Disclaimer: Don't own Terminator.

This is my first Terminator story, lemme know what you think. LoX

Of Mice and Metal

John was passed out on the couch. He'd gradually lulled himself to sleep like any teenager would doing math at 1:00am. Cameron sat at the kitchen table; constantly looking out the window, constantly looking out for John. An open notebook rest in front of her. The open pages were filled with mathematical equations and notes written in near perfect penmanship. At the top of the page, in the right hand corner, it read "Cameron Phillips" in unique, yet elegant, freehand cursive.

Derek came down the stairs and walked down the dark hallway to the kitchen. He was fresh out of the shower and had only gym sweats on. Cameron stared as he entered the kitchen. She could see little traces of water roll of his body and plummet to the floor with each step he took. Derek opened the fridge and grabbed ham, cheese, and mayo. Cameron had predicted this event taking place. Derek took showers later then the rest and made himself a sandwich after almost every shower. The inclination to make one for him ahead of time had occurred, yet for some reason, she never made him one.

"You do this often." She said monotonously. Her eyes now fixed on Derek.

"It's called enjoying what little shred of comfort and routine i have left." He snapped. He opened a cabinet and grabbed some bread. "It's a human thing and something you'll never understand." he added.

"Probably not. I am not human." She replied.

"I fucking know you're not human." He said sarcastically.

"You do not use such language in front of the others." Cameron implied. She had noticed that he used more vulgarities and obscenities when the other housemates were not around.

"Ever think maybe you just bring it out of me?" Derek set the bread knife down and fixed his eyes on a seemingly perplexed Cameron. He couldn't see her eyes, but she hadn't responded, which was odd. Then, form her shaded silhouette came a voice.

"I had not considered that." She paused. "Though i understand now. Your experiences have made you weary and fearful of machines. You can never let your guard down around me. Your vitals indicate high levels of stress regularly. I now know that's because of my presence." Derek didn't know what to say. He held his gaze, refusing to break eye contact, refusing to show the machine the very fear it spoke of. Cameron stood and leisurely paced towards towards Derek. He held his ground. The moonlight peering through the window faintly illuminated Derek's body. "Why did you get tattoos?" Cameron plainly asked. Derek sighed then lifted his forearm to the moonlight.

"Well, this one.." he pointed to the bar code.

"Not that one." Cameron interrupted. They held cold stares. "I know what that one is from." She paused. "This one." She pointed to his chest. The tattoo was a endo-skeleton head. One eye was red and a pipe was jammed through the other eye skewering the terminator skull. The tattoo was elaborate. Circuits frayed near the base of the neck and the machines face was menacing. Derek felt Cameron was intrigued, but dispelled the notion of a machine capable of interpersonal intrigue.

"It's paying homage to a memory." He paused. "I fought for my life." He said calmly. Cameron sat down on a bar stool near the other side of the counter. They now faced one another, but Derek could only see the shadowed outline of Cameron's body.

"Please share this memory with me." She kindly asked. Derek couldn't believe the words he heard.

"Why do you care?" He asked. The machine said nothing. "Fuck it." He said aloud while exhaling heavily. "I was separated from my squadron. Our mission was to blow the old St. Roberts hospital to shit. We didn't know much about what was going on there, other then it was loaded with metal. We just wanted to take out as many of you as we fucking could. While we rigged the C4 we were ambushed. Four chrome jobs, T-101's. There were ten of us. We kept numbers small to avoid detection." He continued making his sandwich; pausing briefly.

"That was an efficient tactical strategy." Cameron said. Derek nodded, took a bite, gave it a few chews, and swallowed it.

"They opened fire and we split up fast. The rest the group made it to the stair case that lead to the ground level, but i got cut off. I waited for the toasters to finish their reconnaissance and clear out before i made a go at the stairs. But before i could do shit, one of them found me alone in the radiology lab with three rounds left in my sidearm."

"Survival rate in that situation is extremely low" She said curiously. Now she sounded intrigued.

"I grabbed a loose steel pipe hanging from a bed frame." Derek set the sandwich down and lit a cigarette. After a long first drag, he set the cigarette in an ash tray. "It didn't come right after me. Not like they always do. This one paced perfect circles around the room; mirroring my own movements. The fucker could have easily overpowered me, but it didn't."

"It indicated you as a potentially higher threat than the average human. You are physically fit. Your scars were most likely interpreted as signs of prior combat experience. We distinguish soldiers from the common human being, and they are treated as such." Cameron picked up the cigarette, took a drag, and set it back in the ash tray. The surreal event couldn't comprehended by Derek. He picked up the cigarette and said nothing of it. What happened next made it impossible to forget. Cameron puckered her lips and proceeded to blow perfect smoke rings. Her eyes trace their shadows in the moonlight until they finally fade. "How did you survive?" She asked.

"I went at him as fast and low to the ground as i could. I put every ounce of force i had into a blow to its knee. It went down hard, like I'd actually caught it by surprise. It got to a knee and i just started pounding the fucker in the head as hard as i fucking could. Its movements gradually got slower and slower. It had a hold of my ankle but i swear it's grip loosened with every blow. I got above it as fast i could, put three rounds in the neck, and drove the pipe strait through it's eye. I don't know if i destroyed it, but it wasn't moving and that was all that fucking mattered. I got out after that." Derek took a drag. Cameron said nothing. "You don't believe me."

"The odds of surviving the conflict are near impossible." She said sternly. She stood up and began to walk towards the hallway. "But you are not lying." She took a step towards Derek and placed a hand over the tattoo slowly. Derek was frozen, but his skin was hot. "Now i understand. Thank you for explaining." She turned away and disappeared in the darkness of the hallway.

Now, review. Please don't bitch about what Dereks tats really are and shit...just incase you were gonna! peace.

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