So, I actually got the idea for this while I was in the shower. It kept bugging me, so I HAD to right it down. This is my idea of what an average day of married life would be like for Freddie and Sam.
Hope you guys like it!
iLOVE THE AVERAGE DAY
Freddie Benson's alarm clock went off at six every morning, and he would slap the snooze button only once before getting up. The alarm would go off again fifty-five minutes later for Samantha Puckett Benson, after Freddie had taken his shower and gotten breakfast started. She would stumble into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, then stand in the doorway for a minute or two, soaking in the highly domestic image of her husband scrambling eggs, or turning pancakes. He would have already set a small plate of cold ham on the table for her, knowing it was her favorite meat.
Freddie would feel a light punch to the shoulder, then a soft kiss to his cheek. Sam would whisper something along the lines of "good morning" in his ear, stealing a piece of bacon from the plate he'd put it on next to the stove. Freddie would smile and turn around, the spatula in his hand, and make her give him a real kiss. They would stand there for a few moments, their lips pressed together as a warm, fuzzy feeling built up inside them, until Sam pulled away and said, "You're burning something." Freddie would then quickly turn around and slid something from the skillet to a plate.
After a delicious, healthy (Freddie insists) breakfast, Freddie would get get his things ready to leave for work. He was a computer analyst and data retriever for a large firm, and got paid extremely well. Sam would tell him his tie was crooked and fix it for him, and Freddie would straighten it himself after she turned away. He'd grab his suitcase and go to the door of their apartment, hesitating until she kissed him goodbye. Freddie would inform her he'd be home early, while she said she'd probably be home late.
After Freddie left, Sam would wander around the apartment, putting off going to work as long as possible. She wrote scripts and skits and helped produced a children's comedy show, almost like in the old days of doing iCarly. Eventually she'd pull on some plaid shorts and a tee shirt and head out, waiting until she was on the way to the studio to decide whether or not she was going to do something with her hair.
After a long day of digging through computer files, Freddie would return home to their apartment, pulling off his tie and hanging his jacket on the coat rack. Sometimes he would go hang out with Spencer, who still lived in Bushwell Plaza, until Sam got home. Most of the time he would get a head start on dinner, knowing Sam would be hungry when she returned home. Often he would answer the phone to Carly's voice, asking how he and Sam were doing. She'd tell them about her latest case in the law firm she was working at, and the next time she would be in town so they could get together for dinner. He'd hang up after a few minutes of talking, informing her that Sam would call once she got home.
Sam would come home about an hour later, usually slamming the door open and shut, raving about how she couldn't stand those bratty kids or that stupid director anymore and that she was going to quit the very next day. Freddie knew she was just blowing off steam and that she'd be back at work the next day, genius comidic ideas popping into her head as she talked to the small cast of the show.
They'd have a playful evening, usually with one or two small arguments that turned into them collapsed on the couch, laughing and kissing. Dinner would be served at seven, sometimes in front of the television. Afterwards they would talk about their day, and/or Sam would call Carly back to talk. They'd relax in the living room, Sam yelling at the TV now and then as Freddie read his latest book or tech magazine. Soon they wouldn't be able to contain themselves anymore, and they'd head to the bedroom, Freddie dropping Sam on the bed as she laughed at him.
It was quick and playful, or fast and rough, or slow and intense. But they always had their emotions running high, and neither doubted the other's love for them.
Around ten o'clock Sam would shower and come to bed, curling into Freddie in the middle of the bed. He would pull the covers over them, kissing the top of Sam's head.
"Today was a perfect day," Sam would say, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Freddie would laugh lightly, snuggling her close to him. "Just like every other."
Okay, guys, you gotta tell me what you think. I wrote it kinda quickly, so it may be a bit suckish. Hope you enjoyed it, though!