*clears throat awkwardly* Hey everyone! I'm so, so sorry for abandoning my account for so long. That was pretty dick-ish of me, I know. But here I am, ready to relive the glorious iCarly days and pretend that I'm not about to go to college in a little over a month (WTF). I've missed this show and Seddie like crazy, so hopefully writing again will make me less sad about the horrible ending of iCarly.

DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned iCarly, alas, I do not.

FREDDIE'S POV:

Around 5:30 p.m. on Saturday, I was finishing gelling my hair into the perfect quiff when I heard my PearPhone let out a buzz. Groaning, I picked it up to see that Carly was calling me.

"Hello?"

"FREDDIE!" Carly shrieked, "GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!" Before I even had the chance to answer, she hung up.

Well, that was a little rude, but I decided that doing what she says would be best for my well-being. I took one last look in the mirror and headed out the door.

Tonight is the night of Gibby's "partay", and I wondered if Carly's frantic phone call had something to do with it being at her apartment. Turns out my instincts were right. The party wasn't supposed to start until 6, but Gibby had arrived early to set up and make sure that everything was up to his high standards. As soon as I stepped my foot through the door, I was blinded with absolute chaos. Streamers were flying throughout the room and balloons littered the ceiling. Gibby was running wild in his tiger outfit with Carly chasing after him. Sam was eating a piece of fried chicken on the couch while some boys I barely recognized were hanging out in the kitchen.

Carly noticed that I had arrived and the relief was evident on her face. She quit running after Gibby and approached where I was standing. "Freddie, thank God your'e here. This is a disaster! Gibby invited Ryan Dellfera and they brought a bunch of alcohol and they made Gibby drink some already so now he's drunk and running around my apartment and more kids are coming to get drunk and Sam's just sitting there like a lump and I don't know what to do and-" I put my finger to my mouth, signaling her to shut up and calm down. She let out a deep breath and sighed. "Freddie, what am I supposed to do? I can't have a bunch of drunk teenagers crammed in here! If Spencer finds out he'll never trust me again! I had to beg Socko to take him camping tonight so he wouldn't be home to see this, and you know I hate doing that!"

Crap. Why would Gibby let Ryan Dellfera of all people take over the beverages for this? We're not the type of kids to party like that (well, maybe with the exception of Sam), and Ryan's group of friends have their heads shoved so far up their asses that they can't acknowledge anyone outside of the popular kids. I was about to tell Carly that maybe we should just make an executive decision and cancel the party when all of a sudden the front door burst open. It seemed like everyone in our grade was flowing through and there was no way to stop it...

The next hour went by in a blur. Carly and I were trying to keep kids off the furniture and limit everybody to no more than two drinks each, but, of course, no one was listening to the sober ones. I managed to escape the craziness and took the elevator up to the studio to catch my breath, but when I got there I wasn't alone. Sam was sitting in a beanbag nursing another piece of chicken and gave me a head nod when I walked in.

"Sup, Fredward?"

"Sup? That's all you have to say? Sam, Carly and I have been trying to control these drunk freaks that are taking over Carly's apartment and you've just been sitting up here by yourself?!" I took a step closer to her and noticed the faraway look in her eyes. "Oh God, don't tell me that you're drunk too!"

She rolled her eyes at me and chucked her now clean chicken bone to the ground. "Please, Benson, I'm not drunk. I don't roll like that."

"Oh really?" I inquired. "I would think that you 'roll like that'. There's always alcohol in your house and you sometimes hang out with those drug addicts at school."

Sam stood up. "Excuse me? How dare you accuse me of that!"

I could feel my anger growing and the nervous butterflies I always got in my stomach while fighting with Sam started to form. I knew I should just stop before she decides to kill me, but I'm so pissed off from attempting to corral all those drunk idiots that I just can't hold back. "Well, if you're not going to drink tonight, which I'm sure you do almost every weekend, why don't you help Carly and I control all the intoxicated people? We're the only sober ones in this damn place." Sam stood there staring at me for a second, her expression blank. A slow smirk spread across her features and she let out an evil-sounding chuckle. "What?" I asked nervously. I could tell she thought I was acting like a uptight prick, but anybody with common sense knows that someone needs to take control when teenagers are running loose with alcohol.

"I'd like to propose a bet," She stated. "If you're not too much a pussy to handle the terms."

My head was screaming Don't do it! but my heart hated being called a pussy by Sam, so of course I said "What is it, Puckett?"

"I bet you that you wouldn't know how to have a good time even if you were drunk."

My brow furrowed. "What kind of bet is that? Are you saying that I don't know how to have fun?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. So what are you gonna do about it?" She asked cheekily.

I stuck out my hand. "Okay, I'll participate in your little bet. But you have to be drunk too."

"Fine," Sam smirked. "But don't cry when you have to pour ice cold water down your pants by the end of the night." Fuck. I almost forgot about the terms of our bets that we made back in middle school.

I followed the seemingly giddy Sam downstairs into the living room that hardly resembled what it usually looks like. Pillows were all over the ground, and was that one on the ceiling fan?, and a drunk Gibby was dancing like there's no tomorrow on the wooden table. Some rap song that contained more explicits in ten seconds than any other song I'd ever heard was blasting from the speakers and I could hardly hear Sam as she exclaimed, "Now this is a party!"

"C'mon, Benson, let's go get some of that liquid magic!" Sam grabbed my hand (oh my God, she hasn't done that since we dated!) and violently lead my through the sea of teenagers until we got to the kitchen. Normally things like spaghetti tacos, Wahoo Punch, and Peppy Cola were usual kitchen items in the Shay household; but today all sorts of liquor were laid out on the counter tops and an intense game of beer pong was taking place at the kitchen table.

Sam grabbed a bottle of what I'm guessing was vodka, two shot glasses, and poured us both a shot. I glanced around, scared that Carly would kill me for leaving her as the sole sober, but when I turned to see the fiery, excited look in Sam's eyes all of my apprehensions went out the window. "Are we gonna drink this shit or what?" I asked.

I'd never seen Sam look happier than she did right in that moment. She held up her mini glass and said, "Cheers to us- I mean, cheers to... our bets." With that we clinked glasses and poured the "liquid magic" down our throats.

HOLY SHIT! were the first words that came to mind as I registered what I was tasting. I kid you not, it tasted like straight-up rubbing alcohol. Not that I know what that tastes like, but I'm sure that it's pretty damn close. My throat was burning and my lips tingled, how could anybody actually enjoy drinking this stuff?

I ran to the refrigerator, looking for something, anything to get the taste out of my mouth. I felt a pair of small, familiar hands touch my shoulders and pull me away. "No chasers, Freddie. Chasers are for pussies."

"What the heck is a chaser?" I asked, but Sam just looked at me and laughed like I was some pathetic little kid. I quickly decided that it would be better to keep my obvious lack of drinking knowledge to myself.

Sam started pouring another round of shots, and I really did not want to deliberately have more of that shit so I spoke up, "Sam, is it really necessary to have another one? I mean, I don't even feel anything right now. If it's not getting me drunk then I don't want it."

"Don't pussy out on me now, Benson. Trust me, after one more shot you'll start to feel it. After this we'll switch to beer." I sighed and braced myself for the throat burning, almost gagging as I felt it go down. Sam, however, seemed to have no problem whatsoever, so I tried my best not to make a face.

We then made our way over to the other side of the counter, where there were countless beer cans lined up. "Ugh, Keystone Light is the fucking worst," Sam muttered as she grabbed us both a can. By this point a warm sensation was taking over me and I realized that this must be what it feels like to get drunk.

As we took our first sips, my throat once again tried to close in protest to the liquid I was trying to pour down it. "I know it's nasty," Sam said, "But it's all that cheapass Ryan Dellfera brought, so we'll just have to deal with it."

A new song started playing on the speakers and Sam clutched my arm. She hasn't done that since we dated, either. "This is my jam!" she hollered, dragging me to the makeshift dance floor in the living room. Normally I don't like this R&B rap type of music, but the warmth inside me continued to grow and everything started to seem better and more funny than usual.

A group had formed in a circle around the living room table, a different person going in every couple of minutes to dance to the cheers of the surrounding crowd. Sam forced her way into the middle, shoved the person who was trying to twerk off the table and started dancing.

Now, I always knew that Sam was a good dancer. Carly told me about how she rocked it at that beauty pageant and took lessons for a good portion of her childhood, but I thought she was only good at tap. Boy was I wrong. As she twisted and turned her body to the beat of the "oh na na na"s of the song, I was completely mesmerized. Her hips moved so gracefully as she grinded on the air, and suddenly I got an overwhelming need for her to dance like that on me. I chugged some of my gross beer to try to get rid of the feeling.

Boys were whopping and hollering at her as she continued to dance like a stripper (in a sexy yet classy way, of course) and the whole apartment was screaming the lyrics to this apparently very popular song that had a chorus that went "put your hands in the air if you're fucking tonight". Sam threw her hands up and I swear it seemed like she looked right at me as she sang along to those words. I couldn't tell if it was that or the beer that was making me feel suddenly horny, so I stepped away from the mass of sweaty dancing bodies as the song came to a close.

By this point I had finished my beer, and I couldn't seem to remember if I was supposed recycle aluminum or not, so I just put it on the floor in a way that was shockingly not Freddie. I was about to grab another one when I heard Sam call out my name. "Freddie!" she cried in a happy voice, grabbing the beer I was about to drink out of my hand. She hasn't said my name in a voice like that since we were dating.

"Put down that beer, mister. Mama needs to get drunk, and there's no better way to do it than some good 'ole beer pong." You're not drunk already? I think to myself as we head over towards the designated beer pong table.

Sam goes off to find us some worthy opponents as I try to figure out the rules of the "sport" by watching Wendy and some other people I don't know finish up their game. My brain's all fuzzy, though, so it's hard to concentrate on what they're doing. When they're done Wendy hands me the ping pong balls and says "It's good to see you finally lighten up, Freddie." I don't get the chance to reply because Sam comes out of nowhere and guides me towards our side of the table. Gibby and Zack Rogers from school start to set up on the other side, putting the red solo cups into a triangle and filling them with beer.

Sam quickly explains the rules to me and as we play, I quickly discover that I suck. I don't make a single cup. I feel a little better as I watch Gibby suck even more than me, though. He's so drunk that he can hardly stand up straight or go a minute without whispering "Gibbbehhhh" to himself. Sam and Zack however, are both amazing and after I have to drink the contents of a couple of our cups, Sam shots the ball right into their last cup and screams "VICTORY!". Gibby stumbles away, seemingly unaffected by the lose, and Zack stands there looking impressed.

I'm about to put my arm around Sam's shoulder's and thank her for putting the team on her back when Zack struts over and sticks his hand out towards her. "Good game," he smiles. "I think we'd make a great team. How about you and me play everyone here tonight?" I don't like the look he's giving Sam. Something tells my drunk mind he wants to play more than just beer pong with her.

Before I can tell the guy to get lost, Sam tells him no thanks and walks over to the beer can corner. "Hey, can we go up to the studio for a couple minutes? I'm really hot and I just want to relax after that intense game." Sam says.

I agree and we both grab a couple of Keystone Lights and make our way towards the stairs. By this point I'm starting to stumble so we decide that the elevator would be a better idea.

We're silent on the way up. Sam's crazy good mood from downstairs seems to have disappeared, and I'm afraid to ask what's wrong because I'm pretty sure my words will start slurring soon. Riding an elevator is a weird sensation when you're drunk and you're head is starting to spin. Thinking is even a weird sensation.

When the door opens I somehow find a beanbag chair, open up my beer, and start to chug. Sam sits next to me and continues to stay silent.

"What's wrong?" I ask her, sounding like I have a lisp as I struggle to get the words out.

"Nothing," she shrugs. "Just a lot of bad memories in that elevator." I don't know what the hell she's talking about so I just drink more of my beer.

Finally Sam starts drinking again and we start coming up with crazy ideas for iCarly that we would never be able to do. These include Why Keystone Light is So Shitty, How to Get Drunk, and Who can Get Gibby the Drunkest? We sit there laughing for what feels like forever and all the beer is gone.

"What if we actually did film something for iCarly right now?" Sam asked. "How great would that be? We could do like... Drunk Advice Time. Or something. You already have the camera set up on a tripod from that filming we did yesterday, so why not?"

My brain doesn't see any problem with that so I turn on the camera (it's not surprising that I could do this while drunk, I could do it if I was fast asleep) and put the beanbag chairs in a good spot in front of the lense.

We really couldn't think of what to do on camera so we just started laughing. We could hear crashes and cheers from downstairs, which only made everything seem even funnier.

"Let's tell them all about tonight, Freddie's first time getting drunk!" Sam yells like it's the best idea in the world.

So we slur to the camera about our bet and the drinking, dancing, beer pong, all of it. Talking about the dancing part made me remember how sexy Sam looked when she was dancing, so I blurted out, "Sam, why don't you show the viewers your dance moves? I'm sure they would like it." She smiled and replied "Only if you dance with me." That seemed fair to me, so she pulled out her phone and played the same song that she had been dancing to earlier and put it on full volume. She immediately started to move her hips in that really hot way again, so I just stood there and openly gawked.

After a minute she noticed that I wasn't dancing so Sam moved over and put her back against my chest, put my hands on her waist, and started to grind the way she was before. My heart started to race as her butt repeatedly moved straight against my crotch. She had never been this bold even when we were dating.

I found her rhythm and began grinding myself against her, letting the sensation and the music wash over me. I wasn't even slightly embarrassed that she probably could feel just how aroused I was. When the song finally ended she turned around and looked up at me. I forgot how short she was since she would always wear heels when we were dating. She suddenly put her arms around my neck, pulled my face down, and planted her lips on mine.

I felt something stir inside me that hasn't shown up for a long time. This feels like home. I remember exactly how she liked to be kissed, every sensitive piece of skin on her neck, the way she would shutter against me when I'd lightly bite her earlobe. Next thing I know we feel into a beanbag chair, her straddling me, me thinking that we never even got past 2nd base while we were dating and somehow we're hitting third base right now.

After we finish we struggle to find our clothes that somehow ended up all over the studio, I turned off the camera and we walked hand-in-hand down the stairs, tripping and holding each other up while giggling like crazy.

Downstairs there are people passed out all around with only a few still wandering around. Gibby is curled up in a corner muttering something about world domination and Carly is still nowhere to be seen. It's 2 a.m. at this point, so Sam says she's gonna crash in the guest room upstairs and invites me to join her. I want to more than anything but some of my rationality seems to be coming back and I realize that if I'm not in my bed in the morning my mom will call the cops. I give Sam a good night kiss and go back to my apartment, stepping over the bodies that fell asleep on the living room floor on the way.

I can't remember the last time my head hurt this bad. From the moment I woke up my head had been pounding like a drum and I can't even think. I slowly sit up and the pounding worsens. The light coming through my windows is too bright and I can hardly keep my eyes open. That is, until I feel my stomach turn and have to sprint to the bathroom to avoid puking on my rug.

Once my stomach is empty I stumble to the kitchen to get myself some ice water to have with my Advil and I notice a note on the counter. Freddie, I tried to wake you at 8 but you refused to get up, so I let you sleep in. You need to stop staying at Carly's so late at night, young man! I left for work and there's pancake mix in the fridge. I'll be back at 7 tonight. -Mom

Fuck, what time was it anyways? I looked over at the clock and almost gasped when I saw that it was 11 a.m. Slowly I started to remember that there was a party at Carly's last night... but the details just wouldn't come to me. I realize that I must have gotten drunk because of this massive hangover, but how did I get so drunk that I can't even remember what happened?

After taking my Advil I took a long, hot shower to try to clear my head. When I was done and looked in the mirror to comb my hair, something on my neck caught my attention. I looked closer and realized that it was a hickey. Actually, there were at least five of them. and now that I thought about it, my back had stung a little in the shower, so I lifted my shirt and saw a bunch of scratch marks lining my whole back. My heart pounded as I came to the conclusion that I either hooked up with someone last night or got mauled by a tiger. But the scratches on my back reminded me of the marks I would get after a make out session with Sam. There's no way that we hooked up though. She's hated me ever since we broke up.

To distract myself from wondering who the hell I hooked up with, I checked my phone for the first time that morning and cursed when I saw that I had 10 missed calls from Carly. She had also sent a text begging me to come over whenever I woke up.

I hurried over there five minutes later to find the Shay's apartment a huge shitshow. Beer cans were strewn all over the place, vodka bottles smashed, furniture upside down. The sad part was that I couldn't recall who's fault it was. Carly came out of the kitchen with her hair sticking out in 100 different places and giant bags beneath her eyes.

Without saying a word, I grabbed a garbage bag and started to collect the beer cans and sweep all the broken glass. I then started to put the furniture back where it belonged, and when I was putting the wooden table back in front of the couch I thought of Sam for some reason.

"Carly, where's Sam?" I asked as she was trying to reorganize the kitchen.

She shrugged in response. "Sam came downstairs a couple hours ago looking completely freaked out and left without a word. I don't know what happened to her last night, but we'll figure it out later. Can you check the studio to see if there's anything that needs to be cleaned? Spencer will be home in a couple of hours and I have to make sure that the whole apartment is spotless."

"Yeah, I'll go check it out." I got a few extra garbage bags and dragged them to the elevator. When I got to the studio, the ding of the doors shutting behind me made me feel like I had been here last night. I shook off the feeling and surveyed the room, looking for any evidence of the party. I saw a couple Keystone's next to the beanbags, so I picked those up. A blinking light that was coming from my camera distracted me, however.

I inspected my camera and the "memory full" warning was the reason it was blinking. That's weird, I could have sworn I had a lot of room left on it after shooting that iCarly skit a couple days ago...

I brought my memory card over to my laptop and exported the footage so I could check what was taking up so much space. There was the iCarly skit, and next to it was a video that was over an hour long. "What the hell is this?" I muttered to myself as I pressed play.

Sam and I were sitting on beanbag chairs, clearly drunk out of our minds, babbling nonsense and laughing like crazy. Apparently we thought we were filming a segment for iCarly, but thankfully I must not have connected it to my laptop to stream live to the website. Laughing, I paused the video, grabbed my laptop and the garbage bags and made my way downstairs. Carly had fallen asleep at the kitchen counter, so I quietly slipped out of the apartment and went to my own so I could watch the whole video. I couldn't wait to tell Sam about it later, she would find it funny as hell.

I made myself comfortable in my bed and continued to watch the clip. We talked about a bet we made (which I'm finally starting to remember. I wonder if I won?), playing beer pong, and dancing. Then, to my horror, I watched Sam and I grind all over each other, me with a huge and obvious boner. After that we were making out. Then we fell to the floor and couldn't be seen by the camera. But our loud moans of pleasure could gave me an idea of what was going on. It all started to come back to me and I was blushing furiously.

I slammed the laptop closed and sprinted out of the apartment. Oh my God, what if Sam hates me now? Does she even remember what happened? How do I tell her? I knew I had to explain myself so I ran all the way to her apartment, praying that she would be home.

When I got there and knocked on the door, I was sure that my legs were going to give out underneath me from both running and being so nervous, so when Sam finally opened the door I had to grab onto the door frame for support.

"Sam, I don't know how to tell you this and I don't want you to kill me, but last night we-"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Save it, Freddie. I remember what happened. You don't have to apologize for leading me on, I know you would never do that sober." She started to shut the door until I stuck my foot out to block her.

"No, Sam. You're right. I wouldn't do that sober, because if we were sober I know you would kicked me in the balls. The truth is, I fucking miss you, Sam. I miss the way you would hold my hand, the way you would say my name in a such a happy way. I miss it all. Breaking up in that stupid elevator was the worst decision I've ever made, and I feel like you've hated me ever since. But when I said I loved you, I meant it. Not in a platonic way, either. You were the best thing in my life and acting like I have no romantic thoughts towards you everyday is so hard. I understand if you don't feel the same anymore, but nothing would make me happier than going back to the old us. The us that would fight pointless fights everyday but love tension it caused. The us that would share secret smiles and touches when nobody was watching. If we ever date again, I would never let anyone else's opinions change our relationship. Fuck whatever my mom, Carly, Spencer, Gibby, and the iCarly fans have to say. I just want to be with you, and I just want us to be ourselves. Last night when we were drunk, it felt like we like that again. I know I'm ranting and you might not feel the same so-" I abruptly stopped when I noticed that Sam looked like she was about to cry. "Oh shit, Sam, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Freddie, I can't believe you just said that. I've dreamed about you saying that ever since we left that elevator. I sound like a girly mess right now, but God, I really fucking miss you too. I'm sorry that I've been treating you horribly lately. I don't know how to deal with not being able to hug and kiss you whenever I want, so I go back to treating you like I did in middle school." She stepped closer until her nose was practically hitting my chest. "I'm ready for us to be us too, Freddie. I love you." And with that, I grabbed her waist like I did a million times before, lifted her up so she could wrap her arms and legs around me, and kissed her like I wanted to since the night we broke up.

When we finally separated for air I asked, "How the hell did you remember everything that happened last night? I'm pretty sure we both drank the same amount."

Sam gave me a flirty smile. "Well, Freddie, it seems like I can handle my liquor better than you since I have a perfect memory of last night. If you didn't remember, how did you find out what happened?"

"I might have found the video we filmed and watched the whole thing... and damn, it was pretty hot."

"Oh really? Why don't we go reenact the good parts?" She winked and opened the front door, strutting inside in the sexiest way possible. How did I get so lucky?

"Thank you, Gibby, for throwing that crazy birthday party," I whisper to myself as I practically run after Sam and into the bedroom. We had quite the crazy party of our own.

Fin.

Holy crap, this is over 5,000 words! I think that's the biggest chapter I've ever written, but you guys deserve it after waiting years for this update lol. I apologize if it's not that good or it's OOC, I haven't written a Fanfic in forever so I'm rusty. Hope you guys enjoyed! :)