Author's Note: So, this is my first fanfic I'm actually going to post. I'm very excited. It's very much Seddie oneshotty fluff, but hey, you can't get enough of Seddie oneshotty fluff. This is all in Freddie's POV, set when they are about sixteen. I'm pretty sure there aren't any spoilers in this, other than Freddie's multiple nicknames, which are very fun to come up with. If you even read this, put "Seddie Fluff Is Wicked" at the bottom of your review. And… on with the story.

iThink It Took Ya Long Enough

Word Count: 1,177 words on Microsoft Word

Pairing: Sam/Freddie (Seddie)

Summary: She smiled sleepily and said, "It took ya long enough, Frednubs," without even opening her eyes. A Seddie fluff oneshot. First fanfic, so be kind.

POV: Freddie

"I know, right? How great was that 'Guess What I'm Tickling You With!' bit tonight?" Carly asked.

I was sitting in the Groovy Smoothie with Sam and Carly, just chilling on a typical Tuesday night after iCarly. It was June and summer was in full swing, meaning every teenager in Seattle was in Groovy Smoothie, wanting some cheap food.

"Awesome, but I think next time we should use-" Sam cut me off.

"Nobody cares, Fredward. You may be the brains behind the show, but we are the show," she insulted me, easily for the fourth or fifth time in half an hour. Oh, Sam.

"You really should be nice to Freddie. And Gibby. And pretty much everybody on Earth, Sam," Carly chastisted. Her PearPhone started beeping.

"Call?" I asked.

"No, a text. From Spencer. Oh, God, what'd he set on fire this time?!" she said as she pulled her phone out of her purse.

"Marshmallow emergency at the apartment?" she read Spencer's text. "What's that supposed to mean? Well, I guess I'd best get going. Freddie, can you give Sam a ride home?" Carly grabbed her purse and stood up.

"What?" I whined.

"Come on, Freddie, for me? You know Sam doesn't get her license until next month," Carly pleaded.

"I guess, for you, Carly," I said.

"Thank you a ton, Freddie! Well, I gotta go. You know how Spencer can be… especially when it comes to marshmallow emergencies. Whatever those are," Carly said as she sauntered out of the restaurant into the summer night.

"'I guess for you, Carly. I love you, Carly. Marry me, Carly.' Is she all you think about, Fredlumps?" Sam mimicked.

"No. I don't even like Carly like that anymore, for your information. But we're still friends, and friends tend to do favors for one another, unlike you would know, anyway," I mumbled the last part.

"What'd you say, Fredtard? Nobody insults Mamma without consequences," Sam said, and pinned me onto the floor. In the middle of Groovy Smoothie. In front of a large crowd. Oh, joy.

"Sam, what is your problem?" I said as I wriggled out from her grasp and got up, dusting myself off.

"I'm hungry," she randomly said.

"What's new?" I retorted.

"Just buy me a smoothie," she said.

"Buy one for yourself, Sam," I replied.

"I didn't bring any money," she said, smiling.

"Fine." I got up out of my seat and followed her up to the cash register.

"One blueberry banana blitz. No, a strawberry splat. And some fries. Maybe a bagel, too. Yeah. A large strawberry splat, large fries, and a bagel. And don't skimp on the cream cheese, bucko," she ordered to the employee.

"That'd be $8.76, Sam." We came here so often, they knew our names. Or, Sam's name, at least.

I fished my wallet out of my back pocket and handed the cashier a ten. "Keep the change. It's for having to deal with Sam so often. You deserve it," I offered.

Once Sam's food came up onto the counter, she grabbed it and ran back to our table. Eating ravenously, she said, "Thanks, Freddo. You know how Mamma gets when she's hungry."

"Oh, yes. I wrote the book on 'Mamma' and her eating habits."

"Yeah, well, that's the Puckett family for you," she said. Sam really never mentioned her family, other than her mom, who was likely a drunk or a druggie. But who knows, right?

"Well, your family's clearly just as bizarre as you, Sam," I replied, trying to steal a fry off her tray.

"No way, Fredward, not gonna happen. You want another date with the floor?" she said as she grabbed the fry out of my hand.

"No, I'm good, Sam. Really."

Twenty minutes later, Sam was finally finished eating.

"I'm tired, Frediot. Take me home," Sam said as she rubbed her stomach and yawned.

"Okay. I'll just get rid of your trash, Samantha."

"Freddo, just because I'm tired doesn't mean I can't break your limbs," she retorted.

"I never doubted it, Sam," I said as I grabbed the tray and took it to the trash.

We walked out to the car and got inside.

"What CDs do you have, Fredweird. Mamma loves her tunage," Sam asked as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"Well, you just might be in luck, considering I have the new Cuddlefish album right here," I said, digging the plastic case out of my console.

"Put it in! We don't have all night, Fredgunk!" she replied as she got settled into the leather interior of my 2011 Prius my mom got me for my 16th birthday a few months ago.

We drove down the Seattle streets as we got farther out into the suburbs, where Sam and her mom lived.

"Oh, this is my favorite song, Sam!" I said as track number four came over the speakers. "Sam?" I looked over at her. She was asleep.

Really, shouldn't I have known that food plus Sam equals sleep?

Eventually, we pulled into her two story house about a mile away from the Groovy Smoothies.

"Sam?" I tried to awaken her. "Sam?"

She wouldn't wake up. All I got was a grunt and a snore.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," I exclaimed as I got out of the car and walked over to the passenger side door. I picked Sam up bridal style and shut the door with my foot. Who knew Freddie Benson was so talented?

Carrying her up to the front step, I kicked the door, and it opened. Yes… score one for the Bensonater.

Wow, that was uncool.

Sliding through the foyer, I saw Ms. Puckett sitting in the living room, watching reruns of the Tonight show. Drunk, most likely.

"Sammie, is that you?" she asked, dazed.

"Yeah, this is her friend, Freddie. She fell asleep in my car and wouldn't wake up, so I'm taking her up to her room," I said.

"I didn't know my Sammie had a boyfriend!" she said, looking towards me.

"Oh, well, I'm not her boyfriend, really," I said, my cheeks turning magenta.

"Whatever you say, Freddie," she said, laughing. Her laugh sounds just like Sam's. Musical, almost.

I continued up the stairs, around the corner, and down the hall. I came to a little room on the end of the hall that had a white door. I kicked it open.

I had actually never been in Sam's room before. I had seen the door, seen the outside, but never the inside. It was surprisingly clean. It had blue wallpaper and two big windows, with a dresser, bed, desk, and (not surprisingly at all) trash can full of Fat Cake wrappers. Oh, Sam.

I walked into the room and sat Sam down on her bed. Sitting up, I studied her for a moment.

She looked so calm and relaxed when she was asleep, not at all like she could kill you blindfolded with both hands behind her back. I kissed her forehead. "I love you, Sam."

She smiled sleepily and said, "It took ya long enough, Frednubs," without even opening her eyes.

Another Author's Note: So… did you like it? I really hope you review, it really makes my day. Or alert, or favorite. Those rock, too. I'm gonna leave this a oneshot, probably, but hey, if you really like it, I could publish another one in the same universe, ehh? Well, thank you for taking time out of your day to read my fanfic, virtual cookies for everybody!

-jesswrites