The Shay residence is blanketed in a calm silence, broken only by the soft snoring from Spencer's room, and the muted buzz of the television as it paints the walls with soft gray flickering shadows.

Well, it is the middle of the night after all, and as you lay sprawled across the couch, watching silent reruns of Girly Cow, you can't help but wonder what the dork next door is doing. Probably talking html in his sleep and dreaming about Carly, who you're kind of worried about right now on account of the fact that she's sick in bed with some sort of flu, but then again, its flu season and so that's not surprising.

So you're on your way back to the couch after getting another plateful of ham before you realize that it's the first Saturday night of the month and you're supposed to be doing Wake Up Spencer with Freddork tonight.

Then minutes later you're creeping stealthily across the hallway, and picking the lock to his apartment with a hairpin you found conveniently placed on the side of your head, a devious grin making its way into your face. You tiptoe past his freakishly clean living room, past the kitchen and into his bedroom, making sure to silently close the door behind you.

It's weird because Freddie's room smells like him, and strangely enough you don't feel repulsed - you're choosing to ignore the something at the back of your mind jokingly tells you that you could be allergic to dork and maybe you should get out of here - you stay instead, remembering what you're here for. You've only been in here a few times before, but you've never really looked, and you feel kind of sneaky-ish, but you remember that you did indeed pick his lock to get in here, and that was definitely a bigger crime than just looking at his stuff like you're doing now.

You're inspecting his wall of awards when you feel a curious tugging at the corners of your mouth, and you have no idea whether you should be laughing or not because, seriously, it kind of intimidates you to see his framed Honour Roll certificates glaring down at you like this. And although you've never told anyone, you don't bother trying in school because even though you know you're actually pretty smart, you just don't see the point of doing good.

It's not like your mother, who never really completed high school herself, really cares about your grades. You blink back a tear, because suddenly you're thinking of her, your mother, who used to be your mom before the whole bitter divorce thing, and she used to be someone you looked up to, because she was just so beautiful and different from your dad's side of the family, where all the jailbirds and juvenile delinquents came from.

You remember a time when you used to have a family. You used to be a family, but then things started to fall apart, and your parents had tried so hard to keep their quarrelling under the fake smiles, under the bandages of their crumbling relationship. Eventually it was a dream that just ended in an instant; the slam of a door and you're lying there in the dark, quivering in a feverish cold sweat under the thin duvet, praying that he would just come back and kiss you goodnight, and be the father he never was, the man you never really got to know.

You sigh quietly when your depressing little flashback ends and you're back in Freddie's room, thinking about how much things have changed in the last seven years, thinking about how you've had to put up these walls, this mask, to protect yourself and your feelings, not wanting to be hurt again. Then Fredward Benson comes along, and immediately you don't trust him, you're all defensive suddenly, simply because he's a guy and you've learnt all these years, not to trust anyone male. Come to think of it, the only female you trust anyway is Carly, and still you don't completely trust her, because, damn, you don't even trust yourself anymore.

But Freddie. Just when you're pretty sure you hate him, he does something completely stupid and insignificant, something just plain funny, though you'll never admit it, and you find yourself involuntarily doing a mental one-eighty, feeling your resolve fade little each time. Sure, you're in denial, but some part of you knows that he's just as important to you as Carly. He's that anchor you've chosen to somewhat trust. The only guy, you'd say, is really part of your life.

A snort interrupts your snooping and you reel around and stumble a little, forgetting that you're in Freddie's room and somehow, being the klutz you can sometimes be, you manage to trip over some sort of stool (who keeps stools in their bedrooms anyway??) and you end up pretty much lying on top of and practically straddling the dork, who lets out a soft grunt as you squeeze the air out of him with your weight.

It takes you quite a long moment to realize exactly how close you are to him, how your breathing has suddenly quickened, and how your pulse is now pounding in your ears. Then suddenly you're just so aware of the burning sensation in your cheeks, thanking god it's dark, and nobody can see you like this, all flustered and flushed because of a stupid dork.

You try to dislodge yourself from the somehow still sleeping Freddie, but he proves to be stronger when he's asleep than during daylight hours because when he shifts onto his side, his arm flops down onto you and before you know it, he's wrapped himself tightly around your body. You end up with your face pressed into his chest and as much as you'd like to deny it, you can't escape how nice it feels, just lying there, breathing him in.

But what is wrong with you? You're pressed up against Freddork of all people, and you're actually enjoying it. Vaguely you're kind of thinking that someone must have drugged the ham and that's why you're all woozy-like, but all you can concentrate on is how nice and soft he is and how he smells slightly of fabric softener and cinnamon.

All you want to do is stay here forever because it's one of those rare moments when you feel safe and loved. And even though your subconcious mind is screaming at you to snap out of it because you know it's not true, it's just that part of you that yearns for arms to hold you, it's that part that's taking over, and you know it'll be like a dream by morning. But it all seems so real now and it's all that matters.

"Sam…"

You stiffen when you hear him murmur your name. Instinctively you pull back to look at his face, to check if he's awake, breathing a sigh of relief when you notice that his eyes are still closed and his breaths still shallow. His lips are parted slightly, so you're sure you're not just hearing things, and then breath smells like mint toothpaste when he breathes your name again.

"Sam…you're pretty..."

And then it's like you have a fever, you're already four shades darker of red, and you swear your body temperature has reached impossible heights within the last millisecond. Half of you wants to bodyslam him in his sleep for saying that but you're silently amused and pleased, and it's also kind of nice to know because you've never thought you were attractive to guys, unlike Carly, who always has them falling all over their feet for her.

Then there's your signature smirk creeping onto your lips when you realize this little midnight confession is prime blackmail information and you could use it to your advantage, but you take one look at the soft smile playing along his lips as he sleeps and you know in your heart that you can't do it, you just can't. So you'll keep this little secret of his to yourself, because it could take a lot of explaining as to what you were doing in his room in the first place, and you've never been good at detail.

Freddie shifts in his sleep again, he moves his arm away and he's lying on his back again, and it's funny because you're kind of disappointed that you're finally free. But you look at the clock and realize that it's past one in the morning and you should probably head back to Carly's and maybe go to sleep, even though most of you wishes you could stay like this for the rest of the night.

Reluctantly extricating yourself from his side, you sigh and get off his bed, smoothing out his duvet, trying to make it look as though you'd never been there. Then on a sudden impulse you press your lips to his cold cheek, whispering a soft, 'thanks', before you turn and leave.

Swiftly you dart through the remainder of his apartment and take a backward glance as you leave to prance across the dimmed-out hallway back to the Shay's loft, wondering what the hell just happened in there, and whether it was just a dream that would be forgotten by morning. Sighing dejectedly, you curl up on the couch, letting your heavy eyelids fall as you drift into a dreamless senseless sleep.

And you never did get to Wake Up Spencer after all.

okay, so if this sounded maybe kind of dry and fragmented and OOC in several places, well, i actually wrote this in, like, four seperate goes, so yeah. uhh, i'm not expecting very many reviews for this, but i'll kind of be like, "tell me what you thought of it", yeah?
-lovees,
PamplemousseRose (i used to be known as lilchipmunkk, btw)