Sam's POV

The early morning sunlight sifted through the hotel window and forced my eyelids open. I stretched, taking in the beauty of Nevada as I woke up. When I looked by my side I saw the adorable dork Freddie Benson sleeping next to me. I giggled to myself, staring at his motionless form. What a cute boy.

"Snap out of it, Sam! You know you'd never stand a chance with him! And stop with the girly gushing" a voice in the back of my mind reminded me. Oh right. Whether Carly was here or not, she still reigned supreme in Freddie's mind.

As I was staring at Freddie, unable to drive my gaze away, his eyes opened and he caught me staring at him. Quickly, shyly, I redirected my gaze to the window, but I think it was too late.

"Good morning, Samantha," Freddie said as I casually turned back to look at him and saw he was wearing a sly smile.

"Oh, you're up," I offhandedly mentioned. Suddenly, I realized how he had greeted me.

"Wait, what did you call me?!"

"Oh, nothing. Puckett." He bemusedly corrected himself as his eyes locked with mine.

I waited, the seconds building upon each other, for him to break the eye contact. But he did not. It felt as if he were looking right through my eyes into the depths of my soul. Finally assuming he would not redirect his gaze, I broke the contact myself.

"We..um…should probably get moving. The goal today is to make it to Prescott, Arizona," I let him know.

Freddie became more alert and business-like. "Right. Let's go. I'm driving; we need to stay on task today if we're going to go that far. No fat cake stops!"

I rolled my eyes when Freddie wasn't looking and consented to his request. Oh, the things this boy does to me.

We were back on the road fairly quickly, Freddie's attention directed fully on the highway as he masterfully ignored the playful puppies that were partially obstructing his view.

My hands were tied in a knot comfortably around his waist and my head was on his shoulder. Freddie cautiously took one hand off the handlebar to turn on the radio but I stopped him in what I consider a very angelic tone…

"NO DON'T TURN ON THE RADIO!"

Freddie pulled his hand back immediately as the bike swerved a little to the left. Cookie and Bouncer whimpered in their basket.

"Why don't you want to listen to the radio today?"

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly even though he couldn't see me. "I feel like singing today."

I can only imagine the amused expression on Freddie's face now. "Since when do you volunteer to sing while you're sober?"

"Since always. I just never wanted to sing around you, because well…" I trailed off.

"Because you what?" Freddie inquired in a 'you better not refuse to answer my question' tone.

"Well I just never wanted you to see me as a softie. Doesn't matter now though. I'm tired of building up walls. Unless of course, you don't want to hear me sing?"

Freddie sounded shocked at my confession, as he said, "No I love your voice. I would be delighted if you sang me a song."

"Okay," I replied hesitantly, trying to rack my mind for a familiar melody. "Well there was this one song that my Uncle CJ used to sing to me when I was a little girl."

"The man we're going to see now?" Freddie inquired.

"Yes, him. It's kind of dumb though and I never really figured out what it meant," I shook off the idea.

"Everyone revels in dumb little things from their childhood. That's what makes them so special." I knew he was just trying to make me feel better.

"This is really dumb though, because its not supposed to be dumb. You see, my Uncle CJ was always looking out for me, and that's why I'm going to go see him. He knew my mother wasn't always right in the brain and said if I ever needed help that I should come find him where the song leads me," I explain to Freddie in one breath.

"Then that's really important. You have to sing it for me," he replies, always thinking rationally.

"Well, okay," I say, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes as I call the words back into my memory.

"I'm where the river stops

Yonder over three white stones

I'm where the river stops

Through the woods, ignore the moans

I'm where the river stops

Beyond the fence, behind the tree

I'm where the river stops

Past the tree house you'll find me

I'm where the river stops

Wait it out and there I'll be"

I can feel Freddie shudder underneath my grasp and know that the song is too eerie for him to handle. I think for a moment that I've made a mistake. That's when he says, "That was beautiful. Thanks Sam. If you're uncle isn't where he's supposed to be, we'll follow that song."

I nod even though I know he can't see me. "Yeah," I reply and then I shake my head to rid myself of all the bad memories associated with my childhood. "You can turn the radio on now. I'm done singing."

Freddie heeds my command and this time when he moves to turn on the radio I don't scream at him.

Kesha flows through the speakers, completely obliterating any remnant of a sentimental mood.

I spend the next few hours nodding occasionally to Freddie's recount of how difficult being a cameraman for iCarly was. Whenever he wants to find a job, it should be easy for him if he puts that on his résumé. Do I think there are a lot of video production jobs in Texas? Do I? Well do I?

"SAM!" he shouts, breaking my train of thought and I accidentally break off a fingernail in my surprise at Freddie's sudden voice level.

"Yes?"

"Do you think there are video production jobs in Texas?" he asks again.

"Oh. Possibly. You know I don't look into that stuff. I haven't had the best experiences with jobs. Especially tech stuff. That's just absurd. I reserve the tech stuff for freddorks."

Freddie's muscles get tense and I can feel his dismay as he mumbles, "Okay."

I don't realize for another hour that he was suggesting he stay in Texas, with me. Why else would he need a job there?

I was lost in thought for a while before I glanced on the ground and saw a wad of bills. "Freddie, stop," I say trying to keep my voice calm so I don't startle him.

"Thanks for not shattering my ear drum this time, Sam," he says as he slows to a stop. I quickly jump off the bike and run backwards to where I saw the money. I can hear Freddie's thuds as he races to keep up with me, "What is it?" he inquires.

I grin as I run my hands over each and every dollar, fanning Freddie's face with the green fortune.

"It's our lucky day. That's what it is, Benson." I smile and turn around, my eyes finding a cute diner about 50 yards away. "You know," I say turning back to Freddie, "you still owe me a meal. It may not be breakfast, but dinner works just as well."

Freddie blushed as he took the money from me and put it in his pocket. "I don't know Sam. Isn't this Eureka, Nevada? There are murderers on the loose. It's not exactly the best time to be settling down for a bite to eat. Look, let's just go a little while longer and find somewhere else to eat and I promise I won't argue then."

I put up a hand to stop him. "Since when do you make the rules? I thought I told you that I am in charge during this trip. I am the experienced one. Not you. And I am hungry."

Freddie rolled his head back and threw his hands out like he was pouting and said, "But Sam, I'm just looking out for…" he stopped as he saw me standing there, tapping my foot, raising my eyebrows at him as I dared him to continue.

"Fine then. We'll eat here. It's a date," he says, and it's my turn to blush.

I decide to ignore the whole date comment and start walking towards the diner when Freddie asks what we should do with Cookie and Bouncer.

"Let's just leave them. We can't sneak them in. They'll be fine." I say but I risk a glance back in the puppies' direction and see them pouting. "I'll bring you something," I tell them before Freddie and I finally depart to enjoy our dinner.

The diner turns out to be called the Saucy Café, and I inquire that this may become one of my favorite Italian places. It's red from the ceiling to the floor and the door is shaped like a pizza. Yum. Mama like.

But as soon as my first step plods into the restaurant, I can tell it might have been a slight mistake. Everyone here is dressed in his or her best tuxedo or dress. Two teenagers walking in clothes that are pretty much synonymous with rags at this point stick out, and that's not good when you're on the run. But the thought of having a nice dinner with Freddie overrides all reason and when I see him giving the hostess our aliases, Jennette McGurdy and Nathan Kress. I smile by his side and avoid making eye contact with her.

We make our way to the table and sit on the overly plush chairs. The hostess hands us our menus and scurries away as quickly as possible, no doubt wanting to avoid the embarrassment of being seen in close proximity to a couple of street rats.

Freddie holds his menu like he holds his posture, straight, tall, and proud. It makes my slouching look almost ridiculous.

"What are you thinking about getting, Sam?" he asks me, calling me back to earth in the process.

"Umm. I think chicken Alfredo. You?"

"The vegetable lasagna is calling to me."

I should have known. Fredward never got over his love for veggies. I can't help but stifle a smile.

When the waitress comes back to take our orders, we order our entrees with the drinks. When you are wanted runaways, you don't always have time for a hearty meal, so we are always careful to make decisions quickly and effectively. Chicken Alfredo and vegetable lasagna would fill us up even if we hadn't eaten all day.

We find ourselves meticulously talking strategy: how long it will take before we are finally in Texas, when we will locate another decent place to sleep, how to toilet train Bouncer so that he no longer urinates on Cookie's face in the basket.

After we decide to take at least five stops a day for Bouncer's bladder needs, Freddie slouches back in his seat so that his pose mimics mine at last.

"I'm tired of all this talk," he says.

Hurt, I reply, "Fine. Don't talk to me then."

He laughs his low, reassuring chuckle. "No, Sam. I meant I'm tired of talking about tactics. We talk about that so much. What I really need right now is a break. Why don't you talk about you?"

I lift my head up for a second, perplexed, before plopping it back down and staring up at the ceiling, "Huh?"

"I know all about your love for ham, your expertise at taking care of yourself, and your horrible driving skills, but I want to know the stupid stuff. What is your favorite color?" he drills me.

I find myself sitting up, attentive. "Brown," I say.

His face scrunches up in perplexity. "Brown?" he repeats after me.

"That's what I said."

"Sam, that is the most disgusting color there is. Why brown? Let me guess. It's the color of chocolate."

I shake my head violently to make my point, "No. That's such a stupid reason. I like brown because it's the color of gravy."

Freddie tries to hide it, but I catch him roll his eyes at me, clearly unimpressed by my answer.

"Well if that's not good enough for you, what's your favorite color then?"

"Blue."

My face scrunched up in utter repulsion. "Blue is the most basic color you could possibly think of."

Freddie shrugged his shoulders, implying that he did not particularly care.

"I think you need to learn to take a walk on the wild side," I continued.

"Oh and leaving everything behind and gallivanting to Texas with you isn't wild enough?" he lifts an eyebrow. "Next Question. What would your ideal job be?"

"That's easy," I say. "An invisible ninja."

Freddie bobs his head, as if he understands my goals. "But if you were a good ninja, you wouldn't need to be invisible. You would move so fast that no one would notice you were there, even if you were visible."

I wave my hand in the air passively, "That's too much work. I'd rather be invisible from the start."

Freddie chuckles almost inaudibly to himself.

"Any more questions?"

"One more. What do you think about marriage?" He asks me this question as if he is asking how I feel about the weather outside today.

I'm taken aback. Could he possibly know about my feelings for him? He's torturing me, isn't he? He thinks he can toy with little Sam Puckett because she toyed with him all of those years.

"Well," I start out talking slowly, being careful not to say anything too misleading. "I suppose if the right man came along, that that would be okay. Of course, he would have to obey my every command and feed me whenever I want to be fed," I add the last part as an afterthought.

Freddie struggles to keep the muscles in his face from forming into a grin, but he ultimately loses. He averts his eyes away from me, closely resembling a schoolboy whose friends have just been teasing him about the girl he likes. He must be thinking of Carly, somehow. There's no way his newfound sense of joy has anything to do with me.

I'm about to ask him how he feels about the topic when the waitress arrives and hands us our sizzling meals. My taste buds explode into ecstasy at the first bite of the chicken Alfredo. I haven't tasted anything this good in months; perhaps I've never tasted something this good. I watch Freddie chow down his food in a similar hungry and pained manner. To the rest of the restaurant patrons eating as dainty civilized people, we must look like baboons.

In less than five minutes, we have cleared our plates and are licking up the remnants of the pasta. After we have finally confessed to ourselves that there is simply no more cheesy delight left on our plate, Freddie pays the bill to the ashamed hostess who had originally seated us. We have not appeared to gain back any credibility from her, and upon looking down at my blouse I find that I have a huge Alfredo stain spreading wildly across the knitted fabric.

When we are once again back outside, I notice that the temperature must have dropped at least twenty degrees.

"Oh my gosh. Did we transport to Antarctica? It's freezing out here," I can barely get the words out of my mouth audibly because every bone in my body is shivering, attempting to keep in what little body heat I have left.

Freddie notices my fruitless attempts to retain warmth and says, "Come here. I'll…try to help."

At first, I'm not sure what he means but when he reaches out his arms to me, exposing his chest to the bitter cold, I take it as an open invitation to fall into his arms. Apparently I'm right, because he closes me in and I am trapped in his embrace. I can feel the wool in his shirt rubbing against my cheek, and instantly I am warm. His sweater smells like grass, and I realize it is probably from sleeping on the ground so much on our little adventure.

I don't want to ever let go, but eventually I realize that I must. We have to get back to the bike. Cookie and Bouncer must be starving by now and I mentally curse myself for forgetting to bring them anything.

Whenever I do force myself to let go, I hesitantly look up to Freddie's eyes and I find him already staring at me. Lust radiates from his eyes, rendering me helpless to the same feeling. But underneath the want, I can sense genuine compassion and tenderness. I feel my heart leave my body as he leans in.

Bang

Immediately alert, my head jerks back before our lips touch and I turn in the direction of the gunshot. There are two men dressed entirely in black scurrying our way. Their harsh laughter resonates across the plateau parking lot, giving away their location. I don't think they've noticed Freddie and me, but I stop breathing, just in case.

"It's them," I mouth and I grab Freddie's hand and run off toward Harvey. He is slower to react to the incident than I am. Our time on the run has not quite caught him up to my level of capability.

Or maybe I was wrong.

My scampering has alerted the man on the left to my presence. His eyes flash in the moonlight, and as they meet my own, I read bewilderment in their expression.

"She saw!" he shouts to his companion and closes in the distance between us while loading his gun.

I don't have much time to form a plan. Harvey is only ten feet away now, but a bullet has no problem following a bike. I have to think of something else.

"Freddie. Run! Get out of here!" I shout.

I don't feel him move from my side, and my state of alarm rises. "What are you doing?" I say. "They haven't seen you yet. You can still make it."

"I'm not leaving without you," and he remains standing there. Too late now. The killer is so close I can smell the garlic on his breath.

When the pistol touches my forehead, my first thought is how cold the metal is. I longed to be back in the arms of Freddie now. Everything seemed so simple and perfect only moments before. Too bad my brain is about to be blown to smithereens. I'm glad my last thought is of Freddie.

"Listen," my executioner says before pulling the trigger, "I know you saw what we did to that girl over there. Now, if you don't want to end up like that little whore, then you need to pay up." He rubs his fingers together in front of my face, no doubt imagining that there were bills there instead of thin air.

Freddie wastes no time, "Okay boys, here you go." Through my peripheral vision, I see him fumble for his wallet. What a stupid boy. He's going to give up all of that precious food money to save my life? I thought I taught him to be more resourceful than that.

My knee lurches up, slamming into the gunman's groin. He drops his gun as his body falls to the ground. Screeches of agony fill the air, but his partner is still standing.

"Go get Harvey. Now!" I scream at Freddie and at last I see the boy dart off in the direction of my beloved bike.

"You little –" his partner starts, but before he can finish his sentence, I have already punched him squarely in the mouth. As he clutches his face, I run and hop onto the back of Harvey. Freddie speeds off south, not even bothering to get back onto the road.

I clutch his back as I hear the first gunshot. One of them must have recovered themselves, and they were shooting to kill. I actually saw a bullet come within an inch of Freddie's ear, but I did not dare tell him. I'm sure he noticed anyway.

"We forgot Cookie and Bouncer!" I scream over the racing wind.

"They'll live, Sam. If we go back, we won't!"

I put my emotions aside and decide that Freddie has the better judgment this time. The bullets had slowed down to almost a halt. I finally breath a sigh of relief.

"That was a close one."

But I spoke too soon. A sharp, searing pain came rippling through my foot. I forgot to breathe. I forgot to think. So much pain. I've been shot.

There is absolutely no excuse for me not updating for 2 and a half years…I am truly sorry….On the bright side…I think it's a very exciting chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! It won't be two and a half years before the next update. I promise.

On another note: I'm incredibly heartbroken that Seddie was not canon at the end of iCarly. That is a perfect opportunity wasted. Here's hoping that Nathan Kress becomes a regular on Sam and Cat and Seddie rekindles there.