Disclaimer- I'm not Dan, nor am I male. I don't own iCarly or Hush Hush. If you do then... Hi?

I think this would be my fav cap so far. Its smart arsey, yet serious. And I love Freddie's smart arse-ness in this chap.

Summary- "Duc? Sure you're not confused with bastard?" Fallen. That was what he was. A fallen smart arse. I wish he never walked into my life. Too bad I'm related to a half-human half-fallen angel. They're called Nephil's. And one fallen angel. Well I'm his vassal. He wants me dead to become human. Too bad he falls in love with me.

My mum and I live in a drafty eighteenth-century farmhouse on the outskirts of Seattle. It's the only house on Plimpton Way and the nearest neighbours were almost a K away. I sometimes wonder if the original builder realised that out of all areas of this land we're on, he chose to construct the house in the eye of a mysterious being that seems to suck all the fog off the coast and dump it into our yard. The house was at this moment veiled by gloom that thoroughly resembled escaped and wandering spirits. As if I wasn't surrounded by mysterious things enough.

I spent the evening planted on a stool in the kitchen in the company of ribs and Claire, our housekeeper. My mum works for some company and always has to go to somewhere in the world, so I rarely see her. She hires Claire to cook and clean our house while mum was away, but i also think she gets paid more to look after me.

"How was school?" she asked with a slight British accent. She was standing at the sink, scrubbing an old lasagna off a dish.

"I have a new biology partner."

"That good or bad?"

"Carly was my old partner."

"Extremely bad then."

I laughed in agreement.

"Tell me about your new partner?"

"He's tall, dark and beyond annoying." And eerily closed off. Freddie's eyes were like a pot of chocolate. Taking in everything. But not letting anything out. Not that I wanted to get to know him. I wanted to know how to get rid of him. Since what I had seen on the surface, it didn't seem like I wanted to know what was on the inside. Not like there would be more on the inside. "Like Carly mixed with a Missy."

But I knew I was lying. I liked a lot of what I had seen. Long, lean muscles down his arms, broad but relaxed shoulders, and a smile that you wanted to smack him for. Part playful, part seductive. I was in an uneasy alliance with myself, trying to ignore what had started to feel irresistible.

At nine Claire finished for that night and locked up on her way out. I flashed the porch lights as a goodbye. They must have gotten through because the next second she answered with a honk. I was alone.

I took the inventory of the feelings playing up inside me. I wasn't hungry, nor was I tired. I wasn't even lonely. I was annoyed at Freddie. And Coach. And the assignment he gave out. I'd told Freddie I wouldn't call him. Never. Ever. And I had meant that, but now I could only think of how I was going to fail. And how I didn't want to disappoint mum.

I went to the kitchen and picked up the phone. I looked at what was left of the seven digits still scratching at my skin on my hand. Secretly I hoped Freddie wouldn't answer my call. If he wouldn't answer my call, I could use that as evidence that I could use against him to get Coach to undo the seating chart. Smart little cookie I am. Ha I wonder if he's even going to –

"Yah?"

"I called to see if we can meet up tonight for this assignment. I knew you said you were busy and all but—"

"Sam." Freddie said my name like it was a joke. The punch line to the joke. "Thought my phone wasn't ringing. Not tonight. Not ever."

I hated that I was eating my own words. I hate Freddie for rubbing it in. I hated Coach and this seating plan and his assignment. Bastard. "Well can we meet or not?"

"Turns out I am busy."

"Lies!"

"I am. I'm in the middle of a pool game." You could hear the smile radiating through the phone. "An important pool game."

From the background noise I heard on his end, I believed he was telling the truth—about the pool game. The importance of this game was still up for debate.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"Bo's Arcade. It's not where you would hang out. Too much drugs, smoke, drinks. Oh and don't forget all those fights and ladies."

If it wasn't illegal, I'd go straight there and rip his head of his body. And anyone else's who stood in my way.

"Then we'll do the questioning over the phone. Two to maybe a—"

I was left listening to the dial tone. That dick hung up on me. I opened that sheet again and wrote more on the sheet. Idiot.

Jerk

Smokes cigars. Will die of lung cancer. Hopefully extremely soon.

The clock on my phone said it was 9:05. I had two choices. Either I went to this Arcade and ripped Freddie's throat out, after getting the answers first, or fail. First option. Tempting. Second. Not at all.

I called my mum and she wasn't answering her phone. The fourth ring and her voice mail picked up

'Hey you've reached Pam Puckett. I'm busy so if you wanna leave a thingy after the thing that goes BEEEEEEEEP you can and I'll get back to you. Later'

The beep sounded and I relayed my message. "It's me. Your kid. Sam? Anyways I just thought I should let you know that I'm heading out to do some homework and then going to bed. Call me tomorrow at lunch if you want. Bye, love ya."

Determined to do this chiz and get it out of the way, I grabbed a map off the fridge, grabbed my keys and drove my Fiat Spider down my driveway.

Bo's Arcade turned out to be a longer drive than expected. With my driving, I got there in 20 minutes. With the map flattened on the steering wheel, I pulled into a parking lot behind a large cinder-block building with an electric sign flashing Bo's Arcade, Paintball and Pool. Graffiti splashed walls and cigarette butts dotted the floor. I doubled check I locked all the doors and made my way inside. I stood in line, waiting to get past the ropes. As the group ahead of me paid, I squeezed past, walking toward the maze of blaring music and flashing lights.

"Think you deserve a free ride?" hollered a slurred voice.

I swung around and blinked at the cashier. I said, "I'm not here to play. I'm looking for someone. Freddie? You know him? No? Ok."

I don't even think he heard half of the sentence.

"You want to go in. You pay." He placed his palms on the counter, where a price chart had been taped, showing I had to pay 15 bucks. Cash only.

Shit. I didn't have cash. And even if I did, I wasn't about to waste it on Freddie. Build-A-Bra had a nice sale on.

"Five minutes. Not back and I'll pay that cash. Kay? Good."

I ducked under the ropes and sprinted to the stairs, which had 'POOL' on a sign. At the bottom of the stairs, dim lights illuminated a few poker games. Cigar smoke had almost completely enveloped the whole room. It was nearly as thick as the fog but at home. Nestled between the poker tables and the bar was a row of pool tables. Freddie was stretched at the table farthest from me, attempting a difficult bank shot.

"Freddie!" I called out.

Just as I spoke, he shot his pool stick out and hit the ball. And drove the stick, into the table. He whipped his head up, and his face showed a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Then it vanished completely. His face was as blank as a piece of white paper which hadn't been used.

The cashier stomped down the stairs behind me, and grabbed my shoulder with his hand. "Upstairs. Now."

Freddie's mouth moved to a barely-there smile. Hard to say if he was being friendly or an idiot again. "She's with me."

The cashiers hold seemed to loosen. Before he could change his mind, I quickly pulled his hand off me and ran towards Freddie. I found my confidence drooping lower as I got nearer to him. I was immediately aware of something different about him. I couldn't quite but my finger on it, but I could feel it like a snake wrapping its self around me. More nubbiness? No.

More confidence.

More freedom and confidence to be himself.

I swallowed discreetly and tried to ignore the queasy tap dance in my stomach. I couldn't exactly point a finger towards it, but something about Freddie wasn't right. He wasn't normal. That was already a fact. But something about him, the way he looked, acted and thought, something about him was dangerous.

"Sorry 'bout the hang up," he said coming up to me. "Receptions and down here equals hatred I swear."

"Bull bloody shit."

With a slight tilt to his head, Freddie motioned to the other that this game was finished and that they should leave. No one looked happy but oh well. Not my problem. It wasn't like I told Coach to make me partner up with Freddie.

"Eight ball?" I asked him, raising my eyebrows, trying to look like I knew the place. I wanted to make it look like I was utterly and completely sure of myself and where I was. I wouldn't hang out here. Point to Freddie. But it wasn't like I was going to bolt for the doors and run home to mummy. "How high are the stakes?"

"We don't play for money."

I set my paper and pen on the table and hopped up onto it. "Too bad. I was going to bet all my cash against you. Anyways. A few questions to ask you."

"Douche bag? I'm sure Coach won't like that."

"He can deal with it himself. As long as this assignment is done he can't complain."

"Cigars?"

"Oh yeah. How many a night? Five? Or maybe a little less. Two? Maybe three?"

"No cigars. Not cigarettes. I don't smoke."

"Mm-hmm." While writing 'definitely cigars' I accidently knocked the purple ball.

"You're messing up the game," he said, with a smile.

"Hopefully not in your favour. Biggest dream?"

"To kiss you."

"Hilarious. Implied sarcasm by the way."

"Point but it did make you blush."

I shrugged to reply his comment. "Do you work?"

"I bus tables at Groovy Smoothie. Best smoothies in town."

"What religion you follow?"

"No religion. Cult."

"Ahhhh. So you're a fan-boy of twilight. Suck blood of those poor twihards I see."

"Nope. But I am in need of a female sacrifice. I'd planned on luring her to me first but I see your ready now."

"Yeah. You're not luring or impressing me. Learn new pick up lines."

"Snap. That was my best one as well."

"Carly told me you're in all high classes. But not biology. You failed too much? Once? Twice?"

"She is not my spokeswoman. This Carly person."

"Ah so you have failed."

"I'm telling you I didn't go to school last year."

"You were truant?"

"Secret one. Never been to school. Secret two. It's not as dull as everyone says."

He was lying. Everyone was forced to school. Even me.

"You think I'm lying."

"You've never been to school eh? If that's true what made you come this year?"

"You."

"That is not a real answer."

"Your eyes Sam. Those cold, greyish blue-ish coloured eyes are surprisingly irresistible. And that killer curvy mouth. I could be in heaven again right now." He had tilted his head, like he was studying some piece of art.

"Stop looking at me like I'm a horse."

"You're worth much, much more than any racing horse."

"Ok. No more 'horsing around'. I'm out."

We both know those words weren't true.

"You seem to know a lot about me. WAY more then you should. You know everything that makes me uncomfortable."

"You make it easy."

"So you admit you're doing this on purpose?"

"This?"

"This—provoking me."

"Whisper that to me please."

"We're done. Finish your pool game." I grabbed his stick off the table and shoved it at him. He didn't take it so I put it back on the table.

"I don't like sitting beside you," I said. "I don't like being your partner. I don't like your stupid smile. And I especially don't. Like. You."

"I'm glad Coach put us together then," he said. I detected the slightest irony on the word Coach, but I couldn't think of the hidden meaning. He grabbed the stick off the table.

"I'm working to change that," I countered.

He reached for me, and before I could move away, he untangled something from my hair.

"Paper," he explained, flicking it to the ground. As he reached out, I noticed a marking on the inside of his wrist. I first thought it was a birthmark, but a quick second look told me it was a tattoo. The tattoo was of a red dragon, breathing fire, with flames surrounding it. It was only small but extremely detailed.

"Nice tattoo. Interesting place to put it though."

Freddie casually slid his sleeve down over his wrist. "You want it somewhere else?"

"I don't care about your tat."

"Anything more to add?"

"No."

"Then I'll see you in bio."

And with that I walked off.

Later that night a loud noise made me wake up from my slumber. I held still, all sense on high alert. Mum was out of .?docid=19282567town for another month or so, so I was used to sleeping alone, and it had been a while since I imagined footsteps walking down my hallway and toward my bedroom. Truth was, I never felt alone. Right after my dad had died while buying mum a present, a strange presence entered my life. At first it creeped me out, but when nothing bad happened, my anxiety calmed down. I always thought it was my dad's spirit. It was usually comforting, but tonight, it felt different. Like the presence was evil.

Turning my head slowly, I saw a shadowy form stretching across my floor. I flipped around to face my window. The moonlight was the only light in my room capable of making that shadow. But nothing was there. I squeezed my pillow tight and told myself it was just a cloud.

By the time I found the courage to get out of my bed and to the window, the yard below it was still and silent. The only noise came from tree branches scraping against the house, and my own heart pounding against my chest.

Shit.

A/N RAWRRRRR I'm back! Okay so I just realised I haven't mentioned these characters are kinda OOC and that there is swearing. Ha.. Procrastinator unite? Tomorrow. Yeah I'm really good with all that. Anyways If you haven't already checked Darnforth Academy out yet, I may have to be forced to eating you. .net/s/5928594/1/Darnforth_Academy Now there is no reason for you to say there's no link. Ha. Two steps ahead of you guys.

Word count- 2440.

This is Buggy. Buggy says hi. Buggy jump, Buggy fly. Clap for Buggy.

Oh, Buggy died Dx

Help respect Buggy by reviewing my story. Oui? Don't make me go French on you =] Bye cya next chapter. Hope you guys enjoy your week and the story. Any constructive criticism will be read, then deleted. Ha. Just joking... not really. Anyways.