DISCLAIMER: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and its characters are the property of James Cameron and Fox. No infringement intended.
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"Are you kidding me?"
Cameron looked up from her task to scowl darkly at the clock on the wall. There should have been plenty of time to finish and get cleaned up. If only "You're early," she replied pertly, not stopping what she was doing.
Sarah refused to be distracted as she crossed the kitchen to survey the mess on the counter and the slightly dishevelled terminator with a streak of flour in her hair. "You aren't seriously baking me a cake, are you?"
"It's your birthday. And if you had stayed out like you had planned, I would have surprised you with it."
"Oh, trust me, this is enough of a surprise," Sarah noted with a grin as she snaked a hand over Cameron's shoulder to snag a taste of the chocolate batter that the terminator was mixing with a single-minded determination.
"The cake halves will be smaller if you continue to eat the batter," Cameron reproached as Sarah reached in for another taste.
Sarah completed her theft, flashing the terminator with a triumphant grin as she licked her finger clean. "This is the best way to eat it," she laughed as Cameron glared at her.
Another swipe at the bowl gave her another fingerful, but Cameron caught her wrist before she could get it to her mouth. A mock-fight ensued as Sarah tried to free her arm, and Cameron, mindful of her strength, used only enough pressure to hold Sarah's wrist but not immobilize her. They struggled back and forth for a few moments until Sarah smeared a large dollop of batter across Cameron's cheek.
Sarah laughed outright at the indignant expression on Cameron's face before leaning in to lick the offending batter off, the taste of chocolate mingling intoxicatingly with the taste of Cameron's skin.
When she leaned back to rest against the counter, still a little breathless from the fight and the laughter, Sarah caught sight of Cameron's expression, the irritation crinkling her nose tempered by a softness in her lips and a hungry look in her eyes that had nothing to do with chocolate cake.
"Come on," Sarah commanded, grabbing the bowl off the counter.
"I have a present," Cameron protested, trying to move past Sarah and into the living room.
"Is it you wrapped in a bow and cake batter all over you?"
"Then it will wait."
Hours later, their nap was interrupted by John yelling from the kitchen, "Mom? Were you making a cake?"
Sarah raised her head and sleepily surveyed the terminator's pale skin, marred only here and there by dried cake batter, and the mess they had made of the sheets. "I guess I should do laundry."
Cameron caught her as she was about to slip out of the bed. "Shower first," she said with a hint of command in her voice and a dark look in her eyes.
Sarah smirked as Cameron led the way to the bathroom. "Of course."
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