Disclaimer; I do not own David and Samantha. (=

A/N: Just something I thought would be fun to write. And as with all my story-writing projects, quickly got out of hand into something twice as long as originally planned. lol T__T

Enjoy, and please review!!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kitchen nightmare.

As soon as David stepped into the apartment he shared with his wife, he knew something was definitely not right.

For one thing, there was flour everywhere. In the living room, no less. It felt like it were December and Christmas had come seven months early.

And for another, he could distinctly smell the pungent odor of burning plastic.

Burning plastic? What on Earth…

"Sam? Sam, are you home?" called David, and raised an eyebrow at the trail of flour, leading from the kitchen to the centre of the living room to the telephone, to the bedroom, back to the phone and into the kitchen again.

"I'm in the kitchen!" echoed the voice of Sam, and David gingerly stepped into the kitchen to find Sam clod in a black apron, flour dusted over her pretty face and hands looking like they had been dumped into a vat of paper mache. Even here, the floor was dusted with flour and the smell of burnt plastic was overwhelmingly strong. And as David turned his head to the sink, he groaned as his eyes took in the mountain of plates, dishes, fry pans and chopping boards.

"Sam, what the hell have you done to our house?" questioned David with an adorably bemused smile.

"I was cooking." announced Sam proudly. "Can you believe it? Cooking. I never cook!"

"And this is exactly the reason why." cried David and he stretched his arms out in emphasis. Sam glared at David.

David took a step towards her, and asked, "I'm rather curious to know what exactly happened with the flour to have it absolutely swathe our apartment."

"You are exaggerating. It's a small trail. And it was an honest mistake."

David raised an eyebrow, expectantly.

"I was making scones, for your information, and the home shopping channel was on, and it was a funny coincidence, really, because I was having trouble peeling carrots, and at that exact moment, would you believe they advertised this fantastic peeler that I knew I had to have!"

"You were making scones, and you were peeling carrots. Carrot-flavoured scones." David rolled his eyes. "Go on."

"So I went to the TV to check the number to call, went to the phone to dial, realized I might need the number again, went to the bedroom to get a pen and back to the phone again. You'll be pleased to know that we have purchased the Incredible Vegetable Peeler for the low price of $12.95, not including postage and handling. Unfortunately, the bag of flour I was carrying had a very tiny hole in it which I didn't discover until I made my way to the kitchen. Only a small hole, though."

David groaned and took another step towards his flour covered wife.

"And why… why does our kitchen smell like plastic that has melted and burned?" he enquired.

"That," answered Sam, "would be the scissors. I left them on the stove. I forgot the stove was still on from the omelet. Don't worry; the scissors have been disposed of. And the omelet too."

David nodded and took another step closer to Sam, bringing the distance between the pair to just six inches. He bent his head to whisper into her ear, "And what exactly are we going to have for dinner tonight?"

Sam bit her tongue to stifle a laugh, and bent over to whisper into David's ear, "Hamburgers. From the shop down the street."

David's shoulders shook as he wrapped his arms around Sam's, as laughter ever continually threatened to escape, and felt Sam bury her head into his chest.

"Why am I not surprised." he murmured and broke apart to give Sam a quick peck on her cheek.

"I suppose we'll drive down in five?" asked David, to which Sam nodded in reply.

David smiled and made his way to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

He was just out of the kitchen doorway when Sam called his name.

"Mm?" he said, as he turned around.

Sam flushed a deep shade of red, strode over and pulled David's head down to meet hers. As they broke apart, she whispered, again in his ear, "David? It's your turn to do the dishes."