The Thing With Thongs.

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"Okay," Sarah's voice of command cut through the tension at the table between the cyborg and Derek. "Me and Derek are off to scour up some ammunition and weapons. You two have an easy day. Get some new linen for the house. We all need new bedding, and food. You know where the Costco is, Cameron."

There was complete silence from the cyborg, which felt it lasted far longer than the 15 seconds or so that it did.

Sarah's foot started tapping testily, "Cameron, you know where it is?"

Her eyes darted toward Sarah, "Yes, I have it." Economy of language and of response. Everything tamped down in company.

"We moving up in the world Mom? Costco." John piped up.

"They have food there, eat there after you've finished shopping. Then bring him home here, nice and safe. You got that, Cameron."

"Check."

"Derek, ready?"

"Check." He irritably shook his head. The damn cyborg had outwitted him again, aping his, "Check" to instructions from a senior officer and beating him to the punch. His dark eyes looked across the table at her, the edge of her lips curling an almost imperceptible smile of superiority. He wanted to kick her, but knew it was no good. Damn

Then Derek and Sarah left, walked out the door, gone. One moment they were there, the next gone. John felt like it was subtext for his future life? All those he loved out the door and gone forever? The thought was horribly sad. He remember the horrible quote from Derek, "We all die for you."

Then was alone with the deadliest, loveliest creature he had ever known.

"Shall we go?" Asked John.

"No point, they don't open till 10, it's only 7. Only takes 20 minutes to get there."

She heard the low-thrum of Derek's truck head down the highway, took a quick peek out of the window. John had the strangest feeling that she was ensuring they were alone before doing whatever came next in her plan. She always had a plan, always. In all of the other conduct that surpasseth his understanding, he knew she always had a plan.

Did he need to run?

Cameron turned towards him with the animation in her face that was only present when they were alone. "We have two hours free time." She looked lasciviously at him. He felt like she was about to eat him. "Got any good ideas as to how we should spend that usefully?"

"Uh, Cameron, I didn't sleep great last night. D' you mind if we just hang for a bit?" Was there the slightest hint of disappointment before her Mona Lisa smile glued back on?

"Whatever you say, commander Connor."

They lazed around for two hours, John took up station on the sofa in the Den. Initially, he lay down with his feet on the wings, his head and body taking up two of the three cushions. Cameron sat in the third, watching the television, trying vainly to watch something educational or of value, but failing. She turned off the one-eyed god and checked out her internal DVR, perhaps she could glean more information from her saved files. She settled down, and in the quiet John eventually turned and as he did so he placed his head on her lap, as she knew he would. She stroked his hair, and head, calming him when the fears took over.

At 0900 precisely, she increased the pressure of her ministrations on his shoulders. This had the effect of slowly and gently waking him from slumber. He woke and rolled off the sofa, and mooched off to the washroom. He washed himself and brushed his teeth and was ready to go. Cameron was ready to go and held the door open, preceding him through the door, leaving him to close it and set the alarm.

As she walked to the Toyota in front of him, John felt his face heat up. Once again, the peculiar fashioning of light made her clothing appear transparent. For a second, he almost reached forward to caress her butt. He looked down at his hands and shook his head at his own disgrace, she definitely was affecting him. At first glance, she didn't appear to be wearing anything underneath the short dress. She must be, surely. Why would she walk around without panties?

Another shaft of light, just as she got into the car revealed that she was wearing a thing he recognized as a thong. The tiniest thing, only marginally visible underneath her light chiffon dress. He has never seen a smaller thong, in truth, never seen a thong at all. It wasn't something Sarah wore. Or at least he thought so, what did Sarah wear down there. Casting his mind back, nothing in his memory connected with his mother's underwear. He could only remember her in jeans, T-shirt and boots.

He realized with a start, he had no real idea what women generally wore underneath the outer layers. However, he was sure that thongs didn't come much less than the one Cameron was wearing. Why would a woman wear a thong to Costco? How did he know it was a thong, anyway? Had he been reading dirty magazines on the sly to himself?

The cloth of her dress caressed her gluteal fold, as she leaned over to get something from the outer windshield. It was perfectly plain only skin was touching. John's anatomy responded alarmingly.

The sight was ineffably thrilling to him, and he couldn't work out why. She was, after all, merely a Robot. Something, not a someone.

Still more, why was she finding ever and more reasons to disport herself in fewer items of light clothing. He couldn't swear to it, but it _seemed_ to his teenage testosterone powered brain that in the company of Derek and his Mother she covered up like a nun . Then, there would be a change in circumstances, and they would be off driving to an errand alone together, and her clothing would become diaphanous. Either his judgement and recollection of facts and situations was becoming faulty by reason of his hormone explosions, or Cameron was deliberately teasing him.

His thoughts were upended. Cameron was a robot, she was not in infiltration mode, she was in protective mode. Did her programming cross over by itself? The thought destabilized him completely. He knew she was self-aware, but making her own decisions, outside her programming?

He looked across the car to see her in quiet contemplation. Only her eyes moving back and forth across the front, sides, mirrors, checking, checking endlessly. The restless checking for danger did not seem to interfere with her equanimity. She was indeed, a pleasant sight. An entirely attractive object to fill your vision, all sweetness and light, someone you would want to be your daughter.

The thought shocked him into sobriety, and as his mind returned from debauchery to the car, he involuntarily physically jerks as his jeans tighten behind the zipper. Cameron looks across from the drivers seat.

"Are you okay, John?"

He yawns, "I must have dropped off."

"Then you must have been staring at me in your sleep."

She glances across, all innocent concern.

His mind is blank, and his lips are frozen.

"I-uh."

Cameron concentrates on the traffic, and chuckles. John grimaces disgustedly and scrunches back into the seat.

"You are teasing me, you shouldn't be teasing me."

"Now, John, why would I tease you?

John was irritated. "Your motives as always, confuse me. Right now, I can't work out why you seem to be fully dressed when Mom and Derek, or anyone else are about. Then, when it's just you and me, you hardly seem to be wearing anything at all." He shrugged, "Its very difficult to concentrate."

"I don't sleep - -"

"Oh no," He cut her off. "You're now going to tell me that lack of underwear keeps a girl healthy?"

Cameron smiled, if it were possible, more wickedly than before. "I read that brevity is the soul of lingerie."* She giggled and concentrated on driving.

Somehow, she sits to attention in the drivers seat, and salutes with her right arm. This has the quite devastating effect of leaving shafts of sunlight pulsing through her shirt. He can see momentarily her right breast perfectly outlined through the temporarily transparent material. The breast is unencumbered by the support of a bra. Its perkiness elevated by the salute and the pointed part jiggling so nipply. Was she doing that deliberately, if she was, he was holed below the waterline.

"Ok, oh leader of men."

She glances across and despite his wriggling, his erection must be obvious, because her eyes fasten like gimlets on his lap.

"Do you need some help with that?" She smiles again, "I thought you were asleep, did I get that wrong? Does that thing get like that in your sleep?"

John coughs, and wriggles about a bit more on the seat, trying to cover himself. Somehow making things more obvious and causing Cameron to giggle.

"Cameron, you really shouldn't be doing this to me."

Her gallic shrug is a crime of sophist elegance, "What I do? I'm just driving the car and saving the future leader of the world."

They continue driving in silence for a couple of miles. John shifting uncomfortably and looking out of the window, trying to sneak the occasional peek at the driver. He was torn to shreds with the dilemma. At the front of his brain was his intoxication with Cameron. She was so beautiful, funny, wise and competent that she seemed the ideal companion. She had made it clear that she held no barrier to him having sex with her.

Then his mind did a back-flip. His brain was mulling a relationship with a machine. As leader of the world, (hah) he should be in charge of her, but look how that worked. This machine did what the heck it wanted and when it wanted. It/she sure didn't carry out his instructions. Nobody carried out his instructions.

He couldn't wait for this leadership gig to start, despite the horrible consequences for the world, just so he could kick a little ass and get a hot burrito when and how he wanted it. A beer would go down well, too. Fuckin' Skynet came along and buggered that up a treat. Karma is a bitch.

John didn't really know it, but he was very old-fashioned and loyal. His life had led him to few, but intense relationships. His Mother and Uncle Bob, to be precise. There was no such thing as a light and fluffy romance in his mind. If he were to have a close relationship with Cameron, it would be deep and it would last. His Mother would condemn him forever to hell.

Should he be making such a choice with this machine? While his mind carried out these computations, his eyes would relentlessly take his hormones back across the cab to the image of her right breast, lightly visible under the thin cotton of her top. It was always there, there was always something she did to take his mind off the job and onto her. This was too much for a young man like himself. Not for the first time, or the last, he was bitter at his destiny.

They stopped at a traffic light, and after scanning their surroundings carefully, Cameron looked over to him, spearing his soul with her eyes.

"John, have you thought that I might be sent here to lighten your life and its load?"

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*Dorothy Parker