Chapter 6: You Can Trust Me

Disclaimer: This one time, this guy was parked up at Make-Out Hill with his girl. It was deserted, because there had been several killings in the area, but the guy was a big football star and wasn't afraid of anything. His girl, though, kept telling him she heard something, but he figured it was just because she was a chick. "I hear something scraping," she said. He shrugged it off and decided to see if he could get under her bra. Suddenly, a face appeared in the passenger's window. A long hook scraped against the window. "Do either of you own iCarly?", the apparition said, with a guttural voice. "No...no," said the football player, who had peed his pants. "Dan does." "Oh, I'll find him, then."

Freddie saw her first. She and Carly were talking, and they didn't see him, so he took the opportunity to watch her. She rolled her eyes at something Carly said and then shook her head. Freddie watched her hair bounce off her shoulders as she did so, and it made him wonder why he hadn't run his fingers through it yet. Well, it is my turn, he thought. He thought about Spencer telling him to be careful, and he wondered why he had said for Sam, and not for Freddie himself, because Freddie was falling more and more in love with her, and he couldn't see how that couldn't be dangerous.

"Hola, Senoritas? Que pasa?"

"Hey, Freddie."

"What's up, Fredly?"

"Sam tells me you had a fun time last night," Carly said.

"Yeah, if Smith had punched that guy one more time, I swear Sam was going to marry him right there."

"That is my dream man," Sam said, folding her hands and fluttering her eyes in an uncanny impersonation of Carly.

"Guys, I know we were supposed to have rehearsal tonight, but do you think we need it? Matt wants to bring me to where his band is playing tonight."

Sam and Freddie looked at each other and shrugged. They had been doing it long enough that getting by on one rehearsal shouldn't be an issue. Freddie pulled out the sandwich bag of bacon he had brought and handed it to Sam, who immediately pulled a piece out and began to eat.

Carly looked at him. "What's with the bacon, Freddie?"

"Made too much this morning. Didn't want it to go to waste."

"All bacon comes here," Sam said, gesturing to herself. She smiled at Freddie, and he returned it.

"Anyway, it's cool. I was going to see if we could cut it a little early, anyway," Freddie said. "I have to go to my aunt's house and watch cousin Stephanie tonight. My aunt has a cooking class, and her babysitter canceled on her, so my mom volunteered me."

"Aw, poor Frednub. Better load up on pies," Sam said.

"I'll have you know Stephanie thinks I'm very funny now."

"No pies?" Sam asked.

"No."

"Freddie?"

He sighed. "Pratfalls." Carly and Sam laughed.

He had finished putting Stephanie to bed that night when Sam called him. It had taken him a while to get Stephanie to lay down. She wanted him to read to her, and he read three different books, but she kept saying she wanted more. Finally, Freddie retold Goldilocks and the Three Bears with the idea of Sam being Goldilocks. The story ended with her in her new house with three bear-skin rugs, and Stephanie fell asleep.

"Hey, Sam, what's up?" he whispered, closing Stephanie's door. He didn't need her to wake up and start the whole process all over.''

"Nothing, just bored, and nothing perks me up more than harassing you." Freddie nodded, although she couldn't see him.

"What are we going with tonight?" he asked.

"I don't know. I'm looking for something new. I feel like I've gotten into a rut when it comes to humiliating you."

"Still feels like you're doing okay to me," he said, smiling.

"Well, sure, to an amateur, it seems like I'm doing fine, but when you're in the pro ranks like I am, you just have to keep fresh."

"So new nicknames?"

"I don't know. I've already filled up two notebooks with names."

"You keep notebooks?"

"The true artiste must keep a record of her masterpieces."

"Interesting to know how genius works."

"You're welcome."

There was a moment of silence. "So, what are you planning?" he asked.

"I was wondering if you could help me with it."

"You want me to tell you the best way to harass me?"

"I'd appreciate it."

"You could be nice to me."

"Now, see, that's why you always be second best, Freddie. You didn't even put any effort into that."

"Now, wait a second, Sam." He sat down on the couch. "Picture it. You be nice to me. I'm not used to that, so I start freaking out. 'She has to be planning something', I think. Soon every time I see you I flinch because I'm just waiting for you to strike. But the thing is, you never do, and I just start to get really paranoid. Might even end up being put in an insane asylum."

"That does sound like fun. Okay, thanks, Freddie. I'll save that one. You'll forget you told me, and in a few years, I'll hit you with it. I still need something for now, though."

"I'm sure you'll think of something, Sam."

"I always do," she said. "Later, nub." She hung up.

The next day, he walked up to Sam and Carly talking in the hallway again. Carly looked slightly out of sorts.

"What's up?" Freddie asked.

"You tell him," Sam said, chuckling.

"No," Carly said, and crossed her arms.

"Then I'll tell him," Sam said.

"Fine," Carly spat. "I went to see Matt's band last night. And it turns out...that...they are a cover band."

"That's not that bad," Freddie said. "I've seen some pretty good cover bands."

"Tell him who?" Sam said, laughing even harder.

Carly sighed. "Michael Bolton."

Freddie's eyes went wide. He looked at Sam, who was pretty much on the floor, she was laughing so hard. "Michael Bolton?" Freddie asked. Carly shook her head. Suddenly, laughter bubbled out of Freddie, and he fell down next to Sam, both of them laughing and pointing at Carly in a way she felt was completely unsympathetic to their friend.

"Guys!" she said, and stamped her feet.

"Sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Freddie said, trying to get his laughter under control. He stood up and held a hand to Sam, and pulled her up. "So I guess he's getting Griffined."

"Getting what?" Carly asked.

"Griffened," Sam said. "You know, when you have that boyfriend you think is perfect for you, but then he has this one thing that's just so uncool that you end up breaking up with him."

"You guys have a name for it?" Carly asked, unbelieving.

"Yeah, I thought you knew," Freddie said. He finally had his laughter under control. Michael Bolton, he thought, and chortled. Sam looked at him and nodded, laughing herself.

"I'm not breaking up with him," Carly said.

"Not yet," Sam told Freddie.

"I'm right here," Carly said.

"Sorry, Carly," Sam and Freddie said together. Sam pushed Freddie gently on the arm, and he did the same to her.

"Anyway, Sam, did you want to stay over tonight after ICarly?"

"Uh, no thanks. I know Carly pre-break-up. Too many girly movies. Besides my mom's staying the weekend in Vegas with her boyfriend, and I'm going to enjoy some alone time."

"Sam, your mom's been away plenty, and you almost always stay with me. I promise I won't make you watch too many movies."

"Sorry, Carls. No can do. Since me and my mom started therapy, she's been 'there' more, so I am taking advantage of actually having a break from her."

Carly shrugged. It seemed strange to her. Sam always spent the night if she could. She looked at Freddie to see if he could help her, but he wasn't even looking at them anymore; he was staring down the hall.

"Are we boring you, Freddie?" Carly asked, snappishly.

"What? No." He turned around. "I was thinking of songs. Do you think I should request Matt sing 'When a Man Loves a Woman' or 'How Am I Supposed to Live Without You'?"

"Grrr. You guys suck," Carly said and walked.

"Did I say something?" Freddie asked Sam, who was on the floor again.

Half a day later, Freddie stood on her porch and rang the doorbell.

"What are you doing here, Freddie? I thought your mom worked tonight." Her face was unreadable, often a dangerous sign, but Freddie wasn't nervous. He noted, but did not comment on, the fact that she was wearing long Girly Cow pajama bottoms in addition to a tank top. She wore no socks, but he also did not comment on her Elvish feet.

"She is. I drove her in, because I had to go to the library after the show. School stuff. I'm picking her up in the morning."

"I thought I said I was looking forward to some alone time tonight, Fredward."

"Did you? I must have missed that." He pushed on the door lightly, knowing that if she wanted to, she could easily prevent him from coming in. The door swung open, as she stepped aside.

"You're annoying, Fredward."

"You've said. Can't think of any nicknames yet, or you just like the sound of my name on your lips?"

"Well, aren't you bold?"

"Actually, I think you prefer something else on your lips," he said, and in one motion, he bent down and put his arms around her thighs, picking her up. She was unbelievably light. Her legs circled around his waist, and before he could make the first move, she kissed him.

"Uh, well, tag, you're it," he said, when she released his lips. He started to move toward the couch with her still on him.

"Not there. My bedroom."

"But the couch-"

"My mom and her boyfriend have-"

"Your bedroom it is." It took them about ten minutes to get to her bedroom, because they continued to kiss the entire time. At one point, he rested her against the hallway wall and kissed her neck. Finally, they were at her door, and she reached behind her and pushed the door open, still kissing him. He pushed through piles of clothes to get to her bed.

"You're a slob," he said, between kisses.

"Sexy slob," she said, holding his face and sucking on his upper lip.

"Sexy slob," he agreed. He turned and sat on the bed with her now on his lap, her legs wrapped around him. He could feel the closeness of their groins, and he could feel his penis throb. Instead of retreating from it, Sam seemed to push onto his erection.

Freddie put his hands on the bottom of her tank top and started to pull it up. She put her hands over his and stopped him. He looked at her, saying nothing. He brought one of his hands up and lightly stroked her cheek with his thumb, and she leaned into it, but never took her eyes off him.

"You know you can trust me, Sam," he said.

She nodded and and leaned down and took his earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and began to pull it up, but this time he stopped her.

"No, it's not your turn, Sam." She let her hands fall. He could hear her slow breaths. He pulled her shirt up slowly, letting his fingers trace the bare skin of her sides. She raised her arms complacently, and he pulled the shirt over her head. He let it fall to the floor. He looked at her. She crossed her arms over her breasts, and he could see the blush on her face. He gently removed her arms, and she let them fall by her side.

"You're beautiful, Sam."

She scoffed, although he knew she was pleased. "You're just saying that because you get to see boobs."

"There is that," he said. "But you're still beautiful." He took his hand and traced the line of her neck and let it caress down to the swell of her breast. His hand was light, barely grazing her skin. Her nipple responded as he grazed it. Her areolas were a little larger than a half-dollar and light brown. He lowered his mouth to her breast and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking and teasing it gently with his tongue. Sam put her arms around his head, her fingernails pushing tiny half-moons on the flesh of his neck. Freddie continued to explore with his fingers, letting them trail along the small of her back, then up to her shoulder blades.

"Shirt," she whispered, and he held his hands up, allowing her to pull his shirt over his head. He put his mouth on her other breast, and lightly nipped. She pulled her breath in.

"Gentle," she said. He nodded and proceeded to suck softly, softly caressing her other breast. He eased her to the side, so that she lay along the length of the bed. He moved on top of her so that he was between her thighs, her legs wrapped around his waist. He moved up and kissed her neck, still stroking the silky softness of her breast. He could feel her fingernails along the length of his back, and he arched, and she pushed up to meet the thrust of his groin. Freddie licked and sucked at her neck, and their lower bodies found a rhythm he found enticing and frustrating.

Sam put her hand on the back of his neck and guided him to her breast. He cupped his hand around the aerola, so that her nipple puffed up a little. He ran his tongue around her nipple, and then criss-crossed it with two quick flicks. Sam moaned and pushed him down. He took her nipple, her areola, as much of her breast in that he could, sucking at it. Sam rolled her hips against him, and he could feel the pressure of her mound on his cock, only piece of clothing between them. The image of removing their bottoms and pushing inside the heat of her flashed through his head, and he sucked her breast harder, then released it to encircle her nipple with his tongue.

"Freddie...we've got to stop," Sam said.

"Are you okay, Sam?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm just not ready for...that yet. Okay?" Again, this was a side of Sam he wasn't used to. She was apologetic and seemed nervous.

"Of course it's okay, Sam." He reached up and brushed hair from her face, caressing her cheek.

"I mean," she said, her voice a faint echo of the usual toughness he knew from the Puckett girl," if we raced to the end, what would be left of the game?" He didn't answer. He started to get up. "Don't leave."

"What?"

"Well, you bothered me on my night off. The least you could do is let me have a pillow for a while," she said. He laughed. He scooted to the side of the bed, and she nestled against him, her back to his front. Her head was on his arm, and he put his arm over her, twirling little circles on her stomach.

"Freddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"Sam, you're the most beautiful girl I know with the sexiest Girly Cow pajamas I've ever seen." She laughed, and then bumped her ass against his crotch.

"Cut that out, Sam."

"Cut what out, Freddie?" she asked, with false innocence in her voice. She slowly rubbed against him, giving her hips a tiny twist.

"I'm warning you, Puckett."

"What are you going to do, Benson? Hey!" She jumped. She turned her head. "You goosed me!"

He shrugged and grinned. "I warned you."

"Shut up, pillow," she growled and rested her head on his arm again. She didn't sound mad. And while her ass was still against his crotch, she stopped moving it. He let his fingers slide along the length of her arm, and he felt her shiver.

"Sorry," he said.

"Don't stop," she said. So he continued, and as he did he looked at her, the paleness of her skin, the muscle along the line of her neck, her blond curls that cascaded down her back. He moved his hand from her arm and ran it through her hair.

Soon, he heard a change in her breathing pattern that indicated sleep. He started to pull his arm from under her. She stopped him with her hand.

"Don't go," she whispered, sleep in her voice. He looked at her. She didn't appear to be awake. He took his arm from around her waist and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Using the one hand, he set three alarms on it, about three minutes apart. He had to pick his mother up from work in the morning, and he didn't need to answer any questions if he was late. He put the phone down next to his head. He put his arm back around her waist, kissed her lightly on the shoulder, and rested his head next to hers.

He was lucky that he had put the phone near his head, as the buzzing woke him up. He had forgotten he had the phone on vibrate, so when the alarm went off, there was no noise, just the buzzing. He woke out of his haze. During the night Sam had nestled closer to him, so that nearly every part of the back of her was touching him, the back of her thighs against his thighs, her back to his stomach. At some point during the night his hand had gone to her breast and cupped it gently. Reluctantly, he took his arm away. He extracted his arm from under Sam.

"Don' go," her slurred, sleepy voice intoned.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I have to pick up my mom."

"Mith you, Reddie."

He smiled at her. "I'll miss you, too, Sam." He got off the bed and found his shirt, putting it back on. He would have to stop by his apartment before he picked his mom up and change his shirt. He could tell her he just threw on last night's clothes, but he had been trained to put them immediately in the laundry hamper.

He took a sheet scrunched up near the bottom of the bed and pulled it lightly over Sam. he bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

"Sleep well, Princess."

A/N: A few people have commented that they didn't believe that Sam's tag really upped the ante. I understand that, as a guy shirtless generally has less impact than shirtless girl, but I wanted to let some things move slowly. While it may not be a huge jump forward, it still is a jump, and don't worry: Sam plays the game!

Thank you for reviews: december1992, Geekquality, Tbayleyt, kimmyAllen, Moviepal, MissSeddie, StandardNostalgia, TheRockAngel, KarmaLord, Vetiver, adore202, Kimbrely Ella Rose, axel100, twelvex, S. Benson, pos, Cheruth, Daniyell37, alaskan-anime-girlie21, maxiefae, eleanorr1gby, UnderxGravity, myjumpingsocks, mamaluvsangst, cherry4812, Princess Starlight, clarksonfan, xXSeddieXx, and afanoffanfic.

Tbayleyt: It wouldn't hurt to assume that.

StandardNostalgia: Well, we see something happening with Matt in this chapter. Matt, if people didn't know, is a recent transfer from a small town called Plot Device. As of now, I have no plans to have him appear in the story, but, as those who have read my stuff before know, just because I don't plan something doesn't mean it won't happen.

axel100: I try not to write and post so quickly, but I never actually accomplish it. I know if I did, the writing would be a little tighter (right now I write the chapter before I go to bed, and then edit and post it after I get up in the morning). And I would probably get more reviews, because I've seen some stories with less chapters and words than mine have a bunch of reviews because the story has been dragged out for months. But as I've written before, I'm kind of a chapter slut-I just can't help giving it away. And, I have to say, the reviews I've been getting for this have been pretty awesome already.

twelvex: I don't know if Spencer will be setting anything else on fire. I kind of had him go on a fire rampage last story, and I don't want to pigeonhole the poor guy.

Cheruth: Thanks for your comments. I usually get comments about how well I write Freddie, but to get that comment about Sam really makes me stoked. Thanks. Yes, it wouldn't make a lot of sense (not that it hasn't stopped some people) to have two virgins completely master the nuances of sex. Sex can be sexy, true, but it can also be silly, funny, awkward, etc., and we'll probably see a little bit of all of those at some point. Well, as for rules, we've seen Sam has not had a problem changing rules when it suited her.

afanoffanfic: I don't know. I think that although he thinks of Sam as a sister, she isn't his sister. And she's obviously not Carly. But I think you just want me to write about Spencer talking about sex to Sam (I've seen your fiction! Ha).

Princess Starlight: I appreciate anybody who review just once, and those who review every chapter. I like those who favorite my story and follow it, too, but I would never, ever say no to a review.