Can't Be Measured
"What does our friendship mean to you?" Sam asks, one finger pressed to her lips. She brushes a strand of hair from her face with her other hand.
Cam fixes her with a questioning stare. "Why, Sam? Is everything okay? I didn't do something wrong, did I?"
"Oh, no! It's nothing like that. I was just…" She shrugs and smiles weakly. "Wondering."
"Oh. Well, okay. Our friendship," Cam starts thoughtfully. "I think that we have something special there," he says, "that can't be measured by any means."
"Perhaps something special beyond friendship?" Sam hints. Her face tinges red.
Cam grins, finding her discomfort endearing. "Perhaps," he agrees.
"Something that would allow me to do this," she says and before he can ask 'what?', her lips are on his, so very soft and warm and right.
Cam reluctantly breaks away first, in desperate need of air. He inhales deeply, staring into Sam's eyes as he recovers. He offers her his best, crooked smile.
"Like that?" he says. "Hell yeah!"
fin.