I can't get started

The rain fell in a down pour outside. John Connor began to think if this day could get any worse. He felt tired and the endless unknown of tomorrow weighed on his conscious more so today than in recent memory. He didn't want to go anywhere; he didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to sit in the same spot in the seaside diner and waste away. He didn't want to go home and face the guilty face of his mother for what he had done, or the judgmental eyes of his uncle who thought everything he was doing was always a hair's breath away from being the end of humanity. He didn't even want to hear a giggle or see the bounce of blond locks from Riley, with all her secrets. He just wanted to sit here and wait, for something, for nothing … just wait for life to act. He just wanted a sign.

"Hard times?"

John knew Angus, the fry cook well enough. His mother would warn him about being too familiar with people. But at six foot five and covered in thick hair, John doubted that people often talked to the big man about much. The young man looked up and with a veiled expression of disinterest in his coded ice breaker.

"Hard what?" He sipped the last of his coffee.

"You and the misses not getting along, lately?" The big man spoke with a stern Staten Island accent. He motioned his head of tight dark curls behind John. He followed his gaze out to a booth where his cyborg protector sat in view of the ocean. She only blinked at the attention turned toward her. John rolled his eyes. Maybe his mom had sent her to find him, or she had been there all along.

John turned his back on the beautiful girl and grunted at the big man. "It's a long story." He dismissed the question. He balled his grease stained apron in his hand, to reveal a pot belly covered in food stains. He stared at the girl a little longer.

"I'm not going to tell you, you're business, Johnny Boy."

"Then don't …"

"But ..."

John sighed as the big man talked through his young regular watching the girl look out over the ocean, a flash of lighting glistening in her deadpan golden eyes. "If you ask me, you should work it out with her." He prodded the boy.

"No one did …"

"Look …" He interrupted the young hero again. "There comes a time in every marriage when you go through rough spots …" He advised.

The sound of the certain designation between two people caught John's attention. He was shocked, no one had ever accused him of being a sharing guy, but he thought it seemed pretty obvious that he and Cameron were never an item. He opened his mouth to protest, but he stopped. If he thought about it, When he came here it was usually accompanied by Cameron every Friday and Saturday. Back then they used to be inseparable. Many of breakfast in this diner were had by a smiling teen, telling stories and jokes to a seemingly blank beauty who always hung on every word. In the realization that between John's goofy smiles around the girl and her unflinching devotion and ghosted smiles...

Angus smirked comfortingly at the lonesome face which contorted sorrowfully in longing for every second of the recent past, before everything changed. "Listen, Kid … I've owned this place for years, and in all the years I've never seen anyone as put together as yous two." He pointed a stubby finger at the boy. "Every couple takes its hits and it ain't always going to be like it used to be. Sometimes she fucks up …" John wished he would be more subtle. The fry cook's comment drew his attention like a heat seeking missile. The big man nodded knowingly at the body language, but turned on him quickly "Sometimes you fuck up." He leveled the boy with a chastising glare. John gave petulant roll of his eyes. "Nah …" Angus tilted his head judgmentally. "Don't call me a liar, pretty boy … I've seen you walk in here with that a Jessica Rabbit blond in the spanks and low cut tank top." He shook his accusatory finger up and down as he lectured.

"It's complicated." Was all John said in his defense.

The big man raised his hand up. "I get it, I don't blame yea, that blond she knows what she's expecting, I tell yea."

"Easy Angus."

"Sorry kid …" the big cook cleared his throat in apology. "What I was getting too is, that cartoon girl, she's nice and all, but I've seen yous two in here and she don't look at yous the way, that one does." He motioned his head toward Cameron again. "You come in here and that blond, she looks at yous like you're on a time table, you know? Like you're running out of time and you're wasting her's you know?" He pushed.

The young hero didn't say anything; he just nodded in horrible acknowledgement of secrets and origins still too painful to allow himself to come to terms with. "And Cameron …" He said the name as quiet and reverent as a saint's. "How does she look at me?" he asked.

"Ahhh" the diner owner growled, lifting his hand as if he wanted to smack the boy. "You know how she looks at yea. The two of yous would come in here and set the joint on fire, and all anyone ever talked about was the looks. So, if yous don't know by now, then I'd tell yous to move to Hell's Kitchen and take up the name Murdock." He threw his thumb over his shoulder.

John shifted his jaw. "Things change, it's not like it used to be. There's too much mistrust." He looked into his nearly empty coffee cup like it was a different kind of narcotic liquid inside. He could still see her pinned between the trucks in the vague reflection of the metal beams above them in his mug.

"Listen to me, kid. She comes into this place every day, every day, kid. She sits at your old table till the lunch crowd comes in and she stares at those doors right over there. Now maybe things changed, maybe yous both hurt each other. But the looks kid, that don't change … when she looks at yous and she still sees the man she married … there ain't nothin that can't be fixed for a girl like that." He waved the boy off like he was a fool as the waitress arrived to give him the check. John collected the piece of paper and looked back at Cameron sitting at their old table. He handed the waitress the pay and her usual tip, before he stood from the bar.

The lightning and thunder had passed, but there was still a heavy slanting rain shaking palms outside. It was seemingly what Cameron was watching, when a shadow loomed over her. She looked up at John blankly. He couldn't help but see a glint of hope in her emotionless eyes as he watched her.

"You didn't order anything."

"I rarely do … you know that."

John could tell that she was expecting the most logical question, next. But he watched her and pondered the change he had kept harping on in his mind. Sure, she wasn't how she used to be, there was something wrong with her. He could see it, feel it. Yet, this change he spoke of time and time again to himself was not something that he could say was bad. When they stared at each other there was something more, now. Some flicker, some ghost in her gaze, meaningful and no longer innocent. It scared him, and yet Angus had been right. Sitting at this table all those long mornings making friends, and becoming something more somewhere down the line, she still looked at him the same way. As if the world began and ended with him. It was not like he would expect a machine too or even a soldier from the future would. It was more, it was how everyone wanted that one person they cared for more than life itself to see you.

"Need a ride?" he asked still keeping his face a hard read. The machine looked out at the rain storm and then back to her companion.

"Yes." She nodded.

She slipped out of the booth, gracefully mechanical in her movements as she stood. They walked together to the exit when he opened the door for her. There was a moist dampness in the outside air as the rain fell in slanted sheets in the soaked parking lot. The girl tilted her head and looked down at her satin sundress and leather boot combo. "I didn't bring an Umbrella." She announced.

There was a playful frown on John's face. "All that clock work and no weather apps?" He teased.

Her response was an insulted frown. "I'm a cyborg, not a smart phone." She chastised coldly.

There was a shit-eating lilt of a grin of a Reese on his face as he aired out his field jacket. "Well one of those doesn't apply at least." He shot at her. The non-response to his playful barb was answer enough. He opened one side of his coat and motioned her to come toward him.

She seemed almost surprised as confused when he tucked her lithe body into his side, she was a perfect fit. He could smell all the sweet girlish scents worn to drive guys like him insane as he pulled her close. She was soft to the touch and intoxicating to be so close too. They both cast a glimpse of one another in close proximity and they lingered with softening eyes. But a crash of thunder shook the parking lot and the charged moment back to sobriety. He lifted the dark blue jacket over their heads.

"Come on!" with one arm around her and the other holding the makeshift canopy overhead, they jogged to Sarah's Jeep. He could feel the puddles dampen his lower jeans as they reached the dark blue vehicle. He figured that he'd open the car before letting Cameron get to the other side. He cursed Sarah's irrational fear of power locks as he checked his pockets.

"Something wrong?" Cameron asked.

"I, uh …" He did a double take when he noticed how close she was to him as they hid unsuccessfully under his jacket. "I can't seem to find them." He said quietly. The girl watched him with eyes so enticing he felt under a spell bundled so close together.

"Maybe it's in the jacket?" She offered. They had subconsciously closed the space between them till they could feel hot breath against one another's cheek.

"Probably." He nodded. She nodded back.

"I'll check this side." She turned her damping locks of chocolate hair frizzing slightly under the warm cover of his coat. As she looked John couldn't stop himself from burying his nose in her hair, smelling some exotic sent that he couldn't get enough of. The cyborg halted her search and turned back into his embrace. Their lips were inches apart as his nuzzling nose departed. Both were now becoming soaked.

"Is it on that side?" She asked.

"I don't know …" He said quietly. Their gaze only lasted a moment longer, before all the will John could possess broke apart the gravitational pull of their lips. He turned to check his pockets. When he did, Cameron slowly was drawn to him, lying her head against his chest as they were now fully out of cover.

When he turned back she was under his chin curled into his personal space. Water dripped down his soaked spikes of dark hair as he looked down at his cyborg protector. He slowly began to chuckle to himself watching her. She tilted her head in quandary at his reaction to everything. "I think I left them inside." He replied with a laugh of self-deprecation.

There he was standing in the rain, with his life in ruins with all he wanted. If this was some sort of sign the neon must have shorted before he could read it. So he laughed at himself and this crazy life.

"I'll get them." The girl spoke helpfully, breaking away from her protection.

Suddenly a hand shot out to grab ahold of hers. Cameron wheeled in surprise as she was pulled back into John's waiting arms. "Don't you dare." He said with smile ear to ear as he pulled her tightly to him and crashed his lips to hers.

They knew that there was going to be suspicion when they got back about why they were all wet, and why John looked like an idiot with that grin. But right now, under the neon light of an old diner and the applause of shuttering palm trees …

The future began with a kiss in the rain.

A rainy day romance for a rainy day.

"I Can't Get Started" by Warren Vache.