fic: The Birnam Wood (Sarah Connor Chronicles; Derek/Cameron; pg)
The Birnam Wood
The Sarah Connor Chronicles; Derek/Cameron; pg; 400 words
Derek never forgets that Cameron is not a real girl.
Thanks to amberlynne for reading it over. Written for the West Wing title project.
~*~
The Birnam Wood
Derek never forgets that Cameron is not a real girl. She doesn't move like a girl, doesn't smell like a girl, and while Derek's no expert, he's pretty sure she doesn't act like one, either. At least, not when they're alone.
Doesn't stop him from wondering sometimes, though--usually after he's had a few drinks--if she tastes or feels like one, if the flesh and blood encasing her metal skeleton has any give or softness to it, and if there's slick heat between her perfect legs.
He doesn't get distracted when they're working, even when she's dressed in something that is probably illegal in thirty-eight states, and they're pretending to be drunk and horny. She's programmed to infiltrate, and he's riding the adrenaline rush of a successful sneak and peek, and intrigued despite himself, so pretending is not as hard as he'd thought it would be.
"Two guards coming around the corner," she says softly.
He pushes her against the wall and she lets him, letting loose a giggle so real it makes his skin prickle in horror. He takes a deep breath to steel himself and wraps her hair, soft and smelling of Sarah's shampoo, around his fingers. He tilts her chin up and presses his lips to hers. They're warm and soft and completely still. After a few seconds, she opens her mouth, just like they discussed, and he slips his tongue inside; he touches it to hers, licks at the roof of her mouth, feeling smooth flesh over metal. Her hands come up to grab his shoulders, fingers tightening painfully, but in a good way. She kisses him back then, hot and hungry and relentless; with the soft curves of her body pressed up tight against him, he almost forgets, feels a flare of desire low in his belly, followed by the sick twist of shame.
He hears the guards arrive, mumbling in annoyance. Cameron pulls back, ducks her head in false shyness and smiles at them over his shoulder. The guards growl threats and escort them out, never knowing they've already got what they came for.
When they're out of sight, Derek wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. He pretends not to notice the way it's shaking.
Cameron watches him silently for a long moment, then turns and walks back to the car. She doesn't look back.
Derek doesn't let himself wonder again.
end
~*~
Feedback would be awesome.
~*~
The Sarah Connor Chronicles; Derek/Cameron; pg; 400 words
Derek never forgets that Cameron is not a real girl.
Thanks to amberlynne for reading it over. Written for the West Wing title project.
~*~
The Birnam Wood
Derek never forgets that Cameron is not a real girl. She doesn't move like a girl, doesn't smell like a girl, and while Derek's no expert, he's pretty sure she doesn't act like one, either. At least, not when they're alone.
Doesn't stop him from wondering sometimes, though--usually after he's had a few drinks--if she tastes or feels like one, if the flesh and blood encasing her metal skeleton has any give or softness to it, and if there's slick heat between her perfect legs.
He doesn't get distracted when they're working, even when she's dressed in something that is probably illegal in thirty-eight states, and they're pretending to be drunk and horny. She's programmed to infiltrate, and he's riding the adrenaline rush of a successful sneak and peek, and intrigued despite himself, so pretending is not as hard as he'd thought it would be.
"Two guards coming around the corner," she says softly.
He pushes her against the wall and she lets him, letting loose a giggle so real it makes his skin prickle in horror. He takes a deep breath to steel himself and wraps her hair, soft and smelling of Sarah's shampoo, around his fingers. He tilts her chin up and presses his lips to hers. They're warm and soft and completely still. After a few seconds, she opens her mouth, just like they discussed, and he slips his tongue inside; he touches it to hers, licks at the roof of her mouth, feeling smooth flesh over metal. Her hands come up to grab his shoulders, fingers tightening painfully, but in a good way. She kisses him back then, hot and hungry and relentless; with the soft curves of her body pressed up tight against him, he almost forgets, feels a flare of desire low in his belly, followed by the sick twist of shame.
He hears the guards arrive, mumbling in annoyance. Cameron pulls back, ducks her head in false shyness and smiles at them over his shoulder. The guards growl threats and escort them out, never knowing they've already got what they came for.
When they're out of sight, Derek wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. He pretends not to notice the way it's shaking.
Cameron watches him silently for a long moment, then turns and walks back to the car. She doesn't look back.
Derek doesn't let himself wonder again.
end
~*~
Feedback would be awesome.
~*~