Sam's apartment, Boulder, Colorado - Sunday
It was August 24, but Cameron was ignoring the date. Just like he wasn't remembering the people he'd celebrated with a year ago now. Faces he wouldn't see again except for in his dreams and that happened more often than not. Ray lay with his chin on Cameron's knee, his eyes closed as Cameron played with the dog's ears. The motion was an automatism by now, but he'd have to get up eventually before Sam started asking questions. Not that there had been a whole lot of conversation since Bridge's and Xander's wedding.
Sam, for her part, was sneaking into the kitchen like it was enemy territory. Which, she supposed it was, particularly these days. Unlike her previous adventures, though, she was armed only with a box of cake mix and a recipe for frosting that it looked like she might actually be able to follow it without burning down the kitchen. She and Cameron might be barely talking to each other, but spending your birthday alone and without cake was too miserable an idea for her to contemplate.
So, here she was, baking. Hopefully the only singing she'd end up doing was with the radio while she was assembling it or the Happy Birthday song before he blew out the candles.
She turned on the lights, then started gathering all the equipment and ingredients she would need, determined not to mess this up.
Cameron hadn't heard anything, but Ray's head suddenly shot up and he stared at the door, pulling Cameron out of his revere with him.
"What's up, boy?" Cameron asked softly, but the dog didn't answer. He simply jumped out of bed and padded to the door, scratching it with a soft whine and then looked over at Cameron, waiting for him to open it up.
"Don't wake Sam," Cameron warned as he got up and opened the door and Ray darted off, following his nose maybe. With a sigh, Cameron padded behind him, figuring Ray needed to go out. Instead the dog moved into the kitchen to greet Sam, unaware of any sort of tension that was going on.
The next thing that would probably be heard was the sound of Sam's shriek, the plop of something onto the floor, and then her laughing. "Bad Ray. Very bad Ray. Knees are not for cold, wet, dog noses." She bent down to scratch Ray's ears, already forgiving him. "I don't think that floor egg would be good for you."
Ray was inspecting it anyway and there was definitely a risk that he'd gobble it up if he wasn't stopped.
"I think he'll eat anything," Cameron commented, squinting as the light in the kitchen hurt his eyes.
"That doesn't mean he should," Sam said, standing up and reaching behind her for a wet paper towel. "You're up." Well, shoot. This hadn't been in the plan at all. "Want some warm milk or something?"
"Sure," he finally looked around at the kitchen, noticing something that might indicate the start of an attempt to cook and raised an eyebrow. "Bored?"
She sighed as she finished wiping up the egg, then went to the refrigerator to get the milk so she could heat it in the microwave for him. "No. You need to get out of the kitchen for a bit, though." Possibly all day, if she had to do this over again.
He blinked and rubbed at his eyes even if he'd been awake for a while now. "Why? Are you making snicker doodles?"
"No, we're fresh out of people to put in them."
That got the hint of a smile and he leaned his shoulder against the fridge, watching Ray stick close to Sam in the hopes that something good would happen to fall into his path. "I could help." Pause. "Not with the people part."
"No you can't," she told him firmly, handing him the mug of warmed milk. "I'm doing this on my own and you have to be somewhere that isn't the kitchen."
He took the mug from her, instantly burning his fingers and quickly transferred the mug to his other hand to hold by the handle. "What if you burn down the kitchen?"
"Then I double the amount of money I donate to Boulder's volunteer fire department this year?" Sam raised her eyebrows at him.
"Sounds fair," he said with a shrug and a week ago he might have argued about helping, but he didn't now. "Come on, Ray. I'll feed you."
"Feed yourself, too, while you're at it," she ordered, a bit more sharply than she'd intended.
He stopped. "You're ordering me out of the kitchen."
Nice to know she could still give an order. "I am."
"Which is where the food is," he clarified, in case she had missed that.
There should have been coffee before cake-attempts, Sam realized. "Go out for breakfast, then."
That got her more staring. "You're ordering me out of the house?"
"Temporarily?"
"What about my milk?" he was only sulking a little.
Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Fine. Milk, then you go, unless you go back to sleep?"
He wasn't going to get back to sleep, but it beat having to get dressed and going outside. "I'll go sleep then."
"Fine," she glanced over at the oven, wondering if it was preheated yet. "It's still pretty early."
"Yeah," he agreed, half turning away and then he stopped, drawing in a breath. "You don't have to do this," he said, really not that dumb to not guess what was going on. "But thanks."
"Yeah, I do," she contradicted him again, looking to meet his eyes for the first time all morning. "And you're welcome."
He didn't argue again because he felt stupidly sentimental and he nodded slowly, glancing down at his milk. "I'll go sleep then..."
Sam nodded in agreement. "No coming out unless there's smoke, okay?"
"No burning down the kitchen," he replied with a nod and finally headed for the door. "Come on, Ray." Ray stayed put beside Sam, finding what was happening here way more interesting. "Suit yourself."
"You're not having all the mistakes, or you'll get sick," Sam scolded the hopeful-looking dog, thinking how much easier he was to talk to these days than her roommate, then leaned down to whisper in Ray's ear (hopefully low enough that Cameron wouldn't hear). "Go with him, boy. Cam needs you. I'll save you a bowl to lick."
Maybe he understood as Ray made a low whiny noise and then padded off after Cameron.
Sam felt her shoulders loosen as they left together. She started measuring the ingredients and putting them into bowls in exactly the order they were listed in the recipe. After consulting the box, she decided to bake first, because it needed to cool before frosting. Oooh, good to know. As she worked, she triple- and quadruple-checked the ingredients and instructions, trying to follow them to the letter. She couldn't say why it was so important that she get this right, only that it was.
Cameron retreated to his room. He wasn't going to sleep, so he wasn't even going to bother getting back in bed. Usually hearing Sam work in the house was almost a reassuring sound, but right now he was almost too aware of it. Things had changed since last week and it hadn't just been that kiss, though it hadn't helped matters. It was seeing how much everyone has moved on in their lives and he was stuck. Clinging to a few possessions he'd salvaged from a dead world. No matter how much he pretended he was alright; he had a job now, had a cool car (once he managed to fix it up). He just wasn't.
((Preplayed with the dazzling carter_i_am. To be continued in the comments for greater slowplay purposes, but open for phonecalls and the likes if you think your character would have remembered.))