Title: It Rains
Rating: K+
Summary: You know what they say about Seattle.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Or do I? …No, I don't.
Warnings: Allusions to violence and crime.
Notes: This is a response to the 'Seattle' challenge prompt at the iCarly livejournal community The Groovy Smoothie.

It Rains

The rain was coming down again. Water rushed through the gutters, whirlpooling into drains and carrying whatever it could with it. Umbrellas materialized in people's hands and they scurried back and forth, each isolated in the need to escape the wet and cold.

Sam, on the other hand, was entirely unaffected by the rain. She was soaked through, her blond curls darkening with the heaviness of the precipitation and her shirt clinging tightly to her skinny shoulders, but she whistled a tune glibly and arched her brows evenly at one or two staring passerby. One man stopped in his tracks at the sight of her, his mouth working fish-like in its attempt to make a sound.

"…Sam?"

Sam spun around, her face freezing in a familiar guilty smile. "Principal Franklin!" She swung her arms back, hiding her paraphernalia behind her. "Funny seeing you here!"

He closed his mouth into a firm line, unsure how to respond. He took the sight of her in, from the large black rubber boots that jutted up around her knees to the sizable gash on the side of her forehead, drops of blood and rain failing immiscibly around the slick, black substance that stained her face and clothes in large blotches.

Finally, one of the many questions working at his brain managed to come out. "Are you… alright?"

She grinned widely; the overextended smile that tended to show up when she hadn't gotten into trouble just yet. "Just a little wet."

This stumped him again, and his mouth went back to the hard, immovable form that meant he couldn't quite find the words – something that didn't happen often. Sam decided to take the chance offered.

"You know what they say about Seattle…" she paused lamely.

He took a deep breath (in through the nose, out through the mouth, like his therapist had taught him) to keep himself steady. "What do they say about Seattle?"

She shrugged feebly; "It rains."

There was a moment, in the quarter of a second before Sam turned and bolted, maneuvering the crowbar behind her as easily as if she'd had been born with it, in which Principal Franklin almost laughed. As it was, he found himself staring at the spot where she had disappeared into the crowd as he belatedly mused;

"Yes. I suppose it does."