DISCLAIMER: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and its characters are the propert of James Cameron and Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Possible spoiler for Brothers of Nablus, I think, but you'd have to really be paying attention to notice.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To tamrocks[at]carolina.rr.com
What Sarah Needs
By Tamrocks
Sarah had been injured. The wounds were not serious, but there were deep scrapes on her back where she could not properly tend.
Cameron was also mildly battered, but was functioning within parameters.
Their mission had seemed fairly innocuous at the outset. The only reason they both went was because John insisted that if he could not go, that Cameron must accompany his mother, "just in case".
They had both nearly been run down by the henchman of a low-level gun dealer who decided he wanted payment for the high capacity magazines and the AA-12 shotgun that caught Sarah's eye for three-hundred cash and oral sex from Cameron.
Sarah Connor had been appalled.
"She's my daughter!" She had only faltered for .09 seconds on the noun, noticeable only to the Terminator's sense of timing.
By the time Sarah had objected out loud, though, Cameron had deftly unbuckled and removed the man's belt with a shove backwards that left him mildly surprised, and fully aroused.
Cameron's brown eyes targeted Sarah for further instruction.
"This ain't your daughter's first rodeo," said the man with a leering grin as he took in the slim girl dressed in a pink tank top and low-riding blue jeans.
Sarah's head had barely shaken in the negative before Cameron had used the belt to bind the man's arms behind his back. The older woman had bagged up the high-capacity magazines and two extra pistols and slung the back pack and shotgun over her shoulder. His surprise at Cameron's efficiency gave them an extra few seconds to leave the empty warehouse before he began hollering for assistance.
The females had nearly made it to their truck when they heard squealing tires behind them. They started to run, but the sun-lit alley was narrow. Cameron shoved Sarah aside, and then jumped over the hood, striking the windshield and rolling across the roof. She yanked the car door open while the driver was busy gaping at her in the rear view mirror, and threw the man against the wall of the building, where he remained, unconscious.
Cameron heard Sarah groan softly as she rose from the asphalt, her backside stinging. When Cameron approached to help her up, Sarah had nearly made it to her feet.
"We need to go," said Cameron, her calm, smooth voice belying any urgency that the words conveyed, as she grasped Sarah's arm to steady her. Cameron cocked her head as she heard additional back up approach the bound dealer. "Now," she added, picking up the shotgun Sarah had lost her grip on when she was flung through the air.
Sarah nodded and ran, sliding into the passenger seat as Cameron gunned the truck into drive.
The drive home was mostly quiet.
"You are hurt," Cameron stated finally.
"No." The reply was terse.
This was the hard part. The grateful feelings for saving her life, mingling with the distrust of any and all artificial intelligence technology; every time, it made Sarah feel a prickly tightness, like a minor electrical storm through her core. She could not relax it, only fight it. When it mixed with the protective feelings that she sometimes felt, the dependence, and security that came with having an efficient killing machine regularly having your back, in the package of a beautiful young woman, it sometimes made Sarah long for her days at the mental institution, like it would be a relief to just lie down on that cot, finally swallow those pills and sink into oblivion.
"You are sitting as if you are injured. I pushed you too hard," said Cameron, not taking her eyes off of the road ahead of her.
"No," she said again, continuing to look out the side window.
"I'm sorry."
"Cameron." She closed her eyes. "Please, don't talk," she managed to say, barely holding herself together.
Cameron looked at her, taking in the elevated blood pressure, respiration, and heart rate. "Ok," she said, and clicked on the radio, tuning it to a classic rock and roll station, and turning it up.
Cameron grabbed the bag and the shotgun and glided into the house. She leaned the gun against the wall, dropped the bag on the table and opened the freezer and refrigerator, snagging a bag of peas and a bottle of water before the doors could close on their own and moving to the bottle of ibuprofen on the counter. She placed the peas on her left shoulder, the area that took the impact with the car and then walked back across the kitchen and opened the screen door just before Sarah reached the top step.
She shook three pills into the older woman's palm and handed her the opened water.
Sarah downed the pills and half of the water, making her way to rest against the counter, and then shifted her green eyes to Cameron.
"Were you really going to blow that guy?" Sarah asked, taking another drink of the water.
"If it was necessary," Cameron said casually, noting the tension on Sarah's brow between her eyes.
"Why?" Her eyes studied the Terminator's. "You don't ever have to do something like that," Sarah said distastefully.
"You liked the shotgun, and we did not have the money with us for his asking price. You have forbidden me from killing people without it being necessary to protect other human life. I thought it was the logical course of action to accomplish the goal, and yet remain within your restrictive parameters."
Sarah was silent as she looked over Cameron's profile. "Cameron, you will not trade sex for anything," she said finally.
"Why?"
"Because, it should be a personal choice, made between two people because they want to, not because of payment for a product, or because someone in a position of power demands it," Sarah shook her head. "I would never ask you to do that for anything, especially not a shiny shotgun. None of us should. I don't care if you aren't…human."
Cameron blinked, "I understand. Thank you for explaining."
Sarah capped the bottle and put it on the shelf, the motion stretching the injury on her back.
"I need to clean up."
"Yes."
"I'll need your help."
"I'll get the first aid kit and be up in a moment."
It was only 11:30 a.m. but Sarah was exhausted. She had been up about five hours, but sleep prior to rising, had been fleeting. She moved up the stairs into the bathroom as if on auto-pilot. Between constant nightmares of fiery deaths, Terminators killing her son, and global nuclear war, she was lucky if she slept four consecutive hours per night. It had been that way for years. It was taking its toll. As was guilt; everywhere she turned her memories to there were dead bodies, lies, lost dreams, destroyed hopes, all in her endeavors to save mankind. People were rarely happy after Sarah came into their life.
Her son, John; he was forced to kill a man to save her. She had been unable to protect him, helpless; it wasn't even a machine, but a man who had rendered the great Sarah Connor into such a vulnerable state that her teenaged son…
She leaned forward, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and let the sob out quietly.
She was so tired.
Cameron stopped moving, hearing the quiet exhalation of breath from the second floor. She waited, listening. There had been weeks of palpable tension in Connor household, so thick even the Terminator could feel it.
She gauged the best course of action, tracking the seconds by and then she heard the shower water start. Thirteen point seven seconds after that, she heard Sarah curse.
"Good one," the Terminator smiled. Hot water in abraded skin had a way of shoving sorrows aside, even if temporarily.
When Sarah slid back the shower curtain, she saw that Cameron had silently placed a pair of sweat pants and a tank top on the toilet seat, and a steaming cup of coffee on the shelf. She had hoped for a mug of Joe, and its presence did not surprise her. Cameron was nothing, if not efficient.
As Sarah dried off and clothed herself, she heard the second shower start and Cameron singing as she cleaned herself up. Sarah paused. Why the hell would a Terminator sing? She brushed her dark hair, straightening the waves into some semblance of order. She sipped the coffee and smiled as the perfect flavor filled her mouth, and warmth seeped through her chest, eerie thoughts on killing machines singing falling away.
By the time Sarah had disposed of her torn and bloodied clothing from the bathroom floor and hung up the towel, Cameron's feet padded down the hallway. She was clothed in her signature tank top, along with loose fitting cotton shorts. Her left shoulder was already a mottled blue.
"You're injured," said Sarah as they met near the doorway of her bedroom. She briefly wondered at the irony of her picking up Cameron's speech cadence and word choices.
"I'm--" functioning within acceptable parameters she thought, "ok" she said. "The peas helped the swelling," she added, sounding more like a girl than a machine.
Sarah's mouth twitched slightly, almost smiling. "I feel about fifty percent of my regular capacity," she said with a soft moan as she moved into the room. "My back hit the asphalt." She slid face-down onto the bed, pulling one of her pillows to her stomach.
Brown eyes followed the woman as she lay on the bed; Cameron estimated Sarah's condition much higher, at least 93%.
"I heard you curse in the shower," was all she said as she gently lifted Sarah's shirt from the wounds on her back.
Sarah chuckled, "Don't repeat that in school."
"I understand." Cameron's words were clipped, suddenly sounding mechanical. Sarah recognized the sound as stress and glanced back briefly. Cameron's eyes scanned the wide scrapes and bruises as she dabbed a peroxide –soaked cotton ball to the open wounds. Sarah sucked in her breath quietly; tensing her fingers slightly as the bubbles tingled into rended flesh.
"Sarah," said the Terminator watching goose bumps rise across Sarah's back as her fingers caressed her lightly.
"You probably saved my life," Sarah interrupted her before she could apologize again. "Death doesn't heal. This will. I'm not angry."
Cameron nodded, suddenly much more interested in the reaction of Sarah's body to the touch of her hands, than the guilt at the injury to the soft, human flesh. Humans were fragile; even though Sarah exhibited great strength of will and determination and courage, her body, as fit as it was, remained soft and easily breakable.
And now, it was tensing and rippling without obvious permission from its master.
Sarah let out a breath, "What are you doing?" she managed after a fleeting caress near the top of her buttocks sent an unbidden wave of desire through her.
Cameron paused, soaking another cotton ball in peroxide and continuing to clean the scrapes. "You are aesthetically pleasing, and your skin is very soft to the touch. It feels…good, under my fingertips. It makes me want to press my lips against you."
"What the hell?" barked Sarah, rolling onto her side to look at Cameron's face.
The Terminator leaned back lifting her hands in supplication, knowing by Sarah's heart rate, and skin temperature that she was angry. The words and touches had evidently been out of line, and in doing a rapid search of her sub routines and data programming, she recognized the potential for multiple errors of conduct.
"That was a mistake," Cameron said quickly. "I don't know why I said those things."
Sarah was so surprised she had no idea how to respond. After a moment however, she began to feel mildly sorry for the stricken girl in front of her, who looked like she was waiting for Sarah to strike her.
Not that there was no reason for Cameron to fear that, Sarah thought guiltily.
Sarah finally over-powered the tension and rolled back onto her stomach. "Are you finished?"
Cameron gazed at the smooth back, curving down to the hip, and upward, around to the small breast, covered partially by the shirt.
"I may be malfunctioning. I keep thinking that if you wanted to use me to release your sexual tension, that we have four hours and twelve minutes until John will return from school. I would be amenable to that usage. It's like a terminal loop. Should I run a system diagnostic?"
The room fell completely still.
Sarah's hand slowly moved toward the gun under her pillow. The tension was back, so tight she could barely move. The last thing she wanted was for Cameron to revert to her original Skynet programming. They had become dependent upon her; she had become dependent upon her, in spite of all of her efforts to the contrary. Cameron's performance today had been flawless, until now. It would increase the burden on Sarah to have to return to relying only on herself.
Not to mention all of the running, screaming, and general mayhem that would follow a reversion to original programming.
When she finally turned her head to look, Cameron was in the same position, obviously confused, and seemingly frightened.
The subtle movement toward the weapon ceased. "Do you really think you are malfunctioning?" asked Sarah quietly, her wary eyes meeting Cameron's.
"No."
"What do you think is happening?"
She cocked her head slightly, eyes roaming across Sarah's prone body. "You are beautiful. I am reacting to the closeness of your bare skin, and the knowledge that your breast is nearly visible." She paused. "I understand now why you shout at me when I am not clothed and John is in the house."
Sarah nodded satisfied, "Finally." She relaxed slightly as she sighed. Cameron was still Cameron, analyzing, gathering intelligence… learning.
"You have been sad, and hurt. I want to comfort you, even though that is not my primary mission. I…" she lowered her hands to rest on her thighs finally and swallowed, "want to help...to be close to you…to make you happy."
Sarah battled her instinct to run as she took in Cameron's demeanor and words. This should not happen, should it? Programming, instruction, following commands, those things dictated what Cameron, a Terminator, a machine, or more correctly, cybernetic organism, should do. "Is my happiness a secondary mission?" she wondered aloud. Her eyes scanned Cameron for deceitfulness.
"Your happiness is not described in any of my programming," she responded. "However, I have concluded at this juncture that completing the mission and your general happiness are not mutually exclusive."
Sarah nodded and let out a slow sigh. The tightness of her spine pulled at the scrapes and burgeoning bruises on her back. Her exhaustion and frustration with feelings of futility and desperation returned to her mind as she rested her head down onto the bed and looked at Cameron's open, naïve expression.
Happiness: Sarah was certain that was something only other people experienced.
"I would be satisfied with rested, and ecstatic with contentment," she said softly, almost to herself.
"Perhaps you aren't setting your goals high enough," responded Cameron.
Sarah snorted. She had no idea if Cameron's sense of humor was incidental, or purposeful, but always found it disarming.
"We have four hours and ten minutes until John returns from school," Cameron updated. She wanted to say more. She wanted to convince the woman that sexual activity was a logical course of action, that the release of oxytocin through the physical closeness would decrease the tension and make her feel better, and that Cameron wanted to experience it with her. She would have moved forward to initiate physical contact if she was not aware that Sarah had an innate fear and abhorrence of what Cameron's existence represented.
Sarah shook her head and sat up running her hands through her hair. It had been a long time since she'd been with a woman. She could absolutely do worse; Cameron was exquisite. There would be no real baggage, what with Cameron being a ma—cybernetic organism; no wondering about the next phone call, or hiding her identity, or unwittingly subjecting her lover to Skynet attacks. But, it was everything else… if Sarah Connor, of all people, succumbed to the lure of the technology, then all was lost.
Then again, she already had, and she knew it. Her son in the future had guaranteed it would happen. Cameron was her Terminator. And it wasn't that Cameron was fooling her into believing that she was anything but, Cameron.
She stood up and walked toward the door of her bedroom, her hand on the knob, deciding to tell Cameron to leave and lock it behind her. Not that it could keep her out…
Cameron tensed in anticipation. "I have never done this before," she said quietly, sitting up even more erect if possible. "I find myself feeling, apprehensive."
Sarah turned, surprised, not sure what she had expected. After the nearly professional removal of the gun dealer's belt, she had assumed that Cameron had substantial experience, but saw that her cheeks were slightly flushed. Embarrassed, aroused?
"Apprehensive, why?" noting that Cameron's intuitiveness was off. She had not reacted to Sarah reaching for the gun, and now misread Sarah's movement to the door.
Maybe Terminators that sing, lose focus when they want hip-action?
"You are Sarah Connor," Cameron said simply. "You are the most revered, respected fighter in the legends of all the resistance. Your strength and strategic wisdom passed onto John Connor has led to the near destruction of Skynet and persistent survival of humankind, despite Skynet's best efforts. You always fight, with no regard to the difficulty, danger, and loneliness, because you are Sarah Connor and it is your mission. Your illogical, emotional inefficiency exhausts you to the detriment of your physical well-being, and yet you never compromise your humanity to succeed." She paused, and then added softly, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I feel very fortunate," that you have chosen me, she thought, but did not say. She had already said too much. Sarah liked brevity.
Sarah stared into brown, open, trusting eyes. Cameron understood. She understood everything. She wanted to help, and she wanted Sarah. Sarah took a deep breath to still her unsteady hands and swallowed.
"You really want this," she stated in wonder.
Cameron nodded solemnly, "Yes. You said it should be my choice. I choose you."
Sarah remained still, staring at her for eleven point zero four seconds before she turned and gently closed, then locked the door. She looked back, maintaining eye contact and carefully approached the younger woman. Cameron's breathing slowed to control her anticipation. Sarah took Cameron's face in her hands.
"What you said, before…" she said softly, looking down into the shiny, brown eyes, "that may be the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me."
Cameron smiled, "I know you better than most anyone."
Sarah nodded, amazed at how soft Cameron's skin was, and how warm. Cameron tried to be patient, but slowly reached her hands out to rest on the outside of Sarah's thighs. She marveled at the muscles in the older woman's legs, sliding her hands slowly to rest on Sarah's hips.
Sarah bent forward slowly, kissing Cameron's mouth, holding her firmly against her as she eased onto the bed, her right knee first, then her left her hips pressing tightly against the younger woman. Cameron craned her neck upward to maintain the sweet contact, her hands sliding slowly up Sarah's prominent ribs. Her thumbs brushed against Sarah's breasts, moving slowly in tandem across each nipple. Sarah gave a slight gasp into Cameron's mouth then broke free for a moment to take a ragged breath. Cameron continued to slide her hands slowly upward her finger tips curving around to gently scrape Sarah's shoulder blades, then up further, forcing the older woman's arms over her head and removing the tank top she had been wearing.
Cameron zeroed in on the darker circles on Sarah's breast, first kissing, then licking and sucking. Sarah tangled her hands into Cameron's soft brown hair, cupping the back of her head, encouraging the contact. Sarah arched her back in response to the warm mouth, and agile tongue as a jolt shot due south.
Cameron's movements were slow, but certain, attending to the corresponding parts of Sarah that tingled and yearned for contact on her.
Sarah had not known how badly she wanted this. She never thought about what it would feel like to have Cameron pressed against her, in spite of finding her physically attractive. She refused to allow it while she was awake and could control it. God, she is so beautiful, she thought.
She sat back a little and helped Cameron slide her shirt off; running her hands underneath the girl's perfectly shaped breasts, eliciting a gasp as well as an upward pressure against her hips.
"Are you ok?" Sarah asked softly, leaning forward, her hands tangling in Cameron's hair, cheeks touching, and the breath from her words touching Cameron's ear, causing an inexplicable curve in the cyborg's spine.
Cameron nodded, her breath coming in rapid, shallow puffs "Functioning,"
"Within acceptable parameters," Sarah finished the sentence with her and laughed, pressing her hips forward, trying to make contact, as they kissed again. "You're going to need to work on your erotic dialogue," she whispered against her lips.
"I will."
Sarah grinned against Cameron's mouth. It was supple and inviting and Sarah relished the sweet, wetness as Cameron slid her hand across Sarah's hips, stroking her through her clothing. When their bare flesh finally touched, both women moaned softly; hands and mouths caressed and kissed, exploring, logging information, pleasuring.
Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around Cameron, moving her hips still, seeking contact, but not getting enough of it.
"I need you to touch me," she breathed huskily.
Cameron, whose hands were all over Sarah's body and had been for the past several minutes hesitated in confusion. Finally, Sarah took Cameron's right hand and guided it into her pants, sliding the fingers into the silky, wet juncture, throwing her head back with a moan as the contact was made.
Cameron was suddenly even more aware than she had been moments before.
Sarah kissed her again, her breath hitching more now that Cameron was diligently exploring the soft, wet folds, teasing around the entrance, but unable to achieve full penetration due to the acute angle. She noted what and where made Sarah moan, directing her tactile assault in those locations. Sarah rose up higher, coaxing Cameron's fingers closer until she was able to slide into her. She moaned again, increasing the height and degree of the strokes as Cameron's thumb naturally slid over the swollen nub of Sarah's clitoris.
Cameron was careful not to grasp Sarah's injured back. Sarah, however had reached the point where need had overcome any attempts to cover politeness or embarrassment. She gripped Cameron's slim shoulders tightly, holding herself against her to create more pressure against her throbbing center.
Sarah's face was so beautiful. No fear or tension marred her eyes or mouth, only desire and pleasure.
Cameron shrugged off the pain of Sarah clamping onto her bruised shoulder and slid her free hand to the base of Sarah's spine, gently increasing the pressure.
"Oh, God," Sarah breathed when it was just right, then found Cameron's mouth again, caressing her cheek, and taut neck, continuing the rhythm of her hips, in smooth strokes as she tried to touch Cameron everywhere, but still keep the relentless stroking.
Sarah held her tightly, both arms wrapped around her neck and head, fingers in her hair caressing, grasping, pulling; her head rolling in ecstasy as her orgasm became imminent.
Cameron suddenly moved her hand from Sarah's back. She cupped Sarah's jaw, fingers curling around her neck and skull and gently pulled her face back into view. "Show me," she whispered, their eyes connecting. Sarah's mouth tightened slightly, not sure she could. Then she kissed Cameron roughly as she delivered the needed pressure again; grinding against her, Sarah touched her forehead to Cameron's providing an unobstructed view of her face.
"Don't stop again," Sarah whispered between begging and demand.
"Swear," she whispered, her eyes locked onto Sarah's, trying to read every bit of emotion, logging each millisecond. Her programming had been inexact. The actual experience was indescribably better than she had believed it would be.
Cameron felt Sarah's motion become slightly halted, even as her finger tips pressed into the Terminator's skin with enough force that she gauged might have been painful for a human to endure for too long. Cameron simulated the same stroke and pressure that Sarah's hips and thighs had maintained, watching the woman's face as the wave of release washed over her, forcing her head back with a soft gasp. She brushed her lips across the front of Sarah's offered neck, and continued watching, until she felt Sarah tense and her core spasm as deft fingers stroked her to completion.
Sarah collapsed against her, suddenly seeming tiny and vulnerable. Cameron cradled her head against her neck and shoulder, then carefully slid her other hand out of the sweat pants, the contact causing Sarah's overly sensitized skin to jump involuntarily. She easily dragged them further onto the bed where she leaned back, allowing Sarah to lie upon her, enjoying the post-coital bliss for as long as she would allow herself.
Six point three seconds later, Sarah slid her hand across Cameron's ribcage and turned her head slightly.
"I'm sorry; that was—"
"Amazing," breathed Cameron, her lips brushing against Sarah's neck.
Sarah smiled, "I was going to say, selfish." She shrugged, "but amazing is accurate too."
"Why selfish?" inquired the girl, letting her fingers roam up the older woman's side, while her other hand ran through the drying waves of her hair.
Sarah shrugged, "I barely touched you. I didn't even get all of my clothes off." She kissed her gently, sliding a little lower.
Cameron pulled her onto her and slid her hands across Sarah's referenced sweat pants, sliding them below her hips. "I can assist you with that," she said, and a moment later, Sarah was naked, holding much of her weight on her hands to either side of Cameron's head. "I wish your back was not injured, I would like to pleasure you with my mouth."
"Jesus," said Sarah, voicing her surprise that the words sent an electrical charge straight to where she would love to feel Cameron's mouth. "It doesn't take you long to get the hang of things, girlie." She knew she should be embarrassed, or ashamed, but she could not force herself to feel either. Not yet, not when Cameron felt so warm and enticing, and trailed her fingers across her abs like that.
"I am efficient," said Cameron, stretching up to kiss Sarah solidly, "and we only have four hours and two minutes until John arrives home from school."
"You are efficient," Sarah agreed, kissing her back. "Maybe you need to learn some patience. We humans are messy and unpredictable and delaying gratification can be…surprisingly satisfying."
Cameron gauged the meaning of the words, "Explain, please."
"I'll show you, if you can promise not to crush me like an egg shell," said the older woman, the trace of a smile on her lips.
It was the closest thing Cameron had ever seen on Sarah's face to a happiness that was directed at her.
"I swear," she said solemnly.
Three hours and forty-seven minutes later, Cameron carefully climbed out of Sarah's bed and pulled the blanket over the sleeping woman's shoulder. She had slept continuously for one hour and thirty-five minutes since their last coupling, Cameron keeping watch over her.
She knew her presence could not assure Sarah's restful sleep, but as she had believed, the release of hormones from the sexual encounter had. Cameron was willing to continue providing her services in that arena. Sarah needed rest, and Cameron appreciated the experience. She replayed the memory of her and Sarah together, freezing the image as the elder achieved orgasm, all five times. She displayed them side by side in her HUD, scrutinizing the images for the emotions captured there.
It was not happiness, but it could be contentment. And Sarah had seemed ecstatic. She had also seemed pleased after bringing Cameron to orgasm multiple times as well, and demonstrating a way that Cameron could orally stimulate her without aggravating the fresh injuries to her back, which pleased them both.
Cameron quickly showered and dressed, turning the television on low and sitting on the couch just twelve seconds prior to the back door opening and John sweeping inside.
"Hey, Cameron, how'd it go?"
"There was a minor incident. It was smart of you to have us both go," stroking the future leader's ego.
"I knew it. Is Mom ok?"
"Yes. She is sleeping."
John blinked. "But she's ok?"
"Yes."
"Did you get what we needed?"
"Yes."
"And you're sure that she's all right? She isn't much of a sleeper usually."
Cameron nodded, "She's five by five, John."
John narrowed his eyes slightly and then shrugged. "Ok. I'm down for pizza for dinner, if my vote counts."
"Pizza rocks."
He smiled. "I'm going to meet Riley and Morris at the arcade. I'll be back for dinner around six."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"Nah, I'll be all right. You were sick today and couldn't go to school, remember?" He grinned at her, "And if not, I'll call you."
"Have fun."
He left and she made another cup of coffee for Sarah and went upstairs with it, placing it on the night stand carefully. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the woman's face, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Sarah opened her eyes.
"You're awake."
"Mmm, since you got up. You made coffee."
"You like coffee."
Sarah rolled onto her back with a slight grimace. "I do."
"John went to the arcade. He will be back by six. He asked if you were all right. I said that you were. He seemed dubious, but I did not tell him we had sexual relations."
Sarah's mouth quirked into what Cameron had come to know as a smile. "I think that's probably for the best."
She reached for the cup of coffee and took a sip and jerking slightly as the liquid burned her mouth. Cameron captured the hot cup, before Sarah's reaction could spill any of it over the side.
"This is not an effective display of patience," said the Terminator.
"You're a really good kisser," Sarah mused.
Cameron smiled, "I think you just needed a good kiss."
Sarah laughed. "Really? So, that's what I got?"
Cameron nodded. "I wouldn't have kissed Derek with the same results."
Sarah dropped her head back against the pillow, laughing even harder as she envisioned the mentioned Resistance fighter from the future's reaction to a sexual advance from Cameron. "No, likely a couple of rounds to your head and chest and curses about infiltration would have resulted." Sarah took the cup back and took another sip. "Was that you trying to infiltrate me?" The words were light, but Cameron saw the glint in the green eyes as they scanned over her features.
Cameron took the cup and placed it back on the stand. She leaned forward and kissed Sarah solidly.
"No," she said softly, her mouth remaining just a few centimeters from Sarah's, "that was me trying to penetrate you."
Sarah gave a short, ribald laugh, her tongue flitting against Cameron's lower lip. "Mission accomplished," she whispered back.
Cameron lifted the covers up and slid overtop of Sarah. She gathered up the woman's wavy brown hair and planted a kiss on the back of her neck. Goosebumps spread across Sarah's skin in reaction to the touch, and Cameron curled her arm under her head and commandeered part of the pillow. Her fingers traced across Sarah's ribcage.
"I have no need to infiltrate you, Sarah. I've already been accepted by John, and therefore, you and Derek by proxy. I am self-aware; why would I not want you? You're smokin' hot."
"You're not so bad yourself," she quipped.
"You are pleased, then?" Cameron asked, sliding her hand across Sarah's hip. Sarah rested her hand on top of Cameron's.
"I am."
"Are you rested?"
Sarah realized that she was. "Yes," she said, sounding almost surprised.
"Good," said Cameron, sounding pleased as well. "I should put some petroleum jelly on the deeper scrapes on your back." She rolled Sarah forward slightly, to allow a better view of the injuries. "As it heals, your skin will feel tight and uncomfortable."
"Thank you, Cameron," Sarah said softly. She reached back, her hand finding the small of Cameron's back, pulling her a little closer.
"You're welcome."
There was an awkward silence for a moment as Sarah weighed the necessity for explaining her gratitude to a machine and Cameron, her acknowledgement of the enormous step it was for the woman to do it. Finally, Cameron said, "John has voted pizza for dinner."
"John doesn't have a thirty-six year old woman's body to worry about."
Cameron smiled, running her finger from Sarah's shoulder, down her rib cage to her hip. "Your body is sufficient."
Sarah smiled, not taking offense, "Is that Terminator for, 'I'm in love'?" she asked sitting up on the edge of the bed, red scrapes glaring starkly against the paleness of Sarah's back.
There was no response and Sarah turned back to her. "It's a joke, Cameron."
"It wasn't funny," her doe eyes glistening.
"Everyone's a critic," Sarah said softly, suddenly realizing the weight of what had happened between them.
Cameron quickly retrieved the jar of petroleum jelly from the night stand, near the cotton balls and peroxide while Sarah studied the younger woman. Cameron dabbed the salve around the deeper scrapes, her face a stoic mask, then reached for a four by four bandage in the first aid kit.
"I don't need a bandage," interrupted Sarah.
"You do. I should have covered the point of initial impact as soon as you got out of the shower. You bled onto the sheets; there is cotton-based lint in the wound, and it will scar if you do not keep it moist."
Sarah covered Cameron's hand with hers, and then touched her face with the other. "Don't freak out," she said, purposely using John's terms. She kissed her gently, her thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "You did this for me. I know that. We'll figure it out for you as we go. Ok?"
Cameron seemed to calm slightly and nodded. "I would still like to put the bandage on the deepest wound."
Sarah smiled and kissed her again. "I know, but I need another shower first."
Cameron stood up. "I will prepare it for you."
Sarah sighed as she watched the lithe girl leave the room. She picked up the cup of coffee and took another sip.
And she had thought her life was complicated when she woke up this morning.
The End