CHIM - One Hundred Dozen (Lesbian Story) (Cheryl, Kimberley, Girls Aloud)

- Thirty-Two -

"Babyyy, I'm sorry," Cheryl whines youthfully, steadily clutching her iPhone to her ear as she enters the kitchen.  Dressed in one of Kimberley's gray hoodies and some black trackies, she perches herself on a stool at the island.  "I really didn't want to fall asleep."

Kimberley giggles down the line, finding Cheryl's disappointment too cute for words.  She ties her silky black robe securely before making her way out of the lavish bedroom.  Ignoring the lift, she descends the stairs and heads for the dining area.  

They had chit-chatted the hours away last night, easily passing through London's midnight and New York's evening.  Having overcome the jet lag rather quickly, Kimberley's internal clock is already in time with the Big Apple and out of sync with Cheryl's. The Geordie had surrendered to her heavy eyes despite her stubbornness to stay awake.  Kimberley eventually caught up to her, finding a peaceful slumber to the sounds of her girlfriend's leveled breathing.

"Would you stop apologizing, you loon?" Kimberley jests, wedging her mobile between her ear and shoulder.  She grabs the silver tray from the service cart and takes a seat at the oversized dining table, settling in her chair before enjoying the simple buttered toast and fresh-cut fruit, as per requested.  "You're five hours ahead of me.  It's only natural."

"But I wanted to stay awake," she pouts, positive that Kimberley can hear the mood in her voice.

"Cheryl.  Baby.  Love of my life.  Please, for the love of God, stop it." 

Cheryl dissolves slightly, cliché butterflies erupting in her belly at their own accord for a reason she's not quite sure of.  "Kiss us and I might."

"Trust me, I would if I could," she laughs. "Anything to get you to stop your whining." 

Cheryl lets out a long, overly dramatic sigh.  "Fine.  What are you up to?" 

"Eating breakfast.  You?"

"Eating lunch." 

"What are you having?"

"Leftover Chinese.  You?"

"Toast." Kimberley giggles at their lighthearted interrogation.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess - with some fresh-cut fruit, right?"

Kimberley gasps, feigning shock.  "How'd you know?  Are you psychic?" 

"Aye.  Didn't you know?" 

"Okay then what am I thinking?  Go." 

Cheryl ponders for a moment, a cheeky glint sparking up those mischievous brown eyes of hers.  "You're thinking that toast and fruit are boring...and...you'd rather eat Cheryl for breakfast." 

"Wow...you're good," Kimberley laughs, instantly feeling a hit of warmth flicker through her body. 

"I know.  And I promise I'm going to stay up later tonight." 

"No, you're going to screw up your sleeping pattern." 

"I don't care," she huffs.  "This is the plan - I'm gonna stay up, watch me sexy girlfriend blow America away on SNL, then celebrate with some burning hot phone sex." 

The goofiest grin finds it's way to Kimberley's face.  "You pose a tempting offer." 

"Deal or no deal, Miss Walsh?"

"No deal, baby.  It's going to be like past five in the morning for you by the time I get back to the hotel.  I don't want you to-"

"Kimba," she interrupts.  "Kimberley.  Baby.  Love of me life.  Please, for the love of God, stop it."