


A Lady's Alphabet

by KFD



Category: iCarly
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-19
Updated: 2009-01-03
Packaged: 2013-07-06 00:09:55
Rating: T
Chapters: 38
Words: 10,427
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4547760/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1016985/KFD
Summary: Z is for Zodiac. It's been great guys and gals, but I fear that this is The End for a while.





	1. Accident

Accident

I watched her, her blonde hair flowing wildly in the wind, and her beautiful eyes blazing angrily at the coffee throwing male.

He threw his cup in our direction, narrowly missing us as he did. He screamed at us, calling us dykes and abominations in the eyes of God and all religion. He left us amazed, not by his homophobic words, but by the fact that he thought we we're a couple.

He got me to think. Could I be_ with_ my best friend, and would we suffer this kind of stuff everyday if we _were_ together? I don't think so, the majority of people, especially the ones our age, are generally accepting of same-sex relationships. We'd be okay, but could we actually _be together_ in the romantic sense.

It's not like we aren't even _slightly_ interested in each other. Who carries their _best friend_ who they have absolutely no feelings about up sixteen flights of stairs because they passed out at a party and Lewbert was having a picnic in the elevator? Hopefully not Sam, I hope she was trying to show devotion by doing that. She's a bit odd that way, and a little bit closed off. Emotionally I mean.

Anyway, she's fully prepared to go and kill the man, but my hand on her shoulder seems to instantly calm her, strange how she always reacts that way an accident, or coincidence perhaps?

She looks at me questioningly, but I only offer a chaste kiss on her lips.

* * *

**Sequel number two is officially started, I'm so proud. Start a story based of the alphabet, and a month later its having five or more sequals, makes a parent proud, really.**

**Anyhoo, this one's gonna be 38 parts long. Yes that's right _38_ parts to an _Alphabet-_esque story. I shall invent 12 all new and improved letters! Or do more than one part for S, U, V, W, X, Y and Z (isn't that much more sane?)**

**So, review, fav, and put this on you alert list, The faster you do, the faster we can move onto _Blackmail_ (and we all wanna see Sam be blackmailed, right?)**


	2. Blackmail

Blackmail

Sam sat at the breakfast table, which was different to the dinner table, hungrily digging into her breakfast, not knowing what horrors were waiting for her, just a few bites away.

"I know what you did," said Amy, triumphant glee floating through her voice.

"Was it last summer?" Sam asked, totally ignoring the fact that the cultural reference would be lost on the seven-year-old.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, what did I do?" Sam asked, pulling the small girl into her lap.

"You know what you did, and I'm gonna tell Mommy," she said, mischievousness ringing into the Saturday morning sunlight. "Unless..."

Sam looked at her daughter in disbelief. Was her sweet, innocent and adorable baby girl about to blackmail her?

"Unless you take my out to the park for the _whole_ day, without one second of your usual complaining," demanded Amy, her eyes flaring with determination and anger.

Sam recoiled, why did her daughter think that she had to _blackmail_ her Mama into a day out? But Sam already knew the answer. Despite what their youth suggested, Carly ended up being the 'fun' parent, while Sam, after years of hard work from her love, became the disciplinarian in the family. She was the 'mean' one, the first to nix any silly idea her wife or daughter had. But she wasn't aware that it'd become _this_ bad.

"Which park would you be wanting to go to?"

"Any one you want to take me to?" Amy asked rather then replied.

"Good let's go then!"


	3. Choose

Choose

Sam sat her desk, typing at her computer while waiting for her wife to show up. She finalised one last report, took off her glasses and leaned back in her very comfortable chair. Sam shut her eyes, savouring the thought of no paperwork, the mere idea of her and Carly spending a few hours away from their jobs.

However, paperwork walked in the door, wearing a very arrogant grin. Captain Arrogant, as Sam secretly called him, knew that there was nearly nothing she could do to seriously stop him from misbehaving. Despite political and social progress, money was still the most important language that the higher-ups knew.

Boy did Sam know about that, mostly from one of Carly's lawyer rants. Something about stealing money being more harshly punished than killing someone. At the time Sam just shook her head and wondered how society got so greedy, forgetting about Carly's exclamations the next day.

Then Captain Arrogant transferred into Ridgeway, the school Sam had taken over when her mentor/father-type-person Theodore Franklin retired. By that time she was fully educated and qualified for the job. With his transfer came the total loss of her power over the 'elite' members of the student body.

"Now, _young man_," she started, knowing it annoyed him," you have to choose a road here-"

"Lemme guess, right from wrong?"

"No actually, a few thou' here and there compared to the millions Daddy'll lose when my lawyer wife prosecutes him for bribery."

Sam enjoyed beating arrogant, rich people.

* * *

**I'm back! What? Can't a married woman spend a day or two totally devoted to her wife?**

**Anyway, how are you guys liking the Sam and Franklin daughter/father relationship I seem to be insisting on?**

**Next up! Carly gets in her car and goes, baby goes!**


	4. Defeat

Defeat

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. It was almost an unconscious reaction to my name being called over the radio. I wasn't nerves; I never got nervous during a race. Mostly because my Sammy was sitting in the stands, cheering her heart out for me.

Me sitting here in my brand new, whiter than white car, and her cheering me on. I kind of feel like Speed Racer. I wonder if he loved Trixie as much as I love Sam. But I'm not going to think about that, I know it's not possible, and I have a race to win.

The first half of the race goes predictably. I hung around at the back of the leaders, knowing how my car was built for slipstreaming, fuel saving capabilities. I use them each and every race to get that edge on my opponents, the reason I'm now world famous for more than just my comedic talents.

We edge into the final few laps, the leaders, myself included, several laps ahead of everyone else. The crowd is on its collective feet, screaming, chanting and yelling general sounds of encouragement for their favourite racer, or for a crash to happen soon.

I predictably won, easily sliding past my opponent on the last corner, winning by half a second. I was all but carried off the track.

I took to the podium, holding my oversized bottle of champagne victoriously while my opponents considered their defeat.

Later with Sam, the _real_ celebration will begin...

* * *

**A new update so soon, mostly because I'm not going to be able to be online for three days (nothing to do with the _one_ review I've gotten so far for _Choose_)**

**Cya in three days guys!!**


	5. eBay

eBay

I wasn't worried about Carly's birthday. She never expected anything particularly special from me. Nor did she expect any extravagant gift that cost several hundred dollars, like most of Freddie's did. I swear he's compensating for _something_ by being annoyingly forward and spending the money he made on _eBay_. She simply expected something I'd put a decent measure of thought into.

Believe me, I put _a lot_ of thought into her present that year.

My mind drifted to the typical teenaged girl gifts. Clothing was my first stop, store after store of cotton, polyester and Lycra. I was not pleased by what I saw, everything was either too slutty or not slutty enough for my honed 'what-would-look-awesome-on-Carly' sense of fashion.

Then came jewellery. It went out the door much faster, my budget making the choice for me. It was probably for the best, especially because Freddie came up with a ring so big, Carly couldn't lift it with a single hand. This particular fact amused me to no end.

It went like this through each and every idea I could come up with. Almost as fast as it took me to come up with an idea from a present, my mind already had a perfectly logical argument against it.

Then the epiphany hit, oddly enough as I was talking to Rip Off Rodney about the cheapest way to make money. I would make her one thousand origami flowers.

I'll have you know, my flowers did much better than Freddie's ring.

* * *

**I claim real-life and my wife's birthday for my absence. That and a three-day heat wave/Mega-Mind-Block.**

**Next: Sleepover time for our girls in _Faggot_!**


	6. Faggot

Faggot

I hate it when Carly does this. She knows that I absolutely cannot stand people other than her, yet she still manages to find ways to force me to be around _people_.

Like tonight, she's managed to keep this silly sleepover a secret from me. Four teenaged girls, screaming along with Carly as they drool over the hottest star of today, while I mull over my options. I could either take some headache tablets and pray for morning, or I could act like they are and use my finely honed lying skills to bluff my way through female non-Carly encounters, like I always do.

The second option seemed much better at the start of the night, and since it's now one in the morning, I can't switch plans.

As we sit in Carly's room, watching some technically good looking guy chase after his girl in the rain, I find myself lulled into sleep from the shear lameness of the movie. Unknown to me, my head fell onto Carly's shoulder, her arms wrapping around me waking me instantly. We stare at each other and I'm vaguely reminded of a scene from _The Sampsons_.

"_You bug me to high hell and back, but I love you anyway_," Carly says along with the woman on screen.

"_Like you don't give as good as you get?_" I reply, acting as innocently as the man on screen."_I suppose I love you too."_ We giggle nervously.

"Faggot," says one of the other girls. Black-eye-from-Carly-Shay suits her.


	7. GaGa

Ga-Ga

"Ga-Ga," said Sam, holding a rattle. The baby ignored her.

"Maybe if you sweet talked it?" Carly suggested hesitantly. She really didn't want to get involved, but her morals got the best of her.

"I ain't sweet talkin' a baby! That's just insane, and wrong. Especially with _this_ baby," replied the blonde, regarding her baby with a disgusted eye.

"It was just a suggestion," Carly said, holding her hands up in mock-surrender. "If you didn't want to take care of him right, then why did you make him a baby?"

"Since when did sweet talking become part of raising a new-born?"

"_That_ is _not_ a new-born, Sam."

"I _know_ that. Oh, do you mean talking nicely to it? Like, being all kind and stuff."

"Yes Sam, I want you to try being nice to _him_."

"How do I do that?"

"You don't know how to be nice?" Carly asked.

"I do know how to, just not how to be nice to a baby."

"Well then, why are you doing this, with the baby and everything?"

"Oh, I wanted to see if I _could_ look after a child. Apparently I can't," said Sam, angry with herself for failing.

"Do you _really _think that _this_ is an indication of whether you'll be a good mother someday?"

"Well, you seem to be great at it."

"Then I'll be the mothering parent and you can be the cool-but-hopeless-father-type."

Freddie stared at Carly, wondering why he was still tied up and in a baby's outfit.


	8. Heroine

Heroine

Heroine

The station was quite until fate stepped in. Then the bell sounded and the location was sent to the computer. Nothing was going to stop them, not a red light or peak hour Boston traffic. The boys were pumped and ready for a fight.

Samantha Puckett, the only woman in Boston's top firehouse, had a bad feeling about this one. The fire was in an apartment, second to top floor, the smallest and cheapest one in the lot. It was reported by the caller that there was a young woman and her baby were trapped inside. That was where Sam's bad feeling came in.

Every trapped young woman around her age became Carly in the blonde's mind. They hadn't spoken for three years, not since Carly had dated that one manipulative bastard that managed to tear the teenaged girl from her family and friends.

Sam was now twenty-two, about to be promoted, and living comfortably with her girlfriend. But she still wasn't happy; she didn't have her Cupcake there beside her, together.

They arrived, piled out of the fire engine, and started work on getting the unknown woman out of the fourth floor apartment. Sam was sent up into the building to play the heroine and save the day.

She burst in the door, locating the woman instantly. Her eyes locked with Sam's for the first time in years, pleading with the same glint they did years ago. Sam didn't recognise it until now.

She had to save her girl!


	9. IM

IM

IM

Sam had just left and curiosity had gotten the better of the usually respectful young woman. The blonde girl had left the IM client signed in on the Shay computer.

Carly approached the computer with a sense of unease about her. She rationalized her snooping as making sure that Sam wasn't doing anything illegal on the shared computer. After seeing the conversation Sam had left open, Carly found herself almost wishing that her girlfriend were planning a drug smuggling operation or something like that. It would have been much better than what Sam had said to some guy Carly was fairly sure she'd never met.

The conversation was a long one, and it was surprisingly about Carly herself. It was to some male person, older than Sam, who was in a two-year relationship with a girl at his school. Apparently, he'd only managed to get to second base with this girl, and was asking Sam's advice on the matter. He'd found her through the web show, just after they'd announced their relationship on the show.

They'd talked about the perfect date and how to treat a girl properly. Then he asked Sam about how far she and Carly had gone. Sam answered truthfully; they'd gone all the way. He then proceeded to ask her how she'd managed to get a girl to sleep with her. She told him.

What she didn't tell him was that she'd be naming and shaming him on the next _iCarly_. Carly couldn't have been happier.


	10. Jealous

Jealous

The Peterson family lived in a three-storey home. It had top of the line furniture, each and every gaming console, and three kids that filled every hope a parent could have for their child. Their dog was a champion of its breed, their oldest child, a girl, was going to college while preforming in the most well renowned orchestra in the country, and the middle and only male child was currently in his third year at Harvard. The youngest girl was an Olympic athlete and her school's sporting hero. Yet they were not happy.

The Millers were reasonably successful artists of all kinds. They had no kids, fourteen different types of pets (some of which they needed permits to even _handle_), and they lived in a cosy two bedroom house. Their home was furnished with artwork they'd made themselves, they ate only fruit and vegetables they'd grown themselves, and they celebrated every holiday they could find. But they weren't happy either.

The Puckett-Shay family called their two-storey, three-bedroom house home. They had twin children who were not geniuses, but nor were they slow in academia. They twins got their fair share of awards, Emma for her soccer vice-captaincy and Evan for his consistently good grades and superb test scores in Mathematics, but never quite qualified for things like the Honour Roll. Carly and Sam Puckett-Shay made their living from their TV series, and loved their kids very much. They were very happy, and both of their neighbours were extremely jealous.


	11. Karma

Karma

Karma was always a funny thing to Sam. No matter how bad everyone told her she was, karma never seemed to touch her. She didn't get any major backlash from her misdeeds, but nor did she get any particularly good rewards for her brief moments of good.

Sam found that karma also had a way of punishing those around her for her actions. For instance, whenever Sam did more than one seriously bad thing per month, then Carly would have to take the blame and would end up in trouble.

However, if Sam did anything good it put Carly in a good mood, then Freddie would be able to capitalize, hitting on her frequently, and he _actually_ got away with it. Then there was that one time she agreed to go on a date with him. Sam nearly threw up at the nerve of the nerdy boy!

A plan was needed to stop this awful and sick date from ever happening, so Sam enlisted the help of Spencer and played heavily on his brotherly tendencies. It was quite simple really, the second Freddie tried anything on Carly, both Sam and Spencer would be there to play the over-protective roles.

Needless to say, it went perfectly. Until Carly figured out the Sam had talked Spencer into going along with it. Bad karma hit Sam with years of pent-up energy.

"How could you? Why did you do that Sam?"

"I-I think I was jealous."

Before good karma rewarded her, with a kiss.


	12. Ludicrous

Ludicrous

"Fine! Go be with your dyke friend! You _never_ want to spend time with me, Sam," yelled Ms Puckett as her daughter slammed the door. Sam ran down the five flights of stairs to get to the sidewalk. She ran along the side of the road, desperate to get away from her neglectful and verbally abusive mother. With her blonde hair flying behind her, she didn't stop running until the _Bushwell_ building was in sight. Until Carly, Spencer and even Freddie were within her grasp. Until her _family_ was near.

But Sam didn't dare go inside yet, her hair was a wind-swept mess and tears were still streaming down her face. There was no way she'd let Freddie get this much ammunition on her. Nor would she let Spencer try his own un-orthodox methods of getting something out of people. There was _absolutely_ no way that Carly Shay was going to see her like this. Not if Sam could do anything to help it.

She pulled off her jacket, allowing her body to cool down from the run. Sam wiped her eyes and face, making sure to check her self in a nearby pane of glass before patting down her hair. It would not do for Carly to see her like this. She didn't want to other girl's pity, no Sam wanted her lo-

_No,_ thought Sam angrily. _I don't love her!_

But she knew she was denying it was ludicrous. Sam sighed, pushing open the door to Carly's building.

**

* * *

**

Sorry for the lack of updates guys! I've recently managed to find myself behind on work and movie/TV-watching commitments/hobbies, so this kind of hit the backburner for a while there.

**Now, however I seem to have an influx of time despite moving the whole house around.**

**_Important!!_ I do have a number of reviews/number of hits (whichever comes first) that I wait for until I post the next part. I'm not telling you what it is because I find that practise to be strange and confusing.**

**Also, if you're a high-school student, don't complain about teachers giving you homework. Remember that your teacher's have to go through whatever you hand in, and the good ones spend quite a while on grading them.**


	13. Mine

Mine

I happened years ago. Before Freddie, before _iCarly_, and before the coming-out party that earned itself fifteen complaints.

It was back when the only way to express that you liked someone was to hurt them. At that young age, introducing myself to someone was never easy, so I decided to demand her food instead. It was the logical thing to do when presented with a pretty girl such as Carly. Of course, being the lovable Carly that she was, she denied my attempt at being nice (I didn't injure her, now did I?). When I stole the sandwich and pushed her off her seat she immediately returned the favour. Thus, Prince Derrick and Odette lived-

Wait! That isn't right, Carly and I have never been anything that even closely resembles at fairytale. Let alone one involving swans and songs.

I'm digressing, I usually do when forced to complete a task. I was talking about that one moment. Ah, such a great moment it was.

Just after I declared that she was all right in my very strict books, her older brother showed up. Now, I will confess to a short-lived crush on Spencer. But it was only because he was tall and older than me. It only lasted a few minutes anyway.

When Spencer announced that Carly's father was home for the day, and he was there to take her home, I felt something.

I felt that I never wanted to be anywhere but by her side. Awesome moment, huh?


	14. Night

Night

Carly finished cooking dinner, transferring the spaghetti into a serving bowl and placing a serving spoon into the mix.

"Sam, Spencer, Freddie!" she called into the apartment, beckoning Sam especially over to her from her place on the couch. The blonde was behind Carly in an instant, her arms wrapped around the taller girl from behind, her head resting calmly on Carly's shoulder. The brunette held up a piece of spaghetti to the blonde's mouth. It was gone a mere second later, followed by a groan of approval from Sam. "Good?"

"Better than usual," replied Sam, disengaging from her girlfriend before setting the table with help from Spencer.

"There's usually something wrong with my dinners?"

"N-no, that's not w-what I m-meant t-to say C-C-Carly." Carly kissed her fiancé's stuttering lips, silencing any further attempts of placing her foot into the mouth that Carly quite enjoyed footless.

"Sit down," she ordered softly before directing the two males in serving the food.

"Shall we say grace or shall we just eat?" asked Spencer as Sam completely ignored him, digging into her food with her usual ferocity.

"Dumb question, Spence," Freddie replied sarcastically, setting up a rather large fight between him and Sam.

"No fighting tonight, guys," Carly stated, wanting this night to be calm and nice.

"Or what?" they replied in unison.

"Or Sam will be on the couch tonight and Freddie will be banned from this house for a whole day," said Spencer, smiling. "What? I've heard you punish them enough!"


	15. Official

Official

To Sam, the office was closing in more by the second. She was so focused on her claustrophobia that she didn't even notice Principal Franklin walking in. But boy did he notice _her_.

Sam was hunched over in her usual seat in his office, before school hours and before even the Administration staff had arrived. Only the janitors and the Principal were here this early. Sam was hunched, slumped over even, as if she'd been in the chair for a while.

Ted Franklin shut the door a bit harder than necessary, startling the teen as he suspected it would.

"Sam?" he asked cautiously, it wasn't everyday you found Samantha Puckett at school earlier than she needed to be. Official pretences were dropped immediately.

"Sorry I broke in. The sun was up so I figured you'd be here," Sam apologised and explained in a very slow voice, scratched from what sounded like a night of coughing. She looked up at him, her bloodshot eyes startled the Principal.

"What _happened_ and why are you _here_?"

"My Mom threw me out and I didn't want to go to Carly's house, too many questions that I just might answer for her."

Ted's heart went out to the young girl, his mind running through the channels he'd need to go through to help her. "Questions from Carly are bad now?"

"She'll feel bad and blame herself."

"Why?"

"Mom threw me out because I came out to her. Which I did because Carly begged me to."


	16. Politics

Politics

I never really paid much attention to hallway gossip, mostly because it was usually pointless for me to listen in on teenaged girls talking about which hot guys were single and which girls were the latest to lose their virginity. Neither of these topics applied to me anymore. I'd lost it to Sam in a tipsy, clumsy, glorious-beyond-words accident, and I was gay. Not a lesbian, but gay. It annoyed me that there was a distinction, still does.

As I've said, I didn't listen to gossip, but there was that one little bit of information that wafted through the halls to my ears, that one tiny morsel of chatter that just _had_ to find its way to me.

"_Did you hear that Freddie Benson and Sam Puckett totally did it the other night?"_

I was torn between screaming, killing the girl who said it, finding Freddie to kill him, or hunting down Sam for some 'girl talk' (the fact that 'girl talk' would have involved much killing is beside the point). I did none of them, instead I chose to wallow in despair.

To my surprise, later on that afternoon while I was curled up on the couch with a large tub of low-fat ice-cream, Sam and Freddie burst in the door together. _That_ did wonders for me.

"It's all social politics." "As if I'd sleep with him," came out of their mouths simultaneously.

"I wouldn't do that to the girl I love," blurted Sam, Freddie's jaw dropped in response.


	17. Quirky

Quirky

Sam moaned into the kiss, her hands reaching around to undo Carly's bra. Her fingertips grazed the tender flesh between her lover's shoulders, prompting a groan of pain from the brunette. Sam stopped all movement, staring at Carly with question clear in her eyes.

"I-um- I dropped the soap in the shower and hit my back on the knobs when I got up," said Carly, wincing internally at her poorly constructed lie. She downright cringed when Sam sat up and tried to get a look at Carly's back. "What are you doing?"

"I'm checking to see if it's all right," replied Sam, not noticing the fear in her love's voice. She continued to try to get a good view of the alleged injury, until Carly stilled her with two firm hands clasped around strong forearms.

"It's fine, Sam. Can we just..." Carly trailed off, smiling seductively and raking her eyes over Sam's form.

"No we can't 'just'. You're hurt and I want to see it. I might be serious," stressed Sam, heavily dosing Carly with guilt.

"I had Spencer look at it before he left, it's fine, just a bruise," lied Carly, running her hands along Sam's sides in an attempt to distract the girl.

"It is _not_ fine if a simple brush aggravated it. And since when do you ask for Spencer's medical advise?"

"Since-"

"No, don't bother," said Sam flipping Carly on her stomach. She gasped when she saw the newly done tattoo.

"You said something quirky, right?"


	18. Romantic

Romance

I sigh dramatically, intending for Sam to hear. It's a week before Valentine's Day and she hasn't mentioned anything. I mean, I got _her_ a present, a good one if I do say so myself.

So why hasn't she said anything about it? Could she have possibly forgotten about the most romantic day of the year? No, not even Sam is capable of forgetting something like _that_.

She does, however, seem to be ignoring my sigh quite effectively. I continue to drop hints of unrest like that all day, she doesn't notice. Sam isn't this dense.

Scratch that, Sam _is_ this dense. I've been dropping hints all week, and _still_ nothing. Not a romantic poem, a teddy-bear or even an unusual 'I love you'. She's not great at romance, but this is getting ridiculous. How hard is it to show me that she loves me?

It's Friday, Valentine's Day, and I'm about to throw up with the disgusting displays of affection going on around me. Even Freddie's managed to find a girl that cares about this not-a-holiday!

I slam the door shut, almost not noticing that the room is practically pitch black. Anger boils inside me, and then my eyes fall on Sam.

She's standing in the middle of the room, holding the only light source. The windows have heavy material draped over them and the scent of Sam's candle is intoxicating. Later I'd find my present, a banner with '_I-don't-agree-with-this-silly-ritual-but-I'm-willing-to-participate-for-you, I-love-you, Carly-Shay'_ written on it.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Carly."


	19. Shelter

Shelter

I walk slowly down the cold, hard street. The puddles seep into my worn shoes as I make my was, not really knowing my destination but knowing that I had to get away.

"Hey, give me all your money!" a voice came from inside a nearby alleyway.

"Not on your life idiot," I reply, not really caring if he had a gun or a knife or a black-belt or ten. I don't have much to live for anymore so I figure that it isn't worth caring about living or dying.

"Hey," he repeats, grabbing my arm and spinning me around ", I _said_: give me all your money."

"I heard you. But since I don't have anything but the clothes on my back, you can just go away now," I say without even glancing at him, the fire that used to burn inside me long gone. I shrug out of his grasp and move on, wincing slightly as I step in another puddle. My shoes are soaked through, I think the stuttering male behind me is pulling out a gun, and a raindrop falls gracefully on top of my head.

I make no attempt to run for shelter when the rain comes down, nor when a bullet tears through my arm. I only care enough to turn when I hear a struggle behind me.

I turn and find a reason to stop my arm from bleeding.

My beautiful Carly, perched gracefully atop the gun-toting guy, engagement ring outstretched towards me.


	20. Sibling

Sibling

Carly had never been surrounded by so many women in her life. Seriously, she'd been to Band Camp, Girl Scout Camp, and Kinky Lesbian's In Uniform Camp, but she'd never been in the company of so many beautiful, _talented _women.

Sure she'd been around an _extremely talented_ woman nearly her entire life, but this was forty of them. Carly quite honestly did not know what to do around so many women with so many _talents_ among them.

She spared a glance at Freddie and Gibby, who were cornered by several of the _very talented women_. They gave her two of the most desperate looks they could muster in the situation. They were, after all, both happily married men with wives that were _very talented_ and would never approve of them being in such close proximity to other women who were possibly more _talented_. Carly figured that she couldn't do anything for them while she was pinned to the couch by another _very talented woman_, so she decided to silently enlist the help of the one responsible for this, this, horrible night. _Spencer_.

When she looked over at her sibling, she found him thoroughly enjoying one of the women's _talents, _clapping and cheering like a young boy. Carly rolled her eyes, who was this 'Night-Before-The-Wedding-Party' for, her or her older brother?

She deftly snatched one of the juggling balls off the woman in front of her and strode purposefully over to her brother.

"This is ridiculous!"

"_But,_ it _is_ totally random!"


	21. Soulmate

Soulmate

Carly descended the stairs. She surveyed the room with a nervous eye, trying to pick out her two best friends in the crowd of people. She mentally slapped herself for not asking them what they would be wearing to the Masquerade Ball.

Thankfully, Freddie found her, bowing deeply as he approached. He kissed her hand and gave her roses, just as any suitor would, but Carly found herself wanting something that Fredward Benson just couldn't give. She wanted to feel immediately in love with someone, someone she would be able to instantly call her soulmate. Her eternally, mystically intended.

Carly made small talk with Freddie, making sure to dissuade any attempt he made at romance. She found herself by the food table with punch in hand and a nerd buzzing around her, begging for an opportunity to dance with her. Just as she was about to give in, a knight with shining teeth tapped her gently on the shoulder.

The contact was electric, Carly couldn't remember a time when she'd felt this alive and in love, and she hadn't even gazed into his eyes yet.

She turned, her eyes falling upon two orbs that she found warm, safe, and familiar. The boy clad in a casual suit with plain black mask held out his hand. He had eyes Carly found herself getting lost in, and hair that was obscured by his hat.

They danced so closely that Carly could only attribute this level of comfort to one other person.

_Sam._


	22. Tropical

Tropical

Zeus strolled through the halls of Mount Olympus, intent on doing his work for the day. He'd had quite enough of turning into various animals and raping women when they were suitably close enough to him. Besides, he had a tropical vacation waiting for him if he worked a whole week.

"Father!" An armour-clad woman strode out long enough to pull Zeus into the room by the front of his robes.

"Athena, what is the meaning of this?" he yelled back at his child, silently cursing his idea to remove her mother from the equation. Maybe she would have turned out less like him if he hadn't swallowed her mother whole. He didn't have time to ponder the 'what-ifs' because Athena unceremoniously shoved a quiver full of hand-held lightning bolts into his hands.

"You are going to throw you _own_ darn lightning today. I've spoken to Hermes, Ares and Apollo-"

"Oh boy," muttered Zeus, knowing that whatever was about to come wasn't going to be in his favour.

"I'm sorry, Father, but we just can't do this job. We all have other work to attend to," said Athena, not really sounding apologetic at all. Zeus sighed.

"I'm doing it. You'd think I wasn't King of the Gods."

A world away, in Seattle, two young teens were happily curled up on the roof of the _Bushwell_ building. Lightning streaking across the sky interrupted their peaceful embrace. Sam turned to Carly, not happy.

"Do you ever wish Zeus'd take a day off?"


	23. UFO

UFO

The 'Freddie Benson Master Plan' involved four things:

One; the title of valedictorian from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, earned fair and square with not hints of cheating or bribery surrounding his title. A point he was about to meet on this very day. He could not have been prouder of himself if he tried. His mother was here, his father had flown in from his doctoring job in Guam, and his two best friends, Carly Shay and Samantha Puckett were all present for his big day.

Two; seven World Records, a feat he'd nearly halfway completed by the age of eighteen. He'd been a part of Spencer's record, successfully produced _iCarly_ into the record books (on the fourth attempt) and he'd also earned the record of 'Largest Profit Made by a Single Item On _eBay_.' He almost managed to break the 'Longest Time Under the Thumb of a Bully', but Sam almost inexplicably stopped being mean all together. That was just two days before he left for college.

Three; actually and undisputable discover a UFO. The Galaxy Wars nerd inside of him would not let this one go.

Four; marry Carly Shay, live happily ever after in a mansion with three kids and a Golden Retriever. But, as he turned to catch a glimpse of his friends and family, he saw something that made him lose all hope for the fourth point in his Master Plan.

Carly had an engagement ring on her finger, and she was lip-locked with Sam!

* * *

**Look! I'm actually saying something again! Go me!**

**This A/N is dedicated to issuing MIA status to crzy4anime, I miss her. Also, BladedDarkness is back, big yay there!**

**This is drabble 23 out of 38. I just wanted to say that to say I'm not going anywhere for a while. I will be back as soon as I get 5 reviews for this (or y'know 2 because that's when this'll have 100 reviews!!). Also, the next one will involved Carly and Sam: The Match Made In Hell!**


	24. Ultimate

Ultimate

I never thought _I _would be the one doing this. Who would have guessed that it would be me walking around the streets of Seattle at two in the morning, kicked out of home by my wife? I'm not even sure what I did wrong. One minute we were having a nice quiet dinner with the kids, and then I was on the doorstep pleading with Sam to let me back in while the children watched, just as confused as I was.

I ran as fast as I could when she slammed the door in my face. I couldn't bear to be near the house that I apparently wasn't welcome in. After all these years, I'm not welcome in my own darn house.

I walk quickly down the street, careful to avoid eye contact with the suspect looking people. I also try to look as poor as possible, one of the nation's top ten ways to avoid being mugged. My fists are held tightly by my side, I hate nighttime Seattle.

I slowly wind my way back to the suburbs, defeat conquering my fear of Sam's wrath, and whatever she seems to think I've done. Darn it, I'm a pushover, that's probably why she's attracted to me. I'm just that easy to bend to her will, we're a match made in hell. She probably doesn't even care for me at all.

"Mom! Mama says she's sorry for the ultimate overreaction, please come home, we're worried sick!"

Or maybe she does.

* * *

**Next up, we have Carly Shay biting off more than she can chew.**

***Gives cookie to Kennedy for being my 100th review*!!!!**


	25. Vain

Vain

Carly sat at her desk, typing away in a vain attempt to get all of her work done. Her senior year in college was fast approaching, and so were the deadlines on all of her assignments. Then there were the finals she had to study for, the part time job she had to hold down, and the household she had to run. In short, Carly Shay had finally bitten off more than she could chew.

Several of her friends had warned her that there wasn't a way in hell that she was going to manage to keep up with her hectic schedule, but being the stubborn and unwavering person that she was, Carly insisted on doing it all anyway. But it didn't really get to her until that one night.

That night when three assignments breathed down her neck, her boss called to tell her that her work had been sub-standard as of late, a long overdue phone bill slid into the mailbox, and a quartet of glaring 'F's stared at her from the other side of the testing room doors.

Dealing with the realisation was simple for Carly. She very calmly and simply curled up on her bed, arranged herself in a tight ball, and cried for four solid hours until a knock on the door broke her out of it.

Standing in the doorway was Sam, arms filled with books, past test papers, a huge payout from her latest job and a 'thank-you' notice from the phone company.


	26. Vampire

Vampire

Carly awoke gently, the sun's rays joyfully complying with their alarm clock duties. She carefully de-tangled herself from her sleeping girlfriend and stood up, stretching her body free of kinks. The brunette pulled on a discarded robe and made her way to the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom.

She rather quite enjoyed Thursdays, it was the only day where both Sam and Carly were able to sleep in. Thus, Wednesday became 'date-night' and they took turns in charming each other, trying to out-do the other while not letting competitiveness rule the relationship. It never managed to take hold, and they continued the tradition from those first few weeks in freshman year right up until their last few months of senior year.

Sure, Carly knew that the time would be better spent studying or doing other works, but she need her Sam damnit!

She flipped on the light to the third room in their modest apartment, before washing her face of the night's (and morning's) sweat and drowsiness. Carly silently grumbled until a disoriented groan came from the double bed.

"Carly?" called Sam, her voice raspy. Carly shivered slightly, and considered taking a cold shower instead of her usual relaxing warmth.

"In here," she called back shakily, almost _hearing_ the smirk on Sam's face. The blonde knew damn well what she did to her girl. Her girl, who was now examining herself, eyes focused on her neck. "Hey, Sam? Did you become a vampire without telling me? Hickeys, much?"


	27. Vote

Vote

I swore that I wouldn't come here to cry. This is a place where only my love for Samantha Puckett, and the happy memories we had together would live. Therefore, I am _not _crying here and now, just like I made a point _not_ to cry at my wife's funeral. Just like I did _not_ allow our three kids to see the pain her death caused me. A task that I did so darn well that I found myself feeling guilty for not feeling enough for the lost love of my life.

I did not come here to cry, I never do. But, bad karma seems to have a way of pulling up images of my Sam whenever I manage to allow myself to be drawn to this place. Or maybe it is my own sick imagination trying to torture me for losing her so easily. That isn't quite right though, it wasn't my choice that Sam died. She was ripped from me by some crazy man who didn't want to vote. Such a waste.

My daughters come closer, but I hold my hand up to stop them. I don't want them to see me crying. I _have_ to be _strong_. My eldest ignores me, she's so much like Sam was. She's the only one old enough to actually _remember_ the remarkable woman I had children with. She slips her hand into mine and we walk to Sam's grave. It reads:

_Here lies the 47__th__ U.S President, Samantha Rachel Puckett_.


	28. Wedding

Wedding

If Carly's life was a story, then this day was the one she'd choose for the epilogue. Sure there was much more of her life to be lived, but this was the day she wanted to be put down as the finale.

Not some silly scene at a train station that completely ruins any imagination the reader may have put into her story. Not even a simple death scene that clearly and briefly, without fanfare or celebration says that she died. She also didn't want something that proclaimed that she left Sam, because that only happened once and they were back together within hours.

No, nothing like any of that. Carly Shay wanted the fast-forward to bliss at the end of her story to be about this one little moment that had taken years to get to. She wanted it to be about the moment that brought a million consequences down on her head. The moment that she knew she'd share each and every one with Samantha Puckett, the love of her life no matter what anyone else said.

She wanted it to be immortalized as a moment of history, since it wasn't everyday you got a woman like Samantha Puckett in this sort of situation. It _didn't_ happen, _ever_.

Everything else that came after may warrant a sequel, but this was her epilogue. Not her wedding or the birth of a child, but the image of her Sam, down on one knee, asking for her hand in wedded bliss.


	29. Why

Why

Gibby ran down the hallway, desperate to get to his locker. He absolutely _had_ to get his project out of his locker or his English teacher would _kill _him, or worse, fail him. He was forced to stop for air and rest, not even his dancing skills and endurance could prepare him for the long run across the school.

Gibby doubled over in agony as his insides cramped from far too much effort. His slightly overweight body buckling under the pressure of school and timetables. But Gibby's no quitter, so he jogged on, grateful for the lack of students in the hallway.

He jogged through the winding halls of Ridgeway, huffing and puffing as he went. He jogged absentmindedly, causing him to run into a teacher, who was also rushing to get to class.

"Detention, Gibby!" yelled the teacher as he continued to run through the halls. "And no running in the halls!" he contradictorily called over his shoulder. Gibby continued walking, not wanting to get into trouble from another late teacher.

Finally, his locker was in sight! But there was still one more obstacle. Samantha Puckett and Carly Shay.

In front of his locker, in between both of theirs.

Standing closer than Gibby'd ever seen two people stand.

Moaning softly, with a few groans thrown in.

Nevertheless, they were still lip-locked. With their hands rapidly disappearing, and their moans getting louder.

Gibby wondered why he was going to his locker. Coming up with nothing, he walked off to class.


	30. Work

Work

Samantha Puckett detested work of all kinds. She simply couldn't bring herself to take part in it. It wasn't that she was unable to do the work, she was actually quite intelligent when the proper motivation came along. It was that she lacked the proper motivation. Then Carly watched a marathon of Adam Sandler movies...

"Oh my God!" Each word was prolonged as Spencer stared at Sam's eyes. He simply could not believe that his sister's best friend had her line of sight that _low_. He nearly fainted when Carly registered in his brain. Just why exactly was Carly standing there, clutching a hastily grabbed shirt to her bare chest while possessing the guiltiest expression in history? "Wha-?"

Both Sam and Carly clutched around in the deepest recesses of their usually creative brains to find a decent excuse to throw at the bewildered male standing open-mouthed in the doorway. Rather unfortunately for the two already embarrassed teens, Freddie had heard Spencer's yell and had immediately decided that he should come running. Just in case Carly was hurt and needed to be hugged, kissed, and nursed back to health.

Carly went several shades redder than she already was when Freddie burst into the room. He was far less shocked than Spencer, as Sam no longer had a lust-crazy expression adorning her features.

"We were..." Carly trailed off, looking at her girlfriend nervously. Sam decided to do something she'd never done, take the blame for Carly.

"I'm gay-ish, Carly was helping me."


	31. Worry

Worry

Emma and Evan walked down the hallway, pink wand and sturdy baseball bat in their respective hands.

"We can't let the bad person know we's here," whispered Emma, holding the sparkling wand out in front of herself.

"That thing ain't gonna help you, Emmy," Evan moved past her while tightening his grip on the handle of his bat. A loud moan sounded into the cold hall, startling the seven-years olds.

"They's hurting Mama!" Evan slapped his free hand over her mouth to stop the quiet exclamation from escaping her lips. It made no difference.

The two children stood in silence, waiting to see if the attacker had heard Emma's outburst. When another urgent moan rang out, they breathed a sigh of relief before their minds caught up with what their Mama's moans meant.

"Mama!" they simultaneously cried, dashing towards their parent's bedroom, respective weapons raised.

They handle jiggled in place, but made no move to unlock or even turn.

"The bad person's locked Mama in!" Evan didn't even try to keep his sister's voice down this time, he was far to worried about his beloved Mama to care if the bad person knew they were just outside the door.

The moaning stopped suddenly, followed by whispers then footsteps. The lock slid open and the doorknob turned. All worry for their dear Mama disappeared as the door swung open.

"Why aren't you two in bed?" asked their Mama, before Emma noticed something.

"Mama! The bad person got you on the neck!"


	32. XMas

X-mas

"X-mas, X-mas," I say, repeating myself over and over again, thoroughly enjoying the annoyed look forming on Carly's face. I make a point to bob and weave around her as if I'm a fly, buzzing with nothing but bad intentions.

"Stop it, _Sam_," she growls, my name springing from deep in her throat. This only pushes me to step up my efforts.

"_Lawl_," I pronounce slowly, knowing perfectly well how much that particular part of net-speak bothered her, especially if actually _said_.

Carly stops walking and fixes me with one of the most pissed off glares I've ever received, and I've been getting into trouble with _Ms Briggs_ for nearly six years now. "Please don't kill me," comes my answer to her stare, completely independent of my brain. Cowardly self-preservation, overriding my need to see Carly angry. It isn't my fault, really! It's Carly's for looking so darn hot when mad.

"I won't kill you if you stop with the stupidity," she says, calmer than I was expecting. Does she realise that she just called nearly an entire First World generation stupid? Besides, it's not _stupidity_ it's _gross laziness_, and not everyone is a grammar Nazi like she is.

"It's not _my_ fault you're beautiful when you're angry," I start before I know what I'm doing. "It's simply too tempting to _not_ make you mad when that is the reward."

I believe the best term to describe her reaction would be 'stunned mullet', at least _before_ she kisses my lips.


	33. Xray

X-Ray

"No!" screamed Evan, tugging on his mother's arm, pleading with her to let him go. Carly kept a steadfast grip on him, fearing that letting go could do further damage to his arm. "I'm not gonna do it Mom, and you can't make me!"

His sister, Emma, stared at him in quiet fascination, rubbing her sprained wrist absent-mindedly. Sam, who was sitting next to her daughter, was trying very hard not to laugh at her wife and son.

"Isn't Tug-o-War what got us into this mess in the first place Ev?" Emma asked sweetly, causing her twin to stop straining instantly.

"But, Em, you don't have to go do this 'x-ray' thing."

"Actually she had her arm done while you were fighting with your mother," interjected Sam, giving Emma one of her famous 'play-along' looks. Emma caught on immediately, while Evan remained still, glaring at his sister for doing something before he did, then not telling him about it.

"Yeah, it didn't hurt at all. It actually kinda tickled a bit," Emma lied smoothly; she'd picked up lying from her non-biological mother.

"Really?" Evan asked suspiciously, not quite trusting the innocent gleam in his sister's eyes.

"Yes, really. Now go get pictures taken of your arm so that we can see if you broke it," said Carly, placing herself between the twins.

"Wait, all they're gonna do is take pictures?" The three females nodded. "And I get an ice-block for this?" They nodded again. "Well, what are we waiting for?"


	34. Yahoo

Yahoo

The shopping cart screamed down the hill, closely followed by a gaggle of teenaged boys. The female instigator of the stunt and the sole defendant of the young man in the cart were left standing as their male companions took off.

"Why did you do that?" Carly asked Sam, trying to contain her growing anger at her girlfriend.

"'Cause I could," Sam said, her voice stating that I should have been obvious.

"Just because you _can_ do something, doesn't mean that you _should_," Carly hissed through gritted teeth. Sam rolled her eyes and started leisurely strolling down the hill after Freddie and the other boys.

"I'm not going to kill him because I _can_," Sam stressed, trying to casually reason with Carly's morals. She'd tried the serious approach and was very quickly out-done.

"So, I should be happy that you haven't decided to become a homicidal manic?"

"Exactly!" They reached the bottom of the hill, but the boys were already onto their next activity. Neither girl was particularly interested in finding out.

"Do you actually expect me to go along with your yahoo logic?" asked Carly, seating herself delicately on the grass. Sam responded by unceremoniously straddling her Carly's hips.

"Yeah, I most certainly do."

Before Carly could get a word in, Sam's lips were on hers. They demanded compliance, which Carly was more than happy to provide. The kiss lasted mere seconds, not nearly long enough for either girl.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because I could. Are you complaining?"


	35. Year

Year

My name is Samantha Puckett. I do not have a middle name, my mother was the worst planner in the world, only managed to come up with my first name before my birth and was far to lazy to come up with one afterwards. I am forty-six years old, and still youthful, at heart at least.

I am married with three kids, who have five kids between them. No, I'm not married anymore. With death did us part. My Carly went and died on me, leaving me alone in the two-storey house each of our children called home in their youth.

She died peacefully, if you go by the moment she passed, ignoring the actual _cause_ of my love's death.

The cause of her death is now walking down the stairs, staring at me with eyes that are nowhere near as dull as they should be. He knows what he did, he probably also knows it was wrong. But still, he doesn't show an ounce of remorse or fear of repercussions for his highly irresponsible act. An urge that hasn't hit me in over a year submerges me inside it. The urge to hurt another person, _badly_.

I go to knock his head off his shoulders for driving drunk and killing my wife, but my son and the arresting policeman restrain me, cries of "Mama, don't" flying from Evan's mouth.

"I don't want to arrest you over _him,_" says the policeman. Oddly, I calm down.

Carly wouldn't want me arrested.


	36. Yesterday

Yesterday

Yesterday I cried for the first time in years. I cried until my eyes were dry, before starting up again minutes later, wailing so loudly that people in the main room were wondering what was going on.

Yesterday I lost something I held dear to me. No, it wasn't a memorable and/or humorous key-chain, or a puppy I'd gotten a week ago. I lost something that most women these days are very nonplussed about, and I can never understand why. It wasn't the fact that I lost it, it has happened before in a _very_ different way, but the fact that I felt as if I had no say in it made it so much worse.

Yesterday I felt as if the weight of the Sun was placed on me, to go nicely with the Earth already on there. I thought that it would make it all better, that if I did this one thing then the whole world would stop pressuring me and making me feel guilty for not following their expectations.

Yesterday I'm pretty sure may have been the last day I have a comfortable conversation with Sam. She cried too, while begging me to not go through with it. But maybe not, I'm fairly sure I can get the Sun off my back, not to mention the expected son I was supposed to produce.

Yesterday I married Fredward Benson, ignoring my lover's pleas for me not to.

Yesterday I married him. Tomorrow I'll run away with her.

* * *

**Okay, so I wanna have this over and done with by the end of the year, so review fast guys!!**


	37. Zipper

Zipper

Dave watched as the three locks slipped open, a soft _thud _following before the last could be unlocked.

He listened as insistent moans floated through the wooden door, follow quickly by a _click_. The door flew open, depriving a large blob of human of its resting place. Dave was left in awe as the blob somehow managed to keep itself upright, despite its clearly distracted state. The blob shuffled its way into the living room, finally falling over when it reached the long lounge.

Dave watched, more confused than ever as the blob's extremities began attacking itself. He almost wanted to warn it away from its own brutality, but better judgement got the best of his emotional response. How could he possibly warn them anyway? It's not like he could do that _talking _thing the blob always seemed to be doing. Dave just wasn't that kind of guy. No, Dave was content to watch, pushing all emotion out of his mind.

The blob gasped as it shed part of its skin, the gasp was quickly followed by a long moan. Dave briefly wondered why his blob did this every now and then. This skin shedding ritual. He didn't understand _why_ but he knew that his blob enjoyed itself and that it caused his morning feeding to come a little bit later. Because of this, Dave wasn't sure whether he liked it or not.

"Stupid zipper!" came an angry grunt form the blob, causing Dave to retreat into his bowl further.


	38. Zodiac

Zodiac

'_You will find happiness with a big change_', said her horoscope, confusing me greatly. I didn't like the ideas the silly astrologer-type-person was putting in her head so I glared at the picture of the man and tried very hard to put a hole through his head and the word 'Capricorn' above the offending words.

It was a matter of happiness-preservation really. I needed Carly to be happy, this much I could gather from ten years of knowing her. But this horoscope was telling her to find happiness elsewhere. Now I'm not being arrogant here, but I _knew_ that I was the biggest thing in her life, she _said so_ on many an occasion. So forgive me for getting a little worried over a few words.

I went to voice my disapproval of this silly and stupid horoscope when Carly stood up and left the Shay apartment.

_Oh God,_ I thought back then, _she's going to leave me for Freddie_. So I was an arrogant little idiot who didn't quite trust Carly as much as I should have, I changed I swear.

I was near hyperventilation when someone knocked on the door. I opened to door to find a slightly ticked Carly standing there, newspaper in hand. She pointed to my own zodiac sign. It read:

'_True love and happiness will come knocking on your door.'_

"I think we should find a place of our own, what do you think?" she said, smiling. I nod dumbly before kissing her soundly.


End file.
