AN: It is true. I have bitten by this iCarly bug. Here's how it went down: My kid sister has been a fan since the first season but I didn't start getting into it until one day, I was watching TV with her and first heard Nathan's hunky voice and was all "AGHJDSLKKJ, HOW DID I MISS THIS!" It was then that I made a point to watch all the episodes - the Freddie/Seddie bits, like, multiple times. And then I've seen all the podcasts, iCarly extras, mebejennette videos and pretty much anything else I could get my hands on. It's a sad, sad thing.

But I guess I've always been a Seddie shipper, even before my current obsession, since I remember seeing them bicker in one of the earlier episodes and carelessly said to my sis, "They're gonna hook up," before walking away. Oh, if only I had known...

Sorry if some of you were expecting an "All American Boy?" update...this just would not let me go. I've been reading Seddie fics for a couple of months and I just really wanted a crack at it. Yeahhh, so I'll just stop rambling now...Enjoy!

As she waited for the next batch to finish baking, Samantha Puckett dipped a chocolate cupcake into the pan of vanilla icing. Pulling it out after a couple of seconds, she then appeared to contemplate the treat before promptly stuffing the entire cupcake into her mouth. Cheeks bulging and lips frosted, Sam gazed heavenward and sighed contentedly.

Then, as if planned purposely to ruin her moment, the doorbell rang. Sam sighed once more, only with annoyance this time. Taking a huge gulp, Sam yelled out, "No one's home!" but the dork behind the door ignored her.

As Fredward Benson walked into the Shay apartment, he was greeted with the odd - yet not-so-odd - sight of a lone Sam gorging on cupcakes. Slowly closing the door behind him, he gave Sam a puzzled look. She stared back blankly, a vanilla-and-chocolate goatee outlining her lips.

"You've got some...stuff..." Freddie tapered off, motioning toward his mouth.

"I realize," said Sam shortly. She made no motion to wipe it off.

Freddie merely shrugged and walked toward the counter. "Where's Carly?" he asked, as he helped himself to a cupcake.

"Your precious Carly is upstairs, being lame and finishing up her homework," Sam replied, finally wiping her face. Freddie was surprised to note that she used a napkin, for once, instead of the back of her hand. When her mouth was presentable, she looked at Freddie with her classic poker-face and said, "Guess you're just going to have to do with little ol' me."

"I think I'll survive," said Freddie, smirking slightly and maintained eye contact. Sam was the first to look away, a tiny smile tilting the corners of her lips.

Freddie knew that Sam feigned impassiveness and that at least a small part of her actually cared whether Freddie minded hanging with her sans Carly. Ever since their spontaneously intimate conversation and subsequent kiss on Freddie's fire escape a couple weeks earlier, neither could deny the small yet perceptible changes taking place in their relationship. The extremely uncharacteristic display of affection was actually meant to be nothing more than pact, a way for two socially-pressured teenagers to overcome that stupid obstacle of the first kiss. Nothing was supposed to change, as the parties in question had firmly agreed to go back to "hating each" other as normal. In fact, immediately after the deed was did, Sam and Freddie had exchanged appropriate "I hate yous," but the pair could already feel it. Sam's physical outbursts would be replaced with good-natured ribbing. Loathing glares would be replaced with teasing expressions. Constant bickering would be...well, they knew some things would never change.

Maybe they weren't about to declare their undying love for one another, but they were about twelve steps closer to - dare they say it - genuinely appreciating each other's company. And maybe, they mutually felt but didn't dare to discuss, that sort of change wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"So she's doing her homework, huh," said Freddie as he reached for another cupcake. He took a bite and savored the taste. He continued thickly, "On a Saturday morning? Even I don't do that."

"Dude, that's what I said!" said Sam loudly, excitedly slapping the counter top. "I told her, 'I bet Freddie's not even nubbish enough to start his homework that early,' but she just gave me a look and started talking about how she was sick of procrastinating all the time and that she promised herself she'd finish all her homework in one sitting. Then, she started yelling at me for talking so much and sent me downstairs" - at this point, the oven buzzed and Sam walked over to take the new batch out. Freddie, who had been discreetly eying the last cupcake, quickly shoved it in his mouth while Sam's back was turned - "so I made cupcakes for the last two hours." She pried cupcakes from the pan and placed them systematically on the plate.

"Ah," said Freddie, helping Sam refill the cupcake plate. "Should we take some up to her?"

Sam had tried this. The memory of Carly screeching at Sam for distracting her from matrices and their determinants was still quite vivid. "Sure, why don't you take a plate?"

Freddie piled a couple of cupcakes onto a saucer and went upstairs. Sam counted down mentally before Carly's voice reverberated throughout the apartment.

"FREDDIE, I'VE GOT A RESEARCH PAPER TO FINISH AND I'M NOT LEAVING THIS ROOM UNTIL I DO, SO QUIT BUGGIN' ME!"

Sam snickered and continued to do so when Freddie ran back down, the cupcakes still in hand. He glared at Sam. "You know, you could have told me that was going to happen."

Sam grinned cheekily. "I could have, but what's the fun in that?"

Freddie gave his patented sour look, one that he reserves only for Sam, as he grabbed another cupcake.

--

Half an hour and three dozen cupcakes later (twenty-two for Sam, fourteen for Freddie), Sam and Freddie were bursting at the seams.

"Ugh," Sam moaned, clutching her stomach. "I don't think I can take another bite."

Freddie, who was hunched over the counter, struggling to finish up his last cupcake, looked over at Sam incredulously. "You can't take another bite? Wow, Sam, I don't think I've seen you this full since that time we ate all those pies."

"Ughh," Sam moaned again, louder this time. "Don't remind me! So what are we going to do with the rest of the cakes? We can't just let 'em go to waste."

The two thoughtfully regarded the five remaining cupcakes for a moment before the same idea crossed their minds at virtually the same time. They slowly met each other's gaze and grinned.

"CUPCAKE SLAM!" the duo yelled in gleeful unison.

"All right," Freddie said, charged. He'd never admit it to Sam but competing with her had always filled him with a sort of high he can't get anywhere else. "Terms?"

"Hm," said Sam, considering the best possible punishment - one that Freddie would absolutely hate if he lost, but one that wouldn't faze Sam much if she lost. Her eyes wandered over to the jar of pickles on the counter and she snapped her fingers. "Loser has to drink pickle juice," she said with mock-disgust. It was actually her second-favorite beverage.

"Gross," said Freddie happily. "You're on." He extended his hand over the icing.

Resisting the urge to lick her hand, Sam shook his. "Ready to eat my crumbs, Benson?"

Freddie laughed derisively. "Oh please, Puckett. After my cupcake is done with your cupcake, your cupcake will be bleeding pink frosting."

Feeling particularly brave, Freddie swiped his index finger through the sugar-rich glaze and dabbed at Sam's nose as he delivered his retort. Sam crossed her eyes to look down at the white blob and then glanced back at Freddie, expressionless other than the slight hint of surprise in her eyes. He grinned triumphantly.

It was the grin that did it. Sam scooped out a significantly larger mass of frosting and squarely placed her hand on Freddie's face, covering his nose, eyes and lips. She proceeded to spread the sticky substance across his forehead and cheeks, bringing it down to his chin. When she was sure enough of his face was covered, Sam stepped back and admired her handiwork.

"You have some stuff - " she began.

"I realize," Freddie said, an exact imitation of how she had said it earlier. He licked some frosting off his lips.

"Well?" said Sam impatiently. "Aren't you going to wipe all of it off? We've got a slam to do and you can't do it with a frosted face. It's against the rules."

Freddie rolled his eyes and walked over to the kitchen island to grab a paper towel. As Freddie cleaned his face, Sam cleaned hers, wiping the the frosting from her nose with her thumb and placing it in her mouth, smiling at Freddie's audacity. The smile grew broader when a dry-faced Freddie shoved her aside without warning and stood next to her, ready to play. He grabbed two cupcakes, chocolate and vanilla, and handed her the chocolate one.

"Okay, you set?" Freddie said as they both poised their cupcakes over their ammunition.

"Bring it," Sam sing-songed. They simultaneously dunked their cupcakes into the pan, twisting and rotating for maximum frosting adhesion.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sam noticed Freddie's concentration as he iced his weapon like a cupcake-slinging pro. Not taking her eyes off her own cupcake, Sam slid her foot slowly over to his and tapped her sneakered-toe lightly against the side of his shoe; she thought of it as psyching out the competition. Freddie hardly broke his focused expression as he nudged back. Identical smirks formed on their lips. It was going to be a good game.

AN: Lol, I just realized how I just seem to gravitate to writing fics about girls named Sam. Funny stuff.

So, there was some fluff. Drop me a review if you liked it, a review if I should just disappear from the iCarly-verse, or a review if you can make my writing better. Sorry I couldn't think of a better excuse as to why Carly was upstairs. But, I started this fic when I was busy not studying for midterms, so...there ya go.

Thanks you.

P.S. I dunno about you, but they were SO playing footsie during the two seconds they were smiling in that scene, right before Carly came in. CAH-UTE.