie."

Hesitantly, Sam leaned in and kissed his lips lightly and quickly. Freddie responded with a slight smile, and watched her go.

Freddie sighed after a moment and licked at the coconut flavor, 'When did she get so hot? … OK, now I am gay … am I?'