Too little, too late.

A story that I worked on for Valentine's Day, but I missed that too.

Disclaimer: The usual.

Please be on the look out for grammar or spelling. I am not a good proof reader at all. Never hire me.

Lately, it seemed there was a lot that was right with the world. Freddie was by no means an optimist. He could be down in the dumps with the rest of them. But when he took an objective look at the world around him, he found that there weren't many things he could complain about.

For example, he was currently seated at his desk playing a computer game. It was one of those mind-numbingly addictive puzzle games, the ones that were easy to understand yet too difficult to solve. And though the game had already taken all too much of his time, he wasn't about put it down. It was fun. The challenge was a part of the game.

He really couldn't think of anything else he'd rather be doing at the moment.

Earlier his mother had come in to check up on him. Freddie hadn't noticed her until she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. Of course, he'd been slightly annoyed that she scared him, but she was just worried he had gotten sick from sitting in his room for too long. Which didn't make sense, but she was his mother and she worried about him enough to make sure he hadn't died in the last 5 hours. Also, she had brought a bowl of tomato soup, lukewarm so he wouldn't burn his mouth.

Really, he couldn't gripe about his mother when he knew he was lucky to have one that cared.

As he finally beat level 74, Freddie thought about the big report he had to give about T.S. Eliot. Through the dim confines of his room, he could see the outline of the massive book of early 20th century poetry on his bedside table. It promised to be a tedious assignment, one that should take longer than a week. But that was all he was given. Still, it was all alright. Freddie didn't like to brag but he had to admit he was damn smart and could tear through any assignment the teachers dared to give him.

He'd finish the report in 3 days. No problem and nothing to worry about. School was a delicious slice of chocolate cake, moist and rich.

Freddie loved Seattle. Sure, it rained more than necessary and for a supposedly typical city it was a mecca for the strange and improbable. Yet, he felt like he could live here the rest of his life. He didn't want to, seeing as his dream job was developing for Pear Inc. which was located in California. He just felt like if he had no choice it wouldn't be that bad to stick around. Freddie was also pretty sure there was no other Groovy Smoothie in the world and that made Seattle the place to be.

He clicked his way through the last tidbits of level 78, the white boxes on the screen meshing together and disintegrating in a mass of fluttering confetti.

Everything was great.

Of course, if he had to point it out, there were a few things that could change. It was impossible for the world to be perfect and by definition, there had to be a few things wrong with it. The clear example would be—

"Up and at 'em, Freddie-boy! We gots ourselves a beautiful day outside."

Sam burst into his room, somehow slipping in as the door rebounded against the wall and slammed shut again. Before he could say anything, she was at his window. In one smooth movement, she pulled up the blinds and let in the harsh, bright sunlight. It stung his eyes which had been soaking in the darkness for hours.

"Damn it, Sam! The blinds! Close the blinds!"

Never mind how she got in here in the first place, he just wanted the dark sanctity of his room to be restored.

"Like hell I will," she said, now jumping on his bed and ruining his carefully ironed sheets, "You've been cooped up in here too long. It's a wonder why your skin hasn't turned albino."

She stopped jumping and peered at him in mock worry.

"I'm pretty sure your eyelids have evolved away like one of those weird, scaly, crawly things in that one cave animal documentary we saw."

"Um, yeah, gross," Freddie shuffled across his room on his wheeled desk chair to shut out the accursed daylight. "I've been trying to forget that movie, but thanks for bringing it up again."

"No prob. I aim to please. Anyways," Sam continued as her short attention span quickly switched to another topic, "get up and let's go. There's something that needs to be done."

He looked at her questioningly, waiting for her to elaborate. She stared back with an equally confused expression as though she couldn't figure out why he needed to know what he was doing before he did it.

"What? Stop staring at me, you freak."

"What needs to be done?"

She shrugged. "Something important."

Her vague statement did little to dispel the rapidly growing apprehension he felt with every passing moment of her presence in his room. As usual, it was better to ignore these things and stick with the sanest option of doing whatever the hell he had been doing before she had interrupted.

"Right. Something important. Well, I'll let you get on with that," he said, returning to his computer screen. "Have fun, okay?"

Freddie should have been worried when there was no response, but he was already too engaged in his game to notice. Of course, he couldn't help but notice a few seconds later when, right in the middle of his attempt at level 79, the screen went black and he was staring at nothing but his stupefied reflection.

He slowly swiveled in his chair to find Sam holding the electrical plug with a serious expression on her face.

"Important."

He looked forlornly at what should have been a triumphant victory over an impossible game and nodded.

"I guess I have nothing else to do."

A few minutes later they were outside. Freddie took a couple breaths of fresh air, a strange intoxicating mixture of oxygen and city fumes that differed greatly from the stale, uncirculated air of his apartment. There weren't any clouds in deep blue sky, letting the sun beam down with all its might and burn at his eyes. His hand was halfway up to his face before he foolishly realized what he was doing.

Sam smirked gleefully.

"Making sure your eyelids are still there?"

Freddie lowered his hand embarrassedly and mumbled, "What are we doing again?"

"Something imp—"

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted, "But what is it?"

Ignoring him completely, she tilted her head back and gazed at the sky.

"No clouds today."

She gave him a sideways glance and promptly headed off down the sidewalk. Freddie sighed inwardly. It was times like these that he questioned where the line between sanity and insanity was drawn because he must have crossed it a dozen times or so during their various misadventures. Right now, he was faced with the decision to follow or not and, as he resigned himself to falling into step beside the unpredictable blonde girl, he couldn't help but wonder if he had already lost his freaking mind.

"So where's Carly?"

The third member of their trio wasn't around, something highly unusual when concerning Sam.

"She's doing some homework or something," Sam scoffed indignantly, "Imagine that. Doing school work on a Saturday."

She held up a fist and shook it in the air, glaring at the sky.

"To what depths will humanity sink?" She shouted, drawing the attention of a few amused passersby. Freddie groaned to himself and reached over to pull down her threatening fist. He was already beginning to regret coming along with her. Sam seemed to be unaffected by the stares, acting as though her little outburst never happened. "I would die before giving up my weekend to those oppressive taskmasters they call teachers."

Freddie half agreed with her, though he figured his solution for not doing homework on the weekend differed from hers. Where she was a lazy slacker and would not do the work at all, he managed to finish his homework on last night after iCarly in order to free some time for himself.

Speaking of which...

"Where are we going, Sam?" he asked, "You have to tell me something or else I'm turning back."

Sam gave him a mysterious smile.

"We're running an errand," she said simply.

"Errand? Then why do you need me?"

"I don't need you, but—" she paused to hop over a wide crack in the pavement, "let's just say it would be in your best interests to come with me."

Best interests? Since when has she cared about his best interests? She must have seen the doubt on his face because she attempted to fix her expression into a scandalized look. She failed miserably, but he had to give her credit for trying.

"What? You don't trust me? Me? Sam Puckett, your best friend, ex-girlfriend, and all around good person?"

He snorted in amusement. "I'll give you two out of three on that one. But no. Not particularly."

That wasn't really the truth. When it came down to it, Freddie would trust Sam with his life. He knew that in the end, she would always do the right thing regardless of the choices presented. He couldn't guarantee that she'd do the right thing in the beginning or in the middle, but in the end for sure.

Of course, he couldn't tell her that.

"Well, you're just gonna have to," she said like it settled the matter.

They ended up in front of a Mall-mart.

"Mall-mart?" They walked through the sliding doors into the cool, air-conditioned interior. "What do you have to buy here?"

"You'll know when you buy it, Fredward," Sam called over her shoulder. She disappeared among the aisles as Freddie realized she said 'you'. He sighed and took out his wallet. What a bad day to be him. Since Sam was nowhere to be found, he hung out in the electronics section, content to let her find him when she was done. She was the one who ran off without notice so she should be the one looking.

"Hey!" Sam shouted in his ear, "I'm done."

He nearly dropped the GPS receiver he was holding, fumbling with the package for a few seconds before placing it carefully back on the shelf.

He turned to her.

"How'd you find me so fast? You've been gone for like 5 minutes."

"I already knew what I was going to get. And where else would you be in this store? With the sports equipment?"

Laughing in his face, she shoved a bunch of items into his arms: a blanket, a bottle of blue energy drink, a book titled Latin for the Less Informed (2nd edition), and a Goobix cube. For such an innocent and slightly random assortment of objects, they gave off a sinister vibe that spoke of evil to come. Freddie decided not to ask the obvious, accepting the items without question. He could claim ignorance when whatever bad will happen happens.

At the register, the grand total amounted to $17 of his hard earned cash. They left the store with Freddie holding the bags. Sam reached into one and grabbed the energy drink. She drained half of it in one swig and handed the rest to him.

"Drink up," she advised, "You'll need some energy."

Slightly touched that she thought of him for once, he drank the sugary, chemical filled water that they passed off for electrolytes these days. It tasted sharp and tangy, like raspberries, and stung as it went down his throat. There was also a little minty flavor that he knew was the flavor of Sam's toothpaste. A not too delightful combination if you asked him.

He threw the empty bottle into the nearest trash can, aware that he should have recycled, but not bothering to search for a recycling bin. He had more pressing matters on his mind.

"So where to now?"

"We're going to visit my uncle." Then she added a bit unnecessarily, "The one in jail."

"I wasn't aware you had any uncles outside of jail. Is it Carmine?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna have you sit this one out though. We wouldn't want a repeat of last time."

Freddie remembered his first and only ill-fated visit to Carmine. He ended up being accosted by guards and unceremoniously thrown out on his behind followed by a fuming Sam. That little episode eventually contributed to the final break-up of their relationship. He still felt sore about the whole ordeal as he really did care for her, but he knew it worked out for the best anyways.

So they walked, the unpleasant downside of not owning a car. Thanks to some city planner with either a terrible sense of humor or an extreme lack of foresight, the penitentiary was near the middle of Seattle. God forbid a mass breakout otherwise the property market would collapse along with the properties themselves. And since the middle of Seattle was quite a few blocks removed from where they were now, the walk took the better part of an hour.

When they finally arrived at the hulking concrete rectangle, Sam told him, "Wait here. And don't leave."

She took the book of Latin from the Mall-mart bag and disappeared through the heavy doors of the jail, leaving him to stand outside in the sun. It was still a nice day though the afternoon heat was getting a bit uncomfortable. There was no significant shade around so Freddie tried to squeeze as much of himself as possible underneath the paltry shadow of the security camera. As he waited for Sam, he thought about what she might be doing. The book of Latin was a strange enough object to bring into a jail. And he was still holding the blanket and the Goobix cube. What could she be planning? An elaborate heist? An act of arson? Or maybe she just wanted to buy things to confuse him. Whatever the case, something big was going to happen and he was going to be right in the middle of it.

A loud crash scattered his thoughts. It was the sound of Sam coming back through the door. She didn't have the book with her so she must have gotten it confiscated or something.

"Hey," she said when she caught sight of him, "let's roll. We've got a lot to do."

They resumed their walk, Freddie following half a step behind.

Curiosity won out so he asked, "Where's the book?"

"I gave it to Uncle Carmine," she answered.

"...Why?" He continued when she didn't care to elaborate.

Sam looked at him strangely. "Uh, because he wanted to learn Latin..."

"Oh...okay then. I guess that makes enough sense."

It didn't.

But he was still alive and that was all that mattered. He then noticed the slip of paper clutched in Sam's hand.

"What's that?"

Sam gave a start and quickly glanced around before following his gaze.

"It's a piece of paper, silly!" She ruffled his hair condescendingly like he was a little kid.

Right. No more questions. Freddie was getting more and more used to this game. He looped his arms through the bags and stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunkering down for another long trip. Surprisingly, they had only traveled a few blocks when Sam came to a sudden stop in front of an apartment building. She glanced down at the scrap of paper then up at the building. Meadowlark Apartments was printed in big block letters next to the heavy wooden doors. It wasn't anything fancy, but it wasn't seedy looking either. It just seemed plain with its drab brown exterior and small, regularly spaced windows.

"We're here."

"This is it?"

"No, this isn't it. Only part of it."

"Should I sit this one out too?" He tried to keep the hope out of his voice.

"Actually, I'm going to need you in this one," she said, strolling to the barred doorway, "And don't you ever repeat that to anyone."

She scanned the rows of buttons, pressing 10H when she got near the bottom. A buzzing sound came from the speaker that was situated at head height for a normal person. Sam had to stand on her toes.

"I'm here for Carmine. I've got business."

Apparently, that was enough because the door clicked and Sam was able to open it to walk through, motioning for Freddie to hurry up. Inside, the hallway was as plain as the outside. The same boring color, same ordered regularity. The only difference was that it smelled like pizza. Someone must have ordered out.

The elevator was across from the doors. It opened up almost immediately after Sam pushed the button. They got inside and Freddie pressed the little glowing number 10. On the way up, Sam reached into a bag and took out the Goobix cube. The plastic packaging, which he would have wrestled with for at least 5 minutes, was easily ripped apart to extract the multicolored cube within. He watched as Sam examined it, turning it this way and that.

"How fast can you solve one of these?" She asked after her investigation.

He shrugged. "I dunno like half a minute. I haven't practiced in a while."

She gave the cube a few experimental twists. "Hmm. I guess that's okay."

A ding signaled their arrival on the 10th floor. The H apartment was at the very end of the hall, surrounded by decorative plastic foliage. Freddie suddenly felt nervous. This was the first time he'd been involved in mob business after all and though the setting was innocent enough, he knew he person living here could be anything but.

Sam knocked on the door. It opened seconds later to reveal a middle aged man in a sharp business suit. He was clean shaven and his hair cut short. He wore a nice, easy smile like a salesman. If he was surprised about two teenagers showing up to conduct mob business then he must have had one hell of a poker face.

"You here to pick up the tickets?" He asked in a hearty voice.

"Yep," Sam replied.

The man nodded and let them in. The apartment was a lot different from what Freddie had seen so far. It was very modern including weird shaped chairs and glass surfaces galore. From one of these surfaces— a low coffee table— the man picked up a Ziptop plastic bag containing two tickets, the kind for a concert or a movie.

"You have money?"

Freddie gulped. That couldn't be good, could it? He knew Sam didn't have any money and he definitely wouldn't have enough after Sam cleaned him out at Mall-mart.

"No," Sam said bluntly.

The man laughed. "Then I'm sorry, but these ain't free."

Sam tugged Freddie's arm to bring him closer.

"I heard you like puzzles," she said.

The man grinned. "Yeah, I do. What of it?"

She held up the Goobix cube and Freddie suddenly saw where this was headed.

"How about we make a bet?"

"What kind of bet?"

"I bet that this kid here," she shook him back and forth, "can solve this thing faster than you can."

The man nodded thoughtfully. "So you get the tickets if you win. What do I get?"

"We'll pay you double later."

Freddie didn't like that "we" that Sam managed to slip in there. He prayed that the man wasn't stupid enough to make a deal based on a kids' toy.

"Deal. But I get to go first." The man shook Sam's hand and took off his watch. "You can use this as a timer."

Sam took the watch and handed the cube to Freddie. "Scramble it."

"Don't let me see," the man suggested helpfully.

Freddie turned his back on both of them. He better make sure the cube was as scrambled as possible. He twisted it haphazardly for a minute until he was satisfied that the colored squares were as random as possible. He gave the Goobix cube to the man who held it with the tips of his fingers.

Sam raised the watch. "Go."

He was fast, faster than Freddie expected. The man turned the sides with the ease and grace of a natural. By no means was the man a pro, but he was close. In only a short amount of time, the man slid the last side into place and held out the cube.

"Done."

"27.9 seconds," Sam announced. "Nice."

Nice? Didn't that mean they would have to pay double? Sam didn't look worried at all. Freddie groaned. If only he could have as much confidence in himself as she did, then maybe they had a chance. As he told her earlier, he could consistently solve a Goobix cube in about half a minute. However, he hadn't even touched a Goobix cube in 5 years let alone solved one.

The man wasted no time in giving him a scrambled cube.

"Good luck, kid. I hope you give me a good game."

What a nice guy.

"Go."

Freddie didn't know he had it in him. His mind worked all on its own, falling into the familiar pattern recognition algorithms and corresponding movements. His hands blurred and he could barely see what he was doing. But he was doing it, that much he understood. Turn this there, twist that here, how much time had it been?

17.4 seconds.

He stared stunned at the completed cube in his hands, breathing heavily from the adrenaline.

The man whistled. "Wow, that was damn fast, kid. Amazing."

Sam cleared her throat and held out an expectant hand. The man gave her the bag with the tickets. He didn't seem too disappointed in losing. In fact, he congratulated Freddie with a slap on the back and a "you earned it."

All in all, Freddie's first mob deal was a great, inspirational experience.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Sam grabbed him by the shoulders and began jumping up and down, shouting.

"Oh my god, Freddie, you were so awesome! You scared me for a second when you didn't talk or anything. And he scared me when he did it so fast. I didn't know you had it in you."

She began punching his arm repeatedly, feinting this way and that, like she was shadow boxing.

"Wait, you were going to risk paying double? Even when you were scared I was going to lose?"

She paused in her assault.

"Yeah, pretty much."

He let out a deep breath.

"Oh. Okay. Never do that again, alright?"

Sam waved the comment off.

"Whatever," she held up the tickets, "because we've got these babies!"

"And what are 'those babies'?"

"Now we only one more stop before we're done," she said, ignoring his question yet again. They stepped out of the elevator and crossed the hallway to the front door. "What time is it?"

"4:55."

"Then we have 15 minutes," she told him right as she broke into a sprint.

Freddie didn't have anything to carry except the blanket, but he still couldn't catch up to Sam. He had never beaten her in a race. Maybe he finally beat her at arm wrestling a couple months back, but speed was still her forte. She also had ridiculous stamina made evident for the next few minutes as she kept at top speed while Freddie fell farther and farther behind. He was wheezing, his legs were on fire, and he was pretty sure he ran past a few cute girls without even looking.

The things he did for Sam made him sick.

He saw the blonde speck in the distance come to a stop and begin to jump, waving her arms like a maniac. As he came closer, he could hear her shouting something.

"FREDDIE! Hurry up! You can do it! I believe in you!"

He would like to think this wasn't the reason he ran harder than ever, but his mother raised him to never lie, especially to himself.

"You dork," were the first words she said to him when he finally reached her. She was standing next to a bus, a Greydog charter. Where they were going was too far for walking it seemed. "Come on, up you go."

Sam took his hand and pulled him up the steps into the bus.

Everyone aboard cheered. Was there any place they went where they wouldn't attract attention?

The bus driver checked his watch. "Just in time, son. 5:10 on the dot. Let's get this show on the road."

They took seats near the front and settled in for the ride ahead. Sam naturally took the window seat and, as the bus started to roll and the buildings flashed by, Freddie turned to see her staring out up at the sky.

"So...you believe in me?"

He saw her eyes roll in the window reflection.

"Shut up. I was just trying to make you run faster. Don't make it such a big deal."

"It kind of is a big deal."

"No. It isn't. Now be a good Freddie and take a nap or else you'll miss everything."

He smiled and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the soft headrest. But just as he was about to slip into a much needed sleep, he heard Sam mutter softly.

"But you know I always have, right?"

"Of course."

He woke to an insistent nudging. And by nudging he meant someone was prodding him painfully in the side of the head. He swiftly narrowed his suspects down to Sam. Lo and behold, when he cracked his eyes open, there she was with a smirk on her face.

"Did anyone ever tell you how ugly you look when you sleep?"

"Yes. You. Many times."

"Oh. Then don't forget it. Now get up so we can get off this thing. And don't forget the blanket."

Due to Sam's impatience, they more or less tumbled out of the bus, somehow miraculously landing on their feet. Freddie looked around. It was Greydog station and they were at a drop-off lit by bright fluorescent lights. The sky had fallen dark in the time it had taken to get here.

"Hey, Sam, where are we?"

"Olympia."

Freddie fought down the worry that rose in his throat.

"Olympia? What are we doing here?"

"Well, since you've been so helpful, I'll tell you." She leaned in close to his face and he couldn't help but also lean in to hear her whisper, "We're going to pick up a penny."

Freddie pinched the bridge of his nose. "In retrospect, I'd rather you not say anything."

His reaction was short lived because Sam managed to wave down cab and shoved him into it. She dug around in her pocket, coming out with another slip of paper, this one showing more wear and tear than the other.

"Go here," she ordered the cab driver, handing him the paper.

"Um, Sam, you do realize we have to pay for a cab, right?" Freddie pointed out.

"I'll pay for it. I paid for the bus, didn't I?"

First, Freddie was floored that she was going to pay for him instead of the other way around. Then he remembered the bus ride and how he had gotten on and taken a seat without a ticket. She must have paid for that while he was trying to catch up. That made two things she paid for in one day.

"Wow, Sam, you're really turning over a new leaf."

"Shut up, Benson."

Their destination was a two story house in suburbia. It was a two-and-a-half kids, dog, and white picket fence house. All the lights were on so there was no question of whether anyone was home.

"Wait for us," Sam told the cab driver.

They got out of the cab and walked up the smooth path. The porch light was motion activated; it turned on as soon as they set foot on the wooden steps leading to the door. The typical chime played when Freddie rang the doorbell. From inside came the sound of little running feet and a shouting woman.

The door swung open to a disheveled looking woman holding a happily giggling toddler in her arms. Unlike the mobster earlier, she looked surprised to see two teenagers on her doorstep, though for the wrong reason.

"Sam! You got the tickets?"

Sam waved the bag in the woman's face.

"I told I would."

"Thank you so much," the woman gushed, "I don't know what I would have done if Jamesie here didn't get to see the Woogles the one time they come to Washington. He is absolutely addicted to that show."

"Rehab works wonders, Mrs. Anderson," Sam quipped. "But we're kind of in a rush so..."

"Oh yes! Your payment. I'll be right back."

Mrs. Anderson disappeared into the confines of her home.

"Let me guess. The payment is a penny."

Sam wagged her finger at him. "Not just any penny."

"A valuable penny?"

"Very. Mrs. Anderson's dad used to collect them before he died."

Freddie scratched his head. "So she's trading a coin from her dead dad's collection for concert tickets?"

She frowned. "Hey, not just any tickets. Sold out concert tickets. As in sold out the day they went for sale two months ago. You couldn't even find these on the black market."

"So how did, uh, Mr. Puzzle get them?"

Sam winked. "The even blacker market."

Mrs. Anderson returned with what looked like a ring box.

"Here, Sam," she said, opening up the box, "An 1856 Flying Eagle Cent as promised."

The penny screamed old. It was dull and brownish though still had a slight metallic sheen. The words United States of America were stamped along the top, right above an eagle with its wings spread mid-flight. Underneath was a small 1856 in case anyone had any doubts as to the coin's chronological origins.

"And here are the tickets."

"Thank you again, Sam. You're a real lifesaver."

"Eh, don't mention it. Say bye to the nice lady, Fredward."

"Um, bye."

With that they left the mother and son in the doorway and returned to the idling cab. The driver was quick and efficient in getting them back to the Greydog station, alleviating some of the panic that Freddie was starting to feel. He had been playing computer games in his room and now he was in Olympia with Sam and a blanket he'd been carrying for hours. The sooner he got home the better.

A different bus driver drove this time. Freddie didn't sleep. He spent most of the ride staring at Sam who was again gazing towards the sky. What is this all about? Randomly showing up in his room and then dragging him about for a day. She told him next to nothing about her plans yet he still followed due to a mix of fear, attraction, curiosity, and acceptance of fate.

The trip back to Seattle seemed to take no time at all. He and Sam wound up on the city streets of downtown Seattle. He knew it wasn't over yet. Unless Sam had suddenly developed a hobby of coin collecting, that penny was just another part of the scavenger hunt.

"Are we almost done?"

"Do you know where Columbia Center is?" She asked. The wind blew, throwing her hair about in a frenzy. They should have brought jackets. But it was too late for that now.

"Yeah, it's a couple blocks from here isn't it?"

"Do you know what's so special about it?"

"Um, it's a skyscraper filled with a bunch of rich businesses."

"It's the tallest building in Washington. Jeez. I thought you were smart."

He knew she was just teasing him, but he still felt annoyed. He should have known that fact.

"Are we going there?"

"No. We're already here."

Freddie looked up and, true enough, the Columbia Center stretched up high into the inky black. He couldn't see the top no matter how much he craned his neck.

"Damn, that is tall."

"Yep. Now let's get inside. I didn't come all this way just to stand here and point out how tall everything is."

They walked through the revolving doors into the warmth and light of the massive business building. Despite the lateness of the hour, there were still many people in suits rushing around. The two brightly dressed teens stuck out like clownfish among anchovies.

"Hurry before someone notices."

Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him across the atrium, down a short hallway, and stopped in front of a door. Maintenance. There was a keypad above the handle, but this didn't prove to be a problem. Freddie watched as she pressed the numbers rapidly in a sequence she had memorized. A small beep let them through into a room filled with lockers, tools, and supplies. It was a big room, at least 4 times bigger than his room at home. He figured that such a large building needed a lot of upkeep. Again, seeming like she knew exactly what she was doing, she lead him through the maze of lockers and shelves to a desk, behind which sat a gruff looking man in a maintenance uniform.

"Hey, Tom. Guess what I have in my hand."

Tom glanced up.

"Sam?"

How did all these random people know her name?

They approached the desk.

"Go on. Guess!"

"I dunno," Tom rubbed his chin, "A ham sandwich."

Freddie laughed inwardly. Knowing Sam, he would have guessed the same thing.

"No," she said, slapping the little ring box down on the table. "A penny."

Tom's eyes widened comically. "No...No way..."

He gingerly picked up the box and eased it open.

"Jesus Christ," he said breathlessly, "You actually did it. You actually got an 1856 Flying Eagle Cent."

"Don't ask me how I got it. It'd be too long of a story."

Freddie nodded in agreement. Too long.

Tom closed the box and stood up, brushing his dark hair back with a massive hand.

"Well, I guess I owe you an elevator ride then."

He pushed his chair back and jerked his head sideways.

"Come on, the maintenance elevator is over there."

The maintenance elevator was exactly that. It was a big elevator used for getting technicians, janitors, and other personnel and their tools up and down the floors. It was for authorized use only. Freddie knew this because when they got inside, Tom had to insert an identification card in a slot above the buttons.

Then he pressed the very last button.

Roof.

Along the way, Tom battered them with information about the Flying Eagle Cent. Freddie learned it wasn't actually regular issue but rather a pattern coin. And that approximately 700 pieces were produced for distribution to members of the Congress and Senate to show the proposed design and format. The Mint later produced approximately 1,500 restrikes in proof format for collectors during 1857 and 1858.

Needless to say, Sam grew bored and fidgety while Freddie zoned out.

"Here we are."

The elevator doors opened. The roof was cold and windy. The ground was covered with a layer of gravel and there were air ducts and electrical boxes of every size.

He and Sam stepped out onto the crunchy gravel, but Tom did not.

"Have fun, kids," he said as the doors slid closed.

Freddie was certain that the average responsible adult would not leave a teenage boy and a teenage girl alone in the middle of the night on the roof of an 80 story skyscraper. And tell them to have fun.

Sam, ever determined to test Freddie's stress handling abilities, wandered close to the edge.

"Sam...please get away from there."

She pretended to think about it for a moment. "Nah. Come here, this is awesome!"

Freddie sighed. If she didn't want to back away from the edge, then he would feel a lot better if he was there with her in case she tried anything foolish. He cautiously inched his way up next to her.

Awesome was an understatement.

The lights of Seattle stretched away from them like a field of stars that decided they were too lazy to float in the sky. Along the streets, rivers of cars moved like ants, no, even smaller than ants. It was so high up, foreign territory belonging solely to the air and the birds. He had the sense of flight like the eagle on the coin with the world spread below him. And there was Bushwell Plaza way over there where his mother was certainly worrying her hair right out of her head.

"What are we doing up here anyways?"

Sam grinned and ran to the empty space in the center of the roof.

"Do you know what is great about high places like this?" She took the blanket from him and suddenly his arms were empty. "They're closer to the sky."

She spread the blanket out on the ground and plopped herself down, lying out on her back.

"And when you're closer to the sky, you have a great view of everything in it. What time is it?"

"8:24."

"2 minutes. Lay down, Freddie."

He lay next to her, her minty breath finding its way over into his face. It was a little awkward. The last time their faces had been this close was back when they were still making out. Was this what she was planning? All this just to get back together?

Somehow he doubted it. That was something Sam would just say out right.

"What time is it?"

"8:25."

"Seconds?"

"48."

"Whatever you do, don't close your eyes."

He stared up at the stars dotting the sky, millions of tiny pinpricks of light. Sam was right. Everything was clearer up here.

Then the stars started to move.

A meteor shower...

"And there it is," she whispered.

Freddie had never seen a meteor shower before. He quickly decided he'd been missing out on one of life's great joys. Dozens of bright lights streaked across a black canvas, painting a monochromic work of art. It was like a fireworks show except on a cosmic scale and capable of making you feel both insignificant and special at the same time. Each white spot grew a long tail and soared in celebration of what, he didn't know and he didn't care. They watched as the last few meteors disappeared back into the void.

"Wow. I wasn't expecting that," he breathed.

Sam shrugged. "I saw it in a newspaper a couple days ago. Figured you'd like it."

"Why would you do this...everything...for me?"

"Eh, I was bored."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, turning to face her.

"You were bored?"

"And," she closed her eyes, "you were kind falling into a rut, you know? Like everything was going as planned. And that's not the way it should be. You know...it shouldn't be normal."

"It shouldn't?"

"Nah, that'd be lame. Normal is lame. Normal is like...getting socks for Christmas. You know it's useful and you definitely need new socks, but it's too plain, too regular."

"Some people like plain and regular," he pointed out.

She frowned at him. "Do you?"

He thought about it for a second. "Maybe."

Sam returned her gaze to the stars. "Then no offense, but you're stupid. You're missing out on everything interesting. Today is the only today you'll ever get, Freddie. You have to make it count."

"Yeah, I kinda know that now."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I do. After today, I mean, I was playing computer games before you interrupted. I was happy playing computer games. But I guess after we went around did all that stuff, the computer games now seem too...,"he smirked, "boring. Normal, plain, and regular."

She stared at him. After a while, she smiled. "Good."

They both fell silent. At least until Freddie started laughing.

"You know what I just realized? You had to plan all this just to show me how boring plans are."

Sam reached up and shoved his head softly.

"Yeah, well, don't ever say I don't do nice things for you."

"Thanks. I won't."

"You're welcome. Oh and, Freddie? You know the bus tickets and the cab fare?"

"Yeah?"

"That was your money."

Freddie closed his eyes and groaned. Sam really was one of the things wrong with the world.

But somehow...he was alright with that.

I ripped off the Flying Eagle Cent information from flyingeaglecentdotcom. Just citing my sources.

Also, let's pretend I've been to the Columbia Center and I know how everything looks.

Also, also, the Cabal had a mass posting last week that I couldn't make due to my cousin's conveniently placed 17th birthday. Check out the Cabal page. You won't regret it much.

Last but not least, please review and please check for grammar or spelling. If you tell me sooner than I won't end up looking like a fool to as many people.

Thanks!