Hey hey! Wat goes on fictioneers and fictionistas?

This is a brand new one shot… I figured it was time for a fresh idea. This is what came of it. I present to you 'Two Girls, a Heart, and a Fire Escape". This was written to the tune of 'Come 'Round Soon' by Sara Bareilles.

Please read enjoy and review thank you.

Two Girls, a Heart, and a Fire Escape

Sam rifled through her mother's purse. Searching for that which she wanted… that which she needed… that elusive thing that she craved. She was searching for that thing that she was not supposed to have.

She knew that she wouldn't find it in there. She knew where what she wanted was.

She knew that it would not be found in the bottom of the half empty bottle that sat, glaring menacingly at her mother from its perch on the coffee table. Nor would it be found on the trigger of the lighter that rested in her back pocket. Nor would it be found on the end of the cigarette that was tucked behind her ear, hidden from the world by her blonde curls, and she already found out that it wasn't on the end of the cigarette that hung, alit, between her lips.

She released a sigh of relief when she found her prize. It wasn't what she wanted but it would have to do. That's what she decided long ago. At least, it felt like it was long ago. She took up the habit when he left. She insisted that it was just a coincidence, that she was destined to become a chain smoker… that she may as well get started early. Her friend tried to tell her that it was because he left… she wouldn't hear of it.

She looks into the carton, "Only one left, huh?" she shrugs and heads out of the front door.

She stands on her front porch and takes a drag from her cigarette. Her nerves are calmed, her mind is clearer. The jumbled thoughts of him are pushed aside and to the back of her mind. It makes it worthwhile for her. The blackened lungs, the stained teeth, the burning of her throat, and the taste of ash; it's all worth it.

She doesn't know where she's going to go. She doesn't have anywhere to be, unusual for a Friday night, but it's what she expected. It's just another thing that he took from her when he left. They couldn't do it without him, and she hated him for that. She was never dependant on anyone, and yet somehow he made himself such a big part of her life. There's no way she would voluntarily make him a part of her life so he must've done it without her knowledge. Such an invasion of her psyche; she hated him for that.

It wasn't because she missed him.

She takes another drag from her cigarette, "Who am I kidding?" She shakes her head in disgust at herself, for allowing herself to fall this far. She fell this far because of him, and she hated him for that.

She remembers him telling them that he would be leaving. She quickly starts her walk. She wants to shake that memory… she needs to shake that memory. She doesn't know where she's going. All she knows is that she's very eager to get there… anywhere that doesn't remind her of her past life… of her current life… of her mother… of herself… of him. She hears the thunder and looks up to the sky. She remembers a time when she would do that as soon as she walked outside. She would look at the stars and admire them. Now they're covered by storm clouds. She finds it eerie how appropriate the weather is.

She flicks the cigarette butt onto the sidewalk and makes sure to step on it. She comes across a hobo and hears him ask for some money. She didn't have any to spare and she doubted that she would give him money, even if she had any. In any case, she did feel sorry for him. She didn't know if it was the storm that was approaching or the fact that she felt as if she understood the plight of a hobo. Not so much that she didn't have a home… although with her eighteenth birthday fast approaching, and the fights with her mother becoming more and more intense, that very well may be the case… no she didn't identify because of her home situation, but more so, that she could identify with falling on some hard times due to circumstances… circumstances that you had no control over… circumstances that brought you crashing down from the pedestal that you were, so precariously, perched upon. She shakes her head to rid her mind of those thoughts… they've been coming a lot more frequently.

She figures that the hobo deserves something so she retrieves the cartridge from her pocket and fetches the last cigarette. "You smoke?" she holds out the cigarette for the downtrodden hobo.

She figured that it may not be the ideal item to give to a hobo, but he deserved something… life had beat him down enough. She didn't know if he was really downtrodden but it seemed to be an appropriate description, so she didn't question her assumption. The downtrodden hobo looked at the cigarette. He seemed to be studying it… scrutinizing it… really laboring over his decision.

The hobo spoke up, "You know normally I don't smoke… I remember one time…"

"You want it or not!" Sam really didn't want to get caught in the torrent that was sure to come any moment now.

The hobo hastily grabbed the cigarette. Sam, satisfied with her deed, continued on her trek to… wherever she was going.

She looks around and notices the path she's on. She curses her feet for taking her down this path. She passes the Groovy Smoothie and scowls… almost snarls at the place. Holding so many happy memories… so many false promises of friendship and the occasional reality of heartbreak, the place had quickly and quietly become the bane of her existence.

Despite her loathing of the place, she stares into the window… it's a light crowd due to it almost being closing time. Before she can think about it, her feet start to carry her once again. She's on autopilot as she nears the destination. She gets on the elevator. Pressing the button for the eighth floor; seemingly, by instinct. She hates herself for doing this.

She shakes her head, despondently, at the glass window at the end of the hallway. For all of her loathing of him, she just can't seem to escape him. She chuckles to herself. Of all the places to not be able to escape from; this, definitely, had to be one of the most ironic places. She slides the glass pane and steps out into the balmy Seattle air. She breathes a long forlorn sigh. She tucks her hair behind her ear and plucks the cigarette from its perch. She places the cigarette between her lips and retrieves the lighter from her back pocket.

She looks up at the sky and sees the clouds and can smell the moisture in the air. She knows the rain will be coming any minute. She flicks the lighter once; no spark. Again and again; still nothing. Finally, she gets a light. As she lifts the lighter to her mouth, she hears a voice sound off behind her.

"Freddie would hate that you're doing that." Sam lowers the lighter and rolls her eyes at the familiar voice.

She places her lighter in her back pocket. "And why should I care what Freddie likes or doesn't like?" Sam won't turn around. She couldn't bear to look this person in the eye.

"You're right." That caught Sam's attention. She wasn't used to having people agree with her, "You don't have to care about what Freddie wants," Sam feels a hand on her shoulder, "but you do."

Sam took the cigarette out of her mouth, "No I don't," Sam exclaims, "I don't care about what he wants! I don't have any reason to care," Sam took a deep breath and looked down to the busy street. "If he didn't care enough to stay, then I shouldn't have to care enough to stop doing something just because he doesn't like it,"

Sam's new company stepped up to the railing and looks out over the city, "I don't like that he left either," a despondent sigh escapes her mouth, "but it's something that he said he had to do…" a long silence follows before she spoke again, "and as his mother; I had to let him spread his wings… even if that meant allowing him to fly away."

"I don't get it Mrs. Benson," Sam returns the cigarette to its resting spot behind her ear, "You spent literally, every moment, for as long as I can remember, trying to shield him from the world."

"I don't think I she-"

"Cloud Block?"

"Ok so maybe I was a bit overzealous with my desire to protect him but he was all I had." Sam could only nod, "Besides, I think I'm coping with it quite nicely."

Sam nods again. "Why do you think he left?"

"I think that every once in a while you have to challenge yourself; try to do something that you've never done," Mrs. Benson looked over at Sam who was staring down at the street again. "Do you understand?" Sam heard a tinge of sadness in Mrs. Benson's voice.

"No; I mean yeah I understand but; I guess, what I meant to ask was; Do you think he left to get away… from me?" Sam, absentmindedly, reached up and plucked the cigarette from her ear and held it between her index and middle fingers.

Mrs. Benson pondered the question for a while. The wind picked up and Sam could almost smell the rain that was threatening. The wait for the answer was almost unbearable for Sam. She continued to fiddle with the butt of the cigarette.

"There were many times when Freddie would come home with a complaint about something you had done to him. Taking his books, destroying his cell phones, defacing his laptop, defacing his clothing, defacing his… face," Sam nodded, more to herself than to Mrs. Benson, "But, there were few things that he cared about more than you and Carly."

Sam stared blankly at the unlit cigarette in her hands.

Mrs. Benson, not hearing any response, continued, "As much as I hated to admit it, you girls had become a big part of Freddie's life. I still hate to admit it sometimes but I've come to terms with it."

Sam released a scoff, "I bet you hated that someone like me was in such a huge part of his life."

"At first I did. What else would you expect? He was my only little boy. But as I watched him grow up… and as I watched him turn into the man that he is today, I figured that he could have done a lot worse."

"That was probably more Carly's doing than mine."

The older woman smiled to herself, "True. It was Carly who influenced most of his moral behavior. While he wasn't doing the right thing for the right reasons at first, eventually those actions stuck. But when it comes to matters of self confidence… I believe he owes that all to you." Mrs. Benson chuckled softly, "When his letter from Duke arrived I was so nervous. But he just smiled and told me that if he could take a Sam Puckett punch then he could take a rejection letter from a college he never expected to get into in the first place."

Another silence followed. They were getting more and more comfortable as time passed.

Sam supposed that it was time to get to the root of the matter. At least, it was the root of her matter.

"Do you think he forgot about us?"

"What on Earth would make you think something like that?"

"He hasn't called in a month. Hasn't talked to me or Carly… even Spencer."

"Hmmm… If there's one thing that I know about my Freddie, it's that he treasures everything that is important to him. And there was nothing more important to him than his friendship with you girls." She took in a deep breath and continued, "If he hasn't called you in a month then there's a good reason for it."

Sam tossed a skeptical glance over at Mrs. Benson, "You say that like you know something."

"Hmm." Came Mrs. Benson's simple response.

Sam would've pried into the statement a bit more, but she decided against it. "One more question?" She asked, placing the cigarette behind her ear once again.

"Of course."

"How did you know I'd be out here?"

"I didn't. Freddie wasn't the first person to take refuge on this fire escape. Really is a good place to clear your head."

Mrs. Benson looked to the sky and saw that gray tinge to the sky. "We should be heading inside soon, dear. It'll be raining soon." Mrs. Benson stepped back inside the apartment complex.

Sam nodded and began to make her way to the stairs of the fire escape, "and just where do you think you're going, young lady?" Mrs. Benson chided, in a motherly tone, "I'm not letting you walk anywhere in this storm."

"It'll be fine Mrs. Benson. It's been threatening for hours. I'm sure that I'll be home bef-"

Before she could finish her sentence the downpour had started. Sam didn't utter another word as she stepped inside the building.

"You can stay with me until the storm lets up and if it gets too late I'll call your mother and tell her that you'll be staying with me."

Sam just nodded. A lifetime of experience had told her that, when it came to matters of safety, it was pointless to argue with Mrs. Benson.

They made their way down the hall to the Benson's apartment. Sam spared a glance at the door across the hall which used to be her home away from home. She started to smile, but was quickly ushered inside of the Benson home, being bombarded with instructions.

"Ok, I want you to hurry to the bathroom and get out of those wet clothes. You can take a shower in there to get rid of that terrible smoky smell. I'll bring you something you can change into while I take your clothes down to the laundry room to wash them. I suppose I can let you sleep in Freddie's room, I'll make the bed while you're in the shower." Sam just stared at Mrs. Benson with a dumbfounded expression, "Go on. Hurry up and get out of those clothes before you catch cold."

Sam, once again, entertained the idea of telling Mrs. Benson that she'd be fine and leaving the apartment. But she looked around the apartment. It seemed big. She couldn't imagine how big it must feel with nobody there… How empty it must be… How lonely it must get. Sam figured that Mrs. Benson more for her own benefit than anything else. The silence was pressing on Sam and she had only been here a few minutes. She could only imagine living in this place 24/7. Certainly she could throw Mrs. Benson a bone… just this once.

Sam turned around to face Mrs. Benson, "Thanks." And with that she made her way to the bathroom.

Once she had finished her shower she had found that Mrs. Benson had brought her one of her nightgowns. She cringed at it but put it on anyway. It was better than walking around naked… barely. She got to Freddie's room and found his bed made. She looked around Freddie's room… it had barely changed. Though, she figured that not much should've changed in ten months. This made even more sense, considering the fact that he wasn't there for nine of those months. She walked over to Freddie's drawer and started to look through them.

"Nope," she said to herself as she opened and closed the top drawer, "No," she said as she closed the second drawer, "Bingo," She pulls a pair of sweat pants out of his drawer and puts them on, pulling the drawstring as tight as she could. "That's much better." She rummaged further to find an old T-shirt. She put it on and walked over to the bed.

She got in and pulled the sheets up to her neck. She slowly drifted to sleep.

Her sleep was mostly peaceful, though at one point she swore she could feel the bed move. Fighting the urge to sit up and yell at whoever was disturbing her, she stayed asleep figuring that it was just Mrs. Benson doing… Mrs. Benson things. Annoying, but entirely harmless. She also heard a couple of bumps and swore that upon hearing the third she'd wake up and beat the tar out of whoever had the audacity not to know that she was sleeping. No third bump came and she slept on.

She opened her eyes once… she thinks. She's not sure because she could swear that she saw Freddie sitting at his desk. Being too far into sleep to be concerned with it, her mind worked up the easiest way that would allow her to stay in bed. Must've been a dream. Yep, that'll do.

But, eventually, all good things must come to an end. What had been one of the better night's sleep that she'd ever had, degenerated to fits of tossing and turning. Her body was telling her that it was, indeed, time to get up.

But, being Sam, she fought it.

Tossing and turning.

Tossing

Turning

Tossing

Turn-

"You know, " her eyes shot open, "Usually, when you toss and turn like that, it means that its time to get up."

She shot up into a sitting position and turned to look at the desk and saw a head of brown hair which sat upon a long neck which, in turn, sat upon a set of broad shoulders.

"Freddie?"

He turned around, confirming her suspicions, "Rise and shine, sleepy head."

She looked around the room and saw all of his suitcases, "Isn't that a lot of luggage for a summer."

Freddie looked at the same luggage, "You're right," he smiled at Sam, "It is."

She walked over and stared at him. She figured that the last twenty four hours had been so weird, with the talk fire escape talk, and actually listening to Mrs. Benson, and sleeping in Freddie's bed, she figured that one more, weird, thing wouldn't hurt. She wrapped him a hugged.

Not too tight, of course. That would reek of desperation. No, she tried to convey just the right amount of happiness.

He, hesitantly, hugged her back.

Now satisfied, she released the uh and took a step back. Enough with all of this weirdness. She cocked a fist back and hit him solidly on the shoulder.

"Ah… What was that for?"

"That was for not talkin to us for a month." She glared at him

He just laughed and pulled her into another hug, "I missed you too."

Despite herself, she snaked her arms around him as she began to laugh along with him.

And there they stood, hugging and laughing, until Mrs. Benson came in and promptly freaked out at the very thought of what may have been about to happen.

There ya have it.

Thanks for reading my humble little fic. I know that it may have gotten a bit mushy and clichéd towards the end but I figured that since it was a one shot it wouldn't be too unbearable. Plus… a little mush and clichés never hurt anybody. But I would still like to know what you guys think so give that review button a click and tell me wat's on your mind.

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Well that wraps it up for me,
Until Next time
Deuces
KL21