Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, obviously.

This fic is a present for a very good friend of mine. She knows who she is. Generally I don't like Seddie, but I love her enough to write this anyways. Blah blah blah, review, review, review, blah blah blah, review. You get the picture. On we go!

He sees her coming from a mile away – her mop of curly blond hair and bright wardrobe give her away immediately, not to mention the fact that the crowd parts for her like the Red Sea to Moses. He would have noticed her anyways – he's been watching for her. He knows well enough that she's after him; she has been since he made a Your Mom joke live on iCarly. She'd walked right into really, he couldn't be blamed – how was he supposed to know that her mother really was so poor that she went to KFC just to lick other people's fingers?

Honestly, he couldn't be blamed. It wasn't his fault. Not really.

Nevertheless, when he sees her coming he wastes no time trying to escape. He swings his locker shut and turns away quickly. She catches him anyways. "Fredwina!" She says, grabbing his backpack and using it to spin him around to face her. He groans and his shoulders slump slightly. There's no escaping now – she's got a firm hold on the strap of his backpack and she doesn't appear to be letting go anytime soon. "I need to borrow twenty bucks!" She says urgently, "Gibby won a year's supply of freeze dried ice cream. You know, like the astronauts have? He says he'll give it to me for twenty bucks." There is a sparkle in her eyes that says she's not only enjoying the idea of freeze dried ice cream, she's enjoying tormenting him as well.

He sighs. "Borrow?" He says skeptically, arching one eyebrow.

She shrugs, "Borrow, have… It's all the same, Benson."

"I'm not giving you twenty bucks for freeze dried ice cream." He says slowly, narrowing his eyes at her.

She takes in a long, slow breath and lets her head fall back for a moment. She pushes him up against the wall with one hand and he sees the tip of her tongue run over her teeth. "Freddie, Freddie, Freddie." She says and the fact that she's using his name and not a nickname disturbs him a little.

There is a long pause during which she doesn't speak or look at him; she stares at her hand on his chest until the bell rings. "Sam," He says, his voice a choked whisper. He's nervous. This isn't what he was expecting from her. "We're going to be late…"

She laughs. "So?" She says simply, stepping closer to him as the hall begins to empty out. She takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly, and she is so close that he can make out individual smells. Her breath smells of the bacon she had for breakfast – most likely pilfered from someone else, because her mother doesn't cook and Sam is much too lazy to do it herself; her hair smells flowery from her shampoo; he can smell detergent on her hoodie. The scent is so uniquely her that he is taken aback slightly – it's not what he was expecting, but it fits her better than anything he would have imagined. He wonders why he's never noticed what she smells like before now – they've stood close before. But not close like this, he realizes. There's something different about this – actually, not just something, but everything. He takes in a deep breath and holds it as if trying to memorize the scent.

Then she moves her hand from where it's holding him against the wall to the center of his chest; she lets it rest there gently for a moment before moving slowly up and down. Suddenly he's very confused, because this isn't what he expects from her – he's been expecting her to pummel him and here she is, playing with the buttons on his shirt. He just stares at the top of her blonde head; she's staring at her hand, watching it move up and down on his chest. A few moments of this and then she moves her hands up onto his shoulders. He realizes now that he could escape if he wanted to. And now he realizes he doesn't want to.

"You know, Freddie," She says slowly, looking up to meet his eyes. "I've always thought you were kind of cute…" He just stares at her. Her finger tips tap his shoulders as if tapping keys on a piano and then her hands slide down his arms and onto his hips, where she rests them gently for another moment. He is frozen, staring at her and she grins back expectantly for a few seconds before he realizes she is awaiting some answer.

"Oh yeah?" Is all he can manage before his voice cracks. She smirks and gives a little nod. Her thumbs hook into his belt loops and the tips of her fingers slip into his pockets. She moves them up and down, tickling his legs through his jeans.

"Oh yes," She says, moving her gaze from his face to his neck as if she's embarrassed. Embarrassment doesn't make sense in his mind, but he can't bring himself to question it as her finger tips slide out of his pockets and move slowly around his hips before slipping into the pockets on the back of his jeans. This gesture bringers her closer to him and he is at a loss for words. "Yes," She says again, slowly. "You're such a smart boy… such a cute boy… such a…." She trails off as if at a loss for words, "Such a…" she repeats, looking up and meeting his eyes again.

He thinks he feels her hands moving in his back pockets, but he's so lost in her scent and her touch and just her that he can't really register the feeling. She frees one hand from his pocket and trails it slowly up his spine. He just stares at her. "Such a...?" He questions, eyes wide.

Her fingertips run up his side and then her hand rests gently on the back of his shoulder. She is pressed up against him and it's all he can do to keep his arms limp at his side.

She pulls away quite suddenly and he is shocked by the loss of her. It upsets him. Where she was there is only cold air and he is confused by how much this bothers him. He blinks at her and finds her grinning, "Such a sucker." She says, her voice no longer riddled with affection; she is laughing, he realizes slowly. She is laughing and – she is holding his wallet. She empties the money from the little leather folder cheerfully, taking all the money he's been saving to buy a gift for Carly.

"Thank you, Benson." She says, tossing his wallet at his feet with a smile, "You're such a silly boy, such a predictable boy." And with that she turns and sprints off in the direction she came from, shouting as she goes. "Gibby!" He hears her say, "I got the money! Freddie's buying!"

He stands there for a second, staring at the spot where she disappeared, and then he picks up his wallet and walks away, wondering why he can still smell bacon, flowers and detergent.