A/N: Inspiration hit.

"Here we are, Bushwell Plaza, lady and gentleman. That'll be $29.70 please." Rather than try and comfort Sam (it would only make her angry if two people tried to do it – I didn't know why), Carly tried to get her mind off of Jimmy's text by being as quirky and funny as possible. I'm sure Sam appreciated the gesture; she managed to give a tiny smile and a small, tired giggle.

I was still holding Sam. For the rest of the drive home, I had kept my face buried in her hair with my lips next to her ear so I could whisper comforting words to her. I had kept my arms wrapped around her so she knew that she was not alone and that she was safe. I tried to tell myself that that was it, that there were no other reasons for my behavior beyond wanting to help my friend. But I was such a terrible liar I couldn't even lie to myself.

I knew that to Sam and Carly it must have looked like I was just being a supportive friend, like I was only trying to help Sam through a difficult time, and I was glad they couldn't see how selfish I was being. I could have let Carly comfort Sam. I could have driven while Carly was curled around her, whispering to her. But I didn't. I stayed there. It just felt right to be the one who comforted Sam, to be the one who held her as she cried. And I just couldn't bear the thought of anyone else taking that role away from me. I'd decided; it would my job to take care of Sam whenever she needed it. Only mine.

"Come on Sam," I whispered to her, "I know you're hungry. Spencer probably has some fresh ham waiting for you." I saw another little smile, just a twitch of her lips really, but I had to work very hard to keep myself from kissing her.

"Well," she asked, "how exactly do you expect me to get out of the fucking car if you don't let me go, Freddork?" She cocked her eyebrow at me as Carly chortled from the driver's seat. I almost sighed with relief that Sam had gotten her attitude back. I'd known that she would be okay, but it was nice to have some tangible evidence.

"You know," I stated, knowing that anything less than an equally mocking reply would arouse suspicion, "you could be a little bit more considerate. This shirt, –my favorite shirt I'll let you know– is ruined. No amount of washing will get these damn tear stains out. I think you should reimburse me for the shirt, as well as its emotional value." I smirked as I said it. Attitude or not, I still needed to make sure that she would be okay.

"Sure, cause you don't cry on any of your own damn shirts every time you realize how you'll die alone, huh?" I shouldn't have worried.

"Oh Sam, I expected better. I guess you're just too lazy to come up with anything new to mock me with, right? I mean it's either that or you've lost your edge." I scrunched up my face in a curious expression. "Which is it Sam?"

"Asshole." But she said it with a grin. I finally unwrapped my arms from her, and felt the pain of letting her go increase as more and more of her body's warmth was lost to me. I opened the door, and pushed it open for her. As she was getting out, she had to turn towards the door, and the sudden friction on my lap sent shivers up my spine. Beautiful, delicious shivers. I almost groaned before I caught myself. I hoped for all I was worth that Sam was off me before my body betrayed me and made it pretty damn clear to her what her effect on me was. Sam climbed off of me and out of the car without incident. Thank. You. God. I climbed out right after her, and went to get my bags.

"Hey, Freddie?" I rarely ever saw Sam uncertain, but I guess the amount of emotional upheaval she had to deal with would cause some inconsistencies. "I just, uh…I just wanted to um – I just wanted to tell you...if you ever tell anyone I sat on your lap and cried like a pathetic little girl, I swear to Hell that I will shove the Shay's Christmas tree up your ass." I almost laughed at the resolute nod she gave me as she finished her threat. It almost looked like she was trying to convince herself, instead of me, that she meant what she said.

"Sam," I told her, "I would never say anything to anyone about you beyond how much you eat, how vicious you are, or how great a person you are. What happened in that car is just between you, me, Carly and Spots." I left unsaid why I'd do that. I'm sure she thought it must only be because we were friends, and she was right…mostly. Even if I didn't have romantic feelings for Sam, I would never betray her trust in me, but because I did have those feelings for her, I valued her trust so much more. I would probably beat anyone who did betray her. Like Jimmy.

Sam looked at me expectantly; the routine for these sort of deep, heart-to-heart conversations we'd had over the years dictated that I insert some lame sarcastic remark to keep some semblance of our rivalry.

"Besides, why would I intentionaly tell people that I let Sam Puckett sit on my lap and cry all over me?" After a second we both smiled. In truth, though Sam smiled because I had kept the routine, I smiled because of how Sam looked when she smiled.

"Spots, no!" Sam and I turned around and saw Carly trying to pull Spots off of a poodle. I was glad. I had spent hours defending Spots' right to his balls. Carly had reluctantly agreed to leave him alone, but as punishment I had been forced to endure Carly's indignant accusations that Spots' actions were all my fault.

"I'm so sorry!" The other dog's owner, an aggressive looking, overweight middle-aged woman, glared at Carly as she desperately tried to keep Spots from running loose. "Spots! Let's go!" Sam and I started laughing. We could have gone over and helped Carly, and we would, but it was always funny when Spots did something like that, and Sam and I liked to enjoy those moments.

"Okay, I have to thank you for that," Sam said between bouts of laughter. She always did have to thank me when Spots pulled another of his hormone-fueled antics. "If it weren't for you, he'd be passive and calm and boring. Oh God, that's hilarious."

"You're welcome," I responded graciously. "If I could go back and change it, I woudn't. No male, from any species, deserves to have his balls cut off."

"Oh, I don't know. There's a few guys I wouldn't mind seeing get castrated." Jimmy's face popped into my head and I had to agree.

"Maybe your right. Alright, let's go help Carly out." We crossed the street and reached Carly the second she lost her grip on Spots. He went right for the poodle. The only problem was that the owner was in his way. The owner had a second to look enraged before Spots rammed into her in his mad dash for the poodle. Sam ran forward and grabbed Spots by the collar with one hand like she'd done dozens of times before, reached into her back pocket with the other and pulled out a piece of beef jerky. She stuck the hunk of dried meat in front of Spots' nose, and almost immediately, Spots' attention on the poodle was gone. This wasn't new; his appetite rivaled Sam's on most days. We managed to get away free and clear.

"God, Freddie!" Carly's rant came right on time. "I can't believe I let you talk me into not neutering Spots! Every other day he tries to hump some random dog!" I had no doubt that she could go on for a half hour nonstop, but I really didn't want to endure it again.

"Carly, I know it's a hassle and I am sorry you have to deal with Spots' behavior on my account. Look, why don't I bring him up to your apartment? You and Sam go ahead." Sam smirked at my solemn demeanor, no doubt planning to mock me for being "Carly's nutless lapdog." I wouldn't mind it when she did. Any moment she spent not moping over that dick Jimmy was a good one.

"Alright. Here." Carly handed Spots' leash over and went inside with Sam. I opened my duffel bag, dug around for a bit and pulled out a pair of sunglasses and a collapsible cane. I put the sunglasses and duffeel bag on, assembled the cane and stepped inside.

"No! No dogs allow-!" It's as far as Lewbert got before he saw the cane. I had been "blind" in front of Lewbert since Junior year. It was the easist way to get Spots up without too much hassle.

"I'm sorry?" I endeavored to sound innocent and confused. I saw Lewbert grimace through my sunglasses.

"Nothing kid. Just get you ass up to your apartment."

"Oh, okay. Happy Holidays." Without wasting anymore time, Spots and I made our way upstairs. I took the sunglasses off and put the cane away as soon as we were out of sight. "Good job, Spots. He didn't suspect a thing." I rubbed his neck as we went along. When we reached our floor, I immedietly heard Sam angrily berating someone. I rushed towards the sound; just as I turned the corner I saw them. Sam and Carly were facing Sam's new ex.

Jimmy, tall and muscle bound with short, spiked and bleached hair, was standing a couple feet in front of Sam as she screamed obscenities at him. He had his thick arms crossed and his jaw was clenched as if he was inches from losing his temper.

"Even after all that bullshit, I still took you back, you steroid popping, retarded SHIT!! And what do I get in return?! What do you do with your Goddammned second chance?! You get drunk, fuck my roommate, take a picture of it and SEND IT TO ME IN A MOTHERFUCKING TEXT!!!" I was pissed off on Sam's behalf over what Jimmy had done, but I also felt a dark glee that he'd screwed up so badly. "AND WHAT DID THE TEXT SAY?! It said 'Sorry babe. Found someone better. See'ya.' AND NOW YOU HAVE THE GALL TO ASK ME TO TAKE YOU BACK?! YOU DIRTY, RAT FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!!" There were no tears in Sam's eyes, no sign that she cared about the person in front of her, only rage, hate, and disgust. As much as I enjoyed seeing Jimmy get bitched out, I hated seeing Sam like that. I remebered the car ride and couldn't forget the immense amount of pain that he'd caused her; I couldn't really enjoy Sam screaming at him anymore. As I tried to decide what to do, Jimmy interrupted Sam's tirade.

"Look Sammy," he began. I guess he was trying to sound appeasing, loving, and remorseful, but it sounded condescending to me. "What happened with Leslie was a mistake. You know that I only love you. We're meant to be, babe. Now, stop this nonsense and come with me. I'll take you out to dinner and we can talk. Please?" The "please" was tacked on at the end, as if it were a pointless nicety. He reached an arm out to grab her by the elbow when a couple things happened.

Spots started growling. It was quiet, but still menacing. I guess Spots doesn't like Jimmy or whatever shit he's selling, I thought. Good dog. The more important –and scary– thing though, was Sam's reaction. Her expression went cold. There was no sign of recognition in her face. Her eyes were dead, disinterested. My breath hitched. I could only pray she never looked at me like that; I could only pray that I never did anything stupid enough to have her look at me like that.

"Don't touch me." Her tone was as cold and flat as her eyes were. "Leave."

Jimmy had to be the stupidest guy I'd ever seen. When Sam's voice went that quiet, he grinned as if he'd won. He didn't realize that it was better if Sam was screaming; at least then she cared (sure, she only cared about causing that person pain, but it was something). When she went quiet, she was done. No matter what anyone else said or did, she would never change her opinion; Jimmy was nothing to her; would never again be anything more to her than a name, a face, and spoiled memories. And he didn't see that. To him, the quiet tone of her voice meant defeat and, soon enough, acquiescense.

"Come on, Sammy," he cooed in that fake, condescending voice. He gave her a slimy, lecherous smile that I'm sure he meant to be smoldering. "Let's get you some ham and head on over to my place. I want us to talk."

"I'm done talking, Jimmy. Go. Leave." A quiet, unemotional Sam was a thousand times more terrifying than an angry, loud and violent Sam. Jimmy finally realized that she wasn't going with him, but rather than make him give up, this knowledge seemed to fuel him to further stupidities.

"Let's go Sammy." His voice became cold, hard, and quiet, but it paled in comparison to the icy quality of Sam's. I saw his grip on Sam's elbow tighten. I could not let the situation keep going.

"Let her go and leave." My voice startled all three of them. They had not seen or heard me arrive. Even Spots had not been growling loud enough to be heard. Jimmy let go of Sam, turned around and gave me a once over. It didn't look like he was impressed with what he saw. I could hardly have cared less what that idiot thought of me.

"Why don't you mind your own damn fucking business?" He looked tough enough; his entire posture screamed that he was a threat, but I just wasn't afraid. It was Quiet Sam that I was scared of.

"What you say and do to my friend is my business, asswipe. Let go of her and leave." I looked him straight in the eye so he would know how little I thought of him and his whole act.

"Look, you little bastard. Back the fuck off or I will end you." I moved the few feet necessary so that I was standing next to Sam and Carly. Spots growled louder the closer he got to Jimmy.

"Leave. Like Sam told you to."

"What goes on between me and my lady ain't none of your business. Now step the fuck off, bitch. Sammy, let's go."

"Jimmy, get this through your head. The only way you're leaving here is alone."

"I wasn't fucking talking to you, punk. Sammy we're leaving. Now."

"My friend is right, Jimmy." Sam's expressionless voice drove chills up and down my spine. "You're going to leave this building without me."

"You are my woman, and you'll do as you're told. And I'm telling you, we're leaving." As he made to grab her again, I caught his wrist.

"Listen to me, you retarded fuck. Sam does not belong to you. She wants nothing to do with you. You never deserved the right to have met her, much less date her. But you did and you screwed up your chance with her when you cheated on her. You are nothing more than shit on the street. Now, leave and never come back." I kept my stare on his face. Seconds, maybe minutes, passed by.

"This isn't over Sammy. It's you who's nothing without me. I'll see you around. Promise." With a final glare in my direction, he turned away and left. Arguing with that idiot fuck made me realize something. I didn't care what I had to do, or how many other fights I had to win. I would get Sam to see that only I deserved to be with her. No one else.

"Woah." Sam's surprised expression threw me off. But I was infinitely grateful that she looked like herself again; the flat eyes and tone were gone.

"What?"

"You just, like…shot hate at him from your eyes till he left."

"What?"

"She's right. I've never seen a stare down that violent before, and I'm Sam's best friend."

"Yeah, it looked like you were on the verge of beating the bastard into a coma. Or worse." There was something approaching awe in her voice. I liked it.

"It's not like he doesn't fucking deserve it," I told them honestly. They chuckled in response.

"Thanks, you know…for standing up for me and stuff." Sam stepped forward and hugged me for a second. I had to fight myself so I wouldn't do anything inappropriate as I hugged her back. I almost fucked up royally though, when Sam whispered something else to me.

"That was the sexiest and single most amazing thing I've ever seen." And when she pulled away, she had a tight lipped, crooked smile and bright mischevious eyes. Sweet Jesus, I thought, she's gonna make me spontaneously combust. Even after all these years, I still can't predict what she'll do or say next. She entered the apartment with Carly, her hips swaying just so, already calling Spencer and asking if he had enough ham for her.

"What are you waiting for Freddork? An invitaion? Permission?" As I crossed the Shay's threshold with Spots trailing behind me, I was not at all surprised by a sudden realization.

Sure as shit, this was gonna be a hard battle. I grinned widely.

I was gonna win anyway; no doubt about it.

A/N: More to come.