The Son, And Yet Not

Dear Diego,

--yes, that will do. Your name alone makes sense in a way that *don* never did and *father*, unfortunately, never will.

I won't be coming back for Christmas. I have balls of paper crumpled up in my paper bin with reasons as to why. An exam that needs to be prepared, lonely friends I should spend time with. I won't insult you with trying to pretend that they are the truth. I could study for my exam in Los Angeles, and I know you would not mind if I brought with me some friend who needed it.

The truth is, I do not want to go back right now. I need some time to myself, to figure out who I am and what I should do with my life. If you think I said no to the adoption with an easy heart, you are wrong. The hardest part about it was to hurt you so much. Still I know I made the right decision. I cannot be the things you want of me, and to be frank, I do not even really want to. I wince at my own cruelty writing this, but I need you to understand, and you do not seem to listen anymore. It is an ironic twist of fate, since you are the one person who has always been able to understand me before. This is the first time words have ever been needed between us, and part of me resents that. Not you, never you, but the situation that has come between us. That even don Alejandro understands my decision better than you do.

You *are* my father, Diego, in every way that matters. You have done more for me than anyone else in the world, but I am not a De La Vega. I never will be. I wish I had been able to claim I would be proud to be a De La Vega, but it is simply not true. I am proud to know the De La Vegas, but your life is not mine. Maybe if I had been born to it as you are -- but then again, even you needed to escape from it. For me, it is wrong in every possible way. I cannot dress up like a nobleman, get myself a new name and new manners and forget what I come from. It would feel like living a lie, and I have been doing that for too long already. I don't regret the past, but I also refuse to regret the future. I need to know who I am.

I am a son of the peasants and the soil, as well as the war that followed and the good life you gave me. I know the joys and hardships of those lives, and I will always remember it. I am an orphan with only the name Felipe to call my own, my family name I cannot remember, if I ever had one. My friends and I have been toying with different ideas for names, being a variant I am rather fond of. has been suggested, but that I like less, even though it is true I am a climbing bird in many ways. I am also a cat among the ermines, of which I am proud and amused.

I am a mute. It is no less a part of me than any of those other things. Granted, there have been times when I have held my hopes of speaking, but this is the way things are. Maybe it will change some day, maybe not. As the moslems say, Insh'allah. That is another reason why it is so hard to face you. Although I know you want to give me your unconditional support, I see in your face so much hopes and wishes and despair, and I simply cannot agree to those emotions. My life is not second best. You taught me to hold my head high, and to believe in myself. In that belief, there is no room for what if. If I am to have any pride, it has to be complete, and so I am proud of my handicap. At times it may be frustrating with the prejudices and misunderstandings I have to face, but that is not something that lessens *me*. I have been living with this for fourteen years, Diego, how can I see it as something else than an essential part of myself?

The first time I heard again, I cried. Not from joy of what I had gained, that came later. I cried from grief of what I had lost. It sounds insane, I know it, and maybe it is not possible to understand for someone who hasn't been there. Our limitations are parts of us, and I had lost one of those parts. That was what made me so unsure, why I didn't want to tell people. If I wasn't myself anymore, how could I know how people would react to this new person?

I don't think I would cry if I got my voice back. After all, I am older now and more mature. But if I live the rest of my life mute, I will not feel displeased at my deathbed.

Have I been able to make you understand, now that I have used words on you? Sometimes, forgive me for saying this, you can be so thick. I cannot be angry with you. For one thing, I am laughing too hard. Since I started writing, my roommate Javi has entered, along with a girl from town called Consuela. They know better than to disturb me, and so they spend their time sitting on my bed and competing in who can make the ugliest faces. Those two do not act their age. I will be spending Christmas with them, so you can rest easily, knowing that I am in very bad company.

Send my love to don Alejandro, Victoria, the baby, and all of our friends back in Los Angeles. I will come see you all, soon I hope. Just not yet. If baby starts walking before I come, you are free to write and scold me, and any longer than that I fully expect you to come over in person and drag me back in my hair. But for now, just give me some time and space, and remember that I love you very much.

yours

Felipe

End file.

The Son, And Yet Not by Katta


Please Wait For Me

Please Wait For Me

Lyric Quill

The night tasks are the ones most difficult, to be sure. It does not take much of a man to sit and drink tea whilst his manslaves perform his hard labor for him. But it takes a man with a bit more courage and spirit to take sword in hand and attack his Majesty's castle walls with only his brains and his weapon to aid him.

At least, that is what Rosarita said to me.

Tornado was almost as weary as I after the latest exploit. He, of course, braved the men who dared oppose him by running through them in his swifter-than-lightning speed. I, on the other hand, have to take my sword and plough through the thick of them. Invigorating, to be sure, but tiring nonetheless.

I barely made it home in time to nod goodnight to my father. He gets a bit suspicious, sometimes, at my late night returns to the _hacienda. _But then, of course, he always proceeds to draw his own conclusion. I was out with the sergeant, perhaps. Stargazing, most likely. Silly boy.

"Diego, why can't you... be as other men?"

And then of course, there is you, Rosarita. Asking me such personal questions on such a beautiful night.

Why can't I be as other men?

Ridiculous question. They grow too much hair, you see.

"I'm certain that since you went to that... the _university..."_

My, my. The way you say it causes it to sound like such a crude word. University, how perfectly wretched.

"... you haven't even skinned a knee. In the meantime, other men are dying at the end of lances and daggers to fight for their freedom."

Of course I haven't skinned a knee. I've dislocated one. Why, I'm so languid at times it horrifies me. Tonight, I'm shamed to say, I've escaped with a mere dozen sword wounds and a nasty knock on the head. But what can that do? You're still lovely. Both of you.

"Why can't you get up and fight, instead of sending those useless letters of yours? They do nothing, you know that. When you were younger, you never would have even thought of writing a letter. You would have taken instant action, to defend the side of the underdog."

You're right, my dear _senorita. _It does not sound too intelligent, now, does it? But then, of course, I only went to a _university. _

Here you turn to me earnestly, flashing me a disapproving look, though I am quite certain I have not said anything. "What happened to you, Diego? Why were you more a man at ten years old than you are nearly fifteen years later?"

I can't answer that. If only you knew, _senorita, _you would not be so quick to criticize. I think about telling you at times. Honestly. But then again, if I informed you of my secret identity, I would put you at risk. I cannot do that, for your sake, or for mine.

"I do not understand." I say, politely.

Exasperated sigh. "Oh, Diego! For someone so smart you are as dim as the sergeant, at times!"

"Rosarita, I demand to know why you are acting this way." It's hard to appear unruffled sometimes. No doubt you are alarmed by my aberrant display of anger.

"Why can't you remember what you used to stand for?!"

"Wait..."

Slap.

... ... ...My, how charming your retreating back looks. The beautiful sway of your hips is enchanting, as well. Your red shawl, almost as scarlet as the deepening red mark on my cheek.

__

Senorita, I have to say that caused greater damage than a thousand rocks being hurled in my direction, hurt more than a dozen bullet wounds in the stomach.

Is that truly what this has come to, my dear Rosarita? Can you not see the fire that is still in my eyes?

Perhaps my subterfuge is a bit too effective.

No. This is what I want. I could care less about the admiration I would receive from you if you knew I, the ever-enervated Diego, was your charming prince. I do not want to see the happiness in your dark eyes when you would see me. And, in turn, I do not mind seeing the disapproval and sadness that flickers across your expression when I appear to you now. Yes, I could honestly say that I would always choose keeping my identity secret rather than inform you.

Then why does a single slap sting so much?

The philosophers say that the stars hold the answers. But when I look at them, all I see is a large sword in the sky. Yes, I like to say it is mine. On some nights I see Tornado. A magnificent stallion, he is; no finer horse blood found anywhere in California. I've seen him out-race the wind. But on most nights, all the other constellations are blocked from my sight, except for the sword. It's double edged, Rosarita, did you know that?

You say I can do nothing compared to other men. Perhaps you are right. For other men have the courage I do not, the strength I do not, the valor, the fiery determination, is that correct?

It appears to be what you deduced.

But have you searched deeper? I'm begging for you to see me, the true me, but you are just as easily fooled as the rest of them. Zorro gives everything, as you have once told me, and I know that to be correct. My thanks are the fleeting, grateful glances of the young children I save, from the _rancheros _I help. My thanks, more often than not, is the stinging brush of a bullet, a painful swipe of a sword. I do not regret it, for it is what I love. My

blood sings when I am defending my people, _senorita! _My heart races with excitement as time and time again I am victorious in battle!

And yet...

The rejection I receive from the ones I love dearest. Bernardo understands, because, though he is a man deprived of one sense and pretending to be deprived of a second, he rarely misses anything. But even his company is sometimes not enough, _seniorita. _

I would give everything, _anything, _for my people. And I do.

The cost is so bitter.

"Diego?"

I look up. Your form, a silhouette against the stars of the sky, is bent solicitously over mine.

You're so beautiful. You make my throat catch, my heart ache.

You sit next to me, and I deeply breathe in. You always smell like a fresh garden in spring. When you walk into a room, it's as if a breeze from southern California is wafting through the door.

"Diego."

Diego would look up. Diego was a gentleman; he would never ignore a lady.

I'm weary of playing parts. I am tired, _senorita, _do you understand?

A touch on my shoulder. "Diego, I apologize."

Silence.

"It was wrong to strike you. It was also wrong to... to say those things to you."

Sigh. "No need to apologize, Rosarita. What you said was correct. And..." rueful smile, "The mark shall probably fade, in time."

Firm shake of the head, though the smile on your lips is evident. "Diego... you are who you are. I should not try to change you. Zorro... well, Zorro fights in a more physical way. But in your own way, you help aid California in the struggle against tyranny." Pause. Chuckle."You know... if I were to see this El Zorro again, I would most likely ask him why he gives up so much to be... to be what he is."

Remarkable. I've been meaning to ask him the same thing. "The answer might prove interesting."

I meet your gaze, and take in a breath. For the first time, I see you looking past the clever ruse. Searching in a place that I usually hide from everyone, but for some reason, cannot conceal tonight.

What do you see, that makes your eyes widen? I say nothing, and yet, you slowly smile, and nod.

My gaze flicks down to the ground again.

The curtain can't yet be raised, Rosarita. In time, when I am sure of the victory I am striving for, I can reveal myself to you. I yearn to hold you in my arms as I have before, so long ago.

I can only fight as Zorro for so long. When I am through, when justice is finally served, I shall come to you.

Please, be patient. Please wait for me.

A kiss on my cheek. "Goodnight, Diego."

I turn to watch as you head back inside.

Then I return my gaze to the sky.

End file.

Please Wait For Me by Halfpenny


The Cotton Swab Christmas Tree

* * *

**The Cotton Swab Christmas Tree**

* * *

**Klaus Schilling**

* * *

.de

* * *

Rating: Teenagers

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own _iCarly Show_ or _Zoey 101_

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own _Mary's Boy Child_ by Boney M.

* * *

Abstract

Family, Friendship, Spiritual, SciFi, Arts - Spencer designs a new decoration for Ridgeway's Christmas party. Stacey Dillsen is coming to help him. Carly is the Santa at a Christmas party. Nevel plans on ruining the event.- Spencer/Stacey, Freddie/Sam, Gibby/Reuben, Carly/Dustin, Nevel/Quinn, Jake/Lola

* * *

**Dedication**

* * *

The story is dedicated to _Angelus Silesius_

* * *

_Though Christ in Bethlehem_
_A thousand times be born,_
_But not withing thee self,_
_Thy soul shalt be forlorn._

* * *

Table of Contents

**Preface** :
**1. School Christmas Party Ahead** : :
**1.1. Santa Carly** :
**1.2. Start Spreading The News** :

**2. Preparing The Stage** : :
**2.1. White Gluemas** :
**2.2. Rue It Again** :
**2.3. More Guests from California** :

**3. Surprises** : :
**3.1. The Party** :
**3.2. Conclusion** :

**A. Appendix** : :
**Glossary** :

* * *

List of Tables

**1. Characters** :

* * *

**Colophon**

This story was written in the frame of the challenge _Decorating_ of the LiveJournal community _Groovysmoothie_.

* * *

**Preface**

* * *

Table 1. Characters

* * *

#Carly Shay#iCarly#
#Spencer Shay#iCarly#
#Samantha Puckett#iCarly#
#Fredward Benson#iCarly#
#Nevel Papperman#iCarly#
#Wesley#iCarly#
#Reuben#iCarly#Boy in Carly's age in _iWin a Date_
#Jonah#iCarly#Sam's boyfriend in _iHate Sam's Boyfriend_
#Valerie#iCarly#Freddie's girlfriend in _iWill Date Freddie_
#Gibby#iCarly#
#Jake Crandle#iCarly#Carly's boyfriend in _iLike Jake_
#Principal Franklin#iCarly#
#Nevel Papperman#iCarly#Mischievous nerd in _iNevel_ _iRue The Day_
#Harry Joyner#iCarly#Experienced artist in _iHeart Arts_
#Quinn Pensky#Zoey 101#
#Stacey Dillsen#Zoey 101#
#Dustin Brooks#Zoey 101#
#Lola Martinez#Zoey 101#
#Zoey Brooks#Zoey 101#
#James Garrett#Zoey 101#
#Malcolm Reese#Zoey 101#Extremely successful Hollywood producer in _Spring Break-Up_

* * *

**Chapter 1. School Christmas Party Ahead**

* * *

Table of Contents

**1.1. Santa Carly** :
**1.2. Start Spreading The News** :

* * *

**1.1. Santa Carly**

* * *

The pupils of Ridgeway were excited because Mr. Franklin had just announced the traditional Christmas party at their school. Their was a committee for the party that was responsible, among many other things, for determining the Santa.

"If Sam is the Santa," Freddie growled, "I'll miss the party and stay sick at home."

"Aw!" Sam replied sarcastically, "at home where your mom will measure your heat thrice an hour and you get all those bitter teas to drink!" She knew that Marissa Benson would suffogate her poor son whenever he shows the slightest signs of an illness. And Sam enjoyed taunting Freddie mercilessly with this.

Freddie was close to vomiting.

Sam grinned merrily.

"Shut it already!" Carly had to separate her catfighting friends. "I'd like to be the Santa! But there are many other esponsible tasks, such as caring for the illumination of the party hall." Carly looked at Freddie.

"I volunteer for emptying the containers with the party snacks!" Sam announced proudly.

Freddie and Carly were sure that Sam was optimally qualified for such a responsible task.

Jake Crandle came along. "Hi guys! I'll play at the Christmas Party."

"Are you also going to sing?" Freddie asked, trembling from dismay.

Jake wasn't yet sure. "I need someone to sing," he explained, "For, else, my number will be canceled and replaced with Mrs. Briggs bagpipe solo!"

Carly, Freddie, and Sam were close to vomiting.

Wesley came along, beatboxing all the way. He was also up to performing for the party.

The three stumbled upon Gibby and Reuben.

"Hi girls," Gibby told Sam and Carly, "we need someone to help us with the decoration, especially the tree."

"Are snacks allowed during the work?" Sam wondered.

"Sure!" Gibby replied.

"Then it's me!" Sam replied.

Reuben looked at his list. "That leaves Carly for the Santa, as Valerie has already turned it down!"

Carly cheered and bounced around.

Freddie smiled because his worst nightmares would not come true.

"Oh, I forgot to say ..." Reuben continued, "Freddie will assist Sam. Jonah can't ... for some reason."

Freddie moaned, passed out, and slumped mercilessly to the ground.

* * *

**1.2. Start Spreading The News**

* * *

The kids returned to Spencer's loft.

A woman of like twenty years had been helping Spencer with some electric wires and so on.

"Hi, kids!" Spencer greeted the teenagers, "as you know, my sculptures are often set on fire ..."

"Too often!" Carly sighed.

"This is Quinn Pensky from Ridgeway technical school. She's a whiz in engineering and will countercheck my sculptures for security." Spencer announced proudly.

Carly, Freddie, and Sam looked oddly at each other. They knew that it wouldn't hurt having anyone counterchecking, but that Quinn girl looked very chaotic. Was she anywhere near to trust?

"Spencie," Carly replied, "I have just been selected as the Santa for the Ridgeway Highschool Christmas party."

Spencer beamed. "Go, girl!" he screamed in joy. "You will be the greatest Santa ever!"

"I'll build up the stage decoration!" Sam moaned, "assisted by some hyperdork." Sam looked menacingly at Freddie.

Spencer remembered the boring stage decorations when he was still at Ridgeway school. "It can't be a normal stage decoration, it must be something ... supertastic!"

Sam agreed. "Maybe you could add some of your sculptures to the stage deco!"

"Oh, yeah, I sure will, and very much so!" Spencer beamed. "You remember my Merry-Sneezemas-Tree?"

The teenagers did remember.

"I've thought of some improvement," he said."I'll add some fantastic decoration made of something revolutionary, such as ..." Spencer had to think a bit. "Cotton swabs? A Christmas Tree made of snow-white cotton swabs,and white glue!"

"oh, yeah, noone else would think of that," Carly beamed, "except my adult brother Spencer."

Freddie and Sam agreed wholeheartedly.

Quinn sighed in dismay while she fixed another loose screw in one of Spencer's artistic robots. "I'm sorry to say that," Quinn interjected, "but the idea to build sculptures from cotton swabs is not very original."

Spencer sighed.

"Aw Spencie," Carly remarked, "it may not be original to use cotton swabs, but your sculpture will be great and original, whatever."

"If you say so, sis," Spencer shrugged. "But who is the genius artist that works with cotton swabs?"

Quinn moaned in disgust. "A girl from my boarding school, her name is Stacey. She lisps all the time, that's why we didn't like her."

"That's not a nice thing to do!" Carly looked disapprovingly at Quinn.

"Making me Sam's slave isn't nice, either!" Freddie growled.

Freddie punched Sam's shoulders. It was his first violent reaction for quite some time, although Sam had always treated him in such a way.

Carly stopped the bickering frenemies.

"May I contact that Stacey?" Spencer asked Quinn."I could use another great artist's opinion about my project! And Harry Joyner is currently in Rome, redecorating the _Sixtine Chapel._"

"I can't encourage you to contacther," Quinn replied, "but if you insist ... I'll help you find her."

Spencer agreed.

"I'll have to think about my role as the Santa," Carly boomed. "I'll give a cute speech, and then I'll distribute the gifts."

Sam nodded. "OK, by the way ... if Quinn is around, may she also countercheck the security of the stage mechanics and illumination? I don't trust Freddork."

Quinn nodded. "OK, this will work, let's turn the lights down!" she ordered Spencer after having fixed a few wires.

Spencer obeyed. When he flipped the switch ... Boom!!!

"Oops!" Quinn squealed.

* * *

**Chapter 2. Preparing The Stage**

* * *

Table of Contents

**2.1. White Gluemas** :
**2.2. Rue It Again** :
**2.3. More Guests from California** :

* * *

**2.1. White Gluemas**

* * *

"Hi, I'm Stacey!" some girl said with a lisp when Spencer had opened the door for her. "I've heard that you need my help!"

Spencer nodded. "We're going to decorate the stage for a school's Christmas party, all in cotton swabs!"

Stacey bounced around and cheered crazily.

"Not to forget the white glue!" Spencer remarked. "Snow white, in order to symbolise the virginity of Mary!"

"Which Mary?" Stacey asked.

"The Holy Virgin, of course," Spencer replied, it's Christmas, and thus I thought a nativity scene would be appropriate. And it will not be just a simple decoration for a school party, no, it will comapre with the nativity scenes of the great artists in history!

Stacey cheered again.

"We need to beat some of the greatest artists in the history of arts," Spencer swooned, "such as _Perugino_."

Stacey could not quite handle her excitement, and she collapsed, ending up in Spencer's arms.

"Oops!" Spencer shrugged. He carried Stacey to the couch in his loft.

Carly descended the stairway. "Spencer! can't you get girlfriends that walk on their own feet? Do you have to ..."

"That's not a girlfriend of mine," Spencer replied, "it's Stacey Dillsen, you know, the sculpture artist that is going to assist me."

"Oops!" Carly looked ashamed. Then she helped Spencer placing Stacey on the couch. She also tried to wake her up.

"I have made some great plans for the stage decoration for your Christmas party," Spencer said, "the manger, the Holy Virgin all in white coitton swabs, underlining the virginity, and , of course, a choir of angels."

"But Spencie," Carly moaned, "it's just a Christmas party at some school here, not a Roman basilica!" Alas, she knew well that she could never dissuade her favourite brother from accomplishing his lofty plans. "What are all those buckets in our kitchen? Sam thought it's some white vinegrette, but it didn't taste well."

Spencer laughed. "White glue, for our sculptures of cotton swabs."

Carly was annoyed. "And where are the cotton swabs?" A moment later, she knew that she didn't have to ask. Opening the bathroom, she was buried by a heap of packages of q-tips.

* * *

**2.2. Rue It Again**

* * *

Whipped by Sam, Freddie carried the buckets of white glue and the packages of cotton swabs to the stage. He moaned and bitched, but he followed Sam's sadistic orders.

"The illumination is OK, so far!" Quinn remarked. The previous accident notwithstanding, everyone trusted her. "This is one of my inventions, the greenscreen," Quinn noticed

Freddie moaned. "I've been using the screen for four years ...I know what it is!" Anyways, he was pleased to meet the inventor.

Sam interrupted Quinn's and Freddie's tech talk, reminding him of being her slave.

Spencer stood on a ladder. According to Stacey, it took a certain amount of seconds to wait for a drop of glue to dry. Spencer had to be very careful when he attached his swabs to the ceiling.

Stacey counted the seconds. "...4 Mississippi ... 5 Mississippi ... 6 Mississippi ..."

Suddenly, the screen activated itself.

A picture appeared, making Carly, Freddie, Sam, and Spencer startle. "Do you rue the day, Carly?" Nevel thundered, "Do you rue it?"

Spencer dropped a bucket of glue, unleashing its content on Stacey's head. He jumped down from the ladder in order to help Stacey.

"Who's that?" Quinn wondered.

Carly told Quinn about Nevel Papperman, the firstborn of Satan.

"He really showed you a picture of his brain?" Quinn wondered. "Do you want to see mine?" Quinn exposed her nostrils into Carly's direction. "What do you see? I have an IQ of ..."

Carly was disgusted.

"Do you rue it?" Nevel asked. "Who's that annoying lady?" Nevel wondered about Quinn. "You think you can put up with me?"

Quinn nodded solemnly. "And I have six toes on my right foot! Do you want to see my toenail collection?"

"Impressive!" Nevel was astonished. "But I bet you can't smell the brand of Carly'shampoo?"

"Shampoo is for losers!" Quinn squealed. She had been disgusted by her room-mates' cosmetic obsessions when she had been new at her boarding school. "But I may taste metals with my tongue!"

Nevel was impressed. "Whatever," Nevel added, "your Christmas party will be mere dystopia!" Nevel laughed hysterically before his picture and voice vanished into thin air.

Spencer was still occupied with Stacey. "That glue is sticky! I'll get you a shower with warm water, hope it helps ..."

"Before I forget it," Quinn announced, "My friend Lola Martinez will come to your Christmas party. She was my room-mate at the boarding school. My other room-mate Zoey can't come, though. But her little brother will come with Lola."

"How little is that little brother?" Sam wondered.

Freddie replied that he was too young for Sam, in any case. He earned an evil gaze for his snide remark.

Quinn told them that Dustin was not much younger than Carly and would probably like to hang out with the three.

They smiled happily while Spencer called Carly into the showers. "I forgot taht I'm a man and thus not allowed in the girls' bathrooms! Some girls don't take this lightly." Spencer moaned, showing the wounds that he had just received from Tasha, Shannon, and Tareen.

Carly was disgusted because she had to help Stacey, but she followed Spencer's orders.

"Lola Martinez? Isn't that the famous actress from Middle School Musical by Malcolm Reese?" Freddie asked Quinn.

"Yeah, she's up for Oscar elections, they say." Quinn confirmed Freddie who started swooning.

"Forget it!" Sam boomed. "No cute girl will ever like a dorkward."

Freddie sighed in dismay. But he figured it would be fun meeting Lola and Dustin, no matter what.

* * *

**2.3. More Guests from California**

* * *

Lola and Dustin arrived the next weekend.

Quinn introduced Lola and Dustin to Freddie, Carly, and Sam.

"We're already on vaction," Dustin explained. They had a shorter summer break, instead.

Lola was on a break between two movies.

Both Dustin and Lola had been watching the web show from time to time. Especially Dustin was happy when he saw his idols.

"Do you want to help us with our Christmas special?" Carly asked Lola and Dustin.

Lola and Dustin agreed unison.

Lola hoped to become more famous this way.

Dustin enjoyed being with nice people of his age, such as Carly. He even liked Sam as long as she was not bickering with Freddie.

Part of the Christmas special involved shooting videos during the preparation of the stage for the Christmas party.

"What is Spencer doing?"quoteDustin asked Carly who had just introduced them.

Carly smiled. "He's making the decoration for the stage, using thousands of cotton swabs and white glue. He's crazy, I tell you."

Dustin sighed in agreement.

Spencer smiled. His work had progressed fast because Stacey was a great assistant, her permanent bad luck notwithstanding. "It's done! A Christmas tree made of cotton swabs and white glue!"

Stacey cheered and hugged Spencer who almost kissed her in turn.

"I'm going to puke!" Carly moaned in disgust.

Dustin comforted Carly, making her feel all cozy and fuzzy.

Shirtless Gibby entered the stage, fixing everything for Jake who was going to practice with his guitar, yet without a singer.

Lola stepped up the stage and squealed. "You look like someone I know from my Californian school!" She told Jake.

Dustin wrapped his vest around Gibby.

"I guess you're talking about my twin brother James," Jake replied in a charming manner while he started to play the guitar.

"What a performance!" Lola praised Jake. "Why don't we sing to it?"

Jake shrugged. "Those ignorants say that I can't sing. What I do best is play the guitar and kiss."

Lola smiled. "I'm best at acting and kissing. But I don't believe that you're such a good kisser. May you prove it?" She played with her lips.

Jake grabbed Lola by the waist and pulled her in for a lingering French kiss that took forever.

"Aw!" Freddie told Sam. "The perfect shot for our Christmas Special! The Hollywood Star kissing our aspiring Rock star!"

Sam tried to look disapprovingly at her slave, but she had to agree.

Carly couldn't stomach Jake kissing another girl. She threw up right onto Dustin's trousers.

"You look really cute when you're about vomiting!" Dustin remarked, blushing deeply.

Nobody had ever made such a compliment for Carly. This made her blushing back.

Finally, Principal Franklin declared the stage ready for the party.

* * *

**Chapter 3. Surprises**

* * *

Table of Contents

**3.1. The Party** :
**3.2. Conclusion** :

* * *

**3.1. The Party**

* * *

Finally, the party started. Principal Franklin gave a long sermon about the traditions of Ridgeway.

Carly's's task as a Santa was essentially the moderation of the party. She announced the various numbers. "Jake and Lola will sing a Christmas song based on a popular Caribic tune. Applause!"

Jake Crandle entered the stage, accompanied by new girlfriend Lola Martinez.

"I've coupled the accoustic engines to the red synthesiser, and the ..." Quinn explained unto Freddie who nodded approvingly.

Neither of them was willing to listen to the unpatched voice of Jake and Lola. With Quinn's new technology, voice patching was possible even for a live audience.

Lola and Jake started to sing

* * *

_Hark now hear the angels sing a king was born today,_
_And man will live for evermore because of Christmas Day._
_Mary's boy child Jesus Christ was born on Christmas Day._

* * *

The audience applauded. Jake and Lola used the short break in order to make out.

* * *

_Oh a moment still worth was a glow, all the bells rang out,_
_There were tears of joy and laughter, people shouted_
_Let everyone know, there is hope for all to find peace._

* * *

When singing these lines, sirenes started to howl. The cotton swabs of the decoration were set ablazing. The audience fell into chaotic panic. Once more, the green screen activated itself.

"I told you that you rue the day!" Nevel Papperman screamed."You rue it! It's dystopia, Carly!"

Stacey squealed in agony when she deemed her artworks burst into flames. She collapsed in Spencer's strong arms.

Spencer carried Stacey safely out of the hall.

Dustin, Sam, and Freddie caught the fire extinguisher, they needed to save Carly, who was still on her moderator's seat, from the flaming inferno that was about breaking loose.

"The fire isn't real!" Carly remarked.

Having examined the situation closely, Quinn nodded. "This is _St. Elmo's fire_! A phenomen of plasm electricity!"

Indeed, Spencer's and Stacey's stage decoration was unscathed. Nevel had been fooling them again.

Nevel came in through the back entrance. "Have you rued the day?"

"Wow!" Quinn stepped up to Nevel. "You've tricked me for a moment into falling for St. Elmo's fire, one of the most simple scientific illusions! Nobody ever got me there. Youmust be a genius."

Nevel grinned. "How about a short genius-only conversation, somewhere beyond the backdoor? The unintelligent folk here doesn't need to know ..."

Quinn agreed cheerfully. Finally she had found a partner with whom intelligent conversation was possible. "Do you know that many female spiders eat their brood?"

Nevel nodded and smiled when he disappeared with Quinn beyond the backstage door, talking about scientific pathologies.

Carly grinned when she saw the nerds vanish, but she was sad because she couldn't complete her tasks as a Santa.

* * *

**3.2. Conclusion**

* * *

Jake followed Lola straight to Hollywood. Side by side, they would be starring in Malcolm Reese's upcoming movies _Suzannah Louisiana - The Worst of Both Worlds_ and _The Naked Sisters Band_

Dustin had to go home to his sister Zoey for Christmas. He sighed. "I wish I could stay with you over the holidays."

Carly was sad. "We'll see us soon again, I hope." Her face went crimson.

They gazed at each other with puppy eyes.

"Aw, they won't start weeping, will they?" Sam remarked sarcastically. "I guess Dorkward may finally give up on Carly." She grinned.

Freddie shrugged. "Who cares? I know a girl that would be much better for me."

Sam laughed. "And who would that be? I've never seen any girl that would ..."

Freddie didn't allow Sam to continue her words. He pulled her in for a kiss. "You don't have to say anything."

But remaining silent wasn't Sam's style. "I've been waiting for this moment for five long years!"

Carly left the lovebirds on their own and went to Spencer who had to announce something important. "Carly, I know it will be hard for you, but ... when Stacey is through art school, she will move in with me."

Carly didn't mind anymore, as Dustin made her swoon too much to care about Stacey and her cotton swab decoration.

* * *

**Appendix A. Appendix**

* * *

Table of Contents

**Glossary** :

* * *

**Glossary**

* * *

**Angelus Silesius** : :

Polish-German mystic and court medic, 1624-1677

**Sixtine Chapel** : :

A Roman chapel where the popes are elected, a major work of renaissance arts.

**St. Elmo's Fire** : :

A low-energy plasma phenomenon that is often mistaken as a serious fire.

**Perugino** : :

Renaissance artist, properly Pietro Vannucci, 1446-1524. His nativity scene in the _Sixtine Chapel_ is not preserved.

* * *

End file.

The Cotton Swab Christmas Tree by schillingklaus


Painter Girl

** Painter Girl**

* * *

**iKiss Spencer**

* * *

** Klaus Schilling **

* * *

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **iDon't Own any of the shows _iCarly_ and _Zoey 101_.

**Disclaimer: **iDon't Own any of the song _Painter Man_ by Boney M..

**Abstract**

**Fandoms: **_Zoey 101_, _iCarly_

**Genre: **Melodramatic Short Story, Fluff, Family, Friends, Arts

**Summary. **Carly hires Tasha's sister Maria for a gift for Spencer.

**Characters and Pairings: **Dustin Brooks/Carly Shay, Maria/Spencer Shay, Samantha Puckett/Fredward Benson, Harper/Lisa Perkins, Grandpa Shay, Mrs. Briggs, Principal Franklin, Tasha, Randy Jackson, Harry Joyner, Marissa Benson

**Timeline: **The story takes place post-series _Zoey 101_ and after second season of _iCarly_

**Note: **Maria is a one-time guest role of Nicole G. Anderson in _Zoey 101_ : _Quarantine_, Tasha is a cameo role of same actress in _iNevel_.

* * *

** New in Seattle**

* * *

Sam, Freddie, and Carly walked through the locker halls. They shuddered with disgust when they saw Tasha, the arrogant beast that had dared to call their web show uncool, just because there was no positive remark about it on Nevelocity.

Alas, Tasha was accompanied by a girl that looked very similar, they were probably related. She yelled at her.

Sam pitied the girl that was dragged around by Tasha.

The bell rang, and Carly, Freddie, and Sam were bound for their homeroom classes.

* * *

Mrs. Briggs, their homeroom teacher, came and looked around. She was very stern when it came to presence. Carly and Freddie still had a perfect prsesence record for this young year, unlike Sam who had already been late for three days straight. It was the forth day of the new year. "OK, it seems that everyone is here, so now I'm going to perform a tune on my bagpipes in order to make you familiar with fine arts. Today's youth is too much spoilt by electronic ear wax ..." She grabbed her instrument.

"Why doesn't she just beat us with a sledge hammer!" Sam moaned.

None of the students was at ease.

Suddenly, the door of the class room opened.

Principal Franklin walked in. "Excuse me, mam!"

Mrs. Briggs was flabbergasted.

"OK!" Mr. Franklin sighed. "I have got to bother you in order to introduce a new student teacher. This is Maria!" It was one of Mr. Franklin's habitual procedures to introduce new teachers in the various homerooom classes.

The girl in Tasha's likeness walked in through the door.

The students moaned. They were fed up with new teachers. Alas, they were happy because Mr. Franklin had interrupted Mrs. Briggs's terrific performance, making her sulk.

"Maria has just graduated from Pacific Coast Academy in California. Now she is a student at nearby Seattle's Arts School aka Harry-Joyner-School. You probably know her younger sister, Tasha, who is a junior in here, right now."

Carly grumbled. That explained their similarity ...

Mr. Franklin grinned. "Maria is an intern at Ridgeway. She will teach the arts elective."

Maria bowed to the students. "Hi!" she smiled in a friendly manner, totally unlike Tasha.

Carly suddenly had got an idea ...

* * *

In the beginning of the lunch break, Carly waited for Maria in the locker hall. "Hi! You're Maria, the new arts girl?"

Maria nodded solemnly. "Yeah, you are?"

"I'm Carly Shay, a soph." Carly sighed.

"Carly Shay?" Maria choked with awe. "As in iCarly?"

Carly nodded. She was astounded that Maria knew the webshow, given that she had used to live in California, and her sister Tasha certainly had never told Maria any kind words about _iCarly_. In addition, the web show was more geared towards younger viewers.

"Do you know that middle school boys at Pacific Coast Academy would kill each other for a date with you or Sam?" Maria chuckled.

"What? No? Really? Can't be ..." flabbergasted Carly stammered helplessly.

"For the girls of PCA Middle School, you're the great role model to live up to." Maria shrugged.

Carly felt flattered. "Er ... what I wanted to say ... My brother Spencer is soon going to turn 29, which is almost 30 ..." she stammered nervously.

"Cool!" Maria smiled.

"I'd like to give him a painting of myself ... but ... I'm only mediocre in drawing ... well ... and that stinks because Spencer is a great artist ..." Carly sighed with despair. "I'd pay you for a portrait of mine that would serve as a gift for Spencer ..."

Maria nodded. "OK, but I don't take money."

"No?" Carly twitched.

"Well, look, first, you can do better ... let me show some of my paintings in your web show!" Maria asked. "Second, it's great to see how much you love your brother. I can't say anything remotely alike about me and my sister Tasha ..."

"Maria! What are you doing?" Tasha thundered across the hall. "Get your lunch, hurry up, you frozen sloth!"

Maria waved at Carly. "See you tomorrow!"

Carly waved back and sighed. Apparently, not everyone in the world showed as much love for his or her elder siblings as Carly did.

* * *

** Carly dates Maria**

* * *

Sam tried to sneak into the Shays' apartment. Unfortunately, the door was still locked. She grabbed a curved wire in order to fix that insignificant problem.

Alas, Freddie heard her. He left left his apartment and faced Sam. "Hey!"

Sam hid the wire and whistled innocently. "Dorkward?"

"Carly isn't here, and Spencer is asleep." Freddie remarked.

"Oops ..." Sam choked. "Where is Carly?"

"She has gone somewhere with Maria." Freddie reported.

Sam sighed. "The arts lady?"

Freddie nodded solemnly.

"That's the third time this week that they are meeting after school!" Sam boomed.

Freddie sighed piteously because he felt left out..

"Just for the records ... she's never going to date you!" Sam bellowed.

"Who knows?" Freddie remarked in a dry manner. "At least she isn't dating a guy ..."

"True ..." Sam shrugged. "But, hey ... what if she isn't really into guys?"

"What do you mean?" Freddie felt flabbergasted.

"What if Carly is more attracted to girls?" Sam boomed.

"Do you want to say that ..." Freddie stammered.

"Would that be a problem for you, Fredweird?" Sam grinned sadistically.

Freddie banged his head against the wall. Had he really been lusting after a lesbian girl for half a decade? That was impossible.

"Awwwww..." Sam squealed hypocritically. "Who is going to be disappointed?"

Freddie pouted and was close to strangling Sam. "We've got to tell Spencer!"

Sam shrugged. "OK ..."

* * *

Having unlocked the door to Spencer's loft with a curved needle, Spencer and Sam snuck into the loft where they found Spencer sleeping on the couch.

Sam stepped next to the sleeping artist. "Spencer! Wake up! Spencer! Wake up!" she thundered at the top of her lung.

Spencer shrieked.

"Wake up!" Sam continued. "Shake your booty! Wake up! Shake your booty!"

Freddie smiled and clapped rhythmically to Sam's words.

Spencer jumped up and bounced arround with horror.

"Spencer, we've got to talk to you," Sam bellowed, "about Carly!"

Spencer trembled. "What has happened to her?"

Sam told Spencer about Carly meeting a girl regularly for a few days. "Sorry, but it seems that your little sister is ..."

"Nooooo!" Spencer whimpered with dismay. "Can't be! I haven't noticed that in years!"

Sam shrugged. "Nor did I, or Dorkoward," she moaned.

Speencer was consternated. "I'm such a bad brother!" He whimpered at the top of his lungs.

Mrs. Benson stormed into the loft. "Right, I always knew that!"

Freddie and Sam looked at Marissa with disgust. "You knew what? That Carly is gay?"

Marissa's eyes bugged out. "What? Freddie, if it's like that, you can't see Carly anymore! I can't allow you to meet a girl with a bad influence on you!"

Freddie was close to puking. Why could he never shut up when he needed to!

Sam grinned triumphantly.

"But I meant that ..." Marissa continued, "... I always knew that Spencer is such a poor excuse of a big brother. I guess your grandfather in Yakima will be greatly interested in hearing about it!"

Freddie and Sam sobbed piteously, as they regretted thoroughly having talked to Spencer about it.

* * *

** Showdown**

* * *

A few days later, Old Mr. Shay stormed Spencer's loft. "Artists!" He yelled at Spencer. "You decadent folks! What have you done to Carly?"

Spencer was consternated. "What?"

"It ain't no sense denying it," Grandpa bellowed, "you artists are a folk of gay drug users ... I should never have trusted you, and your father shouldn't have done so, either! In any case, you can't be any longer in charge with Carly!"

"But ... gramps, I still don't know what ..." Spencer shivered helplessly.

"If Carly has gone gay, the only possible culprit ..." Grampa concluded, "that's you! It wasn't enough for you to become a gay artist, you also had to spoil and corrupt your little sister!"

Spencer choked hard. Since when was he gay? He didn't know of it ... Well, Grandpa Shay had always had got a bunch of prejudices against artists, but he had never gone that far.

"Where is Carly?" Grampa bellowed. "I'm going to take her straight to Yakima. No negotiations!"

"But grampa, you ..." Spencer begged like a puppy, but in vain.

Finally, Carly returned from school. She was accompanied by Maria.

Grandpa grabbed Carly, and he insulted maria in any thinkable manner.

Maria was totally consternated. Was that old guy totally insane? Worse than Tasha?

Carly whimpered and begged, but for no avail. She was dragged to the door. She hoped for Specer's help.

Grandpa Shay threatened to call the police unless Carly followed him like a decent girl, or in case Spencer intervened.

Spencer started weeping insanely.

Grandpa Shay tried to open the door, but it was locked from the outside. "Hey! What's that?" He tried to pull violently at the handle, but for no avail. Then he dragged Carly to the elevator, but it didn't open at all. "What's going on here?"

Carly asked why Grandpa was that mad at Spencer and Maria.

"He thinks that ..." Spencer stammered helplessly.

Grandpa Shay explained the situation.

"I'm what?" Carly was consternated when she heard all that crap from her Grandad.

Maria was flabbergasted.

Carly sighed. "Do you really think that ..." She laughed heartily.

Spencer and Grandad looked dumbfounded.

"OK, I've been meeting Maria in order to ... well, it was planned as a birthday gift for Spencer, a surprise gift, but you force me to spoil the surprise ..."

Maria opened her bag and produced a painting, covered with some linen cloth.

Carly unwrapped the thing.

"A picture of Carly?" Grandad choked and coughed.

Maria nodded. "Carly told me to draw a painting as a gift for her brother ..."

Spencer was astounded. "Wow! My sweet little sister!" He huggled and danced with the picture.

Grandpa shrugged helplessly. "Sorry for all the fuss!" He sighed with despair. How could he ...

Suddenly, the elevator opened, and Freddie bounded in. He held a set of tools in his hand and grinned.

At the same time, the door to the staircase went open, apparently this was Sam's work.

Grandpa Shay still banged his head against the wall. Then he disappeared silently and returned to Yakima.

* * *

While Spencer still admired the picture, Maria followed Sam, Carly, and Freddie upstairs. "So, that's where you make _iCarly_?"

Carly nodded. "I think we may show three or four pictures in one session."

Maria beamed. "OK, so, I told you that some of the middle school boys at PCA ... and they even gave me some gifts for you."

"Cool!" Carly received a small sack from Maria and opened it.

Sam also received a sack with fan gifts, but this one was smaller than Carly's.

Freddie turned more and more jealous when he saw Carly smiling upon opening the fan gifts.

"That one is from some Dustin Brooks!" Carly shrugged. "Oh, he's the guy who wanted to see my tongue, zoomed and in slow-motion? He has got a theory about the size of the tongue and the kissing ability of a girl ..."

"Quirky ..." Sam remarked.

Freddie choked. "May I be your test rabbit?"

Carly chuckled. This was so transparent. "No way!"

Freddie sighed with despair.

* * *

Maria met Spencer when she descended into the kitchen. "Hi! So, you're a great artist?"

Spencer smiled. "I hope so ..." Then he showed Maria some of his sculptures.

"Cool!" Maria's eyes bugged out. "I bet not even Harry Joyner could do that ..."

Spencer smiled proudly. "You're going to be a professional artist, too?"

Maria shrugged. "I wish, but it's so hard to get a decent job as an artist. And I hate resorting to pornography and other perverse junk." She coughed.

Spencer sighed. He warpped his arms around Maria in a desperate attempt to comfort her. "Oops!"

"Oh Spencer ..." Maria smiled sweetly. "Are you and your fish still just friends?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, we are!"

Maria grinned.

The two young artists sat down - next to each other - and they cuddled while talking about modern arts.

* * *

Carly snuck to her computer and launched an interweb chat session. She contacted Dustin Brooks, the guy who was apparently interested in her tongue.

They had now been chatting for several hours.

"Carly!" Spencer whispered. "It's way past bed time!"

Carly yawned. "Dustin is so sweet!" She swooned ecstatically.

Spencer shrugged helplessly. He couldn't object as he had found a new love the same day as Carly ...

* * *

_iCarly_ has just gone online.

Sam introduced Maria as an upscaling painter.

Carly also introduced Harper, a friend of the show who was going to sing and play something while Maria presented her pictures.

Harper sang a song for Maria.
_Went to art school, studied arts,_
_To be an artist, make a start_
_Working hard for my degree_
_People didn't notice me._
_Painter Girl, Painter Girl_
_Who wants to be a painter girl?[[1]]_

* * *

Thereupon, Spencer and Maria dated regularly, while Carly chatted a lot with Dustin who made her swoon to no end. Harper started dating Maria's friend Lisa Perkins, a former competitor in Randy Jackson's _America Sings_ - they even founded a small band together.

Freddie and Sam felt totally left out. There was only one thing they were left with to do ...

"Kiss me, you dork!" Sam commanded Freddie.

* * *

[[1] ]based on _Painter Man_ by Boney M. which I don't own.

End file.

Painter Girl by schillingklaus