A/N: I give you all permission to yell at me, it's been way too long since I last posted a fanfic. The inspiration has been dryer than a raisin in Sudan. But I've found it again, and I seriously like how this one turned out. As for iLY, AFWUJFVSKJDGDNFIDSHGLJBNS! I loved it SOOOO much! Everyone is so depressed about them breaking up, they don't even realize that they are in freaking LOVE! That's waaaay better than just dating! And may I take the time to say that their breakup was very much like a less angsty version of my very first fanfic, yes I am psychic, thank you very much, ahem-hem. I would have posted this fic sooner, but I was still editing it, and still would be, but I wanted to get it up before iQ... so here you go :)

Disclaimer: I may as well own iCarly, since the last scene in iLY went exactly as I would have directed it, but sadly, I don't.

Sam's POV:

The elevator music was broken the day that Freddie and I split up.

On any other given day in the Bushwell complex, a person could spend thirty to sixty seconds of their morning nodding along to the soft lull of jazz, acoustic instrumentals to outdated singles, or, if Lewbert was feeling particularly hateful of the world that day, scratchy renditions of corny 90's sitcom theme music.

Of course, one was never in the elevator long enough to follow a song to completion. A person in Seattle rode the elevator for the single purpose of cutting down on the time it would have taken to climb the stairs, it was hardly a social affair. For a building in one of the West Coast's thriving cities, the residents of Bushwell kept relatively to themselves. It was a rare occurrence to pass a resident in the hallways, and when it did happen, it was often followed by a multitude of shuffling to pass each other without eye contact. Sure, friends would sometimes come to meet there, but neighbors rarely spoke.

So it was really of no surprise to us when Lewbert didn't call up on the elevator intercom to screech about the holdup we were causing. I was able to make out the occasional echo of footsteps from the adjacent stairwell. People would rather walk down than complain. Less confrontation that way.

So without the muted plinking of piano keys as they plucked out the intro to Full House, I was completely aware of the slow rhythm of the breathing matching mine as he held me to him, willing the moment to last as long as we could make it.

The air inside the tiny elevator car had started to become stagnant, heavy and humid and warm from the last hour we had spent inside of it. We knew we would have to leave sooner than later, and face the sympathies of our friends and families and fans, but we didn't want to do any of that just yet. Right now we were perfectly content with staying here in our own little elevator car, breathing in each other's air, and letting the rest of the world maneuver around us down the stairwells.

Somewhere deep in my subconscious, I knew that I shouldn't be feeling this good right now. This wouldn't last. We were on a time limit. He wouldn't be here holding me tomorrow, and I wouldn't be letting him. But the pressure of his arm around my waist was so fulfilling and satisfying, I ignored the rational part of my brain and stopped thinking. Because that nagging part of my subconscious isn't the part that lets me kiss my boyfriend.

I had my arms draped around his neck as far as I could reach, and he had one hand running through the hair at the nape of my neck, while the other was dipped down to almost graze the lip of my back pocket, and we stayed there, hopelessly tangled and content.

If I was feeling particularly melodramatic, I would say that this was to be our last kiss, which felt surprisingly like our first. Not that we were in love back then, no, quite the opposite, but there is intimacy in secrets, and from the start, our relationship has been a spectator sport, two players against a planet of referees. Come to think of it, we dated a month and this was the first kiss we've had in private since. As a girl used to living in front of cameras, I've certainly been missing out on all that goes on behind the scenes.

Freddie tightened his grip for a parting moment, and then we both came up slowly, finding the rush of air that replaced our faces dizzying. The mood had gotten much more solemn as time had passed, too quickly the buzz of "I Love You's" is overcome with the dread of departure.

We stood there panting for a second, just breathing.

"So," he exhaled, "I guess it's time to go now, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, needing to clear my throat a few times, my voice was horribly scratchy, "but you certainly just made it a hell of a lot harder to."

"Hey. This isn't goodbye, it's just us realizing that we're not ready for this yet. We'll still see each other every day at school, and at Carly's."

"Yeah, won't that be awkward."

He chuckled. Adorably.

"Yup. It will." He brought both hands to my waist and gripped me there gently. I lowered my hands back down to his chest, and we caught our breath.

"No regrets though?"

"Not a one," I answered. That made him smile. "I have to warn you though, I fully intend on going back to calling you nerd, dork, tech geek, and all the other variations that I've been holding back for the past month. Calling you 'baby' just wasn't the same."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah, remember?" he grinned, "It'd be too weird if you didn't make my life miserable all the time."

Yes, I remembered, but remembering hurt, and I didn't want to think about it. And about how tomorrow I would try everything within my power to stop myself from remembering how it didn't hurt so much to be standing here, holding him.

"We were kind of mushy, weren't we?"

"Maybe that's why we didn't work out, we tried going against the laws of the universe."

I snorted a bit at that, "Oh please, you loved every second of it."

And again the topic of love hung heavy in the elevator. I had listened to him profess his love for Carly thousands of times before, but I had never felt the sincerity in his voice that backed up those words when he gave them to me.

"I meant what I said before, you know."

"I know. I meant it too."

"Good."

"Good."

"So...I guess we're officially broken up now, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah, we are. So... I guess we should let go of each other then?"

"Oh, right."

The release was freeing and heartbreaking all at once. Without even the elevator music to fill the room, the awkward silence hung thick over us, one of two people who had nothing more to say to each other.

I swallowed my pride and hit the switch on the dash panel. The gears of the lifting mechanism rumbled as they were set in motion, and the doors slid back to reveal a long hallway with two respective doors on each end. There were one or two people on the landing as we got out, but I doubt they even suspected the significance of what had just happened in that elevator as they hurried in, quickly pressed their respective buttons and were gone without even a glance up.

Freddie stood in front of his apartment, and I stood outside of Carly's. He considered something for a moment, and then spoke.

"Do you... want me to come and help tell Carly with you? Or would you rather get it over with by yourself?"

I smiled. "Thanks nub, but I've got this."

A bit of the old light came into his face at the sound of that nickname.

"Suit yourself, demon."

I wrinkled my nose up and reached for the doorknob, but his hand reached out and covered mine before I could turn it. I looked up to see the caring and soft expression that crept onto his face as he slipped his palm into mine for one final moment.

"Just-promise me that one day, when we're ready, if we still feel like we do, we'll try again?"

I pinched the callous of his thumb gently with a forefinger and squeezed his hand.

"Of course, dork. Mama needs a nerd around to write up her papers for her." I stepped inside Carly's doorway, there was no sign of her. She must have been upstairs.

Freddie let go of my hand, "Yeah, yeah, I know, hate you Puckett."

I peeked back out at him. "Love you too."

The doors of both apartments closed at the exact same time. I headed upstairs. I felt weird, like I was too happy to possibly be sad. Like I was left and loved at the same time. Whatever, I needed to find Carly. And probably Spencer and Gibby too. Someone needed to inform the spectators that their show had been canceled.

Sooo...:)

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