DISCLAIMER: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and its characters are the propert of James Cameron and Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: For those who wanted to know what happened next, here you go. This is my first shot at true, honest to goodness/badness smut.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Facing the Unknown
I was on my feet in seconds, propelled by a force I didn't comprehend. I stood behind her close enough to smell the soft scent of the lavender shampoo she uses and paced my breathing to her own. It all seemed so ordinary. She takes in oxygen like us, eats potato chips like us, and washes her hair just like us. I even caught the hint of sweat on her skin once after we chased a terminator through the streets.
I'm amazed and in awe of the creature before me. There's something incredibly disconcerting about her normalcy, and my reaction to her. She watches and learns from us. The other day I kissed John goodbye and jokingly told her not to kiss me. I could see the question in her eyes. She wanted to. She wanted to do what we do, what we take for granted. She wanted to kiss me and I wanted her to, but for very different reasons. I couldn't let it happen then, but today is a different day.
My shaking fingers barely brush the skin of her forearm. This movement, this chance I'm taking, could get me killed. I know nothing of her or how she'll respond. To what extent has she been programmed to act human? And I pray it's not an act. The slow and unwavering consistency of oxygen intake hesitates for a flicker of a beat and I have my answer. Smirking, I press on feeling uncharacteristically reckless, easing the curves of my body closer to match hers until I'm nuzzling at her neck.
She hasn't said a word, but her head leans slightly allowing me better access to her neck. Surprised she's responding, I wonder for a moment if all of her feels this real. If I slip my hand past the waist of her jeans, what will I find? My head spins with the possibility. In her first real noticeable movement, I feel her hand slip over my own as I finger the seam of her jeans.
"Do you want to know what it's like to be human, Cameron?" I lick the indention behind her ear.
"Yes," she's breathless, pressing my hand closer to her body, and I find myself coming undone.
Quickly, I spin her around and push her hard against the wall. She eyes me curiously and it only makes me want to fuck her ruthlessly.
"Is this how humans, what's it called, make love?" A glint of tenderness passes across her face. I shake my head, leaning in close to her ear.
"No, this is how humans fuck. Making love comes later," I bite down hard on her neck, drawing a hiss from her, pleased that she feels the sensation. I yank her shirt from the confines of her jeans, ripping it up the middle. Her breasts are heaving and exposed, perfect. Her eyes fluttering closed, push me over the edge. Unsnapping the button of her jeans, I push my hand in, sighing with relief to feel the tickle of curly hair and telltale sign of arousal.
Cameron's head falls back against the wall, the corner of her lip curving almost imperceptibly. Shocked but pleased by the revelation, I lean in close, teasing her opening with the tip of my finger, drawing a deep sigh and a full blown smile from her.
"You sneak! You knew all along."
Her hand snakes up my neck, pulling me in closer, "I like to watch you squirm." The kiss came quick, raw and needy. She tasted sweet like strawberries and I fall deeper into her mouth as my finger mimics the movement of my tongue. The force of needing her inside hits me full force. With my free hand, I undo my pants and grab her hand from around my neck.
"Fuck me, Cameron please," the sensation of being filled makes my legs give out. I lean into her, thankful for her strength and solidity. For long moments, we bask in the simple sensation of warmth, wetness, and flesh - touching and feeling connected to something we couldn't yet imagine.
"Let go, Sarah," three softly spoken words, laden with new emotion, was all it took. I growled into her shoulder, pushing deeper into her with my last reserve of strength, intent on having her join me. She quivers and I feel her grab my forearm, careful not to squeeze too hard.
I think about the life I never got to live - quiet, ordinary suburbia with a white picket fence and a dog. This unknown future, wrapped up in the arms and eyes of this woman-machine, has wiped away my chances for ordinary, and that's no longer a bad thing.
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