Sometimes our experiences can leave scars so deep we bury our emotions because it hurts too much to let them have free reign in over our consciousness, but inevitably, the potential for them to re-emerge, in perhaps under the most bizarre circumstances, always remains, and my inner volcano was about to erupt...

"It cannot be trusted." Those words echoed through my head every time I was reminded this "young woman" was in fact not a woman at all. I'll admit it could be easy to forget sometimes. This was probably the most convincing model I had ever seen. But it wasn't perfect. It was a machine, a machine incapable of ever understanding what being or even just impersonating a human being really means.

But could anyone really blame me for not trusting something designed for the sole purpose of aiding in the extermination of human life? Maybe I do worry too much… After all, a machine's only purpose is what's in its programming, and this particular model had been recommissioned to assist us in the fight against our enemies. Well…except for that time it tried to kill my son after being damaged by an explosion…

It knew I didn't trust it… I could tell by the way it glared at me with those eyes…those beautiful dark brown eyes… they seemed so familiar…

I hadn't been with a woman since high school. I tried to tell myself that maybe it had just been a fluke. I was still young…too young to know what I really wanted…Who knows… it couldn't be less relevant to my life now. Now, my life was only about two things, keeping my son safe and preventing Skynet from coming online. At least that's what I tried to convince myself, but reality has the annoying tendency to be more complicated than what we'd all like to make it…

And now, every time I looked into this mechanical killer's eyes, I felt something. And it wasn't just her eyes… that flawless body, that beautiful, long, flowing brown hair I wanted to get lost in… Wait! I can't let myself get started in this direction! I could go crazy thinking about this for too long, and John, my son, already probably thinks I'm starting to lose my mind. Could anyone really blame me? Saving the world isn't a responsibility I'd wish on anyone. Maybe it was just the stress making me feel this way. What would Kyle think of me if he knew?

"Kyle's not here." It almost sounded like a whisper in my ear. Was my mind playing tricks on me?

Yes it was true that I had loved him, and now I was starting to have these thoughts about a machine… the same type of machine he gave his life to defend me from. Sometimes I felt like he was still right here with me, watching over me, doing what he could to keep me safe. I could almost believe it. But of course, he wasn't. Ever since Kyle and the Terminators had come into my life, I had felt almost totally disconnected from the past. But now there was a beautiful young woman living in my house, serving as a constant reminder of what once had been, of a person I once had been, before killer cyborgs from the future starting coming after me and my son. And I thought things were complicated back then…

"Get a grip, Sarah! Remember the mission! You have to protect John, because he's all that matters now!" Was this the voice of reason? Was Kyle still trying to speak to me from beyond the grave? Whatever the voice in my head was saying now, it was right. I had to regain my composure and get back to work following up on these leads.

Then Charley Dixon's image flashed across my mind. Why? I don't know. Guilt, probably. His wife was now dead because of me. I understand this is a war, and wars have casualties. I know I have to be strong no matter the cost, even if it means watching horrible things happen to the people I care about. But we all need to love, and feel loved, and I do hate these fucking machines for keeping these things from me. I have to stay focused, I have to use my anger constructively, as motivation to complete this mission and prevent Skynet from ever being built. Then, maybe then, things will be different.

These thoughts still fresh in my mind, I wandered into the kitchen to grab a quick snack before John and Cameron get back from running errands. I had sent them out together to pick up some food and supplies, I thought having the house to myself for a little while would help bring me some kind of epiphany, but now I honestly felt even more confused. I suddenly turn around as I hear the front door opening and I see my son John emerge from the daylight streaming through the doorway followed by her…it.

"Hey mom."

"Hey. How'd it go?"

"Good. We got everything on the list you made, except for those pot pies you like. They were out of those."

"Bummer."

The two make their way into the kitchen, arms full of grocery bags, and Cameron carrying at least twice as many as John. I guess her superhuman strength can be good for more than just punching through walls… I wonder what else… I tried to avert my gaze, but as soon as she set down her load I could feel her staring straight at me. When our eyes met, she spoke.

"Sarah, Did you find anymore clues about that lead you were working on?"

I tried to respond as coolly as possible.

"Yes I did, James Martinez, a freelance software tester who used to work with Cyberdyne. He apparently claimed to have found a fatal flaw in the code Miles Dyson was writing."

As these words escaped my lips my eyes were transfixed on hers - her soft, shiny lips, I wanted them pressed against mine. She was undeniably beautiful, but this thing…wasn't even a person. Believe me, I knew how patently absurd this all was. Either way, I also knew these feelings would not go away on their own, and they were a distraction. I couldn't let them endanger our mission.

I went on, "If Andy Goode's Turk was based off the code Miles Dyson was writing to build Skynet, Martinez might have some information that can help us."

"So you're going to go talk to him?" John asked me.

"Yes. But in the meantime, John, can you start putting the groceries away? I want to talk to Cameron alone for a minute."

"Sure, I can do that, mom."

"Thanks."

It was now or never. "Cameron, let's step outside for a minute."

She followed me out to the backyard like an obedient little killer, and she looked even more gorgeous as her features glistened in the sunlight. I started to sweat… and it wasn't even that hot out...

"You wanted to talk… About the mission?" she asked me.

"I'll get to that in a minute."

Thank God only one of us was capable of feeling awkward, maybe I could use that to my advantage...