Serendipity (Book 2)

Eye To Eye by Kari Kurofai

FanFiction.net

Eye To Eye by Kari Kurofai

TV » iCarly
Rated: K+
Language: English
Genre: Humor & Romance
Characters: Sam P., Freddie B.
Words: 7,606
Published: Oct 18, 2010

***

Spencer always knew when Carly was coming home. He could hear it as soon as the elevator stopped on the eighth floor of Bushwell Plaza, the yelling and the whining and the hissed retorts that echoed off the walls in the apartment complex. Recently they had died down to a minimum, and he'd been caught off guard by his sister and her friends arriving more than once in the past few weeks, the world unusually calm with their entrance, which was just a little unusual.

But today, today, it was loud as he remembered it being three years ago, the insults flying off the walls and clear to his ears, accompanied by Carly's resigned sigh as they came through the door. "We're home," she grumbled, tossing her backpack on the couch.

Her brother raised an eyebrow, not questioning the "we" in that statement. It was true, after all, those kids were here more than their own houses. "I can hear that," he smirked, watching as Sam and Freddie trudged in just behind her, deep in a heated debate, he didn't really bother to tune in to the exact words, he could imagine what they were without causing his eardrums more pain than they were already in. His gaze roamed over the pair as Carly made her way to the fridge, taking in the furrowed brows and the clenched fists. Well, clenched fists on Sam's part, Freddie's hands were kinda full with-

"Umm . . . What's that?" Spencer asked warily, edging towards them despite his fear of eminent death should he get mixed up in this.

Freddie looked up, holding a hand in front of Sam's face to signal silence. She bit it. "Hey! That hurt!" he took a half step back, turning his attention to Spencer, "What's what?"

"That," Spencer pointed down at the thing in Freddie's other hand. The teen's fingers were clasped tight around a handle that looped down over a shade, pulled up to conceal whatever was tucked away neatly in what could only be a baby carrier. "Please tell me Sam didn't steal a child."

Sam glared at him, and he swallowed. "No, you idiot. I didn't steal a kid, what do you take me for?" She paused as everyone's eyes flickered to her, "Okay, yeah," she admitted, "But a kid? Not my style."

"It's for our Teen Choices class," Freddie muttered.

Spencer crouched down in front of the carrier, peering into it, "Oh yeah! I remember that class! We had to take care of flour babies!" His hands twitched and he reached inside, picking up the thing, "But . . . This isn't a flour baby."

"It's one of those fancy robotic babies," Carly cut in, making Spencer jump and nearly drop the fake child. "The have all these sensors in them so that the teachers know you're treating it right, it can cry and everything." She shrugged, waving a hand as if it wasn't important. "We have to take care of them in pairs for a week."

"Ah, I see . . ." Spencer narrowed his eyes at the baby in his hands, staring into it's creepy doll eyes. Robots, and dolls, had always given him the willies. "So, Freddie and Sam-" he began, realizing the source of today's argument from hell.

"Have to take care of that one together," Carly confirmed.

"So now I'm stuck with two immature things to look after," Freddie huffed.

Sam lunged for him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, "I'm not immature, nub! And I don't need taking care of! I'll show you who's-" Her sentence was suddenly stalled as Carly stepped forward, shoving a meatball in her mouth before she could start another word.