Disclaimer: not mine

A/N: yeah, I'm horrible at updating. sorry.

"Mysteries of the Mind"

by: the archduke

It took forty minutes, two packs of bacon and a tough negotiation to get Sam downstairs. They came to the agreement that if Freddie touched her in any way, Sam had permission to hit him either twice anywhere on his torso or once from the neck up. Carly considered it quite the accomplishment that she had managed to get Sam to drop her insistence on emasculating him if Freddie got out of line. Freddie might still end up with a concussion or internal bleeding, but at least he'd still be a dude.

Sam, having learned from her previous encounter with Freddie, refused to relinquish her bowling pin, and made sure to keep Carly in front of her as a human shield as she made her way down the steps. As they reached the ground floor, Sam peeked over Carly's shoulder and promptly burst out laughing, dropping her pin in the process.

While still behind Carly, she pointed at Freddie and said, "What in the hell happened to the dork? Sure, it's an improvement on his looks, but he can't even hold his head up!" Sam clutched her stomach as she doubled over in laughter.

Carly couldn't really fault Sam for laughing. Freddie looked ridiculous. His neck must have gotten tired of holding up all the extra weight on his head, because he was sitting on a stool with his head awkwardly on the breakfast bar. It did not look comfortable.

Freddie tried to lift his head, but all he ended up doing was redistributing the weight so that he ended up falling off the stool and onto the floor. Sam's laughter was renewed as Mrs. Benson helped Freddie off the floor.

"He can't even stand up by himself! Why aren't we taping this?" Sam asked in between gasps of laughter.

"Because we are Freddie's friends and he does not need a permanent reminder of this unfortunate episode," Carly responded. For a brief moment she did think that this would be hilarious on iCarly, but she pushed that thought away. Freddie had enough troubles to deal with.

As Sam got herself under control, Spencer put his arm around Freddie's shoulders, which made the boy jump in surprise. Spencer patted him on the back. "Just me, Freddo," he shouted. Freddie nodded, having given up on talking while in the metal bubble, and promptly lost his balance. Spencer steadied him, then turned to Sam.

"See, I told you it would work," Spencer said in triumph. "Freddie's here, you're here, and no craziness. My Chip-in-Head Disruptor is a success!" Spencer pumped his fist in the air, knocking Freddie off balance and sending him to the floor once more.

"Yeah, real nice work, Spence," Sam said as she inched her way towards Freddie as Mrs. Benson once again helped Freddie off the floor. "But why didn't you just wrap up my foot in all that jank stuff?" Sam tapped on Freddie's head as he stood, laughing as he tipped over and Mrs. Benson had to steady him. Mrs. Benson gave Sam a glare, which Sam ignored.

Spencer looked flustered as he processed what Sam had just said, when Sam continued. "It would be so awesome to have a metal foot! Think of the damage I could do!"

Spencer and Carly looked at each other in fear. "And that is why you don't get a metal foot," Carly said, while Spencer nodded, silent and wide eyed. There were some things that just shouldn't even be considered.

Sam was about to argue when a movement caught her attention. While she was debating the merits of a metal foot, Freddie had gotten onto his feet and had migrated over to where she was standing. She turned around, only to look down to find Freddie, on one knee, with both hands over his heart.

Carly, Spencer and Mrs. Benson watched with bated breath as Sam tilted her head in confusion when Freddie tipped his metal head up to her. Remarkably, he kept his balance. His loud, though muffled, voice carried to everyone in the room.

"Mi corazon," he said, with a perfect Spanish accent and so much feeling Mrs. Benson gasped. Freddie was becoming a man right before her eyes. And with dismay, she realized Sam Puckett was involved in the process.

Sam turned to the three onlookers. "Did he just call me a calzone?"

Carly answered. "No, he said 'mi corazon.' It means 'my heart' in Spanish. Which is super cute, if you don't mind me saying."

Sam lowered her brows. "I do mind. I liked calzone better." Sam turned back to Freddie. "This is a new type of crazy, isn't it?"

Carly sighed. Of course Sam would rather be called a cheese-stuffed turnover.

At that moment, something strange occurred. Spencer would later swear he could feel the electric energy in the room at it happened. Freddie shot up off his knee and stood before a leery Sam and clapped his hands twice. Suddenly, the radio came on, the sounds of a sultry tune filling the air. Freddie grabbed a stunned Sam around the waist with one arm, while his other hand held onto hers and lifted it into the air. He then moved his feet, leading Sam into a tango.

Sam struggled against Freddie for a few seconds, but when it was clear Freddie would do nothing more than dance with her, she relaxed and let him maneuver her around the room.

Sam and Freddie were pressed chest to chest, their bodies in perfect synch with each other. They moved gracefully, which was remarkable considering Freddie's head was encased in a few inches of metal and Sam loudly proclaimed her disdain for the boy every chance she got.

As the duo floated past a slack jawed Mrs. Benson, a bewildered Spencer, and a nonplussed Carly, Spencer turned to his sister.

"Why is Sam not pummeling Freddie?," he asked. "How is he keeping his balance dancing around, when he couldn't even stand straight without help? How did that radio just switch on?" Spencer's expression turned fearful. "Does Freddie have . . . powers?" he whispered.

Mrs. Benson leaned around Spencer to also talk to Carly. "Not that I want my Freddie to be pummeled, but yes, this is all very curious," she said as she gestured to the dancing duo.

Carly raised her hands in the universal gesture for 'I have no freakin' clue.' "How am I supposed to know? This whole day has been so weird, what with chips in heads, and multiple freak outs, and magic radios, and threats against Freddie's life, which, to be honest, isn't that unusual when Sam's involved. But at this point, I give up." Carly's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Just let them dance or kill each other or make out, whatever. I don't care anymore. I'm gonna go take a bath. And then a shower. It's been that sort of day." With that, Carly trudged upstairs, planning to drown her sorrows. Literally.

Spencer and Mrs. Benson were left to watch as Sam and Freddie continued to dance around the room. Freddie twirled Sam at intervals and Sam at one point was wrapped around Freddie like a vine as he held on to the back of her upper thigh. Mrs. Benson wanted desperately to get her camera to document this momentous moment in Freddie's dealings with the opposite sex, even if it was with Sam, but she didn't think she should leave them alone together. She considered Spencer an inadequate chaperon, and with the lack of daylight between the two teens as they danced, a chaperon was definitely needed.

As the song came to an end, Sam and Freddie were by the front door. Freddie dipped Sam, and as she was bent back she reached over and turned the door knob, opening it when Freddie brought her out of the dip. There was a whirlwind of movement and with the closing chords of the song, Sam slammed the front door, with Freddie somehow on the outside. She locked the door and leaned her back against it, her breathing ragged. She rested her head on the door, eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath.

The two adults merely watched as Sam got herself under control, wiping the light sheen of sweat off her forehead as she pushed away from the door. She quickly glanced back, a look of almost longing flickering over her face, before she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, pressed a few buttons, and put the phone to her ear.

"Yeah, Mom? It's me." A pause. "Sam." Another pause. "You gave birth to me, remember?" Third pause. "No, the other one. Whatever. Listen, what's the number for that doctor Aunt Maggie used to be married to? No, not that one, the shady one. No, the guy with the mustache. Yeah, him." Sam grabbed a pen off a side table and scribbled on her hand. "Got it. Thanks. Later." She hung up the phone and stuck her hand in Mrs. Benson's face. "Call this dude. If anyone can fix Freddie, it'll be him."

Mrs. Benson looked doubtful and Sam's attempt at reassurance didn't help. "Don't freak. He's great. He's the guy my Uncle Carmine goes to when things go bad."

A/N2: Sam's motivations will be dealt with in a couple chapters. next chapter (whenever I write it) will deal with the doctor, who I think will be very fun.