DISCLAIMER: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and its characters are the propert of James Cameron and Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A response to Ann's fake fic request; The one where Sarah and Cameron join forces to bake a birthday cake for the annoying brat John.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
A Terminator Betty Crocker
Cameron sieved the flour, cracked the eggs, and mixed the batter. She preheated the oven, greased the cake tins, and located the tiny candles. She wore an apron, that was spotlessly clean, and managed to keep even a trace of flour from dusting her skin. She was the terminator equivalent of Betty Crocker.
Sarah sat on the kitchen counter, her eyes following the machine's every move, and her fingers itching to trail through the rich, dark and seductive... batter. She wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, especially John, but the sight of Cameron bustling around the kitchen, doing her domestic goddess impersonation, was making her palms sweat.
"Will it be ready by the time he gets back?" Sarah asked, more to derail her thoughts than to elicit information.
Cameron frowned. "I have set the timer." Her eyes strayed to the round dial attached to their ancient stove, as she finished pouring the batter into the tins and finally transferred her creation to the oven. "It will be ready in forty-five minutes."
Leaning over, Sarah snatched the bowl from Cameron's hands, before the girl could even think of washing away all the delicious evidence of her activities. She dipped her finger into the batter, the rich chocolate coating her skin before disappearing behind full lips; she moaned in pleasure. "That's so good."
The terminator stared. Nothing in her short existence had quite prepared Cameron for the sight of Sarah Connor in orgasmic rapture over the mere taste of chocolate cake batter. She wanted to ask for clarification; question the other woman as to her irrational delight, but she could only stare, her mind replaying Sarah's ecstasy in a continual loop, until she felt as if her world had been reduced to Sarah Connor's moans of pleasure.
"Cameron?" Sarah had never seen the terminator look at her with such... such intensity. She felt her stomach clench and would have mistaken her reaction for fear, but there was a familiar rhythm to the thunder of her heart that told her it was something else. Something far more terrifying than fear.
Cameron took the bowl out of Sarah's hands. "We have forty-three minutes," she said, tracing her hand through the thick batter before offering both the chocolate and herself for Sarah's consumption.
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