


Truth: The Aftermath

by HourglassGluedToTheTable



Category: iCarly
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2013-07-12 12:28:08
Rating: T
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,266
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8470393/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1748738/HourglassGluedToTheTable
Summary: FBenson: I'm in love with you, Sam Puckett. You have my fucking heart. Now you just have to decide what to do with it. FBenson signed off 6:34 P.M . Sequel to Truth.





	1. Chapter 1 (February)

_FBenson: Okay, I've got one._

_FBenson: And considering Frank is asleep not five feet from me – he fell asleep watching 'The Unauthorized Galaxy Wars' documentary – we're going to have to break the rule and answer over messaging._

_GiveMeMyHam: How long did he last?_

Sam sat back with a slight smile, staring at her computer screen while flipping through her math textbook, not really taking in any trig.

_FBenson: A little over a half an hour. I was rather disappointed._

_GiveMeMyHam: Can you blame the guy? Anyway, I didn't even last fifteen._

_FBenson: Yes, but you weren't physically here, so it wasn't hard to ignore you and finish the movie. _

_FBenson: And anyway, you are much cuter when you sleep. Frank, on the other hand, rolls around and snores like a boat horn._

Skillfully ignoring the compliment, Sam typed out her reply.

_GiveMeMyHam: So what's your question?_

_FBenson: If you could be reborn into anybody, who would it be?_

Smirking, she typed back almost immediately.

_GiveMeMyHam: The Fat Priest._

Freddie burst into laughter.

_FBenson: Are you kidding?_

_GiveMeMyHam: No! He's my hero._

_GiveMeMyHam: What about you?_

Freddie thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on the keyboard.

_FBenson: Probably Leibniz._

Upon realizing she definitely had no idea who that was, he quickly typed out more detail.

_FBenson: He was a mathematician in the 1600s. One of the inventors of calculus._

_GiveMeMyHam: Oh, fancy. My boyfriend, the math wizard._

Shaking his head in mirth, he rolled his eyes. He could only imagine Sam's expression at that moment.

_FBenson: I sense your sarcasm from 3000 miles away._

_GiveMeMyHam: I take pride in the strength of my sarcastic signals._

_FBenson: I wish they didn't need to be so strong._

Sam's smile faded.

_GiveMeMyHam: You'd rather me be there, where my anger and violence is only a foot away? At least you're safe out there._

_FBenson: Safety is overrated._

There was a pause in response, and Sam hoped that would be the end of it. But alas, the universe wasn't ready to let her off the hook just yet.

_FBenson: I miss you._

With a sigh, Sam pushed her laptop away from her. It had been a month since she returned from Oklahoma, a month since she had seen Freddie. Right after she left, it had been so easy. Like it was when they were still physically together. They talked and bantered and it was like nothing changed.

That was, until she had received a call.

_"Hello?"_

_"Sam?"_

_Sam turned her phone, checking the caller ID one more time because why was the nub questioning her voice?_

_"No, it's Heidi Klum."_

_There was unfamiliar laughter on the other line._

_"Sam, it's Frank. Freddie's roommate?"_

_Suddenly it clicked, and she almost let out a sigh in relief._

_"Oh hey!" She greeted, picking up her last piece of laundry and unceremoniously shoving it in a drawer. _

_"Hi Sa- Heidi. How are you doing?"_

_"Oh, you know," She shrugged with a ghost of a smile on her face. "Same old, same old. Photoshoots, magazine covers, endless amounts of cash. So tiring. How's life with the peasants?"_

_"Not too shabby, can't complain. Well… except for the reason I called."_

_"Which is…?" Sam implored, sitting on her bed in wonder and a tad– very small – bit of worry._

_"Uh… it's Freddie." Frank told her, and she sucked in a breath. "There's something going on with him. He won't admit it or talk about it, but it's really starting to worry me."_

_She shook her head, hoping to whatever is out there that Frank is just reading into things. "No… no he's probably just worried about a test or something. I mean, it's Freddie, right? He's always stressed out about something-"_

_"He only smiles when he's on the phone with you, Sam."_

_Her heart skipped a beat. Honestly, skipping a beat, like in those stupid movies. "What?" _

_Frank just shook his head. "Otherwise he looks like his puppy just died. It's only when you call that he starts to look like himself again. Until you two hang up, then he slowly goes back to the kicked puppy face."_

_"I- I don't…" She stuttered, unsure of how to respond. She had noticed a change in him, but she, of course, had chalked it up to 'It's just Freddie being Freddie.' Being his girlfriend, she probably should have noticed…_

_"I'll be right there."_

* * *

From: The Demon

How are you?

_Freddie pulled out his phone as it vibrated, turning it over and immediately furrowing his eyebrows. _

From: Frednub

Is that supposed to be a question? Because if so, you're really losing your touch.

From: The Demon

Yes, that's a question, so you have to answer. And since it is a question, you need to think about it as much as you would think about any other question I've asked and answer it truthfully.

_With a gulp, Freddie quickly typed out a response before shutting his phone off._

From: Frednub

I don't have time for this right now, Sam. I'm fine. I'll talk to you later.

* * *

_"Hello?" _

_"Nub."_

_Freddie groaned inwardly, cursing himself for not looking at his caller I.D. "Hey, Sam. What's up? I'm kind of busy-"_

_"Are you planning to answer my question within the year?"_

_This time, he actually groaned, flopping down on his couch. "Sam, I'm fine. You're being ridiculous."_

_"No she's not." Frank called as he walked by, pulling on his leather jacket. Freddie just rolled his eyes. "Ignore him."_

_"Stop lying, Freducation. I know there's something going on – it's pretty obvious." She peeked through the window, waving her arms and knocking quietly to get Frank's attention. "If you would just tell me, it would make everything like ten times easier."_

_"Yeah, well there's honestly nothing to tell, okay? I have to go, I was on my way out. I have class in ten minutes." Freddie explained as he guiltily ran his fingers through his bedhead hair. _

_"You know," Sam retorted as she stepped back, waiting for Frank to open the door. "I find it a little insulting that you still lie to me when I made it clear I stopped doing that with you. It's Friday, I know you don't have class on Friday." The door opened, and Frank looked so relieved that he hugged her. Once she was released, he wildly pantomimed that he was leaving until Sam waved him off with a roll of her eyes at his antics. _

_Sighing, Freddie stood up. "Okay, I don't have class, but I'm about to go to a study group in my class, so I have to-"_

_"You're going to a study group in your pajamas?"_

_Freddie narrowed his eyes, "For your _information_, half the school shows up to class in their- wait…" He turned around, seeing Sam behind him with her phone dangling in her hand, glaring at him. His mask deteriorated for a moment, and all he felt was complete _relief_. _

_"Sam." He managed to choke out, before she tossed her phone to the side and stepped up to him, taking him in her arms. He held onto her tightly, until she reached up and grabbed his face._

_"Don't ever lie to me again, you got that?" He nodded softly, his eyes downcast. In a desperate attempt to get that God-awful look of misery off his face, she tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him, hard. _

_"Whatever you're going through, it's going to be okay. I'm…" She took a deep breath, looking him straight in the eyes._

_"I'm here for you."_

Ever since that night. That steamy night, clothes everywhere, hanging off of his lamp and bedposts, when they intimately connected for the very first time. That's when everything changed.

At first, it wasn't that noticeable. Once she got on the plane back home, he was normal. Then she got a text.

_From: Frednub_

_I miss you. _

Only caught a little off guard, she didn't think anything of it. Then came the follow up text.

_From: Frednub_

_I've been afraid to say that to you for the longest time. But I feel like after this weekend… maybe I can?_

Where was all this coming from? Okay, so she knew that things would change now that they took… _that_ step but she had been trying so hard to act like it hadn't. Sure, she'd throw in an occasional 'boyfriend' or sarcastic 'sweetheart', but for the most part it was all the same silly banter. And she had been okay with that.

Until now, that is.

_FBenson: Are you still there?_

_GiveMeMyHam: Could you stop with the cutesy stuff? _

Deep inside, she felt like a complete asshole for it, but she honestly couldn't stand it any longer.

_FBenson: What do you mean?_

Practically feeling his hurt through the computer, she sighed.

_GiveMeMyHam: All the 'I miss you's and 'I wish you were here'. Can't we just go back to how it was before?_

_GiveMeMyHam: And don't say 'before what?' because you know. You feel the change too._

_FBenson: Look Sam, I _know _what you're trying to do. You're trying to play it down, everything that happened that night, everything that's happened since, to keep yourself in your comfort zone._

Sam sucked in a quick breath, her eyes glued to the screen. _Shit._

_FBenson: Well, I'm sorry, I really am. But I can't pretend nothing happened. I _won't _pretend. _

_FBenson: We made love, Sam._

Letting out a soft groan, she drummed her fingers on her keyboard. He _knows _she hates it when they call it that.

_FBenson: That's what it was for me. And deny it all you want, but I'm pretty damn sure it was the same for you. Even if you won't say it._

Her groan grew louder. How the _hell_ does he do that? Get into her head like that? It's downright irritating.

_FBenson: I'm in love with you, Sam Puckett. You have my fucking heart. Now you just have to decide what to do with it. _

_FBenson signed off (6:34 P.M)_


	2. Chapter 2 (February)

Four days.

Four days since she had last talked to Freddie.

He kept true to his word: it was _her_ who had to decide. He hadn't so much as sent her a text since their last online chat. And he knew what he was doing.

He was forcing her to make the last move.

It was almost ironic, as she had been screaming at him just over a month ago across his school campus about how he never makes the _first_ move. Now he finally did.

And she was kind of wishing he would leave the first move stuff to her, because she _hated_ making the last.

With a deep sigh, she picked up her phone, getting ready to dial his number for the fifteenth time in the past five minutes. She had never had to deal with this before. The nervousness, the overthinking. Usually, her motto was don't think, just _do_. That has always given her the best results in the past. But she couldn't help it this time.

Shaking her head, she cleared the dial pad from her phone, clicking to create a new text.

_From: The Demon_

_If I called you, what are the chances you would answer?_

Just over a minute later, her phone rings.

Pleasantly surprised, and frankly, relieved, she presses the answer button and finally hears the voice she's been _sortofnotreallyokayactuallya fuckinglot _missing.

"Well, look who it is." He didn't sound angry, or harsh. But not amused either. He just sounded… tired. "You must think you're very clever. You didn't even have to call me yourself. But I guess my call is an answer in itself this time."

She couldn't even muster up the energy for her usual greeting. "Hi." Sam murmured, and Freddie let out a snort.

"No 'nub'? This must be really bad."

That's when it finally clicked – he thought she was calling to break up with him. When it hit her, she nearly shouted at him. _How the fuck could he think that?_

Thinking back on the past couple of weeks, she guessed it made sense. Her elusive responses, harsh words, delay in calling him.

But she _can't _break up with him. He had to know that.

"And now there's silence. If you could just get this over with, it would be really considerate. Not that you ever are."

_Ouch_, she thought. But she guessed she deserved it. She hasn't been all that considerate lately. Or… ever.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth, but what came out of it was really unexpected.

"Remember what I said that night? I said 'I'm here for you'. I meant it, okay? So even if I'm not able to say… other things, you just need to remember that. I am here for you. I obviously…" She drew in another breath, "_care_ about you. I'm just not ready to…"

"I get it, Sam." He sounded so much happier, to her relief. "I just… I thought you were going to break up with me." Freddie finished in a whisper, and her heart nearly broke at the sadness in his voice.

"This is already going way over my boundaries, but I think you need to hear it. I could _never _break up with you, you nub. Got that?"

"That's a little presumptuous, don't you think? We've only been together for a little over a month-" He explained, but she cut him off.

"And we've known each other since we were twelve, Freddie. We know all of each other's quirks and shit. There won't be any surprises."

"You surprise me all the time." He stated, almost in awe, and she finally cracked a smile.

"Well, yes, but that's because you were in your mother's womb for the first 18 years of your life."

"Funny, Puckett." He deadpanned, but she could hear his chuckle through the phone. "But you're right. Those are good surprises."

There was a pause on her end of the phone, while she contemplated what she was going to say next. She had to finally get it all out there. Well, not _all _of it, but there was still a bit more.

"Listen, I'm never going to _try _to hurt you, okay Freddie?" He nodded, even though she couldn't see. "If I do, it's completely unintentional. Unless you're being a nub, then it might be a _bit _intentional."

"That's all I can ask for, I guess." He replied, amusingly. He knew he could say so much more, about how much he loved her, or how he vows to always protect her or be there for her, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. She knew it already, and it would only serve to remind her why they were having this conversation in the first place – his oversharing.

"Okay, you should go. Don't you have class in like an hour?"

Inwardly grinning that she knew his schedule, he nodded. "Yeah, I probably should."

There was another short silence, until he finally just thought _screw it _and threw caution to the wind.

"I love you, Sam."

He could almost hear her quiet groan through the phone.

"I'm not expecting anything back. You've more than made up for that chat in this phone call. I just want you to know, okay?"

"Okay." Sam conceded, with a sigh. "Have fun in-" snicker "_Women's Studies_."

"I needed the credits!" He insisted for the billionth time. "And that was the only class still open."

"I know, I know." She replied, trying to recover from her snickering. "Call me later, okay? Unless you're in the middle of a feminist protest or something."

Just to piss her off, he teased, "Bye, _Samantha_."

He hung up just as she let out a disgusted groan.


	3. Chapter 3 (March)

_From: Frednub_

_You're stranded on a deserted island. Three things you'd want with you? (Basic essentials are already provided – so don't go spending your three on food.)_

* * *

"What do you want?"

Freddie chuckled at her blunt tone, "Nice to hear from you too, sweetheart."

Silently gagging at the pet name, she snapped, "I don't have time for this."

"You don't have time for _me_?" He asked, mock-offended. "Why-" At the sound of rustling papers on the other end of the phone, he cut off, knowingly. "Ah, midterms."

"Yes, midterms." Sam affirmed, distractedly.

"For what classes?"

"Well," she un-crumpled her list, angrily, "I have a midterm in Trig, Physics, and Applied Composition." She let out a breath, "Remind me why I decided to major in Marine Carpentry?"

"Because you said, and I quote: 'It looked sort of fun'."

"Well, it's not fun anymore!" She proclaimed wildly. "Why didn't you warn me about how much math I'd have to do?"

"That's funny," He answered dryly, "because I distinctly remember saying: 'You know there's a lot of math, right?'"

"Well, obviously I didn't, considering the predicament I'm in now."

"Okay, okay." Freddie relented, "Do you want some help?"

"No, I do not want any-" She began to sneer, then cut off with a gasp, "Wait, yes. Yes, I do!"

With a short chuckle, he nodded. "Okay, wanna video chat? I've missed seeing you anyway."

"And I've missed your huge freakish brain." Sam replied cheerfully, signing onto her laptop.

"Glad to be of use."

They replaced the phones for their computer screens; Freddie sitting on his bed flipping through his history book while Sam lugged her notebook and textbooks to her desk.

"So why are you freaking out about these so much? I thought you were doing great in your classes-"

"Well, I'm not."

Freddie furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean? Last time I asked you told me that you were breezing by-"

"Yeah, that was in the beginning. But now we're far into the semester and I obviously don't know what I'm doing. Which my professor has figured out, considering he already plans to fail me."

"Don't be so dramatic, he's not-"

"No, Fredbag. He's legitimately expecting me to fail. He told me so. And if I fail out of his class, I won't be able to retake it before my two years are up. And I barely have enough cash to pay for this as it is-"

"Woah, Sam. Calm down. You're not going to flunk out. Let's just look over the problems, okay? I'll help you figure this out. Just relax."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a minute. "Okay. Here's the first one."

* * *

An hour later, they had gone through two chapters, and Sam was getting even more frustrated.

"So then after you divide by cosine, you would…?" Freddie hesitated, trying to prompt her.

"Uh, I don't know, change it to cotangent?"

Freddie quirked his mouth to the side, shaking his head. "Not exactly, you need to consult the unit circle first. Find tangent of pi."

"I'm not going to get this." She threw her pencil down, dropping her head in her hands with a groan of frustration. "I'm Sam Puckett. I shouldn't even be in college, let alone taking a fucking math test. This isn't me, I should be in a dead end job with little pay; that's where I belong."

"Shut up."

Sam looked up, one eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?"

"Shut up." Freddie repeated, looking her straight in the eye. "That's not true. None of it. Damn it, Sam, what is it going to take for you to realize? You're smart. You are so smart. You made it to college because you worked your ass off. You _deserve_ to be here. Stop selling yourself short."

"But Professor Brady-"

"I believe in you, okay? I _know_ you can do this. And don't you want to prove it to that professor that you have what it takes? Prove it to yourself?"

She looked down at her book, trying to piece together her thoughts. However, the only thing that made it out of her mouth was, "I wish you were here."

His eyes widened, and his face broke into a small smirk. "What was tha-"

"Don't pretend you didn't hear me, nub."

Laughing quietly, he shook his head. "I wish I was there too. It's so much easier to calm you down when I can actually touch you."

A pause, and then, "You're good at that."

Wow, two heartfelt comments in the time span of one minute – he chalked it up to her delirious mid-studying state.

"I'd like to think calming you down is one of my more useful talents."

"Too bad my talent isn't trig."

He shook his head, smirking at her. "Stop bashing on my girlfriend. Your lies are just making her feel worse."

Before she could stop herself, she let out a short laugh, causing him to smile. "You are _such _a nub."

"And, luckily, trig _is_ one of my talents." He grinned, leaning closer to his screen. "So open up that book again, let's do number fourteen."

* * *

One hour and a billion (claims Sam) problems later, she threw her textbook on the floor.

"Thank God Almighty, I'm done." She sighed, collapsing on her pillows.

He smiled, "Hey, you never answered my question."

"Well, I was sort of in a catatonic state of pre-midterms, so forgive me for ignoring your message." She explained as she clicked through her phone, reaching his text. "Oh, that's easy- oh. Can't choose food items?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Try again."

"Okay… well, I'd want my butter sock."

His jaw dropped in disgust, "You still _have _that thing?"

"I've changed the butter…" she insisted with a shrug. "And I'd have to bring my big fork."

He rolled his eyes. "You really need to rethink your priorities."

Ignoring him, she continued to think. "And…" With a sigh, she motioned carelessly towards the screen, "I _guess _you could come…"

At her words, Freddie's heart soared. That was basically a declaration of love in Sam's language.

"Oh great, are you going to get all nubby about this? Because I could still change my answer… maybe exchange you for a monkey or something."

"No, no need to exchange me. I'm perfectly grounded. Very un-nubby."

"Good. Because I want you there." She trailed off at the end, and he could barely make it out. But over the years he has become adept and deciphering Sam's words, especially the ones that she instantly regretted saying as soon as they were out of her mouth, like this one.

"Well, as long as you're there, I'd want to be there too."

She just shook her head, claiming he was "too dang sappy for his own good", but he could see the hint of smile on her face, so in his eyes it had been worth it.

* * *

_My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard-_

Freddie whipped his head around, looking for the source of the noise, before realizing it was coming out of his own pocket.

He rolled his eyes, _Sam._ He really needed to keep an eye on his phone when she was around.

He pressed the answer button, but before he could deliver a greeting, Sam was already screaming.

"What – I can't understand what you're saying!"

She finally slowed down enough to choke out: "I got an A!"

Freddie's face broke into a wide grin, "On your math midterm?"

"YES!" The way her breath was wavering, he could tell she was jumping around. He had an urge to jump with her, but considering he was in the middle of campus, he repressed it.

"Sam, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it. And now your professor knows too." _The bastard, _He added silently.

"I got a ninety six percent. That's practically a perfect score."

Laughing, he nodded, "Of course. Did you flip off your professor?" Freddie added, a hint of teasing in his voice. But in all honesty, he wouldn't be surprised.

"No, I took it very maturely." She proclaimed proudly, "But I did wave it around his desk as I left the room. Closest I could get to literally rubbing it in his face."

"Oh, well that's very mature," he laughed, shaking his head. "But either way, great job. Really."

"Thanks." She replied, her voice starting to quiet down.

"By the way, did you by chance change my ringtone?"

"Of course not." She answered automatically, causing him to laugh.

"So you're telling me that I downloaded the song 'Milkshake' myself and I just don't remember?"

"Well, you _are_ a pretty strange guy. And you're always on the computer. How am I supposed to know what you're doing on there?"

"I still don't understand how you pull these pranks when I haven't seen you for months."

"It's a gift."

Shaking his head, he smirked. "Well, I better get going. I'm heading to class."

"Is it-"

He groaned, "_No_, not Women's Studies."

_Snicker_. "Oh, okay. Have fun being a nerd."

"Have fun with your A."

"Oh, I _definitely _will." She smiled, her eyes bright, "I already bought it a drink and we're going back to my place."

Freddie bit back his laughter, "Should I be jealous…?"

"Possibly… who knows what will come of tonight. We've got the house to ourselves."

"Well, use protection."

"Got it covered. I'll keep you posted Fredman."

With a smile, he told her, "I love you."

"Yeah…" she sighed," you too dude. Bye."


	4. Chapter 4 (April)

_From: Frednub_

_Best physical feature?_

Rolling her eyes, she texted him back.

_From: The Demon_

_We'll see about that. Skype?_

* * *

"So we're getting into these now?" Sam asked, exasperated, one hand holding a wine glass while the other finished situating her computer.

"Come on, answer it." He insisted, pulling his laptop closer and settling into his bed.

She pursed her lips. "I don't want to feed your ego."

Freddie laughed lightly, kicking the covers off of his legs. "Please?"

After a minute or so, Sam let out an exaggerated groan. "Fine. Your shoulders."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyebrow quirked. "I wasn't expecting that."

Shrugging, she answered. "You have really nice shoulders. Broad and muscular. Beefy. I'd say your arms too, but I thought that was obvious."

He considered her response for a moment, before lifting his arms in view of the camera, flexing a bit. "Right, that's obvious."

Rolling her eyes, Sam let out a slight laugh. "Screw you, Benson."

"Okay," he continued, ignoring her, "Want to hear yours?"

"I guess," she shrugged, sporting her perfectly mastered indifferent expression.

"Your hair. I've always had a thing for your hair, before I even knew that I liked you. It catches the light so well, making it look like it's glowing. I could honestly just play with it all day…"

She couldn't help but smile, but she was able to hide it quickly. "Yes, it is quite distracting. Glorious. God-like."

"And your boobs."

She couldn't even mask the smile that spread onto her face at that, "Oh really? What about them?"

"Are you kidding? There isn't one thing. Everything about them."

With a smirk, she looked down, pushing them together slightly. "I always thought they were a bit too big…"

"God no, they're perfect." He stated, then groaned when she leaned forward slightly, still pushing on her breasts. "Now stop, Sam, seriously. You're killing me."

Laughing, Sam dropped her hands, staring at Freddie.

"I miss you." She mumbled, and instantly hoped he hadn't heard.

But, of course, the nub's hearing prevailed. "What was that?" He asked, a grin slowly growing onto his face.

"I said I lost my shoe." Sam lied quickly, putting up her mask of disinterest.

"No, you definitely said, 'I miss you'."

"If you heard it, then why are you asking me to repeat it…" She muttered, as more of a statement than a question, picking at a piece of string on her blanket.

"Because I'd like it if you could repeat it."

"Just forget it. I better get to bed." She started pushing her laptop off of her lap, ready to just shut it down and pretend she never professed anything, when his voice stopped her.

"No, wait. Sam."

She made the mistake of looking up at the screen and instantly regretted it, seeing Freddie's big, pleading eyes.

"I just… you almost _never _say…" He trailed off, obviously losing his momentum. "Never mind.  
It's okay. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

But Sam was already mentally preparing herself, because she knew what he was about to say, and she had been dreading the time when he would finally start to get tired of her evasive replies to his affectionate statements.

"I miss you, Freddie." She told him, much clearer this time. His eyes flicked back to the screen, and his smile grew again.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

But now that she had started, she found that she couldn't stop. "I miss everything about you. Even the stuff that pissed me off when we were actually together. Like that stupid little noise you make every time I take your hand. And your smell. And, _God_, the feel of you. I miss your hands. I miss kissing you, especially. I miss you so much."

He was in full out grin mode now, and just the sight of his smile made her smile, too. Although she was able to cover it up pretty quickly.

"I miss you too, Sam. You have no idea how good it felt to finally hear you say that."

Sam nodded to him absentmindedly, but she thought she might have a feeling, considering as soon as she finished saying it, she felt the same way.

"I love you." He told her, obviously gauging for her reaction. Normally, she gave him an offhand _"Yeah, yeah, you too, Frediffer."_ But tonight, blame it on the alcohol (which was still sitting untouched on her dresser), she decided to change her tactic.

"I- I love you." She choked out, avoiding eye contact, but once she said it, she needed to repeat it. She looked straight at him. "I love you."

He closed his eyes for a moment, a look of pure bliss on his face. "Say it again."

Rolling her eyes a bit, she chuckled. "You're such a sap."

"Come on, please? Just once more."

Taking a deep breath, she leaned into the microphone. "I love you so much, Freddie. Don't you forget it."

"You're amazing, you know that?" He bubbled with a slight shake of the head. "Good night, baby."

The joy on her face subsided a bit at the pet name, rising a glare out of her, and he laughed. "Okay, okay. We're not there yet. That's okay, I'll definitely take what I can get. Sweet dreams, Sam."

With one last look, she echoed. "Night, Freddison."


	5. Chapter 5 (May)

_From: The Demon_

_Okay, I know this goes against all of my personal rules, especially considering it has only been three days since we last talked, but… I miss you. Where have you been, nub?_

* * *

"Hello?"

Taken aback, Sam pulled the phone from her ear and checked the screen.

"Uh, hi?" She told the giggly girl on the other line, thoroughly confused by the voice.

"Did you need some- ah!" The stupid girl let out a shrill screech, so loud that Sam had to turn her phone's volume down.

"Freddie!" The girl giggled, in the most annoying voice Sam had possibly ever heard. "Stop that!"

Well, obviously this bitch knew Freddie pretty well. Awesome.

"Hello?" Came a panting Freddie, and Sam's ears perked up a little. It was then that she noticed the music and voices in the background. Freddie was at a party. Flirting with a girl.

"Hello?" He asked again, and she found it funny that he never thought to check his caller I.D.

"Sorry, wrong number." Sam retorted bitterly, before yanking the phone from her ear and hanging up. Sure, it was a bit juvenile, but considering the circumstances she felt it wasn't uncalled for.

But of course, the nub just didn't get it, because less than five minutes later she got another call.

"Sam, did you just call me? Why did you hang up?" The background was much quieter, she noted, so he must have relocated. Although it didn't do much to calm her anger and, dare she say it, _jealousy_.

"Hello? Sam, I know you're there. I can hear that show _All About Meat_ on in the background. What's going on? I don't talk to you for three days and this is the greeting I get?"

The _nerve _of this guy. It slipped from her mouth before she could stop it. "I don't talk to _you _for three days and _she _is the greeting I get?"

"What? You mean Taylor?" He sounded so genuinely confused, and it pissed her off.

"It doesn't even matter. I didn't mean to pull you away from what sounds like the party of the century. Just go and have a great time with _Taylor_, okay?" The sarcasm almost made her grimace herself.

"I don't know why you're so angry, but if you would just _explain _it to me instead of your whole _I'm mad but I'm just going to freeze you out_ thing then I would really appreciate-"

"Oh, I'm not _mad_," Sam responded, in the same painfully sweet voice_,_ "Why would I be mad that my boyfriend is off doing body shots with some cun-" She checked herself, taking a deep breath, "some _very friendly _girl while I'm having an exciting night at home with my remote and some fried chicken?"

"Woah, Sam. Calm down. I promise I'm not doing _body shots_… whatever that is." Briefly forgetting her anger, she rolled her eyes at his innocence, "Taylor is just this girl in my Mechanics class. She was trying to get this app on my phone to work – I couldn't figure it out. Then I guess you called and she answered."

Although she knew that explanation was intended to make her feel better, it really didn't. Now he just confirmed her suspicions that there were obviously genius, flirty girls all around Freddie to amaze and distract him.

"Sam… you're jealous, aren't you?" She could almost feel his smirk through the phone. And she couldn't even deny it.

"No chiz, Freduccini." She snapped, irritatingly. "You can't honestly say I have no reason to be. I mean, really. A _girl _who knows more about technology than you do? Has to be your dream."

The other side of the phone was quiet for a moment, then she heard a slight snicker. Then another. And before she knew it, there he was, _laughing _at her misery.

"Are you seriously _laughing_ right now? What, is Taylor there listening? You two are probably having a grand ol' time over this-"

"Sam!" He managed to choke out between chuckles, "Just stop! Taylor isn't here. I left her – the whole party, actually – for this ridiculous conversation. And, before you get all defensive, I'm not calling _you_ ridiculous. But your claims are _incredibly _off base."'

"I don't see how they can be _so _off base. She was – probably _is_ – flirting with you. That much is obvious."

"_I _don't see where you're getting that, frankly. But even if she _were_, what would it matter? Guys flirt with you all the time. Actually, every time I'm out there at your school, you have at least five idiots competing with one another to hold the door open for you-"

"Oh, the Sam-mirers." She recalled fondly, "Always there when I need 'em."

"See?" He exclaimed wildly, "You _can't _be freaking out over_ one_ girl when I have to deal with at least seven guys every time I so much as look at you – that is including Frank and Javier."

"Frank isn't into me anymore… is he?"

Freddie scoffed, "I'm pretty sure he stole a picture of you from my dresser, although he hasn't admitted to it yet."

Silence for a moment, and then she snorted. "You really have a picture of me on your dresser?"

He beamed proudly, not missing a beat, "I have more than just pictures, darling. You really need to stop leaving things when you visit."

At his admission, she couldn't even muster up a good insult. She was just proud he finally grew some balls and managed to _touch _the items she left him, let alone put them on his dresser.

He sighed, and she was immediately brought back to the present situation because he was _definitely _not off the hook just yet.

"What are you even doing at a party anyway? You never go to parties."

"I don't _never _go to-" He cut himself off, sighing. "Okay, that may be accurate. But, finals just ended – which is why I haven't been very available lately - and Frank forced me to go to a party with him. Said I spend too much time studying and pining over you." She had to smirk at that. If he wasn't going to actually live his life, might as well worship Mama, right?

"So is this the after-finals MIT rager?"

"I guess so. Although this is my first college party, so I don't have much to compare it to, this is pretty intense. People are running around without pants and throwing balls into cups-"

"That's called _beer pong_, honey." She shook her head at his gross naivety. "Frank's right, you really need to get out more. Have I really never taught you beer pong?"

"I don't know, is it that big of a deal?" He asked curiously and she literally face-palmed.

"It's okay, not all of us can be normal functioning human beings." Freddie had to laugh at that. "You do know what a keg is, correct? This big barrel-like thing with a spout-"

"Yes, I know what a keg is, my oh-so-condescending girlfriend."

"It's my pleasure, my ten-year-old boyfriend."

His mouth gave way to a small smile, shaking his head slightly.

"So, are you over your jealousy now?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Come on, Sam," he coaxed sincerely. "You know me. Of course I won't."

"Yeah, yeah, Frederella. Just remember, I still wear the pants in this relationship."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, babe."

"Stop with the pet names!" She exclaimed, and he laughed.

"Sorry, dear."

A loud groan erupted from her line.

"Puddingpop."

"You practiced these, didn't you?"

"Possibly, babydoll."

There was a silence on the other line, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Sam?"

"Thatwasokay." It was so quiet and rushed that he wasn't sure he even heard it correctly.

"What was that? Sorry, this place is pretty loud-"

"I kind of liked that one." Well, that was clear.

"Really?" He asked in awe, a grin slowly appearing on his face.

That was obviously too many repeats for her. "Never mind."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

"Whatever." She mumbled, nervously, and the grin made it to his face yet again.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

He heard her small noise of approval. "Have fun partying."

"Well, you've ruined it now." He informed her, with a slight smile. "Now all I'm going to think about is that I've _finally _found a pet name that Sam Puckett approves."

"Will you just get over-"

"I will _not _get over it. Come on, Sam, this is a big deal."

She just muttered a passive "yeah, yeah" and he couldn't help himself.

"I love you, babydoll."

At her sigh, he knew he did something right.

"Bye, Freddie."


	6. Chapter 6 (June)

_Just do it. You can't put it off anymore._

Sighing, Freddie picked up his phone for the fourth time, finally sending out a text.

_From: Frednub_

_Hey, you busy? Can we Skype?_

Less than a minute later, his phone beeped in reply.

_From: The Demon_

_Sure, nub. I suppose I have nothing better to do._

* * *

"So, I have some news…"

Sam looked up from her textbook, cocking her eyebrow. "That doesn't sound good."

"Well…" he shrugged. "'It's not ideal. But it's… kind of great for me. Just not for us…"

"Just spit it out."

"I got accepted for the summer program at MIT."

Sam snorted. "Of course you did. Was that ever a question?"

"It's in Florence, Sam." Freddie informed her, a frown on his face, "For two months."

At his statement, her face fell. "Oh…"

"So we won't be able to communicate via phone, but there's always the internet, and I can probably get a good deal on-"

Closing her eyes, she cut him off. "Just stop, Freddie."

Snapping out of his spiel, he looked at her, wordlessly.

"This… isn't going to work anymore."

He squinted his eyes, "What do you mean…?"

"This, Freddie. Us. We can't keep going on like this and expect it to work for the both of us."

"It's just eight weeks, Sam. Then I'll be back in Seattle for two whole weeks before I have to go to Massachusetts-"

"Are you listening to yourself?" She sighed, trying desperately to keep her emotions in check. This was it. What she has been dreading for months. It's finally happening. "You have plans, Freddie. You have opportunities and dreams and the potential to get there.

"I can't keep holding you back."

"Sam, you are _not_ holding me back-" he insisted, but she held up a hand to silence him.

"First it's an eight week program. Next it's a year abroad in France. Then an extra few years at grad school. Then a groundbreaking job opportunity in Switzerland-"

"I'm never going to live in Switzerland. Their chocolate's overrated."

"Whatever." She chided, not in the mood to joke. "It doesn't matter. You're still going to be somewhere. And I'm not going to hold you back. I can't hold you back, tie you down. You had to know this was coming."

He was silent, looking down at his hands.

"You said you would never break up with me. You promised." If her heart wasn't already broken by the situation, it definitely was at his tiny, wounded voice. He looked devastated.

But she knew that if he wanted to get somewhere in life, she couldn't be there dragging him down. She was doing this for _him_, stupid nub.

"Sometimes love isn't enough, Freddie. Sometimes there are other factors that make a bigger impact, ones you might not have expected in the beginning. The sooner you figure that out, the better off you'll be."

And with the last ounce of self-control she had, she clicked the end call button, before nearly throwing her laptop off her bed and burying her face in her pillow.

_What has she done?_

* * *

_From: Frednub_

_Do you still love me?_

Sam sighed, her heart hurting as she turned off her phone.


	7. Chapter 7 (July)

"Hello?"

"Hey Carly," Freddie answered, happily.

"Freddie! It's so good to hear from you! How's Florence?"

"It's really nice, but I miss everyone. International charges are so expensive, but today we have a class in this huge building that has a US cell phone tower." He explained, leaning against a wall to clear the walkway for the crowd of people leaving class. "You're the first person I've been able to talk to – besides my parents – since I got here."

She could hear the sadness in his voice, "So, no calls from… you know who?"

"No." He responded shortly, "So how are you guys? Any developments with Spencer's art?"

Catching onto the topic change, Carly rolled her eyes. "Yeah, actually. That art manager he hired got his pieces in a gallery and already half of them have been sold."

"Wow, that's great! Tell him congratulations for me. What about you? Any luck in the job searching?"

Carly's face broke into a grin, "I got a job offer."

"Really? What is it?"

"It's such a great opportunity. I'd be working with a news station as the assistant of the station manager, and they said I could get promoted to a news anchor in six months!"

"Wow, Carly, that's great news! Where?"

"Um… it's in London."

Freddie's eyes widened, "London?"

"Yeah… but I haven't been able to find anything anywhere else. This is the best offer I've gotten."

Nodding, he took a gulp of his coffee. "Well, are you going to take it?"

Carly hesistated, "There's more."

"Okay…"

"Drew proposed."

The coffee Freddie had been drinking flew out of his mouth, spraying the floor in front of him. "What?" he choked out, wide-eyed.

"About three days ago."

"How long have you two been together anyway?" He furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, "I haven't even met this kid."

Rolling her eyes, Carly insisted, "We've been together for almost a year. It's not that unheard of. But he's honestly such a great guy. He was the only one who would stop and help me when my papers flew everywhere, and he stayed in with me so many nights to help me study… he's got a great heart."

"A year isn't a very long time, Carly. I mean, look at me and-" He stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "Anyway, just because he skips a couple of football games to help you doesn't make him husband material. Have you given him an answer yet?"

"No, and he's pretty much given me an ultimatum. He doesn't want to go to London." Her voice turned anxious, "What do I do, Freddie? This is pretty much the job of the century, but I love Drew. He could be the one. And if I don't say yes, I'm going to lose him."

Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, he shrugged, "I'm a guy, Carls. I'm not the best person to ask about this. Have you talked to Sam? I'm sure she'd have better advice."

"I went to see her right after. She actually said some really smart things."

_That's not a surprise._ He thought, fleetingly,_ she thinks she knows everything when it comes to love. _"What did she say?"

"That love is a relative thing. It can grant the greatest joy, or bring you the most regret. She said that since I'm choosing between a job opportunity or a marriage, I have to figure out which category they fall into. Decide which one I love more, and make the right judgment, or else they will both become an 'if only'."

When Carly concluded her reciting, Freddie's head was spinning. _Could that mean…?_

"And she also said some stuff about him being an asshole for making me choose."

He laughed, but it was filled with no humor, _guess that makes her the opposite. She didn't even give me the choice._

"Wow…" He stated lamely, "she said all that?"

"Yeah, I know. I was surprised too. But she seemed to really know what she was saying. Pretty adamant on the whole 'regret' part." She claimed.

Freddie could practically feel her smirk through the phone. "I- uh… I have to go. I'll talk to you later, okay? Good luck on your decision, and call me if you need any-"

"Are you going to call Sam?"

Freezing for a second, he spluttered, "N-of course no- I wouldn't- there's no reason-"

"You're a terrible liar, Freddie." Carly interrupted in a cocky voice. "I think it's a great idea. Let me know how it goes."

With a sigh, he nodded. "Thanks, Carls. Really think this through, okay? It's a huge decision."

"Don't I know it." She groaned lightly, sending off one last goodbye before they hung up.

Freddie's mind was racing. That speech… it was just meant for Carly, wasn't it? She couldn't have meant anything else by it… just a coincidence.

But still… he thought as he clicked through his contacts again. Even though it was unnecessary – he had memorized her number a long time ago.

_The Demon._

His heart caught up with his mind, beating ten times as fast as normal. Should he do it? What would he say? Would she even answer?

So many questions ran though his mind, until he finally just silenced them.

He needs to take a leaf from Sam's book.

_D_o_n't think. Just do._

_Call._

His heartbeat seemed to pick up even more, if that was even possible, as the phone rang once, twice, a third time.

And he had to face the facts.

_Hey-o, it's Sam Puckett. I've obviously got something better to do besides listen to you yammer on, so leave a message and I _might _get back to you, if you catch me after the right meal time._

No answer.

* * *

_From: Carly Shay_

_Just wanted you to know – I turned Drew down. Took me two weeks to decide, but I'm taking the job offer. Thanks for your advice._

How ironic.


	8. Chapter 8 (August)

"Freddie's back."

"Nice to hear from you too, Carls." Sam sighed, attempting to balance her phone between her ear and shoulder as she pushed her growing grocery cart down the aisle.

"Sam, did you hear me? Freddie's back. I saw him come out of Marissa's apartment."

"Well, did you talk to him?" She asked offhandedly, squinting her eyes at the variety of laundry detergents. Was there really a difference between liquid and powdered?

"Of course not! I called you first."

"Carly." She cut her off, speaking like she was three years old. "You and Freddie were – are – best friends. And we broke up two months ago. Just talk to him like you regularly would."

"Oh, so are you going to come and talk to him? You guys are best friends too."

She bit her lip, not missing her use of the present tense. "I… don't think that would be such a great idea."

"I still don't understand why you two broke up-"

"I know. You've told me hundreds of times. It was just something we had to do, okay? Just drop it."

"Fine, message received."

"Okay." When Carly didn't hang up, Sam groaned softly, "So, was there something else you needed to say, because there's a sample stand of sausage not ten feet from me and -"

"Tell him you love him!" Carly interrupted with a shout.

"Woah, Shay, calm down. I'm not going to say that I love- Freddie!" She nearly dropped her phone in shock when standing there, nearly hitting her cart, appears her ex-boyfriend.

"What- are you with him? Is he there? What's going on?" She heard Carly ramble away questions from her phone dangling from her hand. She quickly pressed the end button – she would explain later.

"Sam," He stared at her for a moment, almost in awe, before shaking his head. "It's nice to see you!"

"You too," She imitated, significantly less enthusiastically, "How was Florence?"

"It was… exhausting. I barely got to see the city, we were in classes and conferences the whole time. But it was fun as well." He rocked back on his heels, holding onto his cart filled with corn starch, beef jerky, and a head of lettuce for leverage. "How was your summer?"

"Uneventful, for the most part." She revealed with a shrug, "This is the third time I've been here this week, so I think you can guess how it's going."

With a laugh, he nodded, "I'm guessing more than your third time at this stand?"

"You guessed right, nu-dude." Still a tad too uncomfortable to revert back to the nicknames just yet. "The man knows me by name. Always stores one under the table for me."

"Even at Bulls-Eye you have connections." He commented knowingly.

"Well, you do know who you're talking to." Shrugging, she inched forward in the line. "So, is there a reason you're here with three strangely unrelated items in your cart?"

He smirked, "Mom's grocery list. I added the jerky. Trying out that 'rebellious' thing."

"Just a few years late, considering you're not a troubled teenager. But still an admirable effort."

"I'm glad you think so." Freddie remarked, happy that they seemed to fall right back into their bantering. Maybe this would be easier than he thought…

"Sammy!" They finally made it up to the front of the line, where the large bald man behind the cart shouted her name.

"Hey Joe, got anything for me?"

"Of course," He reached under the table, pulling out a variety of sausages and meats. "Take the whole plate."

"Thanks! Looking delicious as always." She pointed her finger at him with a smirk, taking the plate.

He let out a loud, rambunctious laugh. "Oh, you flatter me."

After they had made their way from the cart, Freddie had worked out how he was going to approach this in his mind. You can do this.

"So Sam, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab a bite to eat tomorrow? Say, two?" He tried to sound like his utter happiness wasn't riding on her very answer, but it was a bit hard to stop himself from bouncing in anticipation.

But he deflated at one look from Sam. "Freddie…"

"Sam, come on-"

"No, _you _come on." She told him with a sigh. "You're only here for two weeks. Let's not create too much… drama."

"Sam-"

"I'll see you around, okay?" She called over her shoulder, already walking away.

Once she was out of sight, Freddie took a seat on one of the aisles and put his head in his hands. This didn't work out the way he hoped. Did she honestly just not think it was worth it anymore?

Well he did. He _knew _their relationship was worth it. She was all he ever thought about. Like his mother would say (one of her only sayings that hadn't been about allergies or flossing): That can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, world series kind of stuff. That's what love was. And if you can find it, you don't give it up for anything.

And he _knows _he found it. It has to be her.

With that in mind, he jumped up and, nearly tripping over his cart, raced after her retreating figure.

"Sam!" He shouted, finally catching her and grabbing her wrist.

Flipping around, she groaned at the sight of him, attempting to pry his fingers off her. "Freddie, seriously, this needs to stop-"

"It's just lunch, Sam." He reasoned, trying in vain to get his heart to stop racing and her mere touch. "That's it. Just old friends catching up. What harm could it do?"

A lot, she thought with a grunt. Especially when it involved her stupid fragile heart.

But frankly, she couldn't say no to that face. That desperate don't-you-just-want-to-kiss-me eyes wild expression that he only reserves for her. Or so she hoped.

"Fine…" she muttered, and he nearly jumped up in excitement. "Just old friends."

"Of course, bab-Sam." He slipped, attempting to recover before she rethought her decision. "Why don't we meet somewhere familiar? The Groovy Smoothie, for old times sake?"

"Freddie, that place closed down months ago." She informed him, and his mouth curved into a slight frown. "I guess our year kept T-Bo running, and so when we graduated and you all left, business dwindled down so much that he had to sell the place. It's a musky antique shop now – some old cat lady runs it."

"Wow… well, how about the park across the street? We can walk, get one of those hot dogs from the stands. Talk." He threw in, hopefully.

"Sure, whatever."

* * *

She was a forty-five minutes late.

With a groan, he paced along the park bench beside him. She wasn't coming. She stood him up. She's probably laughing from her house, at 'that gullible Benson".

Fifty minutes.

Finally, with one last resigned sigh, he straightened up, pulling out his car keys. No point in wasting his day here, if she wasn't even going to have the decency to-

There she was.

He tripped over his feet, the surprise of seeing her vibrant blonde hair nearly knocking him to the ground.

When they locked eyes, she almost looked disappointed. Almost.

That's when it clicked for him. The realization hitting him like a ton of bricks, so suddenly he almost laughed.

Pocketing his keys, he strolled up to her, a smile on his face.

"Fancy seeing you here, Puckett."

Rolling her eyes, she groaned lightly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm hungry."

"Already on it." He turned on his heel, leading her to the hot dog stands a few steps away.

"Three hot dogs please." He informed the man, until Sam's voice caught his attention.

"Three?"

He shrugged, "Two for you, one for-"

"I want seven."

With a slight grin, he nodded, turning back to the man. "Well, you heard her. Eight hot dogs, please."

* * *

Half an hour and four hot dogs later, she was sprawled out on the bench, leaving no room for Freddie.

He couldn't stop smirking.

Pulling out his phone, he typed out something quickly, before handing it to her.

_Three things on your mind right now._

Sighing, she tossed his phone back. "One, predicting how many hot dogs I can inhale in two minutes, two, that you're incredibly boring, three, listing other places I'd rather be right now."

Rolling his eyes, he let out a quiet laugh through his nose.

"What are _you_ laughing at?" She shot at him obnoxiously.

"I know what you're doing, Sam."

She froze, looking up at him slowly. "What do you mean?" She stammered, "I-I'm not doing anything."

"You're being as unpleasant as possible to get me to leave you alone." He smirked at the end of his sentence, like the statement didn't even bother him. Asshole.

"No I'm not. You've just been away for a while. This is who I am-"

"No, it's not. I know you. Even with me being gone for two months, I still know you. I know you better than anyone."

He definitely didn't expect her reaction.

"No you don't!" She nearly screamed, jumping up and turning to face him with wild eyes. "You obviously don't know me, if you're still trying. We _broke up_, Freddie. We broke up because you have things to do and places to go and-"

"I want to go to those places with you, Sam!" He shouted back and her eyes widened. "None of this shit is worth it if you're not there with me, don't you get it? I lo-"

"Stop!" Covering her ears in anger, "Don't say that! I don't want to hear it."

"And why not?"

"Because it's not going to help anything! God, you drive me _crazy_! Right when I think I've gotten you out of my head for one second, you show up and throw me for a whirlwind all over again. Just leave me alone, Freddie! Before I do something I shouldn't!"

"What do you mean?"

She let out a strangled scream. "Stop asking questions! Fucking moron-"

Freddie couldn't take it anymore. Without warning, he grabbed her hand, pulling her in and pressed his lips to hers. And he thanked the heavens that she didn't pull away. Instead, she seemed to mold into him, her hands lifting to clutch onto his shirt. Just as she found herself letting out a moan, Freddie pulled back, enough to look into her eyes.

"So what were you saying about doing something you shouldn't?"

She shook her head, her mind clouded over. But at his words, she clicked back to reality, backing away and dropping back on the bench.

Shaking his head, Freddie followed, "I know you feel the same as I do, Sam. You have to. If a feeling is _this_ strong, it just _has _to be reciprocated." She let out a small groan, but he wasn't going to take that.

He touched her arm, trying to get her attention. When she looked up, she felt like she'd been slapped. He looked so raw, so emotional. Not covering anything up.

"Please, Sam. I love you. So much, it hurts. Please, just be real with me. Tell me how you feel. Are you still in love with me?"

Oh, the déjà vu. But this time she didn't have the pressing question, he did.

Very quietly, she choked out the word, "Yes."

And his face lit up like a kid in a candy store. Stupid adorable Freddie.

"If we both feel the same, I don't see why-"

"Of course you don't. You're Freddie heart-on-your-sleeve Benson. You're naïve. You think love is going to fix everything. But you're wrong. There's so much more that can get in the way."

"Like MIT? Like jobs or opportunities? I might be naïve, but at least I believe in our relationship. I know we can get through the distance. We're strong enough to make it work."

He needed to stop pushing this _now_, because she was actually considering his stupidly convincing words. This was going to ruin everything she planned two months ago.

But it was so much easier two months ago because he wasn't actually physically _here_ in front of her with his musky smell and crooked smile and warm touch that left her tingly because _God_ it's been so long since she's felt it…

Suddenly, he reached for his phone again, furiously typing before shoving it in front of her face, so close that she had to lean back a bit to see it clearly.

_Will you give us another chance?_

_Screw it._ She's done thinking. How is she supposed to say no to all this anyway?

In reply, she pulled him in quickly, their legs getting entangled as she crushed her lips to his. At first he was frozen in shock, but soon she felt him sigh into her mouth. _Finally_. She could feel his hands burning hot on her body – one on the small of her back, and the other weaving through her blonde mane, and it felt so good, so incredibly good, she never wanted it to stop. She placed both hands on his neck, yanking his head closer while playing with the hair on the nape.

"I missed you so fucking much." He muttered between kisses.

She smiled against his mouth. Although she wasn't entirely ready to voice her own thoughts, it was nice to hear them coming from him. With a choice swear word as well, making it even more alluring.

With one last peck, he leaned back a bit, smirking at her with a sparkle in his eye.

"Your place or mine?"

* * *

The sunlight emerged from behind the half-opened shades, waking Freddie from his surprisingly comfortable sleep. With a sigh, he lifted his arm to rub his eyes, only to find it trapped under-

Sam.

Everything from the night before came rushing back to him. Seeing her, the park, her resistance, _Sam_, kissing her, _Sam_, their _amazing _night, _Sam, Sam, Sam…_

He looked down, smiling slightly at the sight beside him. _Fuck_, he missed her.

"Morning babydoll." He muttered against her ear, his voice gravelly from sleep.

"No morning." She whimpered back, flipping over so she could rest her head against his shoulder, while still lying on his bicep, which she used as a pillow. Luckily it was so large. "'S early."

"Yes, I know it's early." He humored her, running his fingers lightly up and down her bare side, causing her to shiver a bit at the contact. He glanced over at the clock reading eleven thirty before pressing on, "But there's always the idea of waking up when the clock is still in A.M."

He had to chuckle at her retort: "Overrated."

All further protests died out in his throat when he felt her lips on his neck briefly, before letting out the cutest noise he had possibly ever heard.

"Sleep please." She whispered, her eyes still closed.

"What if…" he began kissing down her jaw, hitting a sensitive spot and causing her to gasp. "we did something _else_…"

She seemed to weigh her priorities for a moment, before settling back into his arm again. "As great as that sounds, I can think of many reasons why sleeping is a better investment."

"Oh really?" He challenged, "And what are those?"

"One, you're probably still in Florence time zone, and we were up pretty late last night, so you must be tired too." She stated, her eyes staying closed but her fingers making their way up and down his back lightly.

He hummed his agreement, nodding for her to continue.

"Two, if we wait until 2 P.M., breakfast at the pancake place down the street is half off."

Chuckling, he nodded, closing his eyes briefly.

"And three," She let out a sigh, "You love me and want me to be happy. And sleeping would make me infinitely happy.

"So happy that I would probably do that thing you like once we wake up again." His ears perked up at that, "Which would be reason number four."

"Sleeping it is."

With a slight smirk, she nodded. "Knew that would work." Inching up closer to his body, she wrapped an arm around him. "Night, nub."


	9. Chapter 9 (November)

_From: The Demon_

_What's going on? I heard about your mom from Spencer, but all he knew was that an ambulance came to her apartment. I called you like six times but you're not answering… Just call me._

_From: Frednub_

_I'm sorry this is so late. I was on the plane when you called. I don't know the whole story, but I guess her heart just failed her. It was lucky she had some lady from her Aggressive Parenting meetings over or she could have been lying on her apartment floor for hours._

_From: The Demon_

_Where are you? How is she?_

_From: Frednub_

_We're at the hospital where she works. Virginia Mason Hospital. And she's… she's unconscious, Sam. They don't know when she's going to wake up._

_From: The Demon_

_I'm on my way._

_From: Frednub_

_No, it's okay. It's late, and obviously there won't be any new developments tonight. I'll just see you tomorrow._

Well, screw that.

* * *

Slamming her car door, Sam jogged up to the double doors that entered the hospital. Hurrying to the front desk, she banged her hand down to get the receptionist's attention. Her outburst disrupted the serenity that was the atmosphere of a downtown Seattle hospital at 11 P.M., and it obviously wasn't welcome, by the look on the lady's face.

"Can I help you?" She asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Yeah, what room is Mrs. – Marissa Benson in?"

"Are you a relative or-"

"No, no, just tell me what room."

The receptionist looked at her like she had grown three heads. "Well, considering visiting hours were over _five hours ago_, and you're not even related, I'm not allowed to let you past this desk, let alone tell you where a patient is currently residing-"

"God, no wonder these people are dying. They don't get to tell you their problem because you just keep talking." Sam shot back, rolling her eyes.

"I beg your _pardon_-"

"Oh, you'll beg me for more than just that when I'm through with-"

"Sam!"

Whipping around, Sam scanned the room before falling on Freddie's emerging figure. Her irritation faded as she took him in – messed hair, tired eyes, even the way he was standing. The poor boy had been through a lot today alone – it showed in all of his features.

"Freddie, this girl has been insisting she be allowed in your mother's room-"

"She's with me, Shirley, it's okay." He cut her off, to Sam's appreciation. She shot Shirley a smug sneer before turning around and moving towards Freddie.

"What are you doing here? I told you-"

"And you thoughta simple _text _was going to stop me?" Sam scoffed at the thought. "If anything it fueled my adrenaline. Any sign of her waking up?"

With a sigh, he shook his head, and her heart broke for him. He looked so defeated. "Come on, I was on my way to get coffee. Then we can go back up."

"No, I don't think so." She took him by the shoulders and steered him back towards the elevators, ignoring his protests. "I think coffee is the last thing you need right now."

"You can't expect me to stay up without-"

"I'm not _expecting_ you to stay up, that's the point. I'll stay up, you sleep." She pressed the up button on the elevator. "You look like you've been up for two days straight." He opened his mouth again, and she took it as an invitation to press her lips to his.

She knew she really shouldn't be enjoying this right now but _God_, did she miss it. It's been three months since summer, and although it wasn't nearly as long of a separation as the year before, it wasn't exactly welcome in her eyes.

When they separated, Freddie's eyes stayed closed an extra moment, making her think he might have missed it a bit too. Or he was just tired. Which wasn't impractical, in light of recent circumstances.

"You're sleeping. End of discussion." She shot him a look and he gave in with a sigh, pushing the button for the third floor. "When was the last time you ate something?"

With a groan, Freddie entangled his fingers with hers. "My mom's assistant brought me something a couple of hours ago. I'm fine, really-"

"Well, I'll be the judge of that." She stated simply as they stepped off the elevator, Freddie leading her to his mother's room. It was a short walk – she had the room second closest to the elevator, conveniently.

Walking in, the first thing she saw was a giant bouquet of flowers, varying in size and color, in an expansive vase just beside the door. Freddie really outdid himself. Moving further into the room, she took in the various machines and wires surrounding Mrs. Benson's frail body, and she almost gasped. She looked so… small. Sam had never thought of her as small before. Mrs. Benson had always been so strong, so mighty, dragging little thirteen year old Freddie across the hallway connecting his and Carly's apartment's for yet another tick bath or ointment application. Seeing her looking so weak… it was unnerving.

Shaking her head, she brought her focus back to the present to find Freddie seated beside his mother's bed, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and staring in the same way Sam had been. He had to have been here for hours, just sitting like that. With a sigh, Sam moved so she was behind him, dropping her hands to his shoulders and rubbing in silence. He let out a soft groan, dropping his head for a minute before leaning onto the backrest in exhaustion, and Sam let a small smile pass on her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the side of it.

"Are you okay?" She whispered in his ear, and took it as a positive sign when he didn't just shake her off with another lie.

"I- It just all happened so fast. One minute I was walking past the library on campus, trying to decide my coffee order, and the next-" He sucked in a breath, and Sam sat in the chair beside him, taking his hand and tracing circles on his knuckles. "Dr. Jones calls, telling me my mother had an… _accident_. And is there any way I could take the next flight out? I ditched my calculus exam. I've never missed a class, not once."

"I think your professor will understand." She cracked, trying to lighten the mood. Although he didn't laugh, he seemed appreciative.

"And then I show up here and there are doctors and nurses running all around her. And she's just lying there…" His eyes were dry, but she could see the fear and worry in them. She didn't know what to say. Not wanting to lie and state that everything would be okay because, what authority does she have to make that promise? So she settled for a topic change.

"You need to sleep, Freddie. Staying up all night isn't going to make your mom wake up."

"But, what if she-"

"I'll be here, okay? I'll wake you up right away. Now, move over here, so you'll be more comfortable."

It was proof of his exhaustion that he didn't put up a fight as she dragged him out of the chair. But before they reached the couch, Sam stopped, pulling him toward her and wrapped her arms around him. One hand on the back of his head, and the other wrapped around his torso, she held him there as he struggled to compose himself. If he found it strange she was being so touchy-feely tonight, he didn't comment on it, instead taking comfort in her embrace.

"I almost lost her." He muttered, his mouth pressed against her neck so the vibrations of his voice ran down her spine. "I still might lose her. If I had just been there-"

"You couldn't have been there, Freddie. You know that. It was time for you to grow up, be independent. And you being there wouldn't have protected her from this anyway. Don't blame yourself, it won't do anyone any good."

He was still for a moment, seemingly considering her words. Then, he nodded against her neck, pressing a quick kiss there.

She took that to mean he was all talked out, so she stepped away from him, leading him to the couch in the corner of the room. She sat down first, and he followed, lying his head down on her lap and stretching out as far as he could. As he got comfortable, she busied herself by running her fingers through his hair, picking up the remote.

"Do you mind if I watch TV? I'll keep it quiet."

He looked up at her, taking her hand in his. "You're volunteering to stay up all night so I can sleep, babydoll. You can have a freaking party for all I care." He placed a soft kiss on her palm, making the spot feel tingly.

"I slept until like two this afternoon. I think I'm well rested."

"I stayed up studying for that calculus exam." He informed her between yawns, "Pretty sure I didn't get to _sleep_ until two."

They sat in silence for a minute, his eyes closed as she lightly dragged her nails through his hair.

"By the way," she whispered, just to see him smile, "that 'babydoll' thing is even better in person."

Thankfully, it worked. His eyes opened, and his face broke into a slight grin for the first time since noon. "Oh yeah?"

She nodded, sliding her fingers down his neck slowly. "It's kind of sexy too."

"You know," He commented, moving to sit upright on the couch and cupping her cheek, "I didn't even really get to greet you."

She wasted no time in pulling him in, kissing him full on the mouth, her tongue gliding over his teeth and biting down lightly on his lip, causing him to groan. He forgot where they were or what they were doing or even how tired he was- all he could think about was her.

After a minute or so, she shook her head, leaning her forehead against his. "As much as I want to do this, you need to sleep, Freddie. And right now isn't really the best time or place."

He nodded, letting his eyes fall closed for half a second.

"Thank you. For being here. For sacrificing your sleep. " He told her sincerely, looking into her eyes.

She waved it off, "Just shut up and sleep, Frederly."

* * *

Sam entered the hospital the next afternoon, making sure to shoot daggers at the irritating receptionist before making her way up to Mrs. Benson- _Marissa's_ (Freddie insisted she drop the formalities) room. At seven this morning, Freddie had woken up and sent her home to sleep, telling her he would let her know if anything changes. She hasn't heard of any developments so far, but then again the nub hasn't texted her all morning so as far as she knew Mrs- Marissa could be getting it on with the obstetrician from the second floor in a break room by now.

Okay, definitely not something she needed to picture.

Marissa's door was open, so Sam walked in, swinging her handpicked bouquet by her side. Seeing as Freddie was obviously not here, she brought the bouquet to the table, arranging it beside Freddie's, although to be honest, she wasn't completely sure what she was doing.

"Hello, Samantha."

At the voice, Sam jumped nearly half a foot in the air. "Jesus Christ!" She exclaimed, whipping around and finding Marissa lying in the bed wide awake, a stern look on her face.

"I would appreciate if you refrained from using the Lord's name in vain, especially around me."

"Holy chiz," she said almost on impulse, before covering her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, Mrs. Benson. I didn't know you were going to be…" Shaking her head, she took another step towards the bed. "When did you wake up?"

"Around ten this morning. Freddie reacted much like you just did, actually. He must be hanging around you too much." Sam tried to repress her grin. "But please, call me Marissa. Considering you and my Freddie are now-" She cleared her throat, "_Romantically involved_, I think it's only proper."

She nodded, her heartbeat finally going back to normal. "Okay, Marissa. Oh, I… brought you these." Sam pointed to the bouquet, already beginning to sag. "I didn't have a chance to go to the store so I just picked them myself…"

"Oh dear, those are weeds." Marissa gave her a small smile. "But thank you, all the same."

Whoops. "So how are you feeling?" She asked, tugging on a piece of hair that didn't make it into her ponytail.

The woman shot her a knowing look. "Freddie's not here."

"Uh… I didn't…"

"You didn't have to ask, Samantha. I know you don't particularly want to be here talking to me. You want to see my Freddiebear. Well, you just missed him; he went to the store to pick up my ointment."

Okay, another unnecessary image.

"He should be right back, I'm sure you can wait for him in the waiting room."

Sam let out a sigh of relief. She did not want to wait in here and make small talk with Freddie's mom. "Thanks, Marissa."

"Oh, Samantha?" Marissa called just before Sam reached the doorway.

"Sam." She corrected, more out of habit than anything.

"Right, Samantha." The woman continued on as if she hadn't said anything, "Do clean up your shoes before you-"

"Yeah, yeah-" Sam waved her off absentmindedly.

"You are tracking dirt and mud all over-"

"Hope you feel better!"

Shutting the door on her way out, she sighed again, before pulling out her phone and angrily typing out a message.

_From: The Demon_

_Why didn't you tell me your mom woke up?_

Luckily, he picked up her impatience and called her back within the time it took for her to walk across the hall to the waiting room.

"Nub," came her usual greeting.

"Was that supposed to be a question, or…"

"I was up all night with you! You could have at least shot me a _text_ letting me know-"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to leave you out of the loop. Really. I just didn't get a chance. I've been in and out since she woke up – she keeps thinking of something else I need to do or get. You'd think three types of vitamins would be more than enough."

"Where are you?"

"The drugstore down the street. I'm checking out, I'll just be a minute. I'm guessing you're at the hospital?"

"You guessed right, Fredface. I brought your mom weeds."

"Oh, how… kind of you?"

"I didn't expect her to be awake! If I knew, I would have actually sprung for some real flowers. Now mine look pathetic next to your huge bouquet."

"Well, considering I am her _son_, I think mine are supposed to look a little-" He cut off with a gasp. "Oh my… you're trying to impress her, aren't you?"

"What? Of course not, why would I care-"

"Because you're dating her son, and you don't want her to hate you." He finished, smugly. "Wow, I never thought I'd see the day where Sam Puckett is trying to get along with my mother."

"Just shut up and get over here." She replied irritably, ignoring his claims.

"Maybe you can go to those aerobics classes with her. She's been complaining she doesn't have a partner."

"Officially hanging up on you now."

"See you soon, babydoll."

She groaned. "You know, calling me 'babydoll' isn't going to make up for whatever you pestered me about during the preceding conversation. If anything, it will just give a bad rep to the pet name."

"Okay, okay, dropping it. Walking to my car, I'll be there in a sec."

* * *

"Hey, you."

Sam looked up from the magazine she was pretending to read, and upon seeing Freddie, threw it down in disgust.

"Oh thank God, if I had to read one more 'celeb secret' I think I would have to be admitted into this place for self-destruction."

With a laugh, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her back to his mother's room. "No one is forcing you to read those, you know."

"It's either that, or people think I'm open for small talk. I turned down two desperate guys in that 'sec' it took you to get from the drug store to here." She concluded as Freddie pushed the door open into his mother's room.

"Okay, Sam, I'm sorry for being late." He muttered to her, slight laughter in his voice, before turning to Marissa. "Hi, mom. How do you feel?"

"Tired, mostly." She informed him, and he pulled the bedside chair closer, leaving Sam to awkwardly wonder what to do. The other chair was nowhere to be found, and the couch was all the way across the room. "I think it's the congestion, which is keeping me awake. My feet and ankles are swollen as well, which is caused by the fluid."

"Well, I'm glad you know all the symptoms." He told her with a slight laugh. "Have you talked to the doctor?"

But Marissa wasn't listening, instead looking up at Sam. "Did you want a chair, dear?" She asked, making Sam jump.

"Oh, it's okay. I've already aggravated about three fourths of the staff here, so no one is going to come by while I'm around, especially to bring me a chair…"

Chuckling, Freddie shook his head, leaning back and opening his arms. "Well, come on then."

Both girls stared at him in shock. "I do not think that is entirely appropriate given the circumstances-" Marissa started, and surprisingly, Sam agreed.

"Yeah, I'll have to side with Craz- I mean, your mother on this one. Probably not the best-"

"Oh, hush, you two." Freddie reached out and grabbed Sam's wrist, pulling her to sit on his lap, despite her best efforts to get loose. Ignoring her protests, Freddie wrapped his arms around her waist and turned back to his mother.

"So, did any doctors come by since I was last here?"

It took Marissa a moment or two to tear her disapproving eyes away from their seating arrangement so she could respond. "Ah… no, they did not. They said they would be coming in within the hour."

"Well, we'll wait here then. I'd like to talk to them. Is that okay with you?" He asked, looking up to Sam's face. She gave him a slight nod, then after a moment, gave him a pointed look, shifting her eyes to his mother and back.

He struggled to contain his laughter.

"So, uh, mom," He started, holding Sam a bit tighter. "Sam is just finishing her first year of school too."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" She exclaimed, looking up at Sam. "Where do you attend school?"

Sam sighed. Not the topic she had in mind. "Seattle Central. I'm majoring in Marine Carpentry."

When Marissa's face fell, Sam knew that wasn't the right thing to say. "Oh, carpentry, you say? Isn't that more of a…" She seemed to be searching for the right word, "_manly_ job?"

"Actually," Freddie interrupted, hoping to salvage the situation, "Sam's in the top five percentile of her class."

"How did you know that?" She whipped her head to him, accusingly, "I definitely refrained from telling you that."

"Yes, and I don't know _why_ you did, but I saw the notice on your desk during our last video chat. And your school is completely viral, so you can search for it too, if you know how to look."

She groaned. Should have known the nub would figure a way to find out.

"Well, that is fantastic, dear." Marissa continued, actually sounding sincere. "I'm glad you have decided to turn your life around."

Freddie poked her side, reminding her to bite her tongue, which she did reluctantly. She wasn't really used to holding her tongue about anything.

"I'm proud of you too, babydoll." He whispered in her ear, causing her to shiver, which in turn made him smirk against her neck.

"Shut up." She murmured back, but soon cut off as his hand began its descent down her side, making her squirm because it's been so long and _God_, any little thing could rile her up.

"Mom, we'll be right back, okay? I want to track down a doctor." He swatted her butt lightly, causing her to jump up and glare at him, but he just shook her off. Taking her hand, he led her out of the room before she could retaliate.

"Dude, what the _hell_ was all that?" She shouted with a whack to his stomach. "You know I'm trying to make a good _fucking i_mpression to your crazy _endearing_ mother and I need all the help I can get because it's _obviously _not working and you can't just _do_ things with your hands like that and expect me to-"

He had ignored her throughout her whole speech, dragging her down the hall at rapid speed until finally coming to stop in front of a janitor's closet, unceremoniously pushing her in.

"You know, spontaneity is more my thing." She informed him as he locked the door nervously, "You should just stick with your innocence."

"Oh, you took that from me long ago, babydoll."

And then his mouth was on hers and his hands were everywhere and she couldn't help but want more, more, _more_.

Whipping her top off, she pushed him down on an upturned bucket, straddling him while she moved her tongue in and out, exploring his mouth.

"I fucking missed you." He muttered between breaths, tearing his mouth away from hers and trailing it down her collar bone.

"I can feel it." Grinding down on him, he groaned as she smirked, finally having control again. She tugged at his shirt, and he raised his arms for a second so she could throw off the offending clothing, recapturing his mouth with hers.

"We can't do this here…" He protested as she pulled down his zipper. "I don't even know if that door is locked. It could open at any-"

She continued kissing him, dragging her fingers down his chest. "Then what was your plan when you dragged me in here?"

"I- I don't know. I wasn't entirely… thinking straight." At that, he pushed her away lightly, looking into her eyes.

"Tonight. I promise. I'll take you out, and then we'll go back to your place."

"What about your mom?"

"Her sister Susan is coming to look after her. Should be here by then. I'll probably come back afterwards though and sleep here. That okay?" He asked, seeking confirmation.

With a groan, she stepped off of him. "Better make it count, Fredalupe."

"I will. Don't worry. You go home, okay? You've spent more than enough of your time here. I know it takes you less than twenty minutes to get ready, so go rent a movie or something, and I'll pick you up at eight. Sound good?"

"Sounds formal." She wrinkled her nose as she pulled her t-shirt back on, making him laugh.

"Well, I don't think I've ever taken you on a proper date, so this will have to be the first."

Groaning, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. I want steak."

"Okay, I'll make sure there's steak."

"And bacon."

He hummed his understanding, pulling his own shirt on and starting to button.

"And buffalo wings. And fries. And mac and cheese!" She exclaimed, staring to bob up and down with excitement.

He laughed, placing his hands on her shoulders to hold her down. "Okay, I got it. American it is."

"But I mean, Chinese sounds pretty good too…"

"Get it for lunch then."

At his words, she stopped in the middle of the hallway, staring at him with a small smile on her face.

"What?" He asked, looking back at her questioningly.

She shook her head to clear it, "Nothing. That was just… the right thing to say."

With a roll of his eyes, he waved her off over his shoulder. "Don't stuff yourself. See you in 6 hours."


	10. Chapter 10 (November)

"Pini's? We're going back to Pini's?" Sam asked, stepping out of the car before Freddie could get over to her, much to his dismay.

"Just relax." He assured, taking her hand and leading her to the door.

"Again, this is… Pini's." She repeated, looking around. "I said steak, Fredamame. I didn't even get a chance to get in the Pini's mindset-"

Suddenly, Freddie flipped around, pulling her close and cutting her off with a lingering kiss.

"You," He mumbled to her, his voice gravelly, "need to stop talking."

"Not my fault." She responded a moment later, once she regained her comprehension. "The prospect of food distracts from my ability to be silenced."

"You were never able to be silenced."

"Well food makes it even more impossible." Sam deadpanned as Freddie beat her to the door.

With a grand gesture, he delivered in a fake French accent, "Right this way, m'lady."

"You're a nub, m'lady." She shot back, pulling him by his shirt to drag behind her.

Catching up, he brought them to the front of the line, to the customers' irritation, and announced to the waiter: "Table for two, if you please."

"I'm sorry, we are completely b- Samantha!" Javier looked up, catching Sam's eye, a grin spreading across his face. It quickly dropped to a grimace, however, upon recognizing Freddie. "Oh, and the _friend._"

Freddie pulled at his collar proudly, "Oh, well-"

"Actually, Javier," Sam jumped in, catching on quickly and taking Freddie's hand, lifting them intertwined, "this is my _boy_friend, Freddie."

"B-b-boyfriend?" The waiter stammered, looking back and forth between the two.

"Yep. Been together for a year." Freddie stated, beaming.

After a minute of blank staring, Javier pulled himself together, putting on a stern expression and turning to his book. "Well, if you don't have a reservation, we can't seat you."

"Don't bother." He quipped, leaning in close. "We wouldn't dine here anyway. Got a reservation elsewhere. But it was nice seeing you, Javier, we really should catch up." Flashing a cheesy grin before turning to leave. Sam waved to him over her shoulder on the way out, then as soon as they were out of earshot, stopped and turned to Freddie.

"Dude, you could have told me what you were planning." She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look.

Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Freddie looked toward the ground. "I knew you would hate it so I didn't say anything… I'm sorry, Sam. I just… really needed to do that. I know you hate it when I parade you around, but he's stupid and French and has a stupid French name but you chose me, not him, so I needed to rub that in his stupid French face-"

This time it was Sam's turn to interrupt with a kiss.

"The only thing I'm upset about," She told him, holding fistfuls of his shirt, "is you insulted Pini's, and now I might not be able to go back there again." With that, she slapped his chest, albeit lighter than she used to. "I love that place! You can't just go around insulting people's favorite restaurants, Freddie. Didn't your mom teach you manners?"

"I promise, I found a place that's even better."

She gasped, "Say it ain't so!"

"You'll see. You're going to love it."

* * *

"So, I'm a little confused…" Sam told him as she looked around the restaurant that Freddie dragged her to. El Gaucho, an expensive steakhouse just 10 minutes from Pini's.

"I mean, this is a nice place and all, but I don't really see how it's 'even better' than Pini's."

"Just wait."

With a sigh, she opened her menu. "Fine, I'll humor you. For now."

"That's all I ask." He winked at her over his own menu. "Oh look, 24 ounce steak."

He didn't even have to look up to know her eyes widened, scanning the menu fixedly as fast as they could. "Now you're talking."

* * *

Once the waiter took their orders, leaving a basket of breadsticks in the menus' place, Freddie leaned across the table.

"Is there anything you've always wanted to ask me?"

"I don't know if you noticed Fredburger," Sam started, waving a breadstick around to emphasize her thought. "But I don't exactly have a filter. Anything I wanted to ask you, I've asked already."

Laughing, Freddie shook his head. "Come on, there's gotta be something. I know I have some."

"Then why don't you start?"

"Fine, I will." He pulled a pen out of his pocket (he seriously brought a pen?), picking up a napkin and writing his question in the upper left corner.

"You have better handwriting than I do." she noticed as he finished writing. "That may be a cause for concern."

"Shut up and read the question." He insisted, pushing the napkin closer to her.

"What's your favorite color? I thought we established the quality of this question a long time ago, Benson."

"But I still don't know the answer."

Rolling her eyes, she sighed. "Fine. Red."

"Why?"

"Because I look_ way_ hot in that color."

He had to smile at that. "Okay, I'll give you that one. Your turn."

Surprisingly, instead of protesting like he expected, she simply took the pen and started writing. (Smack dab in the middle of the napkin, to his irritation.)

_"How often do you talk to your dad?"_

"Probably about once a week."

"That often?"

"Yeah, normally on Tuesdays. But I didn't get to talk to him this week, with all that's been happening."

She nodded, falling silent, which he took for a sign that she was finished.

_"Do you think about your dad a lot?"_

Biting her lip, she tapped her nails on the napkin. "Uh... I guess."

Nodding, he took her hand in his, half to silence it and half for comfort. Sam rarely, if ever, talked about her dad. He knew it was a sore subject, but he also knew that she needed to talk about it. And what better time than the present?

"Sometimes," she started again, staring fixedly at a spot on the table. "I guess I think about what my life would have been like if he hadn't done it. If I had noticed, or done something to prevent it. Maybe he would have been putting me through school now. Maybe I would have turned out different."

She looked up suddenly, catching his eyes. "But honestly, I don't like to think about it that much. What's the point, if none of its true, you know? It's not going to change anything."

She stopped, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Nodding, he gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting go. "That's okay."

The server came with their meals, placing a plate of pasta in front of Freddie, and a hearty sized steak in front of Sam.

He could almost see her mouth watering. Good thing she snapped back so quickly.

"It's your turn by the way."

Sam groaned, taking another napkin and scrawling out her next question hastily before getting back to her precious steak.

_"What does yours know about me?"_

After he read the question, he smiled, taking a bite of his pasta. "Oh, tons. It changes every day though - one I might be bragging about you, and the next I'm complaining. He loves hearing about you though. Thinks you've 'got a real spark'."

She tried to hide her smirk behind a giant forkful of steak, "Probably one of the better comments I get."

"He wants to meet you."

Freezing, her fork floating in the air, she stared at him. "What?"

"I said it would be too hard now, considering we hardly have time to see _each other_, but maybe one day..."

He trailed off, but Sam picked up the words unsaid. Maybe one day, when there isn't four thousand miles of land separating them. Maybe one day after she graduates. Maybe one day... When they have a more permanent living space. Her heart raced at the thought, but she played it off as best she can.

"He might rethink that 'spark' comment after that happens."

"And instead maybe he'll find you as infuriating and amazing as I do."

She snorted, "Are you trying to set me up with your dad? Sorry dude, I don't know if I could handle that age difference."

"Gross, Sam." he rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly.

They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence, with Sam alternating between gulping down giant forkfuls of steak and unabashedly stealing almost half of his pasta, until both plates were clean.

"Did you save any room for dessert tonight?" Their waiter offered as he cleared their table.

"I think I definitely-" Sam started, only to be interrupted.

"No, we're fine, thanks."

Sam glared at him. "Are you kidding me right now?"

With a laugh, Freddie waved off the waiter, ignoring Sam until he paid for the meal and was already walking out the door.

"I can't believe we didn't get dessert. They had flambé, Freddie. _Flambé_."

"Oh, that sounds nice." He noted distractedly, looking around over her head as he guided her by the small of her back across the street.

"What are you doing? Stop pushing me!" She swatted his hand away, but he just put it back, leading her past groups of people smoking in front of a jazz club.

"You really need to stop freaking out and just let me handle the directions, alright?" He informed her amusingly, as she tried yet again to step away from his hand.

"Why won't you just tell me what we're doing?" When all she got in response was another shush and squint toward a street sign, she let out a sigh. "You know, I am a girl. Which means I have the ability to scream, and everyone in the vicinity will think you're trying to kidnap me."

"Ooh, feisty." Freddie laughed, "Except the curiosity will get the better of you because you _know_ that whatever it is that I'm planning is going to be so worth it, but you just don't want to admit it."

There was a pause, and then she mumbled in reply, "You are too confident in your date planning."

"That's because I'm just that good. And here we are." He stopped proudly in front of a small building that, in Sam's opinion, looks just like every single other building on this street.

"So where is 'here', exactly?" Sam asked as he pushed the door open, leading her through the doorway in the same irritating way as he led her down the street. Instantly, the sweet smell of frosting filled her, almost distracting her from the utter _cuteness_ of the place – are those seriously _board games _on that stool?

"It's just this little place I found called The Yellow Leaf Cupcake Company. And it just so happened to be only eight minutes away from El Gaucho**."**

"So this is what we ditched the flambé for? A cupcake place?"

He nodded, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Except, this isn't any old cupcake place."

"Oh really? What makes this place so special?" Sam asked grabbing a menu and carelessly flipping it open.

Freddie pulled her closer to his side, leaning down so his mouth was right beside her ear.

"They have bacon cupcakes." He whispered, and her eyes lit up. Suddenly, this place didn't seem so disgustingly cutesy anymore.

"I am in heaven."

"Of course I'm getting you dessert. What kind of boyfriend do you think I am?" He mumbled in her ear as her eyes scanned the menu, kissing her on her temple.

"The most perfect boyfriend on the planet- oh my gosh they have one called 'Pancakes n' Bacon'."

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he scanned the menu in her hand. "I think I'll just stick with plain-"

"If you say a plain chocolate cupcake I swear to God I will strangle you with my bacon."

"Well, what else am I supposed to- woah beer cupcakes?" Yanking the paper from her hands, Freddie perused it more thoroughly, causing Sam to laugh.

"Dude, I want one of those too."

Stepping up to the counter in awe, Freddie ordered his beer cupcake, leaving Sam to request her five varying bacon and alcoholic desserts. Once they received their cupcakes, they moved to one of the few tables and Sam dug in.

"Wait!" Freddie pulled out his phone, holding up a hand to pause Sam in her inhaling of 'Pancakes n' Bacon'.

"If you're about to write me a question at a time like this, Freddie, I swear-"

"No question." He shook his head with a grin, "We just need to document this. Sam's first bacon cupcake."

She tried to hide her smile. "Just hurry it up."

"Okay… go." He pressed the camera button on his PearPhone just as Sam took her first bite, capturing her purely blissful expression.

"That is _honestly_ the most glorious thing I've ever tasted." Closing her eyes in delight for a moment.

Freddie wiggled his eyebrow at her, playfully. "The _most _glorious, really? That's not what you said a few months ago-"

"Oh, shut up." She rolled her eyes before setting it down and looking back at Freddie. "Okay, you're turn. Beer cupcake. Go, go!"

Laughing, Freddie passed the phone to Sam and slowly unwrapping his own cupcake. "Okay… here it goes." Taking a small bite, he lifted his eyebrows.

"Woah, that's strong."

Sam let out a loud laugh. "You're such a wuss, it's just beer. I got the Irish whiskey one too."

"I think I'm good with my beer."

Twenty minutes and four cupcakes later, Sam had collapsed halfway across the table, nibbling on her last cupcake.

"You know what they should make?" She asked, holding up her last bite of cupcake. "Bacon rum cupcakes."

"Oh, God," Freddie shook his head, laughing. "That sounds disgusting."

"That sounds _delightful_." She countered, shaking her head. "It would be such a great business deal. I'm going to go tell them-"

"Sweetie, no," He grabbed her around the waist before she could move back through the doors, "I think they have more than enough flavors already."

"But I want bacon rum." She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping her foot for emphasis.

"I think you've had quite a bit for one night, actually."

* * *

After Freddie (finally) dislodged Sam from her hold on the cupcake store door, they made their way home. Sam was, for lack of a better word, tipsy. Which she emphasized greatly as she leaned on Freddie as he drove them to her house.

"You're cute when you're focused."

He smirked, wrapping an arm around her to keep her from toppling over, "Then how come you weren't falling all over me in Chem junior year?"

Expectedly, she ignored him, inching her fingers up his arm into the sleeve of his shirt. "I feel funny."

"That might be because you had three alcohol-drenched cupcakes and all those mojitos during dinner." He enlightened, shaking his head, "I still don't understand how you so easily get past the whole you're-under-21 thing."

"Fake ID, Fredwardino. You should really get yourself one."

He laughed, "Fredwardino, that's a new one."

"I'm obviously an elephant drunk." She surmised, knowingly. He decided to just let that go.

They pulled into her driveway, and he hastily met her at her door before she got a chance to impale herself on the side view mirror.

"Okay, I'm going to try to sober you up a bit." He assured her as he half-carried her into her house, depositing her on a kitchen stool while he grabbed her a glass of water.

"What if," she started, abandoning the stool to press herself against Freddie's back, "I don't _want_ to be sober?"

"Well then we'd have to skip out on all my plans for tonight. Because I'm not having sex with you while you're drunk. You won't remember any of it."

"Sure I will," she insisted, yanking his shirt out of his pants and plunging her hands up to feel his skin. He all but groaned, trying to hold his composure.

"Sam, don't." Freddie warned her, pulling her hands away and handing her the cup of water. "I'm not going to let you seduce me. Now drink."

"You're no fun." She stated, crossing her arms and actually stomping her foot on the ground to punctuate her sentence.

"Exactly. You want me to be fun?" He asked rhetorically, taking her hand and placing the glass in it. "Then you need to be sober."

With a dramatic sigh, she plopped back on the stool less than gracefully, gulping down the water quickly.

"I'll be in the bedroom." He called over his shoulder, "Come in when the room stops spinning."

* * *

"That was…"

"Best sex we've ever had?" Freddie finished, helpfully.

She sighed, cuddling up next to him. "Definitely. Thanks for sobering me up."

"I'm just glad you're not a lightweight. Would have made the whole process a lot more difficult."

"I would disown _myself_ if I were a lightweight. So not the Puckett way."

With a snort, he wrapped his arms around her a bit tighter as her breathing began to slow.

"So… can I ask one more question?"

She hummed in response, which he took as an affirmation.

"What was your relationship with your dad?"

She stiffened in his arms, fully awake now. "Freddie, I _really_ _don't_-"

"You don't want to talk about it, I know. But… don't you think you maybe need to? Have you _ever _talked to anyone about it?

After a few moments, she shook her head a little from its position against his shoulder. He held her, stroking her hair and waiting for her to be ready. Because as much as she claimed she didn't want to talk about it, he knew she would give in. It was too big of a part of her life to just ignore.

He had to wait a little under five minutes, during which time he thought she fell asleep, but she finally sighed, "I loved my dad. He was some of the only stability in my life, with my mom being how she is. He took me to Mariners games and movies. Normal dad stuff. He was… my best friend, I guess. Obviously, we weren't perfect. But, it felt perfect. For a while at least.

"I probably should have noticed the change. The signs were all there, looking back on it. The fights between him and mom got worse and worse, and soon they became these giant screaming matches, with glass shattering and stomping out. It was always my mom who threw things and stormed out. My dad just went back in his office every time. He was held up in his office more and more, not coming out until I was already in bed. But he always came to kiss me good night and tuck me in, so I never really gave it much thought."

She buried her face a little deeper in Freddie's shoulder, and he knew the worst part was coming. "And then one day, he didn't come in. It was nine o'clock and I was waiting, but he never came. So I went to his office to see… and that's when I saw it. I found him. On the ground, in a pool of blood…" Her voice shook slightly.

"We took him to the hospital instantly, but obviously that didn't stop it." She stopped for a moment, taking deep breaths, and Freddie tightened his hold on her.

"I think that's probably why my mom is the way she is, so distant and unreliable. She never really came to terms with it, never let herself get over it…" Trailing off, she shrugged, struggling to breathe normally again.

He didn't even know what to say. "I'm sorry" seemed wholly insignificant. So he just held her tighter, stroking her back as she attempted to clear the image out of her head.

"Thank you for telling me that." He whispered, but she didn't respond. Instead, she lifted her head, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Then, resting her head on his shoulder again, she drifted off to sleep, emotionally and physically drained from the day.

Freddie watched her for a few minutes, stroking her hair in a way that if she were conscious she would label "disgustingly cheesy", before silently standing. At least he would get to see her once more tomorrow before going back to school.

With that, he walked out of the house, locking the door behind him. To the hospital.


	11. Chapter 11 (November)

Banging open the door, Sam stumbled in, unceremoniously dropping her bag on the ground and kicking off her shoes in one disastrous move. Class sucked today, to be quite honest, and she wanted nothing more than to drop on her bed and silently mourn the absence of Freddie.

_Clank._

Sam jumped, turning her head towards the kitchen where the noise originated, freezing in her tracks. What the _hell _was that?

She heard some more shuffling and instinctively grabbed for her butter sock in her sweatshirt pocket. Lucky she carried it everywhere.

Inching toward the kitchen, she took deep breaths, her eyes hardening. Whoever was in here could not have picked a worse day, considering the mood she was in.

After a few agonizingly long moments, she reached the opening to the kitchen, slowly wrapping the sock around her arm for better aim. Maybe she could hit the target in one swing, and she wouldn't have to deal with an actual fight.

_One… Two… Three_

Jumping into the doorway, she began to swing wildly, making sweet contact with a hand.

"_OW!_ Fuck, Sam, it's me."

She froze, dropping her sock on the ground in surprise. "Freddie?" Her face broke into a grin, and she launched herself into his arms, her eyes closed tight.

"Woah there," he laughed, catching himself on the counter before he toppled over. "That was a quick transition."

"I thought you were a burglar! Don't _do_ that!" She shouted, whacking him on the shoulder, "What are you doing here? I thought you had to go back to school this morning?"

"I lied." He grinned cockily, "I leave tomorrow night. This was _supposed _to be a surprise, because you told me your class on Thursday ends at five thirty, not four forty-five."

"Yeah, we had a test so I got out earlier." She explained, separating herself from him, "Sorry about your hand- what the hell is all this?"

Finally starting to look around the room, she took in three packs of empty bacon, two nearly empty rum bottles and a very powdery white Freddie.

"Uh… art?"

"Spencer would have a heart attack if _this _is what you consider – woah." Her eyes widened, "Is that… what I think it is?"

Freddie turned his head to the object in question – a small rack of cupcakes. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well… you were going on about those bacon rum cupcakes, so I thought…"

She looked up at him in awe, "You _made _some for me?"

Shrugging, he admitted sheepishly, "Well, I tried. The bacon didn't really stick inside very well... so it's kind of chunky. I made a whole batch earlier, but they didn't make it past the fiery depths of hell, also known as your oven." He glared accusingly at the appliance.

"Baby," he turned toward her, his eyebrows quirked in surprise, but she just stepped up taking his face in her hands. "It's perfect. You're perfect. Thank you." She stood on her tip toes and kissed him lightly.

Shaking his head a little, he smiled, "Wow… baking makes you nice. Good to know."

Before he had time to react, a mountain of icing was caked on his face, causing him to take a step back in alarm.

"Gotta keep you on your toes." She said with a slight smirk, already taking a bite of one of the untouched cupcakes.

All of a sudden, a pile of icing was mushed onto the side of her face. Looking up in surprise, she saw him with a tube in his hand, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Oh, it's on now.

The icing war left marks throughout the whole house: starting with the kitchen, with droppings all over the living room floor, until finally making its way to her bedroom – completely staining her bed sheets, but they were a little too preoccupied to notice.

* * *

Afterwards they didn't speak, just relished the time they had left together, but the thumb tracing circles on his side never ceased. He let his fingers trail up and down her side, chuckling when she shivered.

And honestly, he thought he could very well lie here with her for days and never get bored.

"You know," he whispered to her, so as to not disrupt the serenity in the air, "our anniversary is coming up."

Shifting slightly, she shrugged, "Oh, is it?"

He rolled his eyes, "Don't pretend you didn't know. I know you know the date."

"Hm…" she pretended to think about it, tilting her face towards his. "Sometime in… December, was it? Or February?"

"You're hysterical." He deadpanned, giving her The Look.

She decided to take the high road and pretend not to notice. "Oh, I know I am. But it's nice to hear you say it every once in a while."

In response, he rolled over to the side (waving off Sam's grumblings about losing her pillow) to pull his phone off the charger.

_If we were together on our anniversary, how would you want to celebrate it?_

Pushing the phone away, Sam ran her hands up his chest, looking him straight in the eye. "How do you _think _I'd want to spend it?"

"Sam-"

"I'll give you three guesses, but if it takes more than one you're sleeping on the couch."

"Sam, seriously!" Freddie insisted, laughing slightly. ("I was being serious…" She protested quietly.) "What would we be doing?"

Flopping backwards on the bed, she groaned. "What's the big deal about anniversaries anyway? It's just one day. I think it's stupid that people are only expected to do something special on one day out of the year. Why not just do something special because you _want _to, not because society expects us to. We could treat literally any day of the year like our anniversary-"

"Woah there," he cut in, narrowing his eyebrows at her, "I… didn't know you had such strong feelings against anniversaries."

"People just make too big of a fucking deal out of them. I don't like being _expected _to do things on a given day. Isn't it better when it's a surprise?"

"Well…" he stuttered, taken aback at her complete rejection, "yeah, surprises are nice, but I like the traditional aspect of it." ("Of course you like it – you're a complete sap.") "It marks our time together, and the day is supposed to be a physical embodiment of our love for each other."

"Well, I think it's pointless."

Freddie sat there, speechless. He really had no reason to feel hurt – he couldn't say he expected Sam to go along with the idea. He knew she'd be resistant. But to be totally against it? It was such a simple thing – their anniversary. He just didn't understand why she couldn't just… give him this one thing. Just one day.

"Fine, whatever." He sat back, crossing his arms slightly. If she's going to crush his ideas then he definitely has the right to be a baby about it.

"See?" She insisted, not catching the desolate tone in his voice, or the way his eyes fell, losing that little spark, "It's not a big deal. Now," Crawling back up to him, she began pressing feather light kisses on his neck, "where were we?"

But Freddie just shook his head, already moving to stand and begin searching for his clothes. "I think… I'm actually just going to go."

That caught her attention. Looking up to him, she narrowed her eyes, emotions flashing through them quick as lightning – confusion, hurt, until she stopped on anger. "What? Why?"

"I should check on my mom."

Pursing her lips, she stood up as well, "Well, I'll come with you-"

"No, you just stay here." He told her in a clipped tone, pulling on his shirt.

She rolled her eyes, sighing, "Are you _seriously _pissed about that anniversary thing? It's just one fucking day, Freddie. It's not like I'm taking away Christmas or something-"

"It's not just one day, Sam!" He exclaimed, whipping around to face her, successfully cutting her condescending statement short. "It means something to _me_, but that doesn't matter to you, does it? If it doesn't fit into Sam's little bubble of comfort then it's insignificant."

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to-"

"You _know_ what that means. Don't play dumb. You _obviously _control every little thought in this relationship and it doesn't even matter to you right now that I may be hurt by all that shit you said."

He caught a glance at her, biting her lip slightly but not giving in, never giving in.

Sighing, he turned away. "Look, if you don't want to celebrate the fact that we've spent a year in love with each other, I don't care. It obviously doesn't matter to you, so I guess I should just get over it. Maybe I'll just get over everything."

With that, he walked out of the room, dragging his sweatshirt on the ground beside him. She collapsed back on the bed, watching him go until she could no longer see his flour-splattered button down.

Upon hearing the front door slam, she wrapped her arms around her knees.

_Shit._

* * *

_Knock Knock_

"Oh Freddiebear, that might be Debra," his mom shouted as he made his way to the door, "tell her the sugar bowl is on the counter, rinsed out and rid of all toxins!"

Pulling it open, he was struck still by a floating heart box of chocolates thrust in his face.

"Uh, what-"

"Hi…"

He stopped once he heard the voice, holding onto the door steadily.

"What's this?" He gestured to the box she held in front of her face, and she lowered it sheepishly, fingers playing with that stupid frilly ribbon wrapped around it.

"Well, you're all into this kind of stuff and since I screwed up I thought a heart shaped box of chocolates might help make it a bit better… I didn't even eat any of them." She said all this to the ground, of course, because this was already far too much for her to do without adding _eye contact_ into the mix. "The chocolates were really supposed to make this easier but they aren't doing their damn job in being magical and lovey dovey and all that shit that gets advertised-"

"Wait…" he stopped her in her tirade against commercial candy, holding a hand up, "Are you… are you here to _apologize_?"

"Well, don't sound so shocked. It's been known to happen… at least one other time in my life."

Sighing, she pushed the stupid box into his hands before she got a chance to throw it, stuffing her hands in her back pockets. "Okay look, I'm s-" She stopped, taking a deep breath and choking the word out. "_sorry_. I know you're into this anniversary sappy shit, and I shouldn't have shot it down so roughly. And I should have noticed you were upset. And I'm just…"

She trailed off, scuffing her shoe on the ground. "Fuck, I'm sorry okay? I was a total bitch yesterday. I just… don't want you to be pissed at me anymore. And I didn't want to hurt you. God, I definitely didn't want to hurt you." She repeated, more to herself, with somewhat of a resigned sigh.

With a small smile on his face, he set the box aside, instead using his hands to pull her into a tight hug. She immediately deflated, burying her face in his shirt and taking a deep breath.

"I love you, Freddie." She muttered into his shirt (it was much easier to get everything out now that she couldn't see his face). "I'll celebrate any goddamn day you want, I promise."

He chuckled lightly, pulling away a little to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry, too. I threw all that stuff in your face about that bubble-" ("But you were _right_.") "And I didn't have to blow up at you like that. Especially considering that was our last night together."

"So… are we okay?" She asked tentatively, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

He smiled, entangling his fingers with hers. "Yeah, we're okay." He tugged her forward a step with their intertwined hands, leaning down to press a long kiss on her lips.

"Can I ask you something though?" he probed, wrapping his other arm around her waist.

"You just did." She mumbled in between kisses.

Resting his forehead against hers, Freddie looked her in the eye. "Why were you so against it in the first place?"

Letting out a groan, she shrugged, leaning back slightly. "I don't know…" she played with their fingers, buying herself time to think. "I guess it just… freaked me out. I mean, we've been together for a _year_, Freddie. That's about eight months longer than I ever expected to be committed to _anyone_. And actually _celebrating _it makes it just that much more… real. And terrifying."

"Okay, I get it." Nodding, he ran a hand through his hair. "But I'd wish you'd get over your commitment issues. It makes me nervous…"

She sighed, looking down at the ground. "I know… I'm trying."

Suddenly she looked up again, wiggling her eyebrows, "But I know you have a few hours to kill before your plane ride…" she hinted, stepping up so her body was pressed against his. "And I can prove to you just how much I'm trying…"

"My mom's here, Sam." He chortled. She immediately stepped away, looking frantically over his shoulder.

"What?" she demanded in a harsh whisper, "You didn't tell me – and we were – she could've seen-"

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. "She's on bed rest, and she can't hear us."

Sam let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Oh…. Then does that mean I have to go?"

Freddie shook his head immediately, pulling her arm again. "No of course not. Please don't go; we've already ruined last night. I don't want to miss out on this time too. Come in, we can at least hang out for a while. And you can come with me to the airport?" he suggested, hope in his eyes.

She pretended to think it over as he led her to his room, grabbing her around the waist and causing her to let out an involuntary squeal. "Oh, I _guess_ I will..."

* * *

_To: Frednub_

_Happy anniversary, you dork._

That had Freddie smiling all the way to Christmas.


	12. Chapter 12 (June)

Freddie pushed past a few groups of people, stopping at a small stand in front of the doors.

"Ticket." The lady stated dryly, holding out her hand without even looking up. Freddie cleared his throat.

"Uh, hi." She peered up at him, her glasses resting on her nose. "I actually don't have a ticket."

"No ticket, no seat." She told him, already turning away. "Next."

He took a step closer to the stand, shooting an apologetic smile at the man behind him. "Mygirlfriend is graduating, and she didn't exactly want me to know-" The lady gave him a strange look, and he quickly corrected himself. "She's not really into this sort of thing, and I go to MIT and she didn't want to make me come all the way down here I guess. But I'm here, and I was hoping to surprise her…" He trailed off at her uninterested expression.

"Don't you guys give free tickets to the graduates?" He offered, hopefully.

"Yes, they each get two."

"Great, so she would have given me one of those. Samantha Puckett?"

With an exaggerated sigh, the woman turned to the list in front of her, flipping through the pages. "Her tickets have been accounted for already."

"You mean she… she used them?" He asked in disbelief. _Who could she have invited? _

Rolling her eyes pointedly, she drawled, "That is what that means, Mr. MIT."

He checked his anger, instead putting on a fake smile. "Okay, I'll just buy my own ticket. How much are they?" Freddie asked, pulling out his wallet.

"All tickets are sold out, in case you couldn't read the sign." She tapped an acrylic nail at a sign attached to the stand, shooting him another glare. "Now, I think you're all out of options, so if you will kindly _step aside_, I can seat the rest of the-"

"Are you here for Sam Puckett?"

Freddie flipped around, coming face to face with a man, probably in his sixties, with a full gray beard and clad in a loose-fitting plaid shirt and baggy khakis.

"Uh… yes I am." He affirmed, warily. "Do you know her?"

He nodded, shooting him a smile. "She is – well, was I guess now, huh? – one of my students. I'm Gary, the Marine Carp teacher here."

"Oh!" Freddie smiled, shaking the man's hand. "Sam told me a lot about you – your class was by far her favorite."

"Quite a handful, isn't she?" Gary laughed, "But a natural worker – she flew by in my class. By far the best student – though you can't tell anyone I said that. I'm not technically supposed to have favorites." He winked at Freddie, "But Sam is special. I hope you can get her to take that carpentry job, she seemed on the fence about it-"

"Wait, what job?" He asked,

"Oh, did she not say anything about it? Figures. One of my buddies has a job opening, about a mile and a half down the road. She'd be perfect for it."

"Really? That's incredible!" Freddie beamed, excitedly.

"Well, only if she takes it. But, you're her boyfriend, right? You might be able to get through to her better than I can."

"Oh, I don't know about that. But I can try."

"Well, either way, I'm glad you're here to see her. She told me no one was coming."

"Yeah, this was supposed to be a surprise. But it won't be all that great if I can't get in to see it…" He trailed off, dejectedly.

To Freddie's surprise, Gary let out a hearty laugh. "You do know who you're talking to, dontcha? I've been working at this dump for nearly thirty years. I practically run the place. Just go on in."

"Wait, really?" He stared at Gary, a slight grin on his face, "You can get me in?"

"Of course I can. Anything for Puckett."

"Thank you so much, Gary." Freddie told him, sincerely, and Gary just waved him off.

With a wry grin toward the lady behind the stand, and one final wave to Gary, he passed through the doors that led to the ceremony. Altogether, he had to admit the place seemed rather un-spirited. It looked like a regular gym, the only decoration being a lopsided banner congratulating the class of 2014. The people, for the most part, seemed bored as well, fanning themselves with their ticket stubs and avoiding eye contact.

Freddie found his seat just as a man in a suit began his ascent up to the stage. Introducing himself as the dean of admissions, he welcomed everyone to the ceremony, giving a speech about the grandeur of this milestone. Those surrounding Freddie were either picking at the cracked plastic on their seat or asleep.

Sitting up taller, Freddie tried to search for Sam in the sea of caps and gowns, but was unable to find her. This wasn't that big of a surprise, however, considering there were at least 500 people in the exact same outfit.

Finally, the dean finished his speech and began calling the names of graduates. By the letter N, Freddie began to get worried, seeing as the crowd had condensed quite a bit, and he still couldn't find her.

Suddenly, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned towards it to find a blur of blue and gold, and a glimpse of blonde hair sneaking from the back door to the line of graduates. Freddie's face broke out to a grin.

"Samantha Puckett."

Jumping up, Freddie cupped his hands around his mouth. "Sam!" He cheered, and Sam's head whipped toward him from the stage, scanning the crowd. When her eyes landed on him, they widened, and her jaw dropped, causing her to almost drop her diploma. She hurried back off the stage, and Freddie couldn't control the grin on his face.

When the ceremony was finally over, he rushed outside to meet her. However, she found him first.

"Ow!" He let out, turning around to find his girlfriend, her face bright red in anger.

"How _dare-_" she swatted him with her diploma,_ "-_you just _show up _here-" with her cap now as well, "-without even _telling _me-" finishing with both of her hands shoving him, "-you _nub_!" She stood there in front of him, out of breath, and all he could do was beam.

"Blue looks good on you."

She let out an angered yelp before launching herself in his arms and kissing him full on the mouth.

"I'm so proud of you, babydoll." He mumbled in between kisses, and he could feel the involuntary shiver creep down her spine.

"I _hate_ you." She claimed as she kissed down his jaw.

"Well if this is the way you greet the people you hate, I don't think I mind being hated."

"You are such a nub." Sam informed him, finally separating from his neck and standing still in front of him, her hands on his shoulders. "Now will you tell me what in the _hell_ you are doing _here_ when you told me you had to stay at school for an extra week?"

"Is that a question?" He asked teasingly. When all it did was made her glare more prominent, he tried a different approach.

"It's your graduation, why wouldn't I be here?"

"Because I didn't _tell you about it_!" She shouted wildly, and he couldn't help but laugh again. He knew he better start stifling it, because she was getting angrier by the second, and soon the reaction wouldn't be so funny anymore.

"You think just because you regretted to inform me about it meant I wasn't going to be here? I already knew you weren't going to tell me. But I also knew it had to be coming up, so I started checking in on the website every now and then. It's a wonder how they manage to keep that website updated, when they can't even spring for programs."

"It's a cheap school." Sam stated, and he nodded, taking her hand in his and beginning to lead her in the direction of his car.

"Yeah, well, it's still your graduation. They could have at least printed your name on something besides your diploma – which by the way, we're totally framing that."

"_Ugh_." She groaned loudly, and he shrugged.

"If you don't let me put it up in your place, then it's going in my dorm at school. Your choice."

She decided to ignore him. "How did you even get in? The tickets were sold out."

"Yeah, and _apparently_ someone took the tickets you were supposed to get, too." He shot her a pointed look. "I met your Carpentry teacher, Gary? He got me in. Who took your tickets? Obviously they aren't here for _you_, considering you haven't had anyone else running up to you." He paused, and then added as an afterthought, "Right?"

Sam shook her head. "Don't get your panties in a bunch. I didn't invite anyone else. I just gave my tickets to this other girl who needed them."

Freddie nodded, smirking slightly, "Oh, so I was talking to Gary, and he told me something interesting..." he chimed, and Sam narrowed her eyes, tugging his arm a little as they walked.

"What did he say?"

"Well, besides that you were his favorite," Sam smiled to herself, "He said he offered you a job."

At that, she stopped walking, turning slowly to face him. "Uh… yeah, he did."

He took her arms in his hands, shaking her slightly, grinning. "And you didn't think that was important to _tell me_? That's amazing, Sam!"

She shrugged, digging her shoe into the ground. "It's not that big of a-"

"Stop shrugging everything off, this is really exciting! Are you going to take it?"

Shrugging again, she looked up at him, "Do you think I should?"

"Well, is that what you want to do?" He asked, looking at her intently.

"It's what I just spent two years of my life on…"

"That's not what I asked." He insisted, pulling her to the side to let some people pass. "Is it what you want to _do_?"

Sam was silent for a moment, looking down at the ground. Then suddenly, she looked straight at him, nodding.

"Yeah, it is."

Freddie grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and starting to walk again. "Then take it. It's an amazing opportunity, it's close by, and I know you'll love it."

After a moment, she smiled, just barely. "Okay. I will."

"Good."

"Yeah, yeah." She poked his side lightly, tossed her hat and diploma in his free hand, and took off running toward his car, dangling the keys.

It took him a minute for his mind to catch up, but when it did, he let out a half groan-half laugh. "Sam! You are _not _driving my Volvo!"


	13. Epilogue (February & on)

Sam rolled her neck as she walked, making her way to baggage claim. She hated airports with everything in her, and the nub better be damn pleased that she gave in and took a plane to come see him, instead of insisting on driving like every other time. (He claimed it will give them more time if she flew, because she wouldn't have to leave earlier to make it back in time for work. She just agreed because he offered to pay.)

Where the hell was he?

Picking a table at random, she climbed on top and peered over the dreary crowd. It was nearing on five in the morning and she was dead tired (there was some old fat man leaning his seat so far back he was practically in her lap the whole flight – little to say she didn't sleep much) and all she wanted was to drag him to his bed and use his conveniently giant bicep as a pillow to sleep for at least five hours.

She was honestly debating just taking a cab to his dorm at this point, until she spotted one of his stupid striped shirts about ten feet away. As soon as she caught a glimpse of his nubbish figure, standing on his toes to see over the crowd, she threw caution to the wind and jumped off the table, unceremoniously dropping her carry on and nearly landing on top of an old couple sitting at the table beside her, beginning to run. It was like any cliché movie airport scene: Sam running toward him, Freddie spotting her, his distracted eyes lighting up, bracing himself for the impact.

Unlike movie scenes, however, Sam and Freddie were much less graceful, and didn't have the advantage of a run through beforehand.

Basically, they collided and fell backward, Sam sticking her hand out to break her fall and - luckily or unluckily, depending on whom you ask - accidentally catching Freddie's head before it banged the ground.

"Ow, nub!" She shouted, pulling her hand away quickly. "You have a hard head!"

"Not my fault you ran into me!" He shot back, waiting in vain for Sam to get off of him, "Could have judged your distance a little better."

Instead of another comeback, Sam just stopped, hovering her body over his and looking into his eyes, "I missed you."

With a smile, the accident was completely forgotten, and Freddie gripped Sam's waist. "I missed you, too. But before I kiss the living daylights out of you, we should probably be standing upright, considering there are security guards glaring at us for this PDA."

She rolled her eyes, scrambling off of him and reaching a hand to pull him up, which he took, albeit warily.

The second he was standing upright, she launched herself at him again, softer this time, but still succeeding to lift her legs around his waist in an attempt to get closer. He wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her to keep her from falling, with his other hand quickly becoming entangled in her long mess of blonde hair.

"God, I missed you so much. I'm so glad you're here." He muttered as he made his way down her jaw, blatantly ignoring the crowd pushing past them with varying reactions of disgust or amusement.

"If you would just quit that stupid school then you wouldn't have to miss me." She returned, knowingly, and he laughed.

"Or you could just stop being stubborn and move out here with me."

As soon as the phrase left his lips, he stopped, leaning back to look at her. They had been joking back and forth about her moving out to Massachusetts, but that's all it had been – a joke. Until now, that is, because he was seriously thinking about it and _why not? _It's not like she had all that much keeping her in Seattle, besides her job, and she would have just as good of an opportunity to build boats in Massachusetts as in Seattle.

Sam unwrapped her legs from his waist, and he slowly placed her back on the ground.

"I'm… I'm serious, Sam. Why not?"

Shaking her head, she looked at the ground. "I can't just… _leave_. I just got a job, I'm finally making stable money-"

"Honey-" The grimace on her face brought him back to reality. He sighed. "Okay, fine. I won't push you on it. Just… think about it, okay? I only have another year at MIT, you're done with school, there are _definitely _job opportunities here – in fact, we can look for some while you're here, if you want." He caught the excitement in her eyes, just before she rearranged her expression to the indifferent mask she so effortlessly carried.

"And we don't even have to stay here for that long, just until I'm done with school. Then we can go wherever you want. We can go to Canada and live next to that Fat Cake Headquarters."

"Oh my God, could we really?"

Grinning, he wrapped one arm around her waist, leading her to the double doors to exit the airport.

"Anything for you, love."

Rolling her eyes, she bumped her shoulder against his. "We can talk about this later. Let's just go back to your room and sleep, nub."

* * *

_To: Frednub_

_Where the hell are you?_

_To: The Demon_

_Went out to pick up milk – you forgot to get some after work – _again_, might I add. Be home soon, dear._

_To: Frednub_

_Not my fault you drink like two gallons a day. Hurry back, I can't sleep without you here._

_P.S. Don't call me dear._

_To: Frednub_

_Oh and the dryer is broken again._


End file.
