A/N: If they discontinue that show now, I'm going to be pissed as hell. It cannot end on that note.

Chapter Two

Her List, His Confidence

John woke up with a sweat on his brow. His eyes fluttered slowly before opening as he attempted to connect with his surroundings. He groaned inwardly when he realized that it was still night. He likely had had another nightmare or freaky dream, and now that he had tried to see what was around him John probably wouldn't get back to sleep for a long time. He sighed and stared at the ceiling; a trickle of sweat ran down his arm. He decided to circumvent his thoughts towards figuring out why he was so warm tonight while running fingers through Cameron's hair.

Cameron's hair? John's senses became more alert, and he was aware that his hand was indeed in the Terminator's hair. In fact, he was suddenly aware that he was much warmer and heavier. His eyes flicked to his left to see Cameron's unwavering gaze, brown pools watching him softly. He suddenly realized that she was on top of him, and had her limbs wrapped around him. He sincerely hoped right now that this was a dream. If it was a dream, it was a nice one. If it wasn't a dream, then he had questions buzzing inside of his head. "Cameron?" he asked.

"You have not attained the required amount of hours asleep, John," she said quietly. "You need to return to sleep."

"Cam, it's not that I don't enjoy your company, but why are you on me?" he asked.

"Your body temperature was dropping, and there was a possibility you would get a cold."

"You could've just pulled the covers back over me, you know," John told her. He felt his will weaken when Cameron's eyes flicked over him with what had to be a hint of humanity and something else.

"I know," she answered. John struggled to restrain himself. Cameron fortunately provided a good distraction. "You require sleep, John."

"I can't right now," John explained, his eyes locked within hers. "I'm too awake." Especially after waking up from being too hot and then finding you sprawled over me. This will definitely be a plus when we get married. I still can't believe she got my mother to go along with this. Ah well; time to start counting sheep. One sheep, two sheep…

"Would you want me to tell you a bedtime story?" Cameron asked. Seeing the surprised look on John's face, she added, "You once said your mother told them to you when you were younger. If it will assist you in returning to a theta-delta brain pattern, then I will narrate one."

John could not see his Cameron telling a bedtime. Her version of the three little pigs would have the wolf driving a Bradley battle tank and the pig in the brick house with a Jaguar rocket launcher. On any other occasion, that would be funny, but right now I want to get back to sleep. That and I won't be able to think straight tomorrow if I'm busy remembering Cameron all night. "How about you tell me your list of favorite things? Do you have one?" he asked.

"I can formulate one in .79 seconds," Cameron told him. John gave the slightest nod, and her processes combined to complete the list. "Favorite thing number one is not a thing. It is a person. My first favorite thing is you. I love you."

John started to close his eyes to rest, listening to her voice. He mumbled that he loved her too, and Cameron felt a tinge of joy in her emotion simulator. She continued down her list. "My second favorite thing is how you smell. It is a pleasant aroma." John's eyes opened a little to glance at her with an amused smile. "Close your eyes, John." His look remained skeptical. She calculated what was funny to him. "You have a pleasant aroma. I have found several processes autonomously displaying objectives to take your shirt for the smell." So that's what happens to my shirts, and why they're all over the place. I can't be blamed on that. He closed his eyes again and let her continue.

"My third favorite thing is the set of emotions that are created by my emotion simulator whenever you are the source of emotion. My fourth favorite thing is your physique; you are in good health and I prefer your physique over that of other male humans," Cameron explained. At least one of us likes it; I wouldn't mind being stronger, and being the tough one. But Cameron likes me… "My fifth favorite thing is your lips." John's eyes shot open again. He looked at Cameron, his heart starting to pick up speed. Cameron's face was blank, but there was something in her eyes. "They taste nice when we are kissing," Cameron told him.

John's mouth watered. He found himself thinking about Cameron's lips; his body began to ache. He moved forward and brought his lips to hers, and Cameron did not object to the kiss. He kissed her as long as he could, until he found himself asleep again. Cameron backed away slowly and watched John's body go limp as he slept again. She stored the data for further time, when John would not sleep. She continued to watch him in sleep in absence of something to do; Joseph was patrolling the yard. And she enjoyed watching him sleep.

*****

The spray of bullets nearby alerted John to where the T-888 was now directing his aim. He didn't duck down but unloaded more automatic fire into the Terminator. It had caught him, Cameron, and Derek on the way to the store for groceries. After Cameron had flipped their car over to serve as a barrier, Derek and John were standing behind it while Cameron was attempting to flank it, standing out in the open. So far the T-888 was changing fire on them every so often, a shotgun in one hand keeping Cameron from getting too close, and an automatic to attack Derek and John. John hadn't taken cover or ducked down once, and Derek was getting concerned about it.

"John! Get down!" Derek shouted at him. The kid must be either really stupid today or really crazy. Hopefully it's the first one. "They're called Terminators for a reason! Get down before the metal shoots you!" John didn't answer at first, still plugging away into the T-888.

"I don't need to," John replied as he loaded another magazine into the assault rifle. Seeing the incredulous look in his uncle's expression out of the corner of his eye, John added, "The law of consistency refuses to let me die before I can send everybody back. So I'm pretty much immortal right now. Scientifically the Terminator can't hit me." He fired again as Cameron moved slightly closer to the Terminator. He's definitely both. Hasn't he thought that maybe he won't get shot because somebody—like me—takes the hit for him? He needs a good hit in the head, or the future's screwed.

Derek ducked around the car and fired at the Triple Eight's legs. It turned the shotgun towards Derek as he hid back behind the car, and the brief move was all Cameron needed to get close. Dropping her gun she closed the distance between herself and the T-888. Her knife was out and ready in the same motion that drove the blade through the weak spot in the endoskeleton skull. The T-888 slumped and fell back as Cameron pulled her knife back out of the endoskeleton. She walked over to the car to right it. John and Derek moved out of the way, and Derek took his nephew aside.

"Look, just because of that law thing, it doesn't mean that you can just run around doing what you feel like," Derek warned. "Just because you're John Connor doesn't mean that you're invincible. We don't need you having some messed up issues because something terrible happened because you thought nothing could go wrong. Got it?" John gave Derek a typical teenage defiant look, and Derek got the message that he wouldn't be able to get through to John, yet. He moved to help Cameron with the Triple Eight body.

"John did not duck during the fight," Cameron noted. She singlehandedly threw the T-888 body in the back of the car. "His risk exposure was too high." Derek noticed that her voice changed when she talked about danger to John. I know it, but that doesn't mean I have to like the metal. Still, she should be able to talk some sense into him.

"He needs somebody to explain that he's not immortal," Derek replied. Cameron turned to face him.

She closed the trunk. "You think I should tell him?" Cameron asked. Recalling memory………matching comparisons: zero; Derek has never asked me to talk to John………store change in behavior and observe for more; change is imminent.

"Seeing as how you could ask him to walk to the east coast and he'd run, yeah," Derek muttered, heading for a car door. Cameron didn't answer this time and got back in the driver's seat. She noticed John and Derek had a little bit more trouble with their doors; the right side was partially crushed and the side mirror was gone. That would reduce her ability to spot obstacles by 7.9%. She duly noted it and drove off, leaving only Terminator blood and empty rounds to mark a small struggle.

Recording Personal File #79843………attacks on John are becoming more sparse; Skynet seems to have reached a conclusion that is beyond my capability to estimate; Skynet, based on previous knowledge, will not stop; it would be prudent to begin expecting a new stratagem to destroy John Connor and implement defensive protocols as soon as possible. John is becoming bolder in attacks against Terminators. Derek Reese was correct in his hypothesis; John must know that recklessness is a futile defensive protocol for counterattacking T-888 models. I will implement a confrontation at the purchasing facility. End of Record; Now scanning for hostile targets and obstacles………Resuming task 'weekly shopping'………

Their car, slightly damaged on the right side, nevertheless made it to the store without any further problems. Derek got out and headed in, followed by John and Cameron. Derek, the oldest there, was in charge and so had the shopping list. He grumbled about some of the things Sarah had placed on the list. Why do we need so many different types of vegetables? Just get a lot of potatoes and a lot of just bread; we don't need cereal or pasta because we've got bread and pancakes. And what on earth is vanilla? Or Pillsbury for that matter; both of them say for John and Cameron to get them. And I'm not even going to touch the tampon; that one's all Cameron's. It better not be for the bloody metal.

"Hey," Derek called to them. "John, look at this and see the specific things your mother wants you to pick up." He handed the list to John, who looked over it with Cameron. You would think that all of that fugitive running would make my mom more subtle in her shopping lists; it's a good thing Derek doesn't know what those make. Wait…tampons?! Cameron's holding onto those. I hope Mom doesn't intend to give one to Cameron, that's just awkward. John handed the list back to Derek, who left to go find milk and a shopping cart. Both men were disturbed by the last item on the list.

"Do you remember everything?" John asked Cameron.

"Yes," Cameron replied. She cocked her head to the side. "Do you?" John smiled and sighed; they headed to the isle with the Pillsbury dough. John stayed out of the isle when Cameron stopped on the way to pick up two boxes of tampons. He sincerely—and feeling quite disgusted with himself at the same time for thinking about the subject—hoped that a woman needed two. I don't want to think it, but hopefully she's stocking up. Yuck. John was glad when they arrived in the requested it and began picking up what Sarah had specially requested. At one point, Cameron reached high for something, and the hem of her shirt lifted slightly. John felt another urge to kiss her, and decided it would be fine to kiss her cheek. He leaned forward…

…and kissed the tampon box.

Immediately the future savior of humanity jerked back as though he'd been burned. He felt a terrible urge to vomit and kept it in check. He felt ultimately dirty and wanted to bathe in bleach. John wiped his mouth repeatedly and nearly spat everywhere. Cameron watched, emotion simulator expressing amusement, as John reacted in a way that only a human male teenager could. When John was done purifying himself from a memory that would haunt him, he turned to Cameron slowly and managed to sputter out, "Why? Cam, why on earth did you…why did you do that?"

Cameron's answer was smooth monotone, although half her processes were aborting attempts to laugh. She assumed that the situation struck her as funny. Normally the cyborg would be excited that she was discovering a sense of humor, but right now she had something more important to discuss with John. "You are not allowed to kiss me, John Connor, until we have spoken," Cameron explained. John's face was a flurry of confusion and immediate desire. The concept that humans want what is forbidden was quoted by a process. "We must discuss your battle tactics. You have been behaving improperly in combat."

John knew immediately where the conversation was going. He remembered Derek's attempt at it from a few minutes ago, and knew Cameron likely had the same thing to say, yet he found himself listening intently to her voice. "The law of consistency states that I can't die until I can send someone back, Cam. I'm not worried," he explained.

"This is true," Cameron agreed, "but it does not state how you must arrive in the future. You could send me back in the future crippled, blinded, deaf, mentally inured, lame, and a series of other debilitating effects, and the law would not be broken." John hadn't thought about that idea. Nothing had ever said how he looked in the future; he sure didn't want to be blind either. "Also, my processes over clock when you willingly place yourself in high-danger situations." Even if the first reason hadn't made sense, he would've agreed for that one.

"Fine Cam, I'll be more careful," John agreed with a sigh. "It's just frustrating that after taking on Skynet itself with our bare hands—um, right?—that we have to fight other Terminators. It's like Skynet doesn't understand, or as if fate is making an anticlimax. I've seen the worst the other side has to offer, and I'm not worried anymore." Cameron understood what John meant; he was upset that he was still forced to act carefully against regulars after defeating the general of the machines. "Can I have a kiss now?" John asked hesitantly.

Cameron recalled a touch of information, and knew she could now act on it. She held up the tampon box he had kissed, and stated, "This was for me." John made another sickened face, and this time she let herself laugh when her processes autonomously requested it. She kissed his cheek afterward, although she wanted to kiss his lips. They were her sixth favorite thing, after all.