A/N:

Hello Readers! As many of you may recognize, this is a re-posted story, and one that my co-author (DwynArthur) and I are particularly fond of. We pulled the story as I took a tiny hiatus from this site (drama, drama, drama...but that's another story and it's over now so no point in telling it). But now we're back and hoping an all new audience will fall in love with the story that helped us fall in love with fan fiction.

Enjoy, and if you feel so inclined...leave us a review.

-TheWrtrInMe & DwynArthur

Disclaimer: We're only gonna say this once. We don't own iCarly. If we did half the stuff we write would never have made it past the censors. We do own the original characters in this story. If you want to use them, please ask first.

Chapter 1: Beginning of the End

For most people, their first time is part of a beginning. It's a way of saying 'I'm not going anywhere…we're in this thing together'. Freddie and Sam have never been like most people. They'd waited for their first time. Sometimes not so patiently. They'd pushed the limits of their boundaries and their self-control numerous times but never taken that final step. When they finally did, it was all of the things they'd thought it'd be – amazing and wonderful and just a little awkward. But when it was over, while most people would lie together and talk about the future, the way their lives would fit together from then on - they dressed in silence, gave each other a final kiss and said goodbye – forever.

She wasn't the sort of girl who stayed up late at night imagining all the romantic situations she'd like to find herself in. She didn't dream about a perfect guy who'd sweep in on a white horse, cover her face with kisses and whisk her away to a perfect life. She didn't believe in perfect lives and being with Freddie was about as close as she'd ever come to living in a fairy tale. He wasn't perfect; he was a little controlling and more than a little compulsive about things that, to her, didn't really matter. And together they were even less perfect; they fought like they were getting paid to do it. But she loved him and she knew he loved her, even before he'd said it, so their problems in the beginning had seemed small and manageable. They both were willing to deal with the parts of each other that were less than ideal because there was so much that was good about being together. But problems have a way of growing in direct proportion to your desire to ignore them and by their sixth month together, the issues they'd tried to avoid were too big to slough off; they were driving them crazy and further and further apart.

So they'd made an uncharacteristically grown up decision. They broke up. Or, more accurately, they decided they'd break up at midnight. Not the most normal of ways to do it, but when had they ever been normal? He said he loved her and even though she already knew it somewhere inside, hearing him say it hit her hard. Hard enough that, before she even realized it, she was saying it back. It was the first time she'd ever said that- to anyone. There had been other guys, some she'd even been pretty crazy about, but in that moment – hearing Freddie say those words to her- she knew that nothing she'd ever felt for anyone compared to what she felt for him; and maybe it never would. They'd kissed then and with the end of their relationship hovering in the air around them the kiss had been different – desperate and sweet and…hot? So when Freddie raised the idea of waiting a while – a little over an hour to be exact – to break up, it sounded like a good idea.

She wasn't the type to go around making out with random guys and, she hated to admit it, but in the last six months she'd gotten very used to being close to him this way. Who knew when she'd ever feel this again – be this close to him, or anyone, like this again? 'What the hell,' she thought – 'one for the road'.

Three weeks ago

The kiss began in the elevator and somehow ended up in his apartment, on the door, on the couch and then – in his bed. Neither of them had said anything, Scared that any words spoken would put a stop to the runaway train they were on. Maybe it was a bad idea, it probably was a bad idea, but she threw that thought into the back of her mind. The idea that soon he would no longer be hers, combined with the way his hands, his mouth, and his body were making her feel, had started a heat in the pit of her stomach that clouded her brain and made it impossible to be rational. The only clear thought echoing in her head was how much she loved him and how terrified she was that this would be it…forever.

Freddie pulled his lips from hers, raising up onto one elbow on the bed and looking down at her. She already knew what he was going to say. He was too…Freddie, to not say it.

"Are you su..."

She put one finger to his lips to silence him and her heart hurt when she saw how scared he looked. She wondered if that was how she looked to him.

"Yes, I'm sure. Yes, I know what this means. Yes, I know it's not going to change the decision we made and yes…I'm scared too" she'd answered all his questions, even the ones he hadn't said out loud. She drew his face back to hers, trying to kiss away his hesitation. She knew that if either of them stopped to really think about what they were doing, one of them would put a stop to it. And while she was aware how bad an idea it was to move full steam ahead and have sex with someone because a pause would make you question your decision, she did it anyway. She couldn't really explain it, even to herself, but she had to do this. In the center of her soul she knew that once they were over they might not get another chance. He'd move on, find someone who was less work, easier to be with. He'd go on to bigger things, better things. He'd take off for that fancy college on the East Coast and set the world on fire – he was just that brilliant. She'd be left here – without him. So if she had to live a life without him in it, at least she'd have this memory, this moment where he was completely hers.

It hadn't been exactly like the movies. She'd turned on the bed to kiss him, not realizing how close he was to the edge and he'd fallen off – pants around his ankles. Then he couldn't seem to get her bra unhooked on his own, and they'd finally erupted in laughter when neither of them could seem to get the condom on right. But it was okay, that was them – laughter and heat, passion and comfort. She'd bit her lip to keep from screaming in the beginning – no one ever told her it would hurt this bad, and her heart had melted when she saw the concern on his face, trying so hard not to hurt her. It had gotten better eventually, and in the end she felt the world melt away as wave after wave of a feeling too good to be real swept over her. Like electricity it shot out to her fingers, her toes, until she thought she'd lose the ability to form coherent ideas – 'so this was what the fuss was all about' she thought.

When it was over she screamed out his name, too caught up to even be embarrassed, thankful that his mom wasn't home. She heard him whispering his love for her into her ear and she was convinced that this moment was the single greatest one of her life. Then she realized it. This moment wasn't the beginning. No matter how beautiful it was, or how much she'd remember it – it was still the end.

They lay there catching their breath. It was the first time for both of them so neither was sure of the protocol. Was there a rule for 'How to leave the room without feeling awkward when you've just had sex with your ex'?

She made the first move, gathering the sheet around her as she sat up and searched the floor for her clothes. Her underwear were by his desk… how in the heck had they gotten over there? Wrapping herself completely she got up from the bed, gathering her clothing as she walked toward the bathroom.

"I'm gonna, uh…take a shower. If that's okay."

He turned to her from his spot on the edge of the bed. God this was awkward.

"Sure…um, there are towels in the cabinet and …"

"Yeah, I know Fred…Fredduccini"

'Are we back to this now?' he thought, watching her as she disappeared behind the door of the bathroom. He heard the shower start and sighed heavily, dropping his head into his hands. Had this been a bad idea? An hour ago it was the only thing that made sense to him. Having Sam here, in his arms. Touching her, making love to her; it had seemed so absolutely right. Yes, they were breaking up, but in his heart it was temporary. They were just taking the time to get themselves together, to learn how to deal with each others' differences and issues without melting down. But now, he wondered if she was looking at him differently. In the moment her eyes had been bright, fiery, filled with what he hoped was love for him. But now, they looked flat, like she had some sort of wall inside that she'd gone to hide behind. Had he hurt her? Did she think this wasn't important to him?

Sliding his pants on, he spoke to the empty room. "I'm an idiot."

"I've been saying that for years." Her voice was tight, he knew she'd intended it to be a joke, something to cut through the room full of awkward they suddenly found themselves standing in, but the humor of it was lost on him, and apparently her as well, because as he turned to look at her the smile on her face was forced and never met her eyes.

He tried to laugh; after all, this was who they were before they were an 'us', right? They made fun of each other, they joked, they fought. He stood and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

"So…" that was all he had.

"Well. That was, um…nice?"

"Yeah. Nice. So, do you want to watch a movie? Or I could fix us something to…"

She walked quickly to where he stood and silenced him with her lips. It was short and sweet and he suppressed the urge to cry as he realized what this kiss meant.

"Let's not do this, okay?" her eyes were desperate, "I…" she was all out of words; afraid that if she tried to talk the flood of tears she was trying to contain would burst. They'd made a decision and she wouldn't let him change his mind because he felt bad about what had happened. She'd have to be the strong one. She looked up at him and put her hand to his face. She loved this face. She dropped her hand, turned and walked toward the door.

"Sam!" he called after her, somehow unable to make his feet move. His heart was pounding in his chest. If she left, if he let her walk out that door, it was over. He didn't think he was ready for it to be over. He was stuck; terrified for her to leave, too much of a coward to make her stay.

She looked back at him, waiting for him to say something. It was a dangerous thing to do. Her brain told her to leave, the quicker the better. But her heart knew that if he said stay she'd forget everything else that had been said, she'd forget all the reasons they had for not being together. He was silent. She looked over at his bedside clock.

12:05

It was time. One of them had to make a move; it might as well be her. Once she walked out this door she'd have to take the last six months and bury them. She'd have to find a way to go back to being the old Sam, the one that picked on him and gave him a hard time and didn't love him… like that. She gave him one last look, summoned all the strength she had and opened the door.

"Sam…I love you"

She sighed, determined to be strong, losing her internal struggle as tears began to fall. She couldn't respond. She had to leave; the weight of the situation was crushing her. Without turning around she walked out of his room, out the apartment door and into the hallway. To her left was the fire escape, to her right the elevator.

She dried her tears…and took the stairs.

The first week had been murder: explaining things to Carly, doing the obligatory return of each other's stuff (she'd kept a Penny Tee that he'd left at her house-it still smelled like him). They'd come to a silent agreement on how to move forward. They'd still see each other; they were two-thirds of iCarly, so occupying the same space at least twice a week was a necessity, but they wouldn't be an "us." Sam and Freddie, as a couple, was over. Whether she knew it or not, Carly had played a large part in it happening. Overhearing her talk to her brother and his creepy new girlfriend had made them see… they were so fundamentally wrong for each other. In some ways it felt like a waste. It had taken them so long to stop dancing around their feelings and dive in and now it felt like they were throwing it all away. But some things can't be ignored; they were different, really, really different. They didn't like the same things, they didn't have the same dreams, they came from two completely different worlds and right now it didn't seem like they could make those worlds come together.

Maybe one day.

That was the simple promise. Maybe one day. Only three words but there were days when it first ended that those words were all that helped her crawl out of the bed. It was hard. She wasn't used to being this gone over a guy. She was Sam Puckett – tough, strong and independent. It was a strange feeling to realize that somewhere along the line she'd started to lean on Freddie and now that he was gone, she was having a hard time standing up.

He felt it too. They didn't talk to each other about it. There was no way they could make anyone understand how this felt. They told everyone that they were okay and for some reason people believed them. They had walked away from each other because they thought it was for the best. But if it was for the best, why did it hurt so much?

Sam groaned and tried to bury herself deeper under her comforter. It was Saturday. She usually loved Saturdays, they meant she'd have two complete days of freedom from homework and teachers and the lame people who went to her school. But today she found herself wishing it was Monday. At school she saw Freddie but it was limited, the day filled with classes and usually detention. Weekends since 'the incident' as Carly had taken to calling it, were strange to put it mildly. She'd held out hope that the awkwardness would be temporary, and now, almost a month later, she had to admit that it was better. But the "something" between them was still there, and no matter how much they tried to be like they were before, things had changed and there was no putting it back to what it was.

Interestingly enough Carly hadn't taken it as hard as she thought she would. Carly didn't like change, but this change was one she seemed okay with. She said that she missed them being like they were; she'd felt a little left out when Sam and Freddie had coupled up. She missed her best friends and was glad to have them back. The awkwardness seemed not to affect her – it was like she didn't even notice. They told her it was mutual and that they were going to stay friends and Carly had accepted that; which only made things worse because now she wanted them to go back to hanging out and watching movies and spending all their time as a trio again, especially on weekends. Sam had taken to actually doing her homework, just to have an excuse to stay home and avoid the whole thing.

But at least twice a week she was forced to be with him. iCarly rehearsals and broadcasts. She'd put on her best face and do what needed to be done. She told jokes, danced randomly and laughed in all the right places. She went back to abusing Freddie –verbally at least. She couldn't bring herself to touch him; the memories of all the other touches where too fresh. Gibby was happy to have her directing her harsh words toward someone else now. Freddie tried to react to her as he did before, scowling and sometimes screaming – but his heart wasn't in it. Sometimes it hurt just to look at her but he welcomed the hurt in a weird way. His heart healing was scarier than dealing with the broken pieces. If it hurt that meant she was still in there, still a part of him. What really worried him was what he'd do when it didn't hurt anymore.

Throwing the covers off, she brought her legs over the side of the bed. Sleep wasn't going to happen. She might as well get up.

She had iCarly in two hours and if she was ever going to keep Carly believing that she was all right, she couldn't go M.I.A. Picking up her phone she noticed the texts she'd missed overnight. Carly had been texting her since 9:00 when Sam had gone to bed, uncharacteristically sleepy.

Carly: Are u really going to bed?

Carly: Wake up! Freddie and me are video chatting…sign in

Carly: Sam?

She must have given up sometime around midnight. That's when the last text came in.

Carly: U suck. But I luv you. See you tomorrow at noon…don't be late!

She threw her phone back onto the unmade bed. She never understood why people bothered making beds when they were just going to be back in them anyway. Making her way to the bathroom, she started the shower and looked in the mirror at her reflection as she waited. At least her eyes weren't puffy anymore. For the first week after she and Freddie broke up she refused to cry. All day she stuffed it down, pinching herself sometimes just to make the feeling go away. But at night she had no control over what happened when she slept and she woke every morning with a vague memory of dreaming of him, and eyes that were red-rimmed and puffy. This was progress. Maybe she was getting over it. She could even think of him sometimes without feeling like someone had stabbed her in the gut. But that night…she still couldn't think about it.

Climbing into the shower, she turned the hot water on full blast, trying to wash away the feelings. She winced at the pressure of the water on her skin. It felt like someone was whacking her in the chest with a wet towel. 'Must have slept in the wrong position' she thought, turning her back to the spray as she rinsed her hair. She didn't have time to stay in as long as she'd like to. Carly would throw a conniption if she was late and she was so hungry that it drove her from the warm steam of the shower and into her room.

She threw on the first pair of clean jeans she found in her drawer, a t-shirt and a hoodie. That was one thing about not being a couple, she was back to not really caring how she looked. She threw her blond hair in to a ponytail and looked at the tray of make up on her dresser. Another good thing about being alone – no make-up. This was the game she played with herself every day: 'Why it's good to be alone'. So far she'd come up with tons of reasons: She didn't have to worry about talking with her mouth full, she'd never have to go to another meeting of the model train building enthusiasts and she didn't have to be bothered with Freddie's crazy mother. Lots of great reasons. She was hoping that eventually those reasons would make a difference.

She stared at her face in the dresser's mirror, reached down and put on a swipe of lip gloss. Old habits die hard.

"Mom. I'm leaving!" she called out, heading for the door. There was no answer. Her mom was either passed out or not home, not that it mattered.

Walking the distance to Bushwell Plaza she mentally prepared herself for another day spent with Carly and Freddie. It took less effort than it had in the beginning but she still had to put her game face on whenever the situation called for her and Freddie to be in the same room. On the one hand, she was glad she'd told Freddie she loved him and if her feeling had just gone away overnight she'd have wondered if it was even real. But on the other hand she was getting really tired of it all – the awkwardness that no one seemed to feel but them, the way she had to constantly remind herself not to look at him, no to touch him, not to care if he mentioned another girl. Well, that wasn't all fair. It wasn't like he was sitting around talking about all the hot girls he could go out with now that he and Sam had broken up, but Carly in her belief that they really were okay with not being together and taken to bringing up different girls that she 'heard' were interested in Freddie. He was polite, and always tried to change the subject but Carly was persistent, and didn't seem to notice that during these conversations Sam was trying to physically hold herself back from throttling her. Getting over Freddie was one thing, watching Freddie get over her was another thing entirely. That, she was not ready for.

The elevator dinged, the door raising slowly, letting her off at the eighth floor lobby. She hitched her bag up on her shoulder, took a deep breath and headed for Carly's door. She reached for the knob and then turned at the sound of a door opening and closing. Shit.

"Oh. Um…hey Sam. How…uh, how are you?"

He walked across the hall toward her. He must have been freshly showered because his hair was still wet, curling a little at the base of his neck. He was wearing her favorite shirt, the black button up one that he rolled the sleeves on. The one that hugged his biceps and made his skin look… 'get it under control Puckett' she thought and tried to steady her voice as she answered him, throwing her head to the side in practiced in difference. The picture of non-chalance.

"Hey Fredwardo…how's it hangin'?"

"I'm, uh, I'm good I guess. You?"

She laughed, "You already asked me that."

"You didn't answer me though."

"Oh…right. I'm, uh, good I guess."

'You guess!' she said to herself, 'don't say you guess! Say I'm awesome and hardly even remember that we were together!'

He studied her nervously. This had to be the most uncomfortable conversation they'd ever had. How they'd managed to avoid having it this long was a mystery to him but in this moment he wished they'd avoided it just a while longer. In the three weeks since they broke up they'd never been alone – and anytime it looked like it might happen one of them left the room or the apartment. Sam always arrived at Carly's either before him or after him and he wondered if she was doing it on purpose, staking out the hallway to avoid…well, this.

"Oh, well…that's good." He hooked his finger in the pockets of his jeans and rocked back and forth on his heels. 'Say something you idiot' his mind screamed. "So, I've been meaning to talk to you." 'Liar' he said to himself 'what you meant to say is I've been meaning to avoid you at all cost'.

"About what?"

"Nothing serious…just that, it's been, I don't know. Things between us since…well since, you know…they've been…"

"Awkward as hell?" she laughed and he tried to join her but it came out sounding like a hiccup.

"Yeah…awkward. I just…" he sighed, not sure what to say; thinking that maybe it was better not to say anything but his stupid mouth didn't listen. "I just don't want you to hate me Sam. I mean, I know what happened was sort of …unexpected and I just wish…"

She knew exactly how he felt. He didn't even have to say the words. He wished they could go back to how they were. He wished things had stayed the same. He wished he wasn't so damn confused.

"It's cool Freddif…Freddie." She walked toward him, glancing back at Carly's door. The last thing they needed was for Carly to walk in on some kind of scene. This situation was hard enough to deal with, the last thing they needed was their well-meaning best friend to stick her nose into the middle of it. "I admit, this is really weird and I don't really even know how I feel about it. But we agreed. We agreed that this was what was best and … we just have to get used to it."

'But what if I don't want to get used to it,' he thought. That's what he wanted to say, but looking at Sam, the picture of cool, he knew it was pointless. She was stubborn; if he was going to change this, he should have done it three weeks ago. He should have stopped her from leaving, told her this was a big mistake. He looked at her blue eyes; they looked steely and determined. There was no going back now. It was too late. He took a deep breath and tried to smile.

"Yeah, I guess so. So does this mean you're back to trying to beat me up every chance you get?"

He was smiling at her and she could tell he was really trying to make this work. This new return to the old version of Sam and Freddie. If he could try then she could too.

"Um…yeah! As a matter of fact" she patted her bag, "I've got an orange in here with your spine's name on it!"

They both turned as the door to Carly's apartment opened.

"What are you guys doing out here? I've been stuck in the studio with Gibby for an hour…and he's back to not wearing a shirt!" Carly waved them inside and for a split second, it felt just like old times.

"And that my friends, is how you make…"

"A BLG!" They screamed in unison.

"Bacon"

"Lettuce and…."

"Gibbeeh!"

"And that's it for tonight's iCarly….so remember"

"Poke a hobo"

"Get sand in your pants and…"

"Always…" Sam stopped short and her face went an unattractive shade of green. Scanning the room frantically her eyes settled on the hat Gibby was wearing, she snatched it from his head and unceremoniously lost her lunch inside.

"Always avoid puking in people's hats….ewww!" Carly cried, looking back at the camera. "So uh…I guess that's really all for tonight.

"And we're clear," Freddie lowered the camera, setting it down on the cart before hurrying over to Sam.

"Dude! She just ralphed in my hat!" Gibby complained.

"Not now Gib," Freddie warned.

"But my granddad gave me that hat!"

"Shut up Gibby!" Carly and Freddie screamed in unison.

Sam, who seemed to have recovered from her bout of vomiting looked up at Gibby, down at his hat and then wiped her mouth, handing Gibby's now soggy hat back to him with a halfhearted "Sorry Gib."

"Well I don't want it back now!"

Carly walked over to Sam, rubbing her back.

"Sam, you don't look so good. Are you okay?"

"Yeah Carls, I'm great…I just like puking for kicks and giggles." Sam's response lacked its usual bite.

Carly pouted, crossing her arms across her chest. "Hey! I was just trying to make sure you're okay."

"I know, I'm sorry Carls. I think I'm good now." She shook her head. That's what she got for eating day old pizza after it had been sitting out all night. Freddie had been right…her overactive hunger was going to be the death of her. "Must have been something I ate…or the idea of Gibby on a sandwich."

"I'm gonna go get you some ginger ale" Carly said, walking toward the studio door. Sam grabbed her bag and followed.

"I'm coming with. Later Gibby…sorry about your hat." She paused for a split second and looked at Freddie. He looked worried, which brought a small smile to her lips. The nub still cared. Nice to know. "I'll see ya Fredward."

"Yeah, see ya later Sam."

Descending the stairs Sam headed toward the kitchen where Carly was pouring a glass of ginger ale. She felt a fresh wave of nausea and had to take a seat at the counter.

"Ugh Carly, what the hell is that smell?"

Carly turned from the refrigerator and studied Sam with shock.

"I'm making you turkey bacon. I thought it would help your stomach if you ate something." She set a plate in front of Sam who recoiled like it was full of snakes instead of bacon.

"God, it must have gone bad. It smells like chizz!"

Carly grabbed the plate and sniffed, looking back at Sam in confusion. "It smells like bacon! You must really be sick…you're turning down bacon!" she reached over the counter to put her hand on Sam's forehead. "You don't have a fever. Do you want to go upstairs and lay down? You don't look so good."

Carly was right. She felt like crap. But going upstairs meant another awkward moment with Freddie… and hearing about Gibby's yack-filled hat. She wasn't in the mood to deal with either right now. All she really wanted to do was go home, crawl in her bed and sleep. She stood shakily from her stool and grabbed her bag, drinking the glass of ginger ale Carly had put in front of her. It actually helped a little.

"Nah, it's okay Carls. I think I'm just gonna head home. See you tomorrow?"

"Sam are you sure you're okay to get home by yourself? Spencer will be home in about an hour. He'll take you."

"It's alright, I'll take a cab." She waved at Carly over her shoulder, heading for the door, "Stay Brun"

"Stay blond! Call me when you get home!"

Sam had barely made it into her house when a fresh wave of nausea hit her. She sprinted up the stairs and made it to her bathroom a split second before her second vomiting episode of the day. Damn Carly and her rotten bacon. When it was over she lay her head against the cool side of the toilet and tried to work up the energy to get up and shower. She felt gross. An hour-long puke fest would do that to you, she supposed.

Turning on the shower, she removed her clothes slowly. She was so tired. It was only 9:00; she hadn't been to bed that early since the last time she was sick. Maybe she'd get lucky and wake up with strep throat, that would give her a few days with a guarantee of not seeing Freddie. She almost smiled at the thought. Stepping into the shower she immediately winced at the ache in her chest as the water jets hit her breasts. Great, now she was going to be sick and have her period at the same time. Her period.

Her heart stopped in her chest, picking up a second later, pounding so hard she swore she could see it. Her eyes were wide and frantic and her thoughts rushed as she tried in vain to make her mind focus. Okay, two months ago she'd started while she and Carly were at the mall. And then last month she'd gotten it at Carly's house she thought…they'd watched the new full length Girly Cow movie and Carly had to give her pain pills because she'd had wicked cramps. That was, what… the 10th? The 15th?

She jumped from the shower and hurriedly wrapped a towel around her. She ran to her desk and grabbed the calendar that hung on the wall above it. Why couldn't she be more like Carly? She kept a calendar with her "special days" circled in red. It wasn't exactly ingenious, but Lord what she wouldn't do for one of Carly's dorky calendars right now. There was only one day circled on this calendar. The second day of the month. The day she and Freddie had broken up. The day they'd…..

Shit. They'd had sex on the second. It was now the thirtieth. Her period was due the 10th, or the 15th, it didn't matter which. What mattered was that it had never come. She was no mathematician but she'd paid enough attention in health class to figure this one.

'Holy shit' she thought, 'I'm pregnant.'

Dun, dun, dun...