(A/N: OMG you guys, can we just take a moment to take a look at something? I was in the middle of writing this story when I checked Twitter, and Nathan Kress had just posted his response to the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. Go watch it. Come back. IS YOUR HEAD NOT EXPLODING? Helloooo, Freddie. Okay, that is all, read the story now.)
Disclaimer: Even after all this time, even in a story set in the future, I still don't own iCarly. *crawls away to weep silently in a corner*
"I thought this was going to be a nice project we could work on together. Why do I have to decorate the nursery all by myself?" Freddie was a little hurt to have his expectations dashed. Was he a husband, or hired help? "You could at least pick the colors, or something."
"I can't be around paint and glue fumes. I'll hurl everywhere," Sam said, taking a huge bite of ham. She was lounging on their living room couch, her favorite location during her second trimester. Actually, it was always her favorite location.
Freddie gave her a Look. "Because clearly, your stomach is just volcanic right now."
"I gotta get it in me when I can!" she protested, gesturing to her midsection with the bone. "This little bugger is pickier than my mom during bikini shopping season."
"So… not picky at all."
"Nope, I can eat whatever I want and it's amazing," she smirked.
He crossed his arms. "Then I really don't understand why I have to be the one- hey!" Freddie just barely dodged the ham bone Sam chucked at his head.
Sam pouted. "Pweeease? Do it for the unborn child. If we have a girl or a sassy gay baby, it'll love that it has a dad who designed its room."
"Okay, first, that's not politically correct. And second, fine! I'm not arguing about this. But I'm also not going to like it." Freddie sighed and joined his wife on the couch.
She winked at him, rubbing her stomach. "Thanks, daddy. I knew you'd cave."
How the heck am I supposed to do this? Freddie wondered, sitting down at his computer. Zaplook it is.
A few articles suggested he do first what he'd mentioned to Sam: pick the colors. He also gathered that if there were to be any kind of theme, it made logical sense to decide that first too. It made things harder not knowing the baby's gender, but he was impressed with the ideas he was finding for gender-neutral rooms. He knew that even though they didn't talk about it much, he and Sam didn't want to impose too many socially-constructed gender expectations on their child as it grew up. If they had a daughter who wanted to be a rocket scientist, she could. If they had a son who wanted to be a yoga instructor, he could. Freddie thought about these things as he scrolled down his current search. How can I make this room reflect who we are as a family?
If only Carly were around. Ever since she'd moved to DC for her job achieving world peace, or whatever it was that she exactly did, her visits to the couple had been few and far between. She would've been all over this if she could've done it thought Freddie wistfully. But that didn't matter now. There was no sense in using Carly's distance as an excuse to procrastinate the task at hand. Maybe it could be enjoyable, if he did it right.
A week later, Freddie found himself at Joe's Home Decorating shop, giving one of the employees an idea of the vision he had. It seemed doable.
"Is your husband at work?" the clerk asked politely, trying to make conversation as they looked at paint swatches.
Freddie groaned. Not again. "My wife is at home resting, and she wants nothing to do with this project. She's made it her one pregnancy wish that I do this for her."
"Oh, excuse me," the clerk was flustered. "I made an assumption…"
"Yeah, you're not the first."
It took about an hour to get everything the nursery was going to need, minus actual baby items like the crib. Here goes nothing Freddie thought.
The project took about two months' worth of Freddie's free time to complete, and not without more comments like the one from the Joe's employee. You'd think people would be more open to a husband taking on stereotypically "girly" tasks! So much for the 21st century. The strange part, though, was that once Freddie got into it he kind of liked it. Why was it somehow so fun to paint things and use power tools? Was his life really lacking creativity so badly that creating a nursery was one of his favorite things he'd ever done?
True, it probably helped that it was for his own child. It gave him chills to think about actually holding his baby there in that room, putting it to sleep in the crib, playing games with it as it grew up. His and Sam's child. Building the nursery made it seem the realest it had been yet.
Just before the Great Nursery Unveiling, Carly arrived for Sam's surprise-baby-shower-that-wasn't-really-a-surprise-because-she-kind-of-hated-surprises. Freddie knew that her last surprise party, so many years before, had left a bad taste in her mouth about such things. He'd been surprised himself when she told him she didn't want to learn the gender of their baby until it was born. "Because," she'd explained, "that's one surprise I get to have control over, and it's about something important. Not the dumb kind of surprise like Gibby jumping out of a birthday pie."
That logic made sense to Freddie, and he agreed that it would be nice to wait to find out. It seemed like hardly anyone did that these days. As a result, the baby shower was very purple. Carly insisted it was a mix of pink for a girl and blue for a boy, and since she took care of all the planning neither Benson protested. One less thing to worry about.
The shower itself was a small affair. Only their closest friends had been invited, as Sam preferred it that way. But now that things were winding down, she was getting antsy to see the baby's room. So what if she hadn't wanted to be involved? She was going to be spending a lot of time in there. What if Freddie did a crappy job and it made her want to vomit? Not to mention, Carly was just about jumping out of her skin to see the room. It needed to be resolved NOW.
"Freddieeeee," Sam whined, dragging her husband over to the nursery door. "Can we go in now? This is dumb. I need to put away all the baby items we just got."
"Please please please let me see it!" Carly chimed in, having followed Sam.
"Um, okay," said Freddie nervously. "I'm warning you, I've never done anything like this before. But I think it turned out alright. I guess you two can be the judge of that." Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle and opened the door. "There it is."
The girls stepped through the doorway and went silent. The walls had been painted a soft dove gray, with yellow and white chevron accents; just the right amount of visual interest without being overpowering. The wooden crib in the center of the room had been painted white, and hanging above it was a custom-made mobile. Amongst other things, there was a tiny locker with "239" painted on it, a smaller version of Sam's iCarly remote, and a plastic meatball hanging from the mobile. Everything on it was representative of their lives together.
Against the only wall with a window, Freddie had set up a changing table area, complete with fully stocked shelves underneath it. It stood right in a beam of sunlight that came through the glass. Opposite the window, on the other side of the room, was a cozy-looking corner with a yellow rocking chair on a gray throw rug. A small bookshelf with several children's books already on it sat next to the chair, and a stuffed purple porcupine looked quite at home on top of the shelf. What caught Sam's eye, though, were the words he had painted along the top of the wall above the rocking chair. Did I tell you it's not that bad sitting over here dreaming?
Sam's eyes began to dampen, and she coughed uncomfortably. "Stupid pregnancy hormones! They sneak up on you and hit you like a butter sock."
Carly, meanwhile, had been watching Sam take in the room. "Mm-hmm, that's exactly it," she said smugly. "Freddie, you really did do a great job in here! It's perfect for you two, and perfect for the mystery baby."
"Thank you," said Freddie self-consciously. "I'm glad you guys think it looks good."
"Ooh!" said Carly suddenly. "Wait a minute, I need to go get my camera to document this!" She darted out of the room, on a mission.
"So… I have to run something by you." Freddie said to Sam, taking advantage of Carly's momentary absence. "See, I liked this project enough, and I did a good enough job that, well… I'm thinking of doing some freelance interior design work on the side." Freddie cringed, waiting for his wife's reaction.
Her eyes widened. "That might be THE nerdiest thing you've ever said, Fredwad, and that's saying a lot." He sighed. He'd expected this. "But," she continued, "I find it weirdly adorable, and if you like it, then… whatever. Do what makes you happy and stuff."
Now it was Freddie's turn to gape. "Are you serious?" he asked.
"Yeah, man," Sam shrugged. "Oh hey. The kid agrees with me." Sam took Freddie's hand and placed it on her belly. "See? Kicks of approval."
Freddie's face slowly widened into a grin as he gazed at Sam and felt the baby moving around. "This is why I love you."
"Love you too, weirdo," she replied, biting back her own grin. "Just don't let Carly hear me getting all mushy."
"Mushy about what?" Carly popped her head around the corner, then laughed at the pair before her as they jumped apart. "You two are disgustingly cute. Someone get me a barf bag, I forgot to grab one on the plane."
"It's not what it looks like!" said Sam defensively, mostly out of habit. "He was just… he was telling me about his dorky designer career!"
"Career?" asked Carly.
"On the side. Which Sam is choosing to support, might I add," said Freddie wryly. Then he dug around in his pocket for something. "Actually, can I get both your opinions on this? I printed up a sample business card. How does it look?" he asked, finding it and handing it to Sam.
"'F. Benson'?" she read, snickering. "You can't put that on there, that's my job."
"Sam! Don't say things like that!" Freddie turned a delicate shade of red as Carly rolled her eyes.
"Oh, I'm seven months pregnant! I think the people know what we do!" Sam retorted. "Anyway, you might want a first name on there. There's a very real chance you'll get mistaken for a woman."
"I think Sam's got a point on this one," Carly winced. "But other than that, it's adorable and you should go for it. I'm glad you found such a nice… pastime?"
"As long as it doesn't keep him away too much," said Sam protectively. "I'm not raising this kid by myself."
"Of course not." Freddie kissed her on the forehead. "We're in this, and everything, together."
"Dibs on being godmother!" Carly interjected.
Sam smiled at her. "Sure thing, kiddo. You're a part of this family too. It might be different now, but there'll always be us three. That's just the way it is."
Carly grabbed both her friends into a group hug. "You guys," came her muffled voice, "are the best."
"We know," they responded in unison.
(A/N: I apologize for any OOCness as their adult selves. It's been a while since I've written them. But wow, it feels good to be back, if only for a moment. I miss the Seddie community a lot! You guys are my favorites. It makes me smile when I still get alerts and favorites and reviews for stories that are long since finished. This one was for you, dear readers, and I hope that this will not be the last.)