Author's Note: Hi everyone (: Moments here with my first ever iCarly fic! And only my second fanfiction over all. Not bad ;) Anyway, I hope you like this! This isn't exactly AU, but Sam and Freddie are dating.

Mr. Oink's Bacon Emporium

Freddie Benson taps his foot impatiently onto the sidewalk outside his apartment building complex, Bushwell Plaza. He checks his watch again, for about the third time in the last 2 minutes. 7:28. She's late. Again.

Street lamps begin to turn on, shining down like a spotlight and casting a yellow glow as the evening sky starts to darken. The gray clouds that seem to have taken up a permanent residence in the Seattle sky are shifting a bit, exposing slivers of pinks and purples and oranges; the colors of a sunset. There may actually be a few stars tonight. But Freddie is oblivious as his sense of annoyance grows. They're going to miss their reservations.

He whips the new pear phone out of the pocket of his neatly pressed khackis, dialing the familiar number of one of his two best friends.

"Hello?" She picks up after the third ring.

"Hey. Is she at your place?" He doesn't need to specify which she he's talking about. Carly knows.

"No..." His brunette best friend sounds confused. "Isn't she supposed to be meeting up with you? I thought you two had a date."

"Si." He sighs. "Key word: supposed to."

She laughs a musical laugh that not so long ago would have sent shivers down his spine. Now he just wishes it was the laugh of his other best friend, the blonde headed demon he's been waiting for. For almost half an hour. "She'll turn up, Freddie. Eventually."

"This year would be nice." He scans the area again, watching hoardes of people cross sidewalks and enter stores. Suddenly, he sees what he's been waiting for. A streak of familiar blonde hair, dancing like sunlight through the crowds. "I think I see her." He speaks into the phone, sounding distracted. "I better go."

"Told you so." And then a dial tone sounds and he's just shoving the phone back into his pocket as she appears in front of him, his own personal miracle.

"'Sup Benson." Her voice is nonchalant, as if nothing's wrong. And to her, probably nothing is.

But she wasn't the one waiting outside an apartment building in the freezing cold. So he glares at her, though he knows its useless. "You're late Sam." He glances at his watch. "32 minutes late, to be exact."

She shrugs. "I'm here now, aren't I? Now why don't we try that greeting again." She steps closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He knew he couldn't stay mad at her. Really, why did he even try? He doesn't attempt to fight the smile that spreads over his face as she touches her lips lightly to his. His strong arms wrap around her waist.

"I missed you."

She grins and steps back from him, sliding her arms down his shoulders to rest on newly toned biceps. "Yeah, yeah. Don't be such a sap. So what was so important that it required me to actually-" She widens her eyes in mock horror- "be on time?" She gestures to her ensemble in disgust. "And wear a dress?"

They start walking, and he catches her delicate hand in his bigger one. Strange that anything about Sam could be delicate, but her hands have always been small and smooth; one of his favorite things about her. She shoots him a look, like cool it with the PDA, but doesn't remove herself from his grasp. Good, he smiles to himself. They were making progress.

"We have reservations. Ones we can still make if we hurry." He answers. He looks at her, taking her in from head to toe. "Besides, I like your dress. It suits you."

Sam rolls her eyes. "I could wear a burlap sack and you would say it suited me."

"Probably." Freddie agrees. "But only because you're gorgeous no matter what you wear." Sam shoves his shoulder, only semi-playfully, but he can tell she's fighting a smile. A small, rosy blush creeps up her cheeks at his compliment.

Its true, though. Sam's beautiful, with her rosebud lips and glossy blonde curls and big blue eyes. Especially tonight, in a navy blue dress that Carly probably forced her into earlier today. It clings to her body in all the right places, showing off curves and mile long legs. Of course, he'd never actually SAY these things to Sam. She would probably just perform one of her double fist face dances. But he notices. He notices everything about her.

And apparantly he's not the only one. Random dudes were staring at her, giving her the once-over. With any other girl, Freddie would have been jealous. But Sam wasn't just any girl, and he knew that she would never notice all the attention she received. It was one of the many endearing yet exasperating facts about her that she nearly always undervalued herself in the looks department. And if you tried to tell her otherwise...well lets just say Freddie was still sore from the last time he had attempted to win that arguement. That didn't mean he would stop trying, though. He would never stop trying to make Sam see herself the way he saw her.

Not that Freddie's a beast or anything. Puberty finally decided to pay him a visit, and his many visits to the gym have paid off. He is wearing a nice outfit that, though he will never admit it to Sam, he had Carly help him pick out. Pressed khacki pants, courtesy of Mom, and a dark green polo shirt adorn his newly filled out body. He wore the shirt specifically for Sam, because she bought it for him and it is her favorite. She says the color brings out the green in his eyes, or something like that.

It always amuses Freddie to think that to the world they probably look like any two teenagers in love. Going on a date somewhere, holding hands, it was all such normal couple-ey stuff. Yet underneath the surface, Sam and Freddie are about as unlikely a pairing as you could ever find. Freddie thinks that maybe that's what makes them work; the fact that they are both so different. Sam is irresponsible and vicious and really needs to buy a watch, but underneath that tough exterior is a vulnerable, big heart and he can't think of one other person he'd rather be with.

The computer nerd and the blonde headed demon. Who would've thought.

Freddie is brought, rather abruptly, out of his thoughts when Sam stops dead, slamming him into the business man walking at a brisk pace in front of them. He's talking on a cell phone and turns around to glare at the couple, as if they just interrupted a matter of life and death. Freddie swears he hears the man mutter "Sorry, Mom, just a couple of teenagers." as he walks away.

"SAM!" He complains, rubbing his now sore forehead from where he banged into Mr. Cellphone. "What was that for?"

"SHHH!" She reaches back one finger, placing it in front of his lips as if to silence him. "Don't speak, Fredducuni. I think I might be hallucinating."

"YOU'RE hallucinating? I'm the one who just slammed into another person!"

"Oh, don't be such a pansy!" She waves a hand in front of his face in an attempt to shush him. "You'll be fine."

He glares at her. "What are you even loo- oh." Halfway through the sentence, he finally turns to stare across the street and pinpoint the magical place that had caught his girlfriend's attention.

It was magical, all right. At least, it would be in Sam's opinion. Because Freddie is staring across the street at Mr. Oink's Bacon Emporium.

Great. Now they were never going to make their reservations.

Because Sam is already on the move, tugging Freddie across the street, narrowly missing being hit by screeching cars and taxis as they swerve to avoid the two stupid teenagers who decided to jaywalk at a green light. Finally, thankfully, they reach the other side. Sam stares at the large building in awe.

In Freddie's opinion, its nothing special. Nothing he would notice while hurrying down the busy streets. Mr Oink's is a large warehouse, the white sign announcing the name standing out against the grimy, gray backdrop of the building. A cardboard cutout of their mascot, a fat, pink pig with a grease-stained apron holding a frying pan and a spatula, welcomes everybody inside the glass automatic doors.

"Now that's just cruel." Freddie thinks out loud.

"What?" Sam looks at him as if he's crazy.

"Its a bacon emporium, Sam! Why would they have a pig as their mascot? Do you think the pigs are HAPPY that this place was invented?"

Sam shakes her head. "All I heard in that sentence was bacon emporium. Let's go inside."

"But Sam! Our reservations! And, you know, this whole place looks kind of sketchy. And dirty."

"My house looks kind of sketchy and dirty! Now let's go inside!" And before Freddie can protest she's grabbing his hand again and pulling him through the automatic doors with a force only Sam could muster.

Now, depending on who you ask, the inside of the warehouse is either much, much better than the exterior or much, much worse.

According to Sam, it is absolutely beautiful. They had entered into the heart of the emporium, and they faced rows and rows and rows of shelves containing unopened packets of bacon. The shelves were arranged by country, with a little, peeling flag at the end of each row to let you know what you were dealing with. Within each country, they were arranged, in alphabetical order, by type of bacon. There were different sizes and combo packs and all you can eat options. Sam wondered if they really had been hit by a car on the way over here, and she'd died and gone to heaven.

Along one far wall was a large, cut out window that led back to the kitchen. Above the cut out were signs, glowing all sorts of different colors, announcing the prices. Once you had selected your bacon, you brought it back to this cut out, handed it to the kitchen, and voila! Your very own piece of wonderful. Along the opposite far wall, the other end of the rectangular building, stood little picnic tables.

To Sam? It is like living a dream.

To Freddie? It is a nightmare. The whole place is over air conditioned, sending goose bumps up his arm and chills down his spine. There is also the overpowering stench of bacon, which to Sam is probably like perfume but it just makes Freddie want to sneeze.

Don't get him wrong, Freddie likes bacon just as much as the next guy. But he had worked hard to get those reservations, they had taken effort. The Olive Pit was relatively new, and it was already one of the most popular resteraunts in Seattle. Dinner for two on a Saturday night? Forget it. Freddie'd had to call in a month ahead to even find a time slot.

But one look at Sam's beaming face and he knew that argueing would be pointless. A nagging voice in the back of his head also told him that Sam was way happier here than she ever would have been at the Olive Pit.

And all Freddie Benson really wants is for Sam Puckett to be happy, so he smiles down at her and says "Let's go choose some bacon."

And Sam is off, running down the aisles like a little kid in a candy store. She weaves through the people in the reasonably crowded emporium and Freddie once again is reminded of how bright and beautiful she is, of how her bouncing golden curls really do look like streaks of sunlight.

Her laughing voice makes its way back to him. "Are you coming, Frednub? We've got a lot of emporium to cover."

He laughs. "I'll catch up with you in a minute." He pulls out his pearphone, again, dials the familiar number of his best friend, again, and waits for her to answer, again.

This time the phone only rings once before she picks up. "Freddie?"

"I want you to take my reservations at the Olive Pit."

"What?" Carly sounds surprised, something he can't really blame her for. She knew how excited he'd been to take Sam there. "Why?" There's a pause. "Oh, no!" She sounds as if realization has struck, and her voice darkens. Freddie highly doubts she's reached the correct conclusion. "She never showed up, did she? Oh, she is going to get it the next time I see her! How could she stand you up like that?"

Freddie laughs. "Carly! Calm down. She didn't stand me up. In fact, she was standing right next to me a minute ago."

"Oh." His brunette best friend sounds relieved. "Good. Because, you know, I don't think I'd really be able to teach Sam a lesson. So then why," And here the confusion returns. "do you want me to take your reservations?"

"We found something better." This sentence leaves his mouth through gritted teeth.

Carly sounds incredulous. "Better than the Olive Pit?"

"Sam found a bacon emporium."

"I see." That's really all the explanation Carly needs. "Aw, I'm sorry Freddie. I know how much you were looking forward to this."

Freddie lets out a breath. "Don't worry about it. I just don't want our reservations to go to waste. They are for 8, if you leave now you can still make it. Take Spencer, or Gibby."

"Well, if you're sure..." Carly all of a sudden sounds about 100x happier. "Ok! I better go get changed then! What am I going to wear? Thanks so much Freddie, and try to have fun anyway." And then there's a bubble of noise and a muffled scream of 'SPENCER!' before the dial tone sounds.

Well, if he isn't going to get to go to the Olive Pit, at least Carly will be able to.

Sam comes streaking up the aisle, cradling packets of bacon in her arms. Her eyes are shining and her smile stretches across her entire face, and seeing her this happy almost makes up for missing their reservations. Almost.

She's running, running right towards Freddie. His eyes widen and before he can realize what's happening he's lying on the ground and Sam is sitting on top of him, her legs straddling his waist.

His blonde headed demon has tackled him. Right there in the middle of the bacon emporium.

"Sam!" He complains, watching as all of her bacon slides across the concrete floor. A concrete floor that, might he just add, was not too fun to fall on. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You're being boring!" She rolls her eyes. "Here we are in a bacon emporium, and you're talking on your phone! Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I put up with you." But she leans over and kisses his nose before untangling their limbs and standing up. "Come on, Fredalupe, I know that somewhere, deep, deep down, there's a part of you that knows how to have fun."

"Of course I know how to have fun. I am the king of fun." He grabs the hand she's offering him and tries not to be amazed by her strength as she pulls him easily to his feet.

She snorts. "Right, and Gibby isn't a freak."

"Just grab your bacon, Puckett."

"Not without you, Benson."

And partly because every day with Sam Puckett is an adventure, and Freddie never quite knows what to expect, but mostly because he doesn't want to be tackled again, he has no other choice than to follow her demands and fill up his arms with as much bacon as he can hold.

They go to the check out counter and choose which bacon to fry, and which to take home. Just for something new, they take all the foreign bacon they bought, with names they can't even pronounce, and bring it to the fry cook. The rest of Sam's choices are safely bagged and handed back with a "Have an oink-tacular day" and a smile.

The couple walks to a picnic table in the back, Sam hugging the bacon like precious cargo. "Come to Mama!"

They feed each other pieces of bacon. Some of it is so awful that they can only compare the taste to the moldy hair on Lubert's wart. Some of it is so wonderful, Sam gets choked up and can't speak for a few moments. They laugh and tell jokes and smile. They disagree on which bacon is the best and Freddie rolls his eyes when Sam gobbles up all the Bolivian bacon before he can even snatch a piece. They are dysfunctional and crazy, but they are Sam and Freddie and they both know they are lucky to have found each other.

When their plates are empty and their stomachs are full, they remain at the table and just talk. The light catches on Sam's hair and bounces off her shiny, greasy fingers, and Freddie realizes how out of place they must look, sitting at a grimy picnic table in their fancy, Olive Pit worthy clothes. She's laughing at a joke he just told, and he's grinning from ear to ear, and without really thinking about it he leans across the table and catches her with a kiss, just because he can.

She tastes like a strange combination of every piece of bacon they just ate, and it's actually kind of disgusting but Freddie doesn't care because there is nothing on this Earth he loves more than kissing Sam Puckett. Her fingers tangle in his hair and his leave grease stains on her cheeks. It is one of those perfect, beautiful kisses where everything explodes with color and sound and you feel like every single part of you is alive and dancing.

They pull away when they can no longer and breathe and she leans back, laughing a little. Her skin is flushed and her eyes are shining. "What was that for?"

For you. For us. For everything we are. For your spontanity and my sensibility and the fact that we are the most chaotic couple, but I love that and I love you. "Nothing." He smiles, grabbing her hand from across the table and enclosing it in both of his. "Just...this is better than the Olive Pit."

Sam leans forward until their forheads are touching, their faces impossibly close. "Mama knows best."

And then she kisses him again.

Well, there you have it! I don't really know if I like the way the ending turned out, but maybe I'm just being over critical of my work. What do you think? Love it, hate it, want a refund of all the minutes you just wasted reading this? Let me know in a review! Constructive criticism is always appreciated, and I am always looking for ways to improve my writing (:

Also, if any House of Anubis fans are reading this, you should check out my other piece "Innocent". Its the first fanfic I ever wrote, and I would love to know what you think of it!

-Moments