AN: If you've been reading my other fic, The Sarah Cameron Chronicles, this is unrelated. Rest assured that one will be updated soon. This one just snuck up on me and clobbered me on the head until I had no choice but to write it.
I think it's a one shot. The muse doesn't always give me the whole picture at first. She can be a little cranky, hmm... kinda like Sarah :)
Cheeks, CBLG, and Charenton, (What is it with me and people's who's fic writing names start with C?) anyway, you gals/guy rock. Thanks for the inspirations. Cheeks you are the update queen. No question. You rock socks! CBLG, uh, well, uh. you leave me speechless. And since I talk for a living. That's saying something. :) Charenton you are wicked, withholding videos? But hey I posted. Guess your evil plan worked. LOL
Rated M for fun and something else that starts with an F.
Comments sincerely appreciated. :)
Two hundred sixty-four days have passed since my son, John chose to enter the time bubble and chase after the terminator he thought he loved. He'd looked at me like he honestly expected I could go with him, like I could abandon our mission to stop Skynet and the threat of mankind's annihilation.
I love John. I always will. The decision not to join him on his journey through time cost me dearly. I made him a promise. Actually, I reiterated a promise I'd already made to him. I told him I'd stop it. I had no plan, no help, no hope, nothing but a desire to save him from facing the dismal future predetermined for him nearly 18 years before and simultaneously decades into the future.
The sphere pulsed and disappeared along with my son and a dubious terminator named Catherine Weaver. The air crackled with electricity, fire, sulfur, and shrieking alarms. There in front of me sat the damaged remains of Cameron. John's whole reason for going hadn't even made the trip with him. The trouble making metal bitch had been left behind. Yet another burden for me to deal with.
Former Special Agent James Ellison and a computer wiz named Murch proved to be great allies. An abandoned child named Savannah became a new reason to survive. Her safety a new priority. Stopping Skynet still the ultimate goal.
Two hundred sixty-four days of tracking leads, gunfights, arguments, strategizing, failed missions far outnumbering the successful ones, and several hail Mary plays later I was drop dead tired. Every muscle ached. My soul cried. The weariness threatened to overwhelm me. I was barely functioning. Rage my only solace.
Ellison and Murch picked up on my gloom and doom mood. They'd opted for the only sensible solution and gotten the hell out of dodge. They'd taken Savannah on a weekend camping trip. I was left alone with the metal.
Murch's genius combined with the cache of terminator and computer parts left behind by Weaver resulted in the full restoration of Cameron to her original self before she had foolishly agreed to John's plan to break me out of jail. Well, not quite her original self. She looked the same, but the changes to her being, to her psyche, and behavior were astonishing.
I lifted the half empty tequila bottle to my lips, took a swallow, letting the fiery liquid work it's magical haze through my body. Cameron stood stiff backed, in front of the window a few feet from where I sat on the worn leather sofa. She didn't fool me. I saw her reflection in the rain slicked glass. She saw mine too. She still liked to watch.
The booze loosened my tongue. "We've been stuck together for over two years now. Why do you always watch me?"
A bolt of lightning struck nearby, lighting her features. She looked haunted and possibly sad. The resounding thunder was enough to make me jump. I thought of my son as a small child. How he feared the thunder so much more than the lightning. It didn't matter that I'd told him the lightning was the deadly part. He still quaked at the booming cacophony.
"You fascinate me, Sarah." She kept her back to me as she answered my nearly forgotten question. Our gazes met in the reflection of the wet glass. The rain mixed with hail and pummeled the window. Mother nature's flash show continued followed by loud, rumbling thunder. Cameron never flinched. She stood less than an inch or two away.
I scoffed and shook my head slowly. "I'm not a lab specimen, Cameron. What's so fucking fascinating?"
"Everything about you. You are a constant contradiction. Hard/soft. Mean/sweet. Inviting/intimidating. Tough/tender. Strong/weak. Dedicated/conflicted. A soldier/a leader. A fighter/a..." she trailed off as her honey eyes drifted away from my image. "a lover?"
A bitter laugh caught in my throat. "What do you know about love, girlie?"
"Love is a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person."
"I didn't ask you for the definition."
She cocked her head to the right and thought for a moment. Her eyes once again staring at me through our mirror images. "If you do not want to know the definition then tell me what it is you do want?
Good question. What the hell did I want? I didn't know. I only knew I was tired of being alone. Tired of not having anyone to talk with. Anyone, that is, who actually understood the weight of the world and the full impact of the impending war.
Murch was a stand up kind of guy. He knew computers backward, forward, and inside out but when it came to the realities of what a terminator was. What their sole purpose truly was. He was clueless. He wanted to play chess or dungeons and light sabers or some shit like that. He honestly thought he could be friends with them. Poor bastard.
Ellison was a little better. He had witnessed some of the nightmarish hell a terminator can wreak upon the earth. Enough to add a few wrinkles and a touch of gray to his temples. It suited him. He still had faith in a higher power and miracles though. Also his time with the FBI had shaped him. He saw things as good and bad. No in-betweens.
Savannah was adorable. Smart and resilient. I hadn't wanted to open my heart up to her but she made it impossible not to. I loved her like she was my own. I would protect her at any cost, but she was still to young to burden with the complete picture.
No currently living human could possibly understand the whole picture. Murch and Ellison still gave me looks sometimes. I could tell their fingers were itching to dial 911 and have my ass carted off to the nearest loony bin.
Then there was Cameron. A terminator, yes, but so much had changed. Murch's skills and Weaver's hand me downs had tweaked her in all the right places. Eyes the color of strong whiskey which once had no depth, no character, no soul, now had all that and more. So much more it frightened me more than the emotionless eyes.
"What is it you want, Sarah?" she prompted again. The intensity of her stare being conveyed through her reflection. Her lips quirked in a tiny half smirk. "Tell me."
I still didn't know the answer.
Hell, maybe I did. A vision of Cameron, in mismatched bra and panties, sauntering by John's room, distracting the hell out of both of us, flashed in my head at the same time more lightning flickered. Low, echoing thunder rolled through accompanied by a replay of the day we first met.
A fire was our only light. Cameron was digging bullets from her flesh. Not exactly a sexy image but somehow it was. Her concentration kept her focused on her task, allowing me plenty of time to marvel at her. I'd never met a female terminator before that day. The male's had all scared me beyond words. Cameron didn't scare me like the others. She intrigued me. Something stirred within me as I watched her. THAT scared me.
Skynet's decision to send an innocent doe eyed girl was the ultimate deception. Their first really smart move, in my opinion, at making a viable infiltrator. A terminator who could actually do the impossible and earn trust. One that John and I would invite into our home and live side by side with.
Before I knew it I was confiding in her, depending on her, believing in her. Sure, she'd deceived me and my son, but somehow she always won back our trust. I couldn't blame John's teen hormones for making him want her anymore than I could blame my own libido for making me burn with desire for her. I fought the constant cravings. Yelling at her, hitting her, pitching her out a window, even ditching her more than once. She always came back. I always let her.
"Tell me, Sarah." she said again, jarring me back to the present.
Admitting the truth was not possible. I opted for a question instead. "Murch says you have freewill, that you no longer have a mission or directives. You make your own decisions. Is that true?
"Yes."
The implications of that one little monosyllable word hung in the air. A dozen or so streaks of lightning flashed like paparazzi flashbulbs. The roars of thunder that followed so powerful the windows vibrated.
"So why are you still here?"
"Murch and Ellison are taking care of Savannah. I am taking care of you."
That pissed me off. My anger breaking through the euphoric effects of the tequila. I unsteadily got to my feet. "Who the hell ever said I need to be taken care of?" I threw the bottle with everything I had. It hit her squarely between the shoulder blades. She didn't even twitch. Just spun to face me and marched toward me at a rate of speed that should have made any sane person retreat.
Cameron's eyes flickered to blue. A trick of the lightning or her terminator side fighting for control. Her right hand reached toward my head. I expected a punch or a stranglehold. I wasn't sure if I dreaded it or welcomed it. I'd been fighting too long. I had nothing left to give at the moment.
Instead of striking me she cupped my cheek. Her left hand settling on my hip. Firmly guiding me closer. This had to be a dream. There was no way she was leaning in. Going for a kiss.
And yet she was.
And me? I was blushing furiously. Biting my lip. Watching her succulent lips moving ever closer. I wasn't pulling away or screaming at her to stop. I was standing perfectly still. Afraid to breathe, to do anything at all to shatter the spell.
She smiled hesitantly. The little half smile I both loathed and loved. I closed my eyes and slowly opened my mouth. An invitation or a curse about to escape my lips. Neither happened. Her lips met mine, a soft press of tender, moist flesh. We moaned at the same time.
The tempest outside raged. Matching tempo with my thudding heart. Thunder clapped so loudly I thought surely the lightning had struck inside the house. Cameron eased back. I slowly opened my eyes.
The power had gone out. Darkness engulfed the room. Her beautiful doe eyes the only points of light. They asked for approval and encouragement. To see one of the most kick ass beings on the planet, so vulnerable, so beseeching made me almost lightheaded. I was in control. I overpowered a terminator. This time I didn't want to crush it and watch life drain from its eyes. I wanted to breathe more life into it. I wanted to touch her, kiss her, melt into her. I couldn't deny her. I didn't want to. All I wanted was her.
I pulled her mouth to mine with both hands. My tongue flitting against her bottom lip. Then licking from corner to corner. She whimpered softly. One fist tangling in my hair. The other reaching down to cup my ass. Her body urging me backward.
I groaned at the rough contact with the wall. Cameron had perhaps momentarily forgotten her strength. "Easy, girlie." I managed to gasp when her mouth left mine to pursue a path to my neck.
She kept her head down but her eyes met mine briefly. "You are Sarah Connor. The ultimate bad ass bitch. Do you really want me to take it easy on you?"
I laughed. Then tucked my head to claim her lips again. I bit her bottom one. Not enough to draw blood but enough so she read my answer loud and clear. Our tongues entangled. Hands exploring. Bodies grinding. Every nerve ablaze with passionate want. Her touch the only thing that mattered.
She sucked on the lower part of my jaw. Her tongue teasingly thrusting in time with my pulse. I had to explore her. My hands moved from her hair to her face, down to her breasts. Her nipples as hard as granite. Pressing against my palms. She moaned again. Her head lowering. The tip of her tongue leading the way to the tank top covering my chest.
Her tongue traced my nipple through the fabric at the same time her fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans. "I have wanted you so long." she murmured while sinking to her knees.
I swallowed. I wanted her too. Probably for the same amount of time or longer. I couldn't bring myself to say it. The cost would be too much too soon. I put my hands in her tousled hair. The silky tresses impossibly soft.
She lowered my zipper then slid her hand inside, under my panties. "Mmm, I think you are ready."
She was right. I was soaked. On the verge of orgasm from her touches and kisses alone. "Please shut up."
"If I shut up I can't lick you."
Good point. "How 'bout this? Don't talk. Just do."
She nodded once before forcefully jerking my pants and underwear to my knees. Her face buried against me. I bucked against her. Climaxing as her tongue hit home. She didn't relent. Just pressed harder. Granting me release after release until knees buckling, body trembling, breathing in gasps, I could no longer stand.
She pulled me to the floor then. I thought I might be able to catch my breath. She had other plans. Really good plans.
The end or the beginning?