Up in her room, Carly watched as Sam walked around her room in a nervous wreck. Sam's face was stone hard, but she kept picking up objects then placing them down as if she hoped she would find some sort of answer that way. Carly was unsure how long she had been watching her after they returned to her apartment, but when she noticed her head begin to bob with exhaustion, she couldn't hold it in anymore. "Sam, stop," Carly ordered. "You need to tell me what exactly is going on."

Sam froze, hesitating before she looked at Carly. Narrowing her eyes, she said slowly, "You already told me you knew what was going on. Why do I need to explain anything?"

"Well I only know the basic idea," Carly responded coolly, warning Sam to watch her tone. After all, she could have been back with Anders at that very moment. Deciding to let it go though, Carly asked with bumps crawling across her skin, "It has to do with Freddie, doesn't it."

After pressing her lips tightly together, Sam rolled her eyes and answered, "Alright, yes, it has to do with Freddie. I caught him with some skinny bitch slung around him and he practically let her lick his face."

Carly found Sam's description doubtful of Freddie, but she was too bubbly to comment on it. She was so relieved that Sam was finally admitting all of this to her, everything that she had known all along, everything that screwing them up. "And this upset you because… because you like Freddie?" Carly had to suppress a smile. When Sam didn't respond, Carly rephrased, "Or this upset you because you've kind of been seeing Freddie?"

Sam dropped her eyes.

"Oh just admit it!" Carly cried with excitement, "You have been seeing Freddie. I already know this Sam."

"How?" Sam demanded, "Is this some word on the street or something? And was Dawn on the street when you heard it?"

"Relax, no one else knows, except for maybe Dawn. But," Carly quickly said before Sam could say anything, "I'm sure she won't tell anyone. I only know because I'm your best friend Sam, and Freddie's. If anyone were to know that something was going on between you two, I would. I've got a sixth sense when it comes to you guys."

Carly finally allowed herself to smile at Sam in attempt to loosen up the air. Finally, Sam let out a small laugh with just enough turn to her lips to be called a smile. Pulling her knees up to her chest, Carly dug deeper, "So after iCarly, Freddie would mysteriously leave and then you would follow shortly after. Would you two go out on a date or something?"

"Uh, not really," Sam's voice sounded cautious. "We'd just go to his place and, you know… hang out… and do… stuff…"

It took a moment before Carly's mouth dropped open. Sam was almost certain that Carly was choking on something until her friend suddenly squealed, "Sam Puckett? What the hell does that mean? Did you two –" she suddenly lowered her voice into a whisper. "Did you two have sex?"

It was Carly's face who turned crimson at this remark, and yet even though the question was asked to Sam, Sam stayed astonishingly calm. "No," she answered through a tiny sigh, "never that far. It was just… stuff…"

Her voice faded, and Carly was sitting eagerly at the edge of her beanbag – if that was even possible. "Well aren't you going to tell me what you did exactly?" Carly inquired when Sam did not continue.

Sam's head was dropped down, long blonde hair dangling in front of her shoulders. She was picking at her nails with extreme interest, although her eyes were staring through a spot on the floor a foot ahead of her. For a second her mouth opened and Carly thought she would explain all, but Sam closed it as she felt herself go light in the head. "I can't," she apologized, "at least not yet. It's still too weird because it's Freddie. I think that's why we kept it a secret from you. We were afraid you would feel, I don't know, excluded or something."

Carly made a face. "Why would I feel excluded if you guys really liked each other?" As she spoke, Carly's words dribbled out into nothing, her eyes narrowing. "You do like Freddie, don't you? I mean you guys have admitted to each other at least once, right?"

"It's complicated," Sam began, but Carly cut her off immediately.

"Sam!" Carly cried, "Are you telling me you hooked up with Freddie numerous times a week without ever admitting to liking each other? Oh my God Sam, didn't you once think that was a little…"

"Just say it."

Carly dropped her voice to a whisper. "It's kind of slutty, isn't it?" She then slapped her hand over her mouth as if she couldn't believe the words that had left her mouth. "What exactly was going through your head?" she asked, voiced muffled by the palm of her hand. Carly didn't move her hand for fear of revealing the shocked smile on her face.

Sam winced, "I guess it was a little more extreme then friends with benefits, wasn't it?" Never had Sam been more relieved that no one else knew about her and Freddie. She had never been called a slut before, but if it had to come honestly from anyone first she was glad it was Carly.

After a moment of thought, Carly replied, "Well I guess it depends what you considered Freddie to be. So here it goes Sam, in all serious, do you love Freddie?" Sam pressed her lips together. "Fine, I'll rephrase. Do you like Freddie, and I mean really like Freddie?"

Instantly, Sam began pacing back and forth. "Ugh, I don't know," she groaned. "Shit Carl, I already said it was complicated. I'm just going to admit that I don't know how I feel about Freddie, okay? I mean maybe I may have liked a little before, but then he was hooking up with some girl tonight so clearly he doesn't like me. And whatever we did before doesn't have to mean anything, right? I mean what if we just did it to prepare ourselves for when we really found someone, like an experiment or something?"

Arching an eyebrow in disbelief, Carly said mockingly, "An experiment?" What she really wanted to yell was denial – Sam was in denial! It was so clear that it made Carly was to explode with frustration, but she made herself stayed quiet. This really was up to Sam.

Sam rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. She then glanced at the clock in Carly's room, which read after midnight. "I'm going to bed," Sam said flatly as she swayed lazily and collapsed onto the bed.

Carly whined Sam's name, wishing she would snap out of it. When Sam only responded in a loud, fake snore, Carly muttered, "God, you're so immature Sam." Still on her beanbag, she crossed one leg over the other and tapped her raised foot impatiently. Tucking her hair behind her ears, Carly added, "Well whatever happens Sam, whatever you decide, you have to realize that you're going to have to talk to Freddie, and you know I'm going to make you do that tomorrow."

When Sam did not respond – not even with a fake snore – Carly rose to her feet and approached her silently. Sam was sprawled out in a star shape, face pushed flat into the mattress. Her back rose slowly with deep breaths, making Carly wonder if she really had fallen asleep. Sam had greedily taken up the whole bed, leaving no room for her friend. If it had been any other night, Carly would have shoved her over to make room, but instead she prepared herself to spend the next few hours asleep on a beanbag.