1,081Calorie's Of Pure Love, an icarly fanfic

1,081-Calorie's Of Pure Love

In honor of Jack-In-The-Box's new "Bacon Milkshake" I just had to put this little lark of an idea out for you gentle readers. Part of The Cabal Valentine mass postings.

In sweatpants, "Hard To Die" t-shirt and house shoes, Fred Benson shambled to his car and with a big yawn, unzapped the door and sat down in the seat and closed the door again.

He had known by the time High School was over that his life was going to end up like this. No one could be in love with Sam Puckett and expect a normal life. She had turned him into a crazy, on the edge lunatic who never knew one minute to the next what life held for him. He was unsure of where his life was going, but as long as the crazy blue eyed blonde with a mind numbing thirst for life was going with him, he could care less.

They had lived together thru college and had become the life of the whole campus during their four years there. Their love was, and still was, legendary. Carly, along with her partner Kelly had planned the wedding and on the second of June, two thousand and twenty-two, Fredward Nathan Benson and Samantha Jennette Puckett married in the park of Washington State Community College in front of over a thousand guests, and that was when the adventure really began.

With a change in name only, Sam Benson took Fred Benson and led him into the wild and wonderful world that loving her meant. Midnight trips to the roof of the apartment they lived in for love making under the stars, love making in bathrooms at clubs and restaurants they went to, a particularly memorable night at a charity event for his then boss, that involved her sitting on his lap and the large flowing skirt that she wore. He had somehow managed to carry on a conversation with his boss, while pleasuring his wife.

Five years of adventures like that had led to the adventure that was now playing out at two-thirty-eight in the morning. He smiled as he pulled around to the entrance of the building and saw the five-two one hundred and seventy-two pound blonde waddle her way toward the car. She was beautiful all the time, but carrying his child, she was exquisite and he felt a warm rush through his privates that he knew would be at least six to eight weeks before anything could be done about.

Sam smiled at him, they had mad psychic skills with each other, and placed a hand on his "package" and leered at him, "Pervert, I'm about to pop and you get a hard-on, well after we get back home maybe mamma can "rub" you the right way," she licked her lips and he felt the blood rush to "momma's helper", so named because Sam wanted it that way, and he helped her into the car before throwing the bags in the back . Anything Sam wanted she got, he was sure it was a law, it had to be. No one who knew Sam could tell her no, NO ONE!

He pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, her left hand in his right hand, "Well momma, this is the last time we ever ride alone, at least for a long, long time anyway."

"Nervous?"

"What if I'm a horrible father? What if he hates me? What if…?" Fred had hardly started on the list of "What if?" that was playing through his mind when he felt her tiny hand squeeze his as hard as she could. He knew the contraction must be a bad one because she sucked in air and breathed it out in short quick bursts as a look of fear crossed her eyes.

Suddenly all the worries he had about being a father disappeared and were replaced with worry for the lynch-pin of his life, the small, slightly round at the moment blonde who made everyday such a joy and gave him a reason to get up every morning.

Her hand relaxed and the glow and smile returned to her face, "See even John knows that that is bullshit and didn't want to hear it," she leaned up and turned the radio on as she talked, "You'll be as good a father as you are a husband and lover, which means you'll be the best father EVER! Anyone who can rock momma's world so hard for as long as we've been together could ever be anything but the best," she smiled and lost herself in some wing of her memory, as she thought of how contented and happy the man who held her hand had made her.

The song on the radio ended and a commercial began:

"Welcome back to "Jack Knows You," the announcer said in tried and true fashion, "before the break Darrel was one question away from the grand prize, so Jack are you ready?"

"Always Ken."

"Great, here we go: Darrel thinks that this food item can make anything taste better? Name that food."

"That's easy Ken, bacon and that's why for a limited time I've brought back the "Bacon Milkshake", because you can never have too much bacon."

Sam heard nothing after bacon milkshake. Another contraction hit and she did her breathing till it passed and then looked at Freddie.

He looked at her, "Oh hell no Sam, you're in labor for god's sake, and I'm not stopping for a bacon flavored milkshake."

Saying nothing at all she just stared at him.

"No, no, no, no, not by the hair of my chinny chin chin will I stop," he shook his head violently for effect and she stared at him.

"Damn it Sam I'm putting my foot down," he gritted his teeth, "No Fucking way!"

And still she stared.

He began to mumble to himself, "In labor with my child and could pop at any minute and she wants a god damn bacon flavored milkshake."

And she stared at him still.

"I'm not caving on this one Sam, I mean it!"

Still staring.

"No Sam, you're off your rocker if you think I'm changing my mind."

S*T*A*R*I*N*G

stare (stâr)

v. stared, star·ing, stares

1. To look directly and fixedly, often with a wide-eyed gaze. See Synonyms at gaze.

2. To be conspicuous; stand out.

3. To stand on end; bristle, as hair or feathers.

To look at directly and fixedly: stared him in the eyes.

An intent gaze.

She stared at him.

Twenty-two minutes later Freddie rushed into the hospital and got a wheelchair for Sam, who sat in the car with her two large bacon flavored milkshakes eating curly fries.

Hope you got a kick of this. As always, let me know what you thought about it.

~The CABAL~

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