A Watery Brave
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Cameron sat comfortably in the water of the kiddie pool in the summer heat. Children were splashing all around her. There were various sprays, chutes and bubbling cauldrons intended, to her ruthless logic, to upend and torture the children.
Thence to believe they were about to drown in the maelstrom, then drop them gently into the soft, warm and shallow water that surrounded her cyborg lower limbs.
She had been following her target, John Connor, for some 15 days. It had taken 58 days to find him after arriving in this time zone, 1999. Her mission was to protect him from others of her kind. Future John had been mysterious about the rest of her mission.
He had only said, "You'll know it when the time comes."
She trusted Future John implicity, and never questioned his judgement or orders.
Now here, in the past, with its myriad boilings of humans, she wondered if she might have requested a few more details.
Life in the tunnels was simple, survive, fight Skynet, survive, fight Skynet. A routine only altered by death.
Here, every day was a riot.
She suspected that Future John would want her to soften the cruel, miserable, cold hearted bastard that FJ had become.
Quite how she, a machine, albeit well educated, could achieve that eluded her. She was the very embodiment of the ruthless application of logic, wasn't she?
She was programmed for infiltration, but dealing with humans was roughly equivalent to speaking Chinese in bedlam. Biological creatures were completely illogical. To Cameron, most of the time they seemed to work out what was needed to do the right thing, then do the opposite.
Cameron would start out simple, keep him safe, then work it out from there.
With what the unknowing onlooker might describe as a sigh of frustration, she closed her eyes and refocussed on the activity in the pool.
The chaotic braggadocio of the young men round the pool gave her an internal smile. Young men were SO stupid. Risky dives, throwing each other in the pool and pushing each other off the diving boards was not logical or safe. Perhaps this was their version of preparing for war, or pair bonding, who knew?
The lizard brain, in action.
She would save her lizard, and study him at length.
Cameron stayed away from the busy main area, with diving boards and a deep end of 16 feet. While she had no fear of water, and could swim effectively, her swimming action was obviously not human. She weighed far more than a human of her petite size
So she had to use her power to carve through the water. Swimming would draw attention to her. Attention was to be avoided.
A group of young women, dressed in swimsuits of the bare legal minimum had arrived and were sashaying around the pool, to the delight of the young men. Catcalls and whistles scorched across the damp atmosphere, and the young men became even more frenzied.
Cameron's appearance caused her enough trouble with males of all ages as it was, and so she deliberately underdressed. Unremarkable, dull clothing, no attempt to stand out. No quarter to fashion or style. She wanted to be, and remain, 'off the grid'.
Out of sight, and please, out of mind.
Unfortunately, she had the type of figure and classical beauty that if she wore a black plastic trash bag, some fashion house would instantly copyright it as the latest chic must-have.
Her mark, John Connor, stayed frustratingly and resolutely at the deep end of the pool. Diving, bombing and depth charging with the other youngsters. Cameron pondered how she could get close to him, but nothing obvious appeared.
Patience, (patience, possess it if you can, seldom in a woman and never in a man) the hallmark of the Terminator, was her steady, endless reality.
She would prevail, she had to. It was just time, and she had that in abundance. She would wait, she could "people watch" and there was enough room in her resources to watch out for John. There were worse ways to earn a living.
Suddenly, she saw John lying in the water, still. He was face down, not moving!
Standing up with loose-limbed grace, she loped swiftly to the pool. Diving soundlessly into the water, Cameron raced under the surface with inhuman speed toward John. Luckily the chaos and confusion caused by the promenading girls kept most of the onlookers and staff from seeing her startling progress through the water.
She reached John in less than two seconds and flipping him on his back, started to tow him to the side.
"Hey"! John spluttered, "what, who are you" as he struggled against her steely grip.
"I'm rescuing you, idiot, you were drowning, now you're not".
Humans!
"Jeez, I was playing dead", he said, gripped in the vice of the arms holding him against her breasts.
Wait!
What?
John Connor, you're getting rescued and towed by an unbelievably strong chick and you are getting horny about the feel of her breasts against your back? With her strength, she must be built like Tamara Press. I'm getting horny about Tamara Press? How sick am I?
"Well, this is what happens when you play dead, people play at rescuing you".
"Who are you, anyway"
Cameron hefted him up onto the side of the pool with an easy glide. She released him, to sit on the pool side rack seats.
"My name is Cameron, who are you"?
"I'm John". He looked at his "Tamara Press", only to find out she was a goddess, with film star looks and a pink one-piece that somehow was sexier than all the bikinis he had seen all week! Where did she hide that strength?
"Well, floater John, nice to meet you, shame it couldn't have been at a more convenient time and place, but its a start".
"Maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee, say thank you for not saving me"? said John.
"I don't drink coffee".
"What, are you a Mormon, or something"?
Laughing, Cameron said, "Not quite a Mormon".
"What are you"?
"Something else".
I've found you, now to keep you safe and "what?" Young man, thought Cameron.
John said, "Something else, huh?"
John gazed back intrigued, at the lovely creature in the astoundingly sexy plain pink one-piece swimsuit. She was drenched, but looked sensational.
She had the sweetest, most gentle smile he'd ever seen. He was utterly intoxicated.
Was this that moment, across the side of the room, where you know "the one"? Was this what it was like?
He looked into her eyes, which seemed both blue and brown at the same time (how did she do that?).
Then the girl who had dragged him from the water as if he were a plaything said, "lets go and get something else, then".