Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly!

Warning: A relationship involving a minor and an adult occurs!

Spam: Don't like, don't read.

"Carls?" Sam grumbled as she laid her arm across the length of Carly's queen size bed.

She could still feel the warmth radiating off the spot where Carly had slept only moments ago. Sam was appreciative of the Shay's hospitality in her time of need. Lately her Mom seemed to be at her worst, drinking almost every night and sleeping with any man within a 5-foot radius. Sam needed an escape and this was the best thing for her.

Sam stumbled out of bed, tripping over take-out food containers and piles of her dirty laundry. She could barely keep her eyes open as she attempted the stairs, even impressing herself when she didn't fall down the two flights ahead of her.

When she finally reached her destination, the kitchen, she was surprised not to find Carly but instead discover Spencer cooking omelets in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt. Sam looked at her own attire and was horrified that she had neglected to put on a bra.

"Hey Spence, what are you doing up so early?" Sam questioned, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

"Uh, its 12 o'clock already sleepyhead," Spencer chuckled, reaching out to poke Sam's bellybutton.

Spencer constantly felt the need to touch Sam. Almost as if he were checking to make sure she was real and not just an illusion. A beautiful goddess sent to tease him with her perfection. Every time he made contact with her in any way she felt an electric shock run though her body and lay dormant in her pelvis.

A flush of color blossomed on the apples of Sam's cheeks, causing her to turn away from Spencer in fear he would notice her weakness for his charm. Sam would admit weakness to no one. Not even Spencer, whom she had grown quite close to over the past few years.

As soon as Sam regained her composure she playfully punched Spencer in the gut and asked, "Where's Carly anyway?"

"Ow! Carly left. She ran out the door this morning mumbling something about how much toilet paper a girl can use in one day. I don't know," Spencer shrugged.

Sam remembered how she had used up the rest of the toilet paper the previous night.

"Oops. Well then what are you waiting for? Make me an omelet stub-rag! I mean you kind of owe me for the eggs I had to make myself yesterday at 4 in the morning,"

"What? Owe you? I don't-,"

A death stare from Sam interrupted Spencer.

"Okay I'll make you eggs," Spencer responded coyly.

"Mama always gets what she wants," Sam joked.

Which was true, she really did know how to get almost anything she wanted. That is except for what she really wanted, what she yearned for the past two years. Spencer. But he was something she just couldn't have, a forbidden fruit. With more than a decade between them and the risk of losing the only true friendship she had, it just couldn't happen. And Sam didn't do well with rejection; she couldn't face telling Spencer how much she cared for him just to have him turn her down. Her only option was to repress her feelings the best she could and hope they would someday subside.

Sam stretched, reaching her arms back as far as they'd allow and tilting her head to the ceiling. Spencer glanced over at Sam's awkward position. However, instead of teasing Sam about her strange mannerisms, all he could do was stare at the way the fabric of her top stretched across her unrestricted breasts as she pushed them forward. He forced himself to shake the thought from his head. After all she was still a kid, even though her physical maturity suggested otherwise. But it was too late, Spencer had already begun to feel heat between his legs and his boxers tighten around his waist. He tried to convince himself that it was the morning and that was the reason for his sudden stiffness, but it was no use. He knew Sam was the cause of his sexual arousal.

Sam noticed Spencer's slip of the eye and commented on it, "Spencer you pig! Were you just looking at my tits?"

"Nooo, nope! Why would I- nope," he stuttered, looking straight down at the cheese he was grating, making sure to avoid eye contact with Sam.

"Oh my god you totally were!" Sam laughed, grabbing Spencer's arms and turning him to face her.

Spencer refused to look up at Sam, embarrassed of how easily she affected him.

"You are such a creep," Sam joked, punching him in the right bicep.

Though deep down, the thought of Spencer ogling her got her excited.

"Owwie!"

"Aw did I hurt da wittle baby?" Sam teased, grabbing Spencer's nose between her index and middle finger then shaking his head back and forth.

"Oh really? Is that's how you wanna play?" Spencer retorted, then begun to chase Sam around the kitchen.

Every time Spencer missed Sam he became more eager to catch her, to feel her smooth skin, to have her in his possession. Sam put up a mighty good fight but Spencer's arms and legs were much longer than hers. With one quick lunge forward he grabbed Sam's arm and pulled her toward him roughly.

"Damn it, you win!" Sam cried in defeat.

Both of them stood there staring at each other, breathing shallow with exhaustion. But Spencer's eyes showed something other than just victory. They showed passion. During the chase Spencer could only think of how much he wanted grab Sam, knock her to the floor and ravage her.

"Okay, you win. You can let go of my wrist now Spencer."

But Spencer wasn't listening to anything Sam was saying. All he could hear was the pounding of his beating heart, as his eyes remained locked on hers. Something overwhelming had taken over him, infecting his body and mind. Spencer grabbed Sam's other wrist and thrust her against the fridge. Before she had the chance to react, he kissed her hard on the mouth. Sam was shocked. Euphoric with pleasure, but shocked as Spencer's tongue passed her lips and passionately caressed her tongue in ways she could never imagine.

Spencer pulled back, raging with desire he took her by the throat. Sam gasped, not out of fear but pleasure. With his had still firmly rapped around her neck, he guided her into the other room and tossed her on the couch. Sam grabbed Spencer shirt and pulled him down on top of her and invaded his mouth with her tongue. Spencer couldn't stop now, even if he wanted to. He sat her up and practically tore her shirt from her body.

He couldn't help but glower at her bare breasts. They were even more perfect than he had fantasized.

"Oh god Sam. You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are right now. I've wanted this for so long. Oh fuck, I want you," Spencer gritted his teeth with restraint.

"Spencer?"

"Uh huh?"

"Shut the hell up and fuck me already!" Sam demanded.

With that statement, Spencer quite literally lost his mind in a frenzy of lust. Removing the rest of her clothes, and his own, in a matter of seconds. All he wanted to do was flip Sam over right then and start pounding her without protection, to feel every bit of her without barricades. But he knew he couldn't do that. He cared for Sam; she wasn't just another notch on his bedpost like the all other women he slept with. So he pulled open the drawer next to him and fished for a condom. Luckily there were still two left.

"Whoa, is that a Magnum?" Sam's jaw dropped in shock when Spencer's hand emerged from the drawer, holding the contraceptive.

Then she took a moment to observe Spencer's crotch with greater detail and was amazed that she had managed to overlook its immense size. She had never been with a guy that big before. The thought of it inside her both aroused and terrified her at the same time.

"Spencer replied smugly, "Why yes it is. You know its tough for us guys with huge-"

"Shh, wait shut up. Did you hear that?" Sam interrupted him with a whisper.

"Hear what? I didn't hear-"

"Just shut the hell up okay!" Sam hissed.

The sound of a jiggling doorknob was magnified in the silence.

"Shit, Carly!" Spencer panicked.

"Fuck! What do I do? What do I do?"

"Uh, just, grab your clothes and run upstairs," Spencer ordered. "Hurry!"

Sam scooped up her clothes with one arm and ran as fast as she could up the stairs while Spencer got dressed with lightning speed. He was pulling his shirt over his head when Carly walked in the door.

"Hey Spence, I think there is something wrong with the door. Every time I-," Carly paused looking up at Spencer, "What were you just doing? And why was your shirt off?"

"Huh? Nothing," Spencer replied nervously.

"Riiiight," Carly said, peering at him suspiciously.

Before Carly could continue to question Spencer, Sam came back down the stairs, hair unkempt but clothed.

"Hey Carly," Sam said, flashing an unnatural smile.

An awkward silence filled the room but was soon broken by Spencer announcement, "I'm gonna go get dressed," followed by him rushing out of the room.

"I'll be on the couch!" Sam added.

Sam plopped down on the Shay's couch. The same couch that her and Spencer were about to have sex on moments before. It seemed surreal. Had she imagined the whole thing? The sweat stain Sam's back left on the seat cushion was the only proof what happened was real. She laid her head down over the evidence, curled into a fetal position, and pulled a blanket over her shoulders. To Carly it appeared as if Sam were merely watching television, though she was really thinking about Spencer.

Before Sam could even get her head straight, she was met with he mumbling of an angry Carly.

"Hey. Sam? Sam?"

"Hey Carls," Sam whined.

"Can you tell me why I found this half eaten tamale in my bed?"

"Cause I left it there," Sam retorted. "Gimme it!"

"My bed is a place for me to sleep. Not a place for your Mexican fiesta platters!"

"Look I hear your frustration-"

Carly cut Sam off, "And look what I found on the stairs and not in the hamper! Someone's little I heart Vegas panties!"

Sam's heart dropped as Carly waved around the underwear Spencer had just recently tore off of her. She must have dropped it on her way up. Luckily Carly was too worked up to question her.

"You know I hate that word!" Sam said.
"PANTIES!"

"AHHH!"

Spencer reentered the room, fully dressed this time.

"Yo, can you guys take the girl fight upstairs? I wanna watch celebrities underwater!"

As Spencer whipped Sam's blanket away from his place on the couch, he noticed the underwear Sam had been wearing was right there in front of him. Puzzled, he threw them on the floor, hoping nobody would notice.

"No, I don't like that show," Carly complained.

"Why?" Spencer questioned.

"Its not fun to watch D-list actors almost drown,"

"Hey. No, no, no, no, no. Why isn't celebrities underwater on my DVR?" Spencer complained.

"I deleted it," Sam replied, matter-of-factly.

"Why would you do that?"

"I don't like the playlist menu cluttered up with a bunch of shows I'm not into,"

"Look, if you want to keep staying here then no more eating ethnic food in my bed!" Carly intervened.

"Yeah, and no deleting my wet celebrities!" Spencer added, throwing the remote on the ground like a child.

"And no more panties on the stairs!" Carly reminded Sam.

"Ah, ah, I don't like that word!"

"Well too bad! Stairs, stairs, stairs!" Spencer teased Sam to change the subject.

"She meant panties," Carly corrected Spencer.

"Now I'm embarrassed!" Spencer replied.

"Well I'm gonna go clean the rest of the tamale leftovers off of my sheets," sighed Carly.

"Wait! Your going to throw away perfectly good tamale?"

"Ew Sam. I am not going to let you eat bed-food,"

"Fine," Sam surrendered.

Carly marched angrily up to her room, leaving Spencer and Sam alone together once again.

As soon as Carly's footsteps had ceased, Sam pulled Spencer back down on top of her and whispered, "Now, where were we?".