iGet in A Fight

A/N: Well, it's been forever since I posted anything and this story has been in the works for months. One of my friends in particular has been waiting for me to finish it, so I hope it lives up to her expectations. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly.

Freddie was in the guys' locker room. He had had to stay after to make up a gym class, from that time he had an allergic reaction to one of the shots his mom gave him. He sat down on the bench and began unlocking his locker when the football team came in. He knew one or two of the guys, since he was a junior now and that meant some guys in his grade were on the varsity team.

Oh, great he thought to himself as he noticed who one of the guys was. Nick was a jerk, to put it bluntly. Girls thought he was hot and he knew it, so to put it bluntly: he was an overconfident jerk. Freddie decided to just keep to the side and ignore them; then maybe they would return the favor and ignore him too.

"Hey," one of them said with a nod in Freddie's direction.

Freddie looked up and saw it was his friend, Chris. He smiled; Chris was a good guy unlike most of the other idiots on the team. "Hey," he responded.

"Do you remember what the chem homework was?" Chris asked conversationally.

"Yeah, we had to do that packet thing she gave out in class," Freddie informed him.

"Right, forgot. Thanks. So what's up?" Chris asked.

"Nothin' much, got great stuff planned for iCarly this week, though," he answered.

"Nice," Chris acknowledged; he was a regular viewer, although Freddie was beginning to suspect that it had less to do with iCarly and more about Carly herself.

Freddie had been about to explain what they were gonna do when someone interrupted their conversation. "Hey, you're friends with those two hot chicks with the webshow, right?" a voice asked from behind them.

Sam took a deep breath as she left detention, glad to finally be out of there. She stretched and headed to her locker. After grabbing what she needed, she went over to the boys' locker room. Freddie was giving her ride since he had had to stay after to make up gym because of something his insane mother did. Crazy lady, Sam thought, chuckling under her breath to herself.

She looked at the clock and noticed it would probably be another five more minutes. She sighed and leaned against the wall. Her thoughts drifted to the aforementioned dork. He'd been occupying her thoughts more often lately and it was starting to worry her.

He was so different than he used to be. He was taller, not a twig anymore, his voice was lower, and while she would never say so aloud, he was kind of cute now. He'd also stopped bugging Carly about being in love with her. He was a lot calmer now, too. He didn't rise to the bait like he used when she would insulted him, now he would mainly just roll his eyes. His lack of a reaction caused her to stop beating him up all the time. At least, that's what she told herself.

But, in many other ways, he was still the same. Same meatball eyes, same tech talk, same overprotective mother, still too nice. On second thought he hadn't changed much, or at least only on the outside. Why am I still thinking about him? I really do think about him too much. Carly would totally think… Holy crap, I can't like him. But the more she thought about it the more her horror grew. She decided to simply stop thinking about it. It was just a little crush…right?

Freddie turned around and saw Nick smirking down at him, eyebrows raised in a question. He met his gaze warily, "Um, yeah. I'm friends with Carly and Sam. Why?"

"'Cuz, they're hot," Nick reiterated with a tone that implied "duh". "How about you put in a good word for me with one of them? Preferably the blonde one."

Freddie stiffened at that comment but made no move to answer it. Chris glanced over from his seat on the bench next to him. He knew Freddie was protective of his best friends and Nick's attitude was not something Freddie liked to hear, though he knew it was a commonly held opinion. Chris had suspected for a little while that Freddie liked Sam now and this certainly must be pissing him off. Those two girls were one of the few things that could really make him mad and he knew that if you really made Freddie mad you were in for hell.

Then one of Nick's lackeys spoke up, "You sure you want her? She's got a pretty nasty streak."

Nick smirked and shrugged, "I like 'em hot, blonde and feisty. Besides she just needs the right kinda guy to show her who's in charge. Besides you know what they say about the crazy ones…"

At that Freddie launched himself to his feet, a dark look on his face. No way was some asshole gonna talk about his Sam like that. "Don't talk about Sam like that," he ordered.

Surprise covered Nick's face; no one talked to him like that. His popularity aside, he was also a strong guy that no one would choose to mess with. "What?"

Freddie crossed his arms and stared him down, "I said, don't say things like that about her."

Nick took a step closer to Freddie and glared at him. No one told him what to do. Surprisingly, Freddie stood his ground and actually glared back, even more fiercely, at Nick. Nick was caught off guard again, but still remained confident, "I can say whatever the hell I want." And he punctuated that statement with a hard shove. Freddie took a step back, before uncrossing his arms and curling his hands into fists.

"And I say shut the fuck up about her," he then shoved Nick in return, causing him to take a step back as well. Nick did not take being challenged well and brought his hand back and punched Freddie squarely in the shoulder. Freddie faltered back another step and his breath hissed out. Nick smirked, thinking it was over and started to turn back to his friends to gloat when he felt something slam into his side with a lot of force. He stumbled into the bench.

The guys from the other rows were starting to come over to see what was going on. The space around Freddie and Nick cleared. Freddie was standing at one end with his fists clenched while Nick was halfway over the bench.

Nick quickly rose to his feet and glared at Freddie, "You're dead!" He ran at him and the two began exchanging punches. While Nick landed more punches–though Freddie did get a few good ones in–none of Nick's them seemed to even faze Freddie as he was faster and able to lean away to make the punches less strong. He also had built up a lot of endurance from simply being around Sam for all those years.

Then Freddie got a good uppercut in, slamming in under Nick's chin causing his head to jerk back. Freddie followed it by a hard shove to his body making him stumble back. Nick clutched his jaw and spat out some blood. This seemed to cause one of his 'friends' to snap out of his role as a spectator. Unfortunately for Freddie, it was the single biggest dude on the team.

He grabbed Freddie from behind and threw him against the lockers, pinning him there. Freddie gasped; he had been thrown right on top of one of the locks that jutted out from the lockers. It was pressing into his back and was very painful, especially since it was right next to his spine. He strained against the arms pressing his shoulders to the locker but gave up, knowing he couldn't get out of this monster's grip. He had to settle for looking over and glaring at Nick.

Nick was still rubbing his jaw before turning towards Freddie and smirking, obviously finding his predicament amusing.

Freddie's gaze darkened further, "So, you're gonna let your little backup dancers fight your battles for you? Typical," Freddie spat at him, throwing him a disgusted look full of contempt. He knew it wasn't good to poke the bear but he figured that only an insult to Nick's giant pride would get him down.

Sure enough, a vein popped out on Nick's head as a couple of guys chuckled in their audience. "I fight my own battles you little bitch. Put him down!" he barked at the giant holding him. He quickly let go of Freddie and went back to the outskirts of the fight.

Freddie stumbled a bit as he stood on his own again. His hand reached back and rubbed the spot on his back, damn, that was gonna hurt in the morning. He quickly turned his attention back to the testosterone filled moron.

They stalked towards the middle of the clearing, Nick pissed off and Freddie looking deadly. This time Freddie sent the first punch into his body. Nick grabbed his arm and used it to pull Freddie into a choke hold. They began grappling more than they had had before. Nick slammed Freddie against the lockers but Freddie barely seemed to notice and swept his leg out from under him causing them both to topple to the floor. They rolled around on the floor for a while before disengaging and standing up.

Nick launched a strike towards Freddie's head, who ducked but Nick, anticipating this sent his other fist, hitting Freddie hard on the side of his face. Freddie got a slight nose bleed which he wiped away without even pausing, eyes never leaving Nick. It was obvious he was still filled with rage and adrenaline.

The fight hardly pausing as they went back at each other. Nick was beginning to slow down, however, and Freddie didn't seem to have lost any energy. Freddie almost seemed to be able to sense that the tide was turning his way.

After landing a hard right hook to Nick's face sent him stumbling backward, Freddie put him in a choke hold and pulled him down onto the ground. He kneeled on top of him and delivered a bunch of rapid blows to his shoulder and upper back while holding down his head with the other hand. Freddie then pressed his face to the ground so Nick was looking sideways. He leaned down and spoke harshly into his ear, "You will never speak about Sam like that ever again. In fact you won't ever speak to her again. Got it?"

Nick didn't answer so Freddie picked his head up and hit it back down, "Got it?" he demanded again.

Nick groaned, "I got it, okay? I got it."

Freddie smirked in victory, "Good." He stood up off him and went over to his locker, grabbed his stuff and headed towards the other end of the locker room, to get away from the small crowd staring at him. As he moved to leave the row, the group parted before him and began whispering amongst themselves. Nick had struggled up and went to a bench. His friends went over to him asking if he was okay. He merely snapped at them and glared at the floor, holding his head.

Everyone began returning to their own lockers as they discussed the fight. Chris grabbed his own stuff and went to see how Freddie was.

After a little while she began to hear louder voices coming from behind the locker room door. Then she heard some loud banging and crashes. Soon they were followed by some hoots of "fight!" Awesome, she thought with a smile. Sam Puckett loved a good fight. Normally, she would just go in to watch the fight - the fact that it was a boys' locker room would be ignored -but after the last time, she knew that if she was caught she would be suspended. As cool as watching the fight would be she decided it wasn't worth a suspension.

She would just have to settle for listening and getting Freddie to give her the play by play. She wondered how many people were in the fight. There was another crash and a collective cheer. After a few minutes, though the noises seemed to die off.

Sam strained to hear what was going on in the locker room. It was pretty quiet so she guessed the fight was over. Damn it. She couldn't wait to see who had been fighting. She decided all she could do was to wait and see who came out looking like crap. She went to a corner where she could easily see who was coming out and leaned against the wall, content to wait. She could get Freddie to give her the details when he got out.

Soon enough a couple of guys came out. She recognized that they were on the football team. Who messed with the football team? Maybe someone else on the team? She wondered to herself.

As they passed her she was able to hear snatches of their conversation.

"…can't believe it," one guy was saying to the other.

"Yeah, I know. I never would have thought those two would have gotten into a fight…" was the reply before they were too far down the hall for her to tell what they were saying.

So, it's weird that the two guys who got into the fight, got into a fight. This keeps getting more interesting. Sam thought. Then three more guys came out.

"That was sick!" the first said, high-fiving one of the others.

"Yeah, it's about time someone kicked his ass," replied the guy he'd high-fived.

"Never thought he would have been the one to do it, though," the third guy admitted, causing the others to agree as they got too far away to hear.

So one of the guys in the fight was a jerk and deserved it. Sam couldn't wait to find out what happened.

"…remind me never to say anything like that about her, ever," a guy coming out was saying.

"Yeah, not that I ever would have before just because, you know, but I especially wouldn't now knowing how he would react," the second one replied.

"I wouldn't have thought he would be someone to have to think but I guess you do."

"Apparently. Who knew he was so tough? I guess you never really know."

Sam decided that she would stop trying to guess who got in the fight because she was becoming more confused by the minute.

The door opened again, she was starting to wonder just how many people were in there.

Then, she realized this must have been one of the guys in the fight; he looked like crap. His hair was all messed up and he had a black eye along with a split lip. He was hunched over slightly and she could see a bruise forming on part of his arm. His knuckles looked red as well.

After she got over his injuries, which were pretty extensive for a high school fight, she was able to tell who it was: Nick. Wow, who the hell got in a fight with him? Now she understood a bunch of the comments. He looked like he lost, hard. Damn, I really need to find out who knocked him off his pedestal. She didn't really have anything against him personally, and he was pretty cute, but he was too full of himself for her tastes. Anyone who could beat him in a fight was someone she wanted to meet. Heck, someone who even had the guts to just start a fight with him was someone she wanted to meet. He was strong, and had tons of pride, so it would have been hard to beat him enough that the fight would end.

He still looked really pissed, "I can't believe that punk did this. Since when did he get strong enough to do this?"

"I have no clue. He just wouldn't stay down," one of his friends answered, his voice held a bit of incredulity.

"Whatever, let's just get out of here." Nick growled and they headed away.

No one came out for about a minute before a guy held open the door, turned from her and talking to someone just inside. "You sure you're okay dude?"

"Yeah," a voice came from within. It sounded pretty familiar but she couldn't quite tell who it was: the locker rooms echoed a bit.

"Ok, congrats on kicking his ass." She recognized the guy talking outside the door. It was the guy Carly liked. Chris or something?

She heard a chuckle, "Thanks, I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah, later." And he left. She waited eagerly; it sounded like he had been talking to the other guy that was in the fight.

Finally another guy came out. He had on a gray hoodie and was wearing a familiar backpack. Sam stepped from the shadows. I guess it's not the other dude who was in the fight. At least he can tell me what happened.

"Yo, Fredward. I could hear the fight from outside the door. Who kicked Nick's ass? The dude looked like crap," she chuckled. He turned his head toward her when she called his name but he still had the hood up.

Then he put down his hood and just looked at her. Sam couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her mouth as it dropped open. Freddie had a bruise on the side of his face that she bet was just about the size of Nick's fist.

"Hey Sam," was all he said as he stared at her with a tired smile.

"Y-you?" was all she could spit out. He nodded. She got over her shock and began to barrage him with questions. "I can't believe you got into a fight with Nick! Why the hell did you get into a fight with him? How could you have even been in a fight? More importantly, how could you have won? He's on the football team! How on earth did you survive?"

Freddie looked uncomfortable, though it was obvious that he was proud of himself, and her disbelief was clearly stoking his ego. He began walking out of the building, towards his car. "It's no big deal."

"Of course it is! You have a giant bruise on your face! You never get in fights! What the hell happened?" Sam cried with disbelief as she followed him.

He paled slightly at the bruise comment, "Is it that noticeable? Crap. My mom is gonna kill me."

"Trust me, it's definitely that noticeable. You'd have to be blind not to see it." She shook her head, "Only you could get in a fight and be worried about your mom."

Freddie seemed to be thinking hard, probably about how to keep his psycho mom from finding out.

"How are you even remotely strong enough to beat Nick up?" Sam asked.

"Well," her question had distracted him from his thoughts and he was enjoying having her undivided attention, "You remember Shane? The guy you and Carly made fall down an elevator shaft with your insaneness?"

"That was not my fault! He should have been watching where he was going! And I am not insane!" Sam protested.

"Of course you aren't," he replied sarcastically, "Anyway, since he was in a full body cast, he let me use the gym membership he had signed up for. And I used it the whole time he was in the hospital, at first only a bit but then more regularly. When he was finally able to go again I signed up myself and I've been going since then."

"Oh," Sam took a minute to digest this new information. Now that she thought about, she hadn't like hit or tackled Freddie in a while, so she couldn't really gauge his strength accurately. It was just weirder to do that since they were older now and stuff. He was also a lot taller than her and wasn't as annoying as he used to be. She partially thought that it had been his stupid voice that had gotten on her nerves so much when they were young and now that it dropped, and he was more like a guy, she didn't feel like doing that kinda stuff as much anymore – at least to him, Gibby still suffered. "How often do you go? To the gym, I mean."

He glanced at her, she seemed genuinely curious. He couldn't see any harm so, "About two or three times a week. You know those mother and son wood carving classes?"

She laughed, "Yeah."

"They stopped over a year ago," he told her, wondering what her reaction would be.

"Really?" she was surprised; maybe she should be giving him more credit. He worked out, got in a fight and had managed to lie to them. While most people would be annoyed about that, she was impressed he had done it all and gotten away with it. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I had the crazy idea you would make fun of me," he said sarcastically.

She chuckled, "I guess you have a point, I still can't really believe it. How did you convince your mom to let you do that? It seems like something she would think would hurt you. I mean, the woman thinks flowers are gonna hurt you!"

They pulled into a space and got out at the Plaza. "Well, I told her I was taking extra credit computer classes. It's easy to rattle off a bunch of tech stuff I 'learned' that day. No one ever knows what I'm talking about and I don't think she really listens."

"She's not the only one," Sam added out of reflex. She was impressed; he seemed to have thought of everything. They walked into the lobby and saw Lewbert sitting at his desk, per usual. Once he saw them enter he began yelling, per usual, "No beat up kids in my lobby!"

Freddie, already not in the best of moods, didn't like being reminded of his injuries, and gave him finger. Sam laughed at the outraged expression on Lewbert's face. He began shouting incomprehensibly at them. "That was hilarious."

"I guess it really is that noticeable. Do you know of any way I can make it so my mom can't tell?" Freddie asked, getting anxious now.

"Hm, maybe, we need to go to Carly's though." Sam had an idea, though he probably wouldn't like it much which of course, made her like it more.

"Okay," he agreed, anything to keep his mom from finding out.

They got up to the Shay's apartment and walked in. Surprisingly, no one was home.

"Where are they?" Freddie wondered aloud.

Sam spotted a note on the counter, " 'Hey Sam (and Freddie if you're there), Spencer got into some trouble involving fire and Mexican sponges so I had to go bail him out. I probably won't be back 'til seven. Feel free to anything in the fridge, but try not to eat everything. – Carly'. I make no promises," she commented, before heading over to the fridge.

Freddie put his bag down and sat on the couch. He was starting to really hurt now, and groaned. "I feel like someone hit me all over with a mallet, or a tennis racket," he added, glaring lightly at her back, remembering that time with Fred.

She smirked into the fridge, "Good times, good times. If it really hurts that much, why don't you get some ice or something?"

He was surprised, "Good idea." He got up and went over. He reached over her and opened the freezer. He grabbed an ice pack and then wrapped it in some paper towels before placing it on his face. "So what was that idea you had?"

Sam had found ham and was munching on it as she closed the fridge door. "Oh, right. Come on. We need to go upstairs." She headed up the stairs, him following.

She stopped at the second floor and went into one of the rooms. Freddie paused at the door; he had only been on this floor twice in the entire time he knew Carly and Sam. It was strange being there, he felt like he was intruding or something.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" Sam asked and so he walked into the room. It wasn't Carly's room and probably used to be a guest room, but Sam seemed to have turned it into her own room.

She had opened a drawer and was rooting around for something. He sat in her desk chair while she searched.

"Ah-ha, got it," she was holding something that looked suspiciously like-

"Is that makeup? I am not wearing makeup," he stated firmly.

"It's just concealer, and you said you didn't want your mom to know," Sam reminded him, smirking.

"But..." Freddie tried to protest.

"Look, either you want her to find out or you don't. Which is it?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

He sighed, "I don't want her to find out."

She smiled triumphantly, "Then come over here."

He got up and sat on her bed as she indicated. He took the ice off his face and put it on his side.

"Where else are you hurt anyway?" She asked, curious. "Does your mom still do those 'bi-weekly body inspections' or whatever?"

"I don't know exactly how bad the rest is, when I changed out of my gym clothes, nothing had really showed up yet. She doesn't do that anymore. I made her stop a while ago." Freddie said, trying to sound tough.

"Really? And how long is 'a while ago'? Last week?"

He glared, "Two months ago, if you must know."

She smirked, "You really should check out just how bad it is. To be sure you aren't too badly hurt."

"I guess," he acknowledged. Sam opened the concealer and frowned, there really wasn't much left. "I'm gonna go get some of Carly's. Mine's kinda old, I don't use it much." She left the room and headed across the hall to Carly's room. She quickly located her makeup and went back to the room. Maybe I can trick Freddie into letting me put lipstick on him she thought, silently laughing at the image. However, once she walked back into the room her thoughts came to a screeching halt. Holy…

Freddie was still sitting on the bed but he seemed to have decided to take her advice about finding out how badly he was hurt. Sam was starting to get how he might have won the fight because there sitting on the bed in Carly's guest room (cough-her room-cough) bed was a shirtless Freddie. He had a number of bruises on his back including one large one on his lower back, near his spine. Sam couldn't see much since his back was turned, but she could definitely tell that he had indeed been working out.

A few seconds later he turned so she could see his front. Freddie appeared to be poking another rather large bruise and wincing. Sam, however, only vaguely registered what he was doing, she was too busy staring. Oh, my, God. He had actual muscles. He wasn't extremely ripped but he was definitely not a stick. In fact, she thought she saw a hint of six-pack. Even though she could see that he had a bunch of bruises from the fight, he still looked pretty hot. In fact, at least in Sam's opinion, the bruises added to his appeal. Apparently he had not been lying or exaggerating about his time at the gym. He had to have been working out to look like this.

She shook her head, trying to make herself act normal around him. It's okay; Sam, It's just Freddie, who you may have a small crush on, sitting on your bed, shirtless. Forget it – she was screwed. She took a deep breath and walked into the room, making sure to make enough noise that he heard her.

He glanced up from his self-examination. He looked kind of embarrassed when he saw her – fully realizing the situation – but decided to try and ignore it. "Hi,"

"Hey," Sam answered in what she hoped was a normal tone. "I don't think there's enough make-up to cover up those bruises too," she informed him, gesturing to the ones on his upper body.

"That's fine," he responded, grabbing his shirt and pulling it back over his head, flinching slightly due to his sore muscles. "I'll just not go swimming for awhile, which will be so hard with it being winter and Seattle and all." He smirked.

She chuckled, "I'm sure it will." She gave his face a once over. "Now, I'm not a pro at this stuff like Carly is but I should be able to cover this up. You'll probably have to re-do it every day. When Carly gets home she should be able to teach you 'cause I'm not. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling at the idea of Sam teaching him how to apply make-up.

Sam sat down on the bed next to him and opened the container, "Now hold still Fredward – I'm only doing this once and if you move around it won't be my fault if you happened to get poked in the eye," she warned.

He nodded, knowing her threat was not an exaggeration, and held very still. She opened up the container and stared at it for a little while, trying to think of just how to do this. She slowing began putting on some concealer. He winced at first but then froze after a look from Sam. Sam decided to say something; the silence was making her uncomfortable, "So… You never told me why you got into a fight with Nick in the first place."

Freddie would have frozen if he had not already been holding still. "Um…"

Sam noticed his obvious discomfort with answering the question, causing her to be confused. "Well…?"

"Oh, well, he just said some things…that were…you know…stupid and stuff….and it made me angry. And then he shoved me and I shoved him back and yeah."

Sam raised an eyebrow at his stuttered explanation. "Really? That's the answer you're going with?" Freddie didn't respond. "Come on! What did he say? You hardly ever get mad, well at anyone besides me, and even if you do you aren't the type of person to get in a fight, like at all. So come on, fess up. What did he say?"

Freddie met her eyes and saw that she really wanted to know and she was Sam aka the most stubborn person ever. He sighed. "Well, you know how Nick is, thinks he's the greatest guy ever. And he was being his usual obnoxious self when…"

"When…" Sam encouraged.

"When he started to say some…stuff… about Carly and you," he admitted.

Sam faltered for a second before resuming what she had been doing, "What kinda stuff?"

He went to shrug but managed to remember the no moving rule just in time, "You know, obnoxious stuff.

"I got that" Sam replied, her tone implying she wanted a full explanation.

"He was acting like an ass." She motioned for him to continue, wondering what things he could have said to piss Freddie off so much, "Look, it's no big deal. It's over now anyway. Let's just forget it."

"Benson," Sam said with a serious tone knowing the use of his last name would get his attention. "You got in a fight and it involved me and Carly somehow. And you got into a fight with Nick Pelligrino. This is gonna be all over school by tomorrow. I think you need to tell me what started it all, or else," she added with a slight smile. He smiled slightly back, she was right. How did she always manage to do that?

"Well, he asked if I was friends with you guys and made a comment about hooking up with one of you cuz you're, you know, hot and stuff," he explained. She nodded and continued to fix up the makeup on his face: she was almost done.

Freddie got a distant look in his eyes, remembering what Nick had been saying, fist flexing subconsciously. "He said that like it would happen just because he decided he liked you guys. I hate jerks like that, especially saying that about you guys. And when someone mentioned that you were tough and might not just roll over he acted like it didn't even factor in. Then he said that you just needed to be controlled properly and that he could easily do that." Near the end the words just seemed to rush out, like he couldn't stop himself. He fell silent afterward, realizing what he said and that he hadn't meant to reveal that much.

She took a few seconds to try and get what he was saying, "Wait, I thought he was saying stuff about me and Carly."

"Yeah, well. He did mention Carly but he was mainly talking about you." Freddie admitted.

So, wait. Freddie kicked Nick's ass…for me? "Freddie…" Sam started, leaning away from him, she was done with the makeup but all of a sudden he seemed way too close. "Why…"

He'd been avoiding eye contact since he first started explaining what happened but now he dragged his eyes to her face. He had an intense look in his eyes which seemed darker than normal. "Because…"

He seemed to try to answer her unspoken question on why exactly he got into a fight over her, but couldn't seem to find the right words. Aw, screw it, was the last coherent thought that went through his head as he quickly closed the short gap between them, pressing his lips to hers.

She instantly responded, her hands gripping his jaw before moving across his face and burying into his hair so she could hold his head in place. His own hands didn't remain still as one wound around her waist and the other tangled itself in her hair. She opened her mouth and his tongue snuck in as they began to make out heatedly. Soon, breathing became a necessity and they broke apart, breathing heavily, foreheads touching.

They opened their eyes and Freddie was relieved to see that hers were sparkling mischievously. Despite her positive reaction he had been slightly worried she would be mad. Looking into her eyes, he could see that she wasn't and he smiled causing her to smile back in response.

"Geezz Fredward, what's with you today?" Sam said, smirking.

"I have no idea," he answered, chuckling slightly.

She laughed as well, especially since she noticed that she had smudged the concealer during their kiss. She reached over and grabbed the make up again, "All my hard work, all messed up. You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

He laughed, "And why would you be in a good mood, Princess Puckett?" he asked jokingly.

She snorted, "It certainly has nothing to do with you." She began repairing the damage she had done, "And F.Y.I., I can look out for myself, got it, Benson?"

"Yeah, I know," Freddie acknowledged, before adding quietly, "Doesn't mean you should have to."

She heard it anyway and smiled at him. "Thanks, though," she replied just as quietly.

He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, "No distracting me. I'm not fixing it again."

"Yes, ma'am."

A/N: Well, there you have it. I hope it was okay, the fight scene was diffcult to write and I hope it went over alright. I tried to keep them incharacter but I'm not as confident as I would like in regards to my success. Reviews are very much appreciated - they make my whole day better and help me to improve my writing. they also make me want to write more so if you want more stories - Review!

That's all for now - thanks for reading.