If Freddie was the killing sort of man, he could kill Sam for this. He didn't blame Spencer, he didn't blame Gibby, he didn't blame anyone but Sam. Sitting in his immaculate room, editing the clips for iCrushIt, Freddie seethed and fumed over the events unfolding frame by frame before his eyes. He should have seen it coming, of course.

Earlier that day, Freddie had sauntered into the iCarly studio, hips swaggering. "Hey, ladies," he announced to the two girls, who were painting each other's toenails. Carly said hello back, and Sam waved and grunted over her shoulder at him. He fidgeted with Camera B for about ten seconds before he couldn't take it anymore. "Guess what I got?" Freddie asked the room at large, pointing his hip towards Carly and Sam.

"Padded underwear to keep your skinny butt from falling out of your pants?" That was Sam, of course, not concentrating enough on Carly's blue toenails to keep from insulting him.

"What do you care about my butt, anyway? And, no. I got a PearPhone!" Freddie proudly took his new phone out of its holster on his belt and showed it to Carly.

Sam was laughing. "You wear it in a... holster? What are you, a mall cop?"

"It came free to the first twenty people in line!" Freddie defended, and then shouted "hey!" when Sam snatched it out of his hand. She immediately started poking at it.

"How much did you shell out for this thing, anyway?"

"Doesn't matter. I saved for a while, though. Give it back!"

Sam played keepaway, easily jumping onto the hood of the carseat and holding his phone out of Freddie's reach. As a matter of fact, Freddie had saved allowance, done extra chores, and some freelance web design on the side, for nearly four months in order to afford it. The sight of Sam dangling his shiny new phone in the air like it was some kind of cat toy made him panic. He waved his arms futilely.

"How much do you love your phone, Fredward?" Sam danced a bit, swinging the phone around. Carly was keeping out of this situation, blowing nonchalantly on her toes.

"I don't love it, just give it back!"

"Tell me you looove it!"

"Give! It! Back!" Freddie clambered up onto the hood of the carseat and lunged for the phone, but Sam was too fast and fell gracefully back into the seat as he leaped past. He ended up in a heap, face-first, on the floor, groaning. Why did he always end up smashed into the floor whenever Sam started something? Freddie moaned some more, mostly for effect.

There was a delightful chiming sound. It was the PearPhone default ringtone. It even sounded expensive. Freddie rolled over to see the shining edge of the phone stuck in his face. "It's for you," Sam said, helping him up with a rough pull on the shoulder.

It had turned out to be Gibby, asking if he needed to bring anything for the extra filming today. He didn't, according to Sam, who said that they had everything they needed already.

Over the next hour, Sam taunted Freddie about his gadget love at least three times. While clearing out the studio and setting up the crushing table, it was "When you get married, are you going to keep the name Benson, or go more traditional and take the surname PearPhone?"

Over making a disgusting-yet-crushable sandwich of anchovies, pickles, olives and pimento cheese, Sam snidely said, "I bet you named your phone Carly, and you hold it tenderly in your arms when you fall asleep."

Over finding Spencer and helping him to unglue a soda can from his hand, she looked around Spencer's shoulder and declared "You love gadgets because they're the only things clean enough for your mom to approve of."

Dropping Spencer's hand, Freddie rebuffed "Don't bring my mom into this!"

"Why not? She's got you so brainwashed, the only girl you'll bring home to dinner will have to be constructed in a clean room!"

"Where do you even get these ideas? I just like them because I like having the right tool for the job. It's like using a scalpel instead of a bandsaw for surgery!" Freddie had forgotten Spencer entirely, who was caught, confused as can be, between Sam and Freddie spitting fireballs at each other.

"If you were my doctor, I'd die from disgust!"

"I am NOT in love with my phone! It's just cool, and better for everything! It's like using this sledgehammer instead of a shoe for iCrushIt!" Freddie wielded the hammer in question, swinging violently under its weight.

"Woah woah WOAH there, kiddos!" Spencer snapped into action, grabbing the hammer out of Freddie's hands and pushing Sam down onto the couch. "No touching the big hammer. I thought we talked about this. I'm the designated grownup around here, except when it comes to what?" Spencer looked at the two fuming kids expectantly.

"Feeding fish, wearing pants, and knowing when to call 911." Sam and Freddie recited in unison.

"That's right. Now, I don't care what this fight is about, but I declare it to be over, and you have to promise me that you will never weild a hammer at each other again. Got that?"

"Got it," said Freddie.

"Yeah, sure," said Sam.

"Good. I don't want either of you getting taken away to Yakima, either." Spencer hefted the sledgehammer over his shoulder and went to answer a knock at the door. It was Gibby.

The next thirty minutes were what made Freddie so enraged, not the whole afternoon of Sam making fun of him. It happened so fast. Gibby said hello, Carly ducked in to say hi and then quickly ensconced herself back into her room to write a history paper, they all went upstairs to the studio (along with the sandwich and hammer), and set everything up for a new episode of iCrushIt.

Freddie's phone rang again. Spencer was waiting on the sidelines, hammer at the ready, prepared for the signal. It was Felix on the phone, trying to hook up his grandmother's television. Somewhere along the way, Freddie had become known as the guy to call in case of problems like that. Probably it was because he was such an excellent and upstanding member of the AV Club, thought Freddie. He didn't notice Sam tossing the sandwich away, or Sam and Gibby heading out to the hallway, or that Gibby started filming.

One moment he was explaining about coaxial cables to Felix, and the next his phone was grabbed out of his hand and Spencer was bringing the sledgehammer down on the slick, shiny plastic in slow-motion. Time went syrupy. Freddie's brain turned off. Sam told Gibby to stop filming, Spencer was apologizing, and Freddie felt like he was a piece of paper with a hole burnt in the middle of it.

Sam had actually crushed his phone! His brand new, super expensive, totally out of stock, amazing phone! And now, on top of that thorough indignity, Freddie had to sit down, edit together a short out of the occurrence, and put it online to share with the world.

He was going to get her back. Freddie would find something that Sam had worked hard to get, and destroy it completely. He finished editing the short, and stared at his own bewildered face in the last frame until the pixels started bleeding together. Then, Freddie uploaded it, his plan for revenge percolating in the back of his brain. Freddie imagined Sam's face, distraught and pained like his own. Revenge would be sweet.

A week passed by, and nobody was wise to Freddie's plan. He was biding his time, watching Sam, paying attention to her every word and every move, to find exactly the right thing to destroy. He felt sneaky. He felt cruel. He felt bad, and he enjoyed every second of it.

Freddie's first impulse was to somehow chop off Sam's hair. It was gorgeous, and he'd always wondered how long it had taken to grow it out. But no, she didn't care about it. It was just there, on her head. On Monday she had willingly dipped it into paint to assist Spencer in a sculpture. It was washable, he had claimed, but Sam should have known by now not to trust him, and now her normally shiny gold hair was tinged slightly red. Freddie liked it, honestly, but Sam didn't appear to care. So the hair was out.

After a few days of thinking about Sam constantly, Freddie realized a few things. Foremost, she did not value objects much at all. She'd happily destroy something or wreck something if it meant there would be a satisfying result, even if it was just a good crunching sound. She owned very little that Freddie could see. He'd not yet been to her house, but he only ever saw her with things for school or stuff Carly was sharing with her, like nail polish, lip gloss, or bows and arrows. You know, girly things. She had plenty of clothes, but they were often a bit ragged or worn, and Freddie knew she didn't treat her twenty pairs of different plaid shorts with care. Apart from that, and the food she consumed voraciously, Sam seemingly lived a life devoid of valuable objects.

He was beginning to think that his plan for revenge wasn't going to happen, because Sam didn't care about anything enough to equal four months of savings destroyed in one unthinking blow. That was when she sat down in front of him in the cafeteria.

"What's goin' on, Freds?" Sam was usually in a good mood at lunch time. Today, it seemed, she was deciding on a new way to say Freddie's name. "Fredster? Freddo? Fredwina?" She rolled each one around in her mouth for a while.

"Nothing much. Got an A on my math quiz, not that you'd care." Freddie stole some fries from Carly as Carly caught a big pretzel Sam tossed her way. Sam reached over and wordlessly yoinked Freddie's apple juice. This was when Freddie realized the key to his revenge was starring him right in the face.

Carly's words of congratulation regarding the math quiz faded into a faint buzz as Freddie stared down his target. Drake Parker stared back from the shiny blue surface of Sam's prized lunchbox. Sam and her mom had evidently hitched a ride with her Uncle Ivan the trucker all the way to Los Angeles to see Drake Parker in concert, and Sam had come back last summer with the lunchbox and every Drake Parker CD yet produced. She hadn't shut up about how great the concert was for at least four months.

Oh yes, the lunchbox would get crushed, and it would be very sweet indeed.

A/N The iCrushIt filmed in this chapter is real, and you can watch it on the iCarly website. It is kind of amazingly great. Thanks to lj user femme_cat for pointing out the plotbunny regarding the lunchbox. This will be maybe two or three chapters long, I haven't decided yet. It's supposed to take place pretty early on, before Freddie mellowed out like he has in Season 2.

And now, a question: I have a bit of an idea for a shorter sequel to my seminal Seddie work of unbearable genius, Point & Click. I wrote P&C to be self-contained, and as I kind of hate when people create huge personal canons that I can never keep track of, I really want to shy away from continuing to write in that universe. But I'm not sure how to write the idea I have without presuming most of the things that occurred in P&C to start off. So my question is, would you all like to read more things after Point & Click, or would you rather I keep writing oneshots and independent multichaptered works that can be read alone? PM me or review and include your answer, please! Thank you so much for reading!