Panda Note: 4-27-19 New note, if you're reading this then welcome! I'm very slowly going through this story to see what I can do to improve it. Reading it again I see a lot needs to be done and time is a factor in it as well. I only slightly worked on this chapter, just with some stuff I didn't like. Enjoy. I'm hoping to finish this story by the end of the year. Fingers crossed!

Disclaimer: Even after all the time that's passed I still don't own this franchise! Darn. You should know that Lisa Ward is a real person and is actually an MMA fighter. I don't take complete claim to her, except that she's sort of my character; I know nothing about the real woman. So don't sue me Ms. Ward. My Lisa is my own creation when it comes to her persona.

Chapter One

Why did she say yes?

Maybe it was because she got caught up in the moment or because she'd been pestered continuously, but now she regretted her decision.

"How about this one? It's a nice color." nodded her best friend, holding up the ugliest tint of green she'd ever seen. The brunette usually had an amazing sense of fashion, but this was just unforgivable. It was like someone poured garbage juice all over the dress and then bunched parts of it up so that it was puffy in random places.

"I'd rather wear a plastic bag." the blond retorted glaring at the dress, hoping that somehow she could set it on fire with her mind.

"We've been at this all day, Sam. You can't expect all the maid of honor dresses to be as stunning as the brides, it's sort of like an unspoken rule." shrugged Carly, placing the dress back on the hanger.

"I just don't want to look like a plum or a piece of lettuce. If people are going to see me a lot I'd rather not be too 'loud'."

"But you're always loud Sam." smiled the brunette.

"Look, you go deal with the final preparations for your dress and I'll pick my dress out."

"But...what if..." started Carly but was cut off by Sam.

"No Shay, I have this. You just go get fitted for the tenth time. We've only got a few weeks until the 'big day'." Two weeks to be exact. It made her wonder why Carly had waited on the Maid of Honor dress. Wasn't it up there on the list with the bridesmaid's dresses? It could have been because Sam wasn't too keen on the whole process and wanted her to feel comfortable in whatever she wore.

The bride-to-be, nodded, slightly in a daze and headed over to the seamstress, who coddled her and catered to her needs. Carly was your typical bride-to-be in every way, it's what she had dreamed of since childhood. David Shay was definitely the guy for her, without a doubt in her mind. It wasn't as though he were perfect, no one could claim that, but it was the ups and downs of their relationship and the elasticity of it. Despite short comings and disagreements, they found a way to navigate through the harder parts to really appreciate and enjoy the good ones. It's almost like a test, to see if you have the right stuff to survive as two separate people and as two people who are joined as one. David and Carly had that and more.

Sam glanced over at her best friend and smiled to herself. Carly in love was probably one of the few beautiful things she'd ever really seen. The blond wasn't much for overly-done romances but as far a love went, this was the real-deal. Her own romance had blossomed over the years and most of the time she couldn't believe she was with Freddie Benson. Freddork, Fredicini Alfredo, Freducation, the list of possible variations in his name went on. Even with being together they were much the same as they were when in high school, excluding the fact that they were adults with jobs and responsibilities. That as it was shocked her still, her, Samantha Puckett an adult and responsible.

Their relationship had gone through a few ups and downs over the years and she'd found herself wondering why they bothered to go on. She had no grand illusions as to who she was as a person and knew that she could push hard on his buttons as well as those in her life in general. The fact that they were even this solid was just as shocking not that she was unhappy in her relationship, but there were moments of questioning, of doubt. Carly said on many occasions that it was because of the love they had for each other. The brunette often liked to wax poetic over their romance as though it were straight out of some old Jane Austin novel. Sam just thought that she'd beaten him so much that he had brain damage.

Shaking it off she headed over to a rack of dresses that looked safe enough. She refused to allow her best friend to dress her, even if it was her wedding. It wasn't out of disrespect of Carly's position and Carly didn't seem to mind in the least but it had more to do with the fact that she did not enjoy overly dressing up. She did dress up for work but that was as far as she planned to go, slacks dress shoes and the like. Being shoved into a dress wasn't her idea of a goodtime and that is exactly what was to happen at this wedding.

The color had to be green or a turquoise that was the theme.

Carly's dress was very classy, much like the girl wearing it at that moment. Sam smiled for a moment, stopping at a rack to admire the beautiful vintage wedding dress that the brunette was in. If it were at all possible it made her best friend look more beautiful than she'd ever seen her. This was a moment she would remember for the rest of her life and it was all made to fit Carly. She was the ideal bride and looked breathtaking.

The brunette smiled at her best friend, who caught her eye. She couldn't wait until Sam got married and she'd get to see her in a dress like hers. Then again it would be a bit of an assumption that her best friend would even want this. Sam never seemed interested in the least at being made into a bride.

Sam's hand touched something soft as she scrolled through a few dresses and found one that went with the vintage theme. With the dressed picked she held it up and got Carly's attention. She nodded and gave a thumbs up, followed by the seamstress telling her not to move her arms.

With her Maid-of-Honor dress chosen she headed for one of the other seamstresses to get a fitting and a few alterations.

"You're going to love the church in Yakima." Carly stated while she and Sam were facing one another, two women with needles working around them.

"Why's this one so special again?" Sam asked, watching her seamstress closely.

"It's where my grandparents were married...where my mom and dad got married. Its tradition." smiled Carly, with a faraway look in her eyes. "I've always wanted to get married in the church my mom was."

"You miss her don't you?" Sam said with a sad smile. Though it seemed a silly question, of course she did.

"You do too-you're mom I mean."

"Sometimes. It's funny how much you really care when they aren't there anymore, huh?"

"Yeah."

The two went silent for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts.

"To be honest I hadn't really known her all that well. She died when I was four."

Sam stayed silent as she watched her best friend closely. It was a rarity when she would talk about her mother. There had been one other time when they first became friends that they talked about their families. After that Carly preferred to leave that subject alone, for Spencer's sake. As lively and fun-loving as he appeared, their mother was taboo in his book. He didn't like to talk about her much or even see her pictures displayed.

"Yeah I remember you telling me." she muttered.

"I know that it's going to be a little hard for Spencer once we get there." started Carly. "When he was little my mom would take him to church every single morning. She was devoted to her church." by this time a smile had formed on her face. "Spencer used to love going with her and singing along to the hymns. But after her death he didn't bother going back." Carly's eyes moved to the right as she stood perfectly still, trying to continue looking at Sam. "They were really close...I know he misses her more than I do."

"I bet..." the mutter was barely heard by Carly. "You know..." the blond started. "I'm sure that she'd love to be there when you get married, right up front balling her eyes out."

"She will be."

Sam looked up, surprised by this statement but not at all surprised by her faith. Faith wasn't something Sam held much stock in and though her logical brain wanted to point out the impossibilities of this she just smiled at her. Looking over fully at Carly, she found her holding her hand over her heart. Something inside of Sam switched on in that moment and she felt choked up. Not something that happens to her on many occasions. But the utter warmth of Carly's eyes as she smiled softly, standing here in her wedding dress and talking about her mother; it touched her. She had to force any of the tears that were threatening to fall, back where they belonged.

As cheesy as it was, Sam couldn't help but feel her heart swell up with love for her best friend. Not many people got to see Carly in this light. Most were used to the bubbly talk show host slash journalist. Even her friends outside of Sam and Freddie didn't know all her onion layers. They'd never realize what true beauty lived underneath all of that played up persona.

To change the subject of her mother; Sam thought about her father.

"Your dad coming in for this blessed event?" Sam asked, knowing full well that he'd rush across open waters for her. It was silly to even ask her such a question but seemed like a good idea to change the subject. The other reason for bringing the man up was due to a still fresh memory in her mind. The last time she saw Carly's father was when she was twenty-three and he showed up randomly at Spencer's loft. He never barged into the loft without knocking, again. Sam couldn't hide her grin as the memory played out in her mind.

"Sam!" snapped Carly, though there was no sign of a reprimand. "Please, don't torment my dad while he's here."

"I'll be...nice..." Sam continued to grin like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I don't like how that sounds."

"It's not my fault he walked in on me and Freddie..."

Carly put her hand up to stop Sam from continuing along that thought process.

"I don't need to know what you guys were doing. It's bad enough that my dad got an eye-full. Did you really have to you know, while you were housesitting for Spencer?" Carly ranted, arms flailing slightly. The seamstress tutted at her disapprovingly and she stopped and began her impression of a statue, muttering a sorry.

"He started it."

"Uh huh and I believe you..." she didn't.

"I'll be good, I promise...at least until he leaves."

"That's all I ask."

"So...when's he gettin' here?" the blond asked slyly, causing the brunette to groan and cause palm to meet forehead.

"You survived!" grinned Freddie Benson as she walked through the door of their apartment. She frowned and threw her bag down near the hat rack.

"Did I?" she continued to frown as she threw herself down on the couch and waited for her boyfriend to join her.

"Was it that bad?" the smile never leaving his lips. He took the vacant seat at the very end of the couch, picking up her feet and placing them on his lap. She'd started to wear high heels after she realized they made her legs look 'foxy' as she put it. He had to agree that he enjoyed seeing her in them as much as she liked to wear them. The only problem was that she was still a newbie at them and they hurt like hell after a long day.

Being the sweet boyfriend he was he'd give her feet a nice rub.

"Oh. Right there...ahhh." Sam sighed and got comfortable with the yellow pillow underneath her head. "Yeah it was pretty bad. We spent all morning at the hairdressers talking over different hair styles, since its 'vintage'. Then I had to get a fitting for the dress I picked out. That woman kept poking me with her stupid pins, look I have marks!" she lifted the side of her shirt, exposing her belly. There were indeed little red dots; he allowed his fingers to touch the sore spots. She twitched slightly under his fingers.

After all the years they'd been together his touch still made her squirm. He knew that if it were reversed that he'd be the one twitching instead.

"Does this mean everything is finished?" he asked getting back to her feet.

She shifted a bit and was lying flat on her back, her arms hiding the lights in the room from her eyes.

"I wish. I don't know why I agreed to do all of this. I still have to make sure everything goes off without a problem. I know that it's the wedding planner's responsibility but Carls will expect me to watch out for anything jank."

"You can't just blow this off either, not when it's Carly." he smiled and watched her glare at him from the corner of his eye.

Even though the day had turned out for the better—what with the conversation she'd had with Carly—it was still too much. Her feet were killing her!

"The things I do for people." she sighed and pushed herself up off the couch. "Mama's hungry, what did you make tonight?" she asked, hopeful for food.

"I thought we could order out tonight."

She stopped her trip to the kitchen and turned around to give him a disgruntled stare.

"Seriously?" she started, slowly feeling the right side of her face twitch. "Saturdays are your days to cook. We've talked about this, Benson!"

Holding up his hands in defense he stated, "I was joking, Sam!"

"You'd better be." she scowled and then continued her walk to the kitchen.

Their apartment was much like their home in Boston, minus the downstairs neighbors. They never felt the need to buy a house, since it was just the two of them and their dog, Hammy. The old dog wobbled into the kitchen at that moment and visited his water bowl, ignoring his two owners in the process. Sam couldn't believe how old he'd become over the years, then again they didn't have long lifespans to begin with. He was really pushing the hell out of nine years.

Despite being blatantly ignored by her dog, she went to him and rubbed at his head. He lifted his old face to her and soaked up the love she gave to him in a simple scratch of the scalp.

"Where did the time go buddy?" she mumbled to him as Freddie entered to kitchen to finish making dinner.

"Don't think about that Sam, let's try to enjoy our time with him while we can." he gave her a sad expression as he grabbed the potholders.

"its hard sometimes." she frowned.

Freddie hated seeing her like this at times, when the thought of Hammy's death would come up. It was apparent to both of them that he was inching towards the 'finish line'. Despite Sam's hard outer shell, she loved her dog. He worked his way into her heart the instant she laid eyes on him, he knew this and so did she.

"Hammy is too stubborn to go down without a fight, you know that."

"Yeah..."

Hammy plopped his head onto her legs while she continued to rub his head looking into his big eyes make her own start to water even more.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye Hams..." she whispered, running her right hand over the top of his head and down his back.

His tongue slid out and lightly grazed her forearm.

With his unspoken reply, he lifted his rump off the tile floor and started for their bedroom.

"Come on Sam, let's eat." Freddie called as he grabbed two plates and started placing food onto them.

"You don't have to tell me twice!" she jumped up and rushed after him.

Later on that night they began their nightly rituals of brushing their teeth and getting into their pajamas. Sam sighed and ran a hand through her blond curls. The past month had just been so stressful and she wasn't the one getting married on the tenth of October.

The thought of marriage reminded her of what she had agreed to almost a month and a half before. She was planning on marrying Freddie Benson, someone she thought she'd never even be dating. That was so long ago though, now it just seemed so natural to be with the guy. He still could be a nerd but it was endearing most times.

Placing her rinsed off toothbrush back into its holder, she ran a brush once more through her hair and headed back into their bedroom. Freddie sat on his side of the bed with a book opened. Hammy had given up on trying to get into their bed a few years before and resigned to his own.

The moment Sam stepped outside of the bathroom Freddie looked up and smiled that boyish smile that pulled at her heartstrings.

"Hey." she said, smiling coyly.

"Hey." he replied, feeling suddenly hot under the collar of his white t-shirt. He knew that look so well and by God he loved it.

She seemed to glide across the carpet to their bed with grace, something not associated with the blond.

"PG-13 or NC-17?" she asked with a grin.

He couldn't hold back the laugh bubbling up in his chest as she practically threw the book out of his hands and flicked off the light on the nightstand.

Spencer Shay, a man, an artist. He internally laughed at how it sounded in his head. All he needed was an awesome super hero pose and he'd be set.

He grinned as he splatted on more circular noodles to the sculpture before him. It was an amazing feeling, being in the moment of a masterpiece. All the adrenaline rushing through him, trying to reach the finish line. He'd always felt like this when it came to his craft, but something was definitely different about what he created. There was a new passion to each detail. A new breath, inside of his art.

It was because of Lisa.

Someone pulled back the blinds to his creativity and let the sun shine through. This wasn't the only reason he loved Lisa so much, not just because she inspired him. He never realized there was such a thing as a normal relationship. Somewhere down the line he was close to giving up on the female species. All the women he'd been with were far too crazy for his taste. He knew he was far from normal; he could accept that but there had to be a balance.

It seemed that it was far too much work to try to be whatever they expected of him. There was no reason for him to change who he was as a person and to find someone accepting of this was beyond amazing. It was stellar to have a partner in crime, someone to jump at a dime with him and his whims. She didn't question his oddities and seemed to just love him more for them. It was a rare find that he had no intention of letting go of.

He sighed and started to drift off into thoughts of the woman just upstairs, working in her own 'studio'. His musings would have continued if not for the ringing of the doorbell. He answered the door covered in what looked like Spaghetti-O's; from head to toe, Sam thought at least. With Spencer it could be just about anything.

"I don't even want to know, Spence." Sam put her hands up and shook her head as she passed him.

He looked down at himself and sighed, most people would think he was crazy. Sam didn't care at all; she was too used to his bizarre behavior at this point.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something..." he started but it didn't seem as though she was listening to him at all as she dug through his well-stocked fridge.

Some things never changed.

"I came over to see if Lisa could help me out with something..." she stated with a nice slice of ham in her hands. "Is she around?"

Despite years of trying to get it through to Sam that she was an adult now and couldn't just come over and eat all his food, it didn't seem to sink in. Lisa hand no problem at all with any of them showing up randomly at their apartment.

Their poor couch had finally given way—due to their constant visiting—and he had to part with it. When Lisa suggested that he should find some way to keep it in their lives—artistically speaking—he fell in love with her all over again.

He managed to use almost every piece of their old couch to build a new robot. Its eyes even lit up when you passed it and talked, usually saying—feeeeear meee—loudly.

Lisa loved it and thought it would be cool to put it in the kitchen, where it could watch them eat and cook.

How'd he get so lucky?

"She's upstairs making vases." he stated watching Sam stuff a full piece of ham into her mouth.

When he had first met Lisa he wasn't sure how she'd do with the other women in his life—Sam and Carly. Sam wasn't sure at first, until Lisa put on an MMA match and said she had fought again Ayumi Saito many years ago, when she was a young fighter—and a blond. She went on to explain how she didn't really have the chops to continue and moved onto something she really loved. Since then Sam has always gone to her to learn some new moves and occasionally to get advice.

For Carly, it was important to know what someone would keep her brother safe and take good care of him. She never had to question Lisa's intentions. It also helped Lisa's case that she was 'fashionable', in Carly's words.

Sam continued to eat in his kitchen for a moment and then rubbed her dirty hands on one of his towels in the kitchen.

"Cool." she grinned and started for the stairs. "Later, Spence." she waved and disappeared.

"What am I, chopped liver?" he asked after her. As much as he hated her coming over and eating his food, he still liked to get visitors.

He could only hear her laughter as she disappeared upstairs.

Sam found Lisa leaning over her clay wheel, completely immersed in her work. Even after five years of knowing Lisa, she couldn't figure out why she gave up her MMA life for this. Playing with clay in her and Spencer's apartment.

Shaking her head she entered their old iCarly studio.

"Hey Sam-o." Lisa stated, not looking up.

"How do you always know it's me?" the blond asked.

"Everyone has a different sounding walk when you come up the stairs. Carly's are gentle and slow. Freddie's are heavier but at a medium pace. Spencer practically runs up the stairs and jumps over a few steps. You my dear are much like Spencer, except you avoid the running."

"Impressive." Sam smirked and took the seat across from the older woman.

"What do I owe the pleasure?" big blue eyes glanced over the rim of her thick black rimmed glasses.

"Have you ever wanted to get married?" Sam found herself asking with surprising ease. She thought she was going to have a difficult time talking with anyone about this. But with Lisa she had always felt like they were kindred spirits, like she could be the 'mom' she'd always needed. This didn't change how she felt about her own mother, Sarah. But being without one for so many years had been a lot harder than she had assumed it would be.

"Not always." the wheel stopped and calculated hands began to fix random parts of it. Then with a swift sweep of her hands and a thin piece of wire, the clay was up off the wheel.

"Why?" Sam asked, like an overly curious kid.

"My parents were never a great example of what it was like to be in a normal relationship. I just assumed it was how all families were—you know with my parents off with other people while still being married and living together."

"Your parents were swingers?" the blond gaped.

"Yep." now with all her attention on Sam; she could tell that the younger woman was on a mission. "So why did you need to know?"

"I respect your opinion." a shrugged followed.

"Is that the only reason." an eyebrow rose.

"Can you keep a secret?"

Now Lisa was interested in what Sam had to say.

"You know I can." the brunette smiled.

Nancy Gladstone frowned deeply as the blond used a thick sharpie to cross out multiple items on her checklist. She knew that Carly Shay's friend would be difficult the moment they first met a few months before. Carly insisted that Sam be really involved with all the planning, second checking—even triple checking all the preparations. Nancy hated every moment of it.

The deadline was in exactly seven more days, they were all under so much pressure to be ready on time. She couldn't count how many times she'd been to Yakima over the past few months. She honestly couldn't wait until it was done and over with.

Working with Samantha Puckett was like walking through a tank of sharp pointy objects. Not fun at all and you always ended up with too many injuries to count.

"What's wrong with number twelve?" she finally asked, after receiving her clipboard back.

"What's not wrong with it?" scowled Sam. "I know Carls and she would hate that. Besides we're going to be in Yakima, this time of year it wouldn't be the best idea to let doves go flying in a church full of old people." Sam stated in a 'duh' sort of manner.

"If you think its best." the older woman stated through gritted teeth.

"I do. Now can I leave you to the rest of the planning or are you going to go off Carly's list? Her color coded, alphabetical, laminated list." she stated with an eyebrow raised.

"I think I can handle this." Nancy sighed, caving into the blond, wanting her to leave hastily.

"Good, see you in a few days. Gotta get to work." Sam waved, walking out of her office.