DISCLAIMER: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and its characters are the propert of James Cameron and Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for Challenge #219 ~ High at femslash100.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

High On You
By shyath

 

"Breathe," Cameron instructs in a soft voice as she runs her hands back up towards Sarah's shoulder blades.

Sarah squeaks out something that cannot be English and her nails dig into Cameron's shoulders. Her knees feel like buckling and she tries to breathe - slowly, normally and then rapidly (but her concentration falters, breaks as Cameron's nose digs into a sensitive spot). What the hell am I doing? she hisses at herself.

Cameron came home from school a few hours earlier and told Sarah that she needed help for one of her classes. What class? Sarah remembers asking. Visual arts, Cameron replied shortly. Oh, Sarah said, which sort? Blind sculpting, was Cameron's response.

Now, Sarah stands in this barely there space between Cameron's thighs in Cameron's bedroom and she has a nagging suspicion that Cameron's thighs are closing in on her. The terminator has a blindfold around her eyes and she is all too near to Sarah's overheated skin. I need to feel you, Cameron told her innocently when Sarah protested their proximity. Cameron's hands drag through and against her shirt, exposing skin and hiding it once again. Sarah feels like hyperventilating. "Aren't you done yet?" she rasps, her knees failing her and her body beginning to fall into Cameron's.

"Yes," Cameron responds, using one hand to remove her blindfold and then looking up and at Sarah. Her eyes are bright, filled with a little too much purpose and the hand on Sarah's hip practically burns.

Sarah growls out in frustration and pushes Cameron down. Their lips meet, their legs tangle, their clothes abandoned and much, much later, Cameron has the nerve to tell Sarah, "I remembered to lock the door." Sarah rolls her eyes and tries not to ask Cameron whether or not 'blind sculpting' is merely an excuse.

The End

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