Hi. Thanks for the feedback and pm's. Much appreciated.

O, and seriously. I don't hate Derek. I just find him annoying. (which is a credit to Brian for playing the role so well :) I thought it would be interesting to explore the strife between him and Cameron. I didn't know quite how intense it was going to get. We should be lightening up soon :)

The usual. Pilfering. No beta. Bad language.

I think I'm paranoid, manipulated
I think I'm paranoid, too complicated

Steal me, deal me, anyway you heal me
Maim me, tame me, you can never change me
Love me, like me, come ahead and fight me
Please me, tease me, go ahead and leave me ~ Garbage

"I'm warning you. You son of a b-"

"John Connor." I cut him off.

A sheepish grin spreads across his face at the same time a blush creeps up his cheeks. "I didn't see you there, mom."

"I know." My expression softens. I gesture to the laptop he's just recently slammed closed. "Ghosts in the machine?"

He shakes his head. His hair is growing out again. The fringe nearly reaches his long lashes. "The stupid chip fried my last motherboard. Looks like we're going shopping."

"Not a chance." I back away holding the full laundry basket up in defense. "Last time you dragged me into one of your computer and gizmo stores I thought I'd have to pull my gun to get you to leave. You and Cameron can go. I'll have more fun washing clothes."

"Want us to pick up anything while we're shopping? Maybe takeout from the Wet Burrito?"

"I started a stew in the Crockpot hours ago. Can't you smell it?"

"So, uh the number 7 or the number 8?" His eyes sparkle and he's grinning like he did the first time he outmaneuvered me in the jungle.

I huff out a sigh but don't say anything. My craptastic cooking has made him happy. Who am I to wreck the mood? I'm halfway down the stairs when temptation wins. "Number 8." I say begrudgingly. "Don't forget the hot sauce."

Cameron walks in as I reach the bottom of the stairs. Her nose wrinkles. "Did the garbage disposal back up again?"

"Nope. Just mom's yummy home cooking. Come on." He races past me to grab the keys by the door.

"John needs a ride to the store. Try not to be gone all day."

"Only forty-seven minutes of daylight remain. Perhaps we should go tomorrow."

"So not funny, girlie." I grumble on my way to the laundry room.

They've only been gone long enough for me to sort and start a single load of laundry when my thigh vibrates and some chick starts singing about being paranoid and complicated. John's idea of funny. Reminding me again he needs more chores.

I snatch my cell phone from the side pocket of my cargo pants. Snapping it open quickly just to get the song to stop. I suck in a deep breath when I recognize the number. It's a call I need and loathe. I listen for the code and give my own in reply.

The seconds tick by. "Should I start humming the Jeopardy theme song?" I prompt after a while.

"I fucked up."

No shit. The words are on the tip of my tongue. I hold back, waiting a beat, hoping he will continue. He doesn't. "Yeah, you did, Derek." I say without anger. Just agreeing to get him to talk.

"Are you and John okay? Do you need anything?"

"We're hanging in. Still fighting the good fight."

"Good. Good." His words are clipped. "Where do we go from here?"

Now I'm silent. I honestly don't know.

"Look, I know things are bad between you and me." He sighs. I picture him raking his fingers through his hair. It's probably standing up in different directions. His eyes wide and wild like a feral cat's. "Tell me what to say to make it right."

"There are no magic words, Derek. I wish there were. John's been asking about you. You should call him."

"I'm allowed to?"

I nod. Then realize he can't see me. "Like I said, he misses you."

"What'd you tell him about me and the metal?"

I want to reach through the phone and throttle him. How dare he speak about Cameron like she's nothing but nuts and bolts? How can he not see all of the staggering changes within her? "I haven't told him anything. It's probably best for you to call John directly. I won't stand in the way or your relationship with him. You're blood. Kyle would want you two to look out for each other. I don't want him near Jesse though. Understood?"

"I got it."

"Good." I'm ready to hang up when he says my name. His tone is different. I wish I could see him. Get a better fix on exactly what's going on inside his head. "Yeah?"

"She's coming for you. Stay sharp." He disconnects.

I frown at the phone. I'm tempted to pitch it at the wall.

As if it can read my mind the targeted wall begins to shimmer. The center oozes outward like a deformed mushroom. The blob shrinking and elongating in a span of seconds before turning into the redhead of my nightmares. "Good evening, Sarah."

The phone slides from my grasp. Bouncing on the tiles and coming to rest against her high heeled shoe. I want the phone back but I'm not about to bend down at her feet.

The jagged scar between my pinky and ring finger has heated up and begun to itch and burn with a dull ache. Soon afterward the one near my eye begins to tingle. As do the ones on my knee and back. The fact that these are the areas where Weaver's forced merge with me left their mark is not lost on me.

"What the hell, Weaver? You could have called or used the front door like any normal pers- oh fuck never mind." I can't believe I almost referred to her as a person. Her sudden appearance has shocked me into stupidity.

"Telephones and doors are for underachievers." She sniffs the air and her nose crinkles just like Cameron's did just a short while ago. "Has something recently did in your home."

"I'm making stew."

"Ha." She shows her teeth. "I'd venture the more likely result will be either a poison or some sort of animal repellant."

"Like you could do any better. What the hell do you want?"

"Ah yes." she clasps her hands in front of her chest. Her bright blue eyes scanning me from boot to head. "There's the charming Sarah Connor I know and love. I've missed you."

"You could have just sent a postcard."

"And miss out on the fun of seeing you in person? I think not."

"Stop playing games with me. What do you want?"

Somehow her eyes glow an even more intense blue. The insincerity of her bared teeth makes her all the more intimidating. "I've come with a caution."

"All terminators should." I hope I sound brave. I need a distraction from her intensity. I can't give in and let her see the fear she invokes. I give her the same thorough once over she's been giving me. My eyes gradually traveling upward over the tailored silver dress until I notice a blemish near her left eye. There's a matching one just above her brow. I don't recall it being there the last time I saw her at the hotel in Daytona Beach. "I know you guys can sweat, bleed, and do lots of other stuff to blend in as humans but pimples? When did that start? The human you're pretending to be is in her thirties. You're a little old for zits."

She moves so fast I don't even see the hand coming until it's circled around my neck. She presses me backward until I'm laying over the washer. I tear and kick at her ineffectually as she worms closer. Her body draped over mine. She's sniffing like a demented German Sheppard. "You reek of fear." This time her smile seems genuine.

"You would too if a psychotic unstoppable bitch was on top of you about to choke you to death."

"Yes," she inhales deeply. "Remember this moment, Sarah. No matter what achievements Cameron makes, you are helpless against me."

The meaning of her words clicks in my head. "Cameron's not."

"You and John are. That's what matters." she releases my neck then slowly, way too slowly, backs up off me. "You are aware my intentions are only to form an alliance with you. I have information to facilitate your survival and John's as well as other future members of the Resistance. Take John to the lighthouse tonight. He will be safe there."

I steel my features. She can't possibly know about the lighthouse. "What are you talking about?"

"The lighthouse you sent Charley too. It's well secured. No one knows of it. Take John there. Then come to Zeiracorp when you and Cameron return. The three of us have much to discuss."

It's been months since I set Charley up at the lighthouse. I've only contacted him once. John doesn't even know where he is. How could Weaver?

"Trust me, Sarah. I have only your best interests at heart."

"You don't even have a heart."

"We'll see. Tomorrow morning. Don't make me come for you."

Til next time