Chapter Seven

"I hope John's feeling better."

"Mmh."

"And I hope he's talked to her."

"Hmm."

"I actually told him to, I must be loosing it…"

"Uh-huh."

"Derek, you've been grunting away at me for the past fifteen minutes. What the hell is wrong with you?" An irate Sarah threw the woolly hat she was holding at her companion.

"Ow! For Chrissake, woman, how am I supposed to drive like this?" Derek threw the hat back at her and continued to stare pointedly out of the windscreen.

"Don't you woman me" Sarah warned him dangerously. "I know you don't like the idea of John talking to Cameron as much as I do, but you saw him, Derek. He really seemed emotionally raw and distressed by her demeanour. And if getting it out of tin miss what's up with her will help my son and your nephew, then so be it" she put in deliberately.

Derek grunted, scratched his stubble, unwrapped another packet of chewing gums and placed them into his mouth – the likes of which he had been doing since right after they had left – and started chewing. He then shifted the considerable amount of chewing gum that had accumulated in his mouth from one cheek to another before he spoke, albeit with difficulty.

"Shere'sh noshing wrong wish her my good old plashma rifle couldn't have cured. Talking to metal indeed! Washte of bleedin' time" he grumbled.

"Derek, you know John sees more in Cameron than we do. You told me that yourself. I hate her for it, but I saw the way she was looking at him today, and it seemed… well, not normal for a terminator, more like how a young girl that cared for him would look" Sarah admitted, before adding in a commanding tone "and get rid of that disgusting chewing gum!"

They stopped at the traffic lights where they had to turn left to the mall. After the lights had changed Derek pulled away, tyres spraying snow, and turned sharp right just before the pedestrians started to cross. He lowered the window and spat his great wad of chewing gum out onto the crossing.
They were too far away and already out of earshot by the time the poor guy who had put his foot in it and had had to abandon his plimsolls started calling them all names under the sun.

"Where are you going? The shops are the other way" Sarah rather confusedly pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'll have to get that wing mirror seen to before we can go anywhere else" Derek had set his mind upon tending to his injured car and was obviously not to be deterred, she could see it in his face.

Rolling her eyes at male prioritorization, she folded her arms in a huff so very unbecoming of Sarah Connor and pointedly stared out of the window, quite reminiscent of Derek's behaviour from not so long ago. Her demeanour changed at once as Derek drew up outside a familiar fast food restaurant.

"W … what are we stopping here for?" Sarah asked and turned to Derek incredulously. "Surely you can't be hungry again?"

Derek chuckled "Nah. Well, yeah, come to think of it. But I'd rather wait for those pizzas."
He faced her with a sympathetic look.
"Look, Sarah, I know you won't want to come with me to the car dealer's. And I'm not too fond of shopping. Why don't you take the Jeep and go to the mall on your own? We'll meet back at the house in a few hours or so" he suggested.

"And what about John's book? That's what you dragged me out for in the first place, isn't it? To get presents" Sarah glared at him accusingly.

"Course I'm going to get John's book. Don't you worry. I know a shop that sells nothing but baseball gear and stuff, that's where I'll be heading" Derek said defensively.
"Only it's a long way out of town so I might be gone quite some time with the traffic and all that" he added hastily, not meeting her eye.

Not noticing his shifty glances, Sarah seemed pacified by that. She nodded and got out of the car. Turning back to Derek she warned "Try not to be too long, or John will have eaten your pizza."
With that she slammed the door making the car and Derek shudder and stalked off over the parking lot towards the Jeep that was still parked where Cameron had left it.

A violent surge in her power source made her entire system jolt, causing her to physically respond with something akin to a startled jump. She immediately tried to play back the sensation that had caused it, without success. Nevertheless, the replay of John's peck on her head returned that strange warm feeling inside her, the one she had experienced earlier that day.

Perhaps I was wrong and he would have appreciated it if I'd hugged or kissed him…

Deeming the notion as inappropriate and merely a result of corrupted data streams – Yes, that seems more probable –, Cameron slowly turned around to face him. She wanted to see his eyes, read him as only she could. She wanted to know if it was possible, if he really…

John pulled back at once as Cameron's body shook, presuming he had gone too far.
"I'm sorry, Cameron. I … I shouldn't have done that" he admitted more to himself as she turned huge brown eyes inquiringly and a little disappointedly up at him.

Before John lost the last of his resolve he had to focus on something other than those eyes.
"Come on, let's get that cut seen to. I suppose it'll need a few stitches."

He headed over to Cameron's desk where he knew she kept a first aid kit. Rummaging in the top drawer he finally found it and took it out to lie on the desk where he opened it. It was near enough half empty. And it had contained only the basic items to start with.
I wish they'd sell a cyborg's first aid kit…
Sighing, John made a mental note to find out where to obtain a professional first aid kit. He was fed up using pliers and wire cutters on her, he needed some genuine surgical instruments. Not that she minded, he supposed, but for him it always had the feeling he was about to mend a toaster or something when he went and got the toolbox to treat her.
Charley would have known where to get some…

He disinfected the needle with rubbing alcohol and threaded it with surgical twine, cursing ever so often as he missed. Having eventually found the eye, John then brought everything back with him to the bed, stood next to her and was just about to summon up the courage to start the suture, when Cameron interrupted him.

"I don't require stitches, John. It will heal of its own accord."

"But stitches would help it to heal faster, wouldn't they?"

"Yes."

"And sometimes it's nice to have help, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"See? I'll bet there'll be only a tiny scar left by tomorrow that way. Hold still."

It didn't take John very long since the cut only required five stitches. He was sure that by tomorrow it would be near enough invisible due to Cameron's amazing self-healing powers.
Choosing a suitable plaster he finished dressing the wound, sticking it down firmly at the edges.

"There. Finished. That's much better. Now you won't be needing those dreadful glasses" he grinned at her, put the needle and thread aside on the bed-side table and sat down beside her.

"Actually, I was considering keeping them" she declared, her small but mischievous smile back in place.

They both looked at each other, relieved that they were back as they had been before. A comfortable, cosy silence descended over them, as they were briefly lost in their own thoughts. John was pleased that Cameron was feeling better at last, seeing she had started teasing him again.
I sincerely hope she was teasing me…

And Cameron was pleased that John was smiling again and was no longer in despair because of her.
I like it when he's happy. It makes me feel … happy. I don't want to be the cause of my John feeling pain again…

Just when she had started to call John her John she did not know. It just seemed like the right thing to do. Like making conversation had been, a long time ago. She was glad she could talk to John, he would always listen.

John's always listening…
She knew she had been right, even though Sarah hadn't thought so.

The silence was finally broken by Cameron's voice.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did the hamburger man call her Sam?"

"What? Who do you mean?" John scratched his head, not understanding what she was on about. After all, she had just yanked him out of a beautiful daydream, away from the beach on a hot summer's day, the white sands stretching far off into the horizon as he broke out of a rolling wave with his beautiful cyborg girlfriend. He blinked at seeing her in front of him on his bed.

"At the restaurant, the man behind the racks called the girl who served us Sam. Why? Sam is a male name" Cameron elaborated her question with the familiar tilt of her head.

John absolutely loved her sometimes childlike curiosity and naivety. Chuckling to himself as he remembered Cameron's obvious dislike of the girl, he launched into explanation.

"Remember she was called Samantha?"

"Yes."

"Well, Sam is just short for Samantha. It's a nickname. Like, I dunno, Tom for Thomas for instance."

"Why are nicknames used instead of the proper name?"

"Well, I suppose it's because they're shorter. I haven't got one, see? Because my name's already short" he grinned.

"Charley called you Johnny" Cameron reminded him. "Is that a nickname, too?"

"Yep."

"But it's longer than John." Head-tilt extraordinaire.

"Err, yeah, you're right. Oh, I dunno. You use nicknames for friends or when you care about someone. Charley once said I was like a son to him…" John broke off sadly, remembering good old easy-going Charley.
If only Mom hadn't given him the elbow I might have had a normal life…

Telling himself that it would have only endangered Charley eight years earlier had he become part of their lives, John once more shook off another guilty memory that haunted his existence and brought his attention back to Cameron, the cyborg girl currently responsible for haunting his daydreams.

"Well, that's all that nickname thing is about, actually" he concluded.

"Oh. Thank you for explaining" she smiled at him, and then tilted her head again as if contemplating something.
"Do I have a nickname?" she asked almost excitedly.

She had done it again. Rendering John speechless was something she was getting better and better at. It took him even longer than usual to be able to produce a coherent sentence due to the puppy dog expression he was presently at the receiving end of.

"Um, well ... Err, I dunno. Nah, I don't think so" he pondered, considering the possibilities.
"I'm definitely not calling you Cam."

Seeing her crestfallen and somewhat hurt expression John quickly explained why.

"It's not that I don't want to, Cameron. I mean, Cam is kind of cute, but it's also the abbreviation for Cybernetic Anthropomorphous Machine, a term coined in the late 1960's by some military scientists who were working on robotics."

"Then it would be appropriate, wouldn't it?" Cameron deadpanned.
"I am a cybernetic machine and I was built to resemble a human."

This is too much…

"Yes, but…" John broke off utterly stupefied. Sometimes Cameron succeeded in rendering him speechless to an extent that he needed to take a deep breath to steady himself.

Having composed himself, he looked at her with an utmost serious expression before he spoke slowly and clearly, for he wanted her to catch his every word.
"I don't think of you as that, Cameron. I wouldn't like to think of my Cameron being reduced to a mere robot."
She watched him, his frown and piercing gaze telling her that he really meant what he had said. He then paused to mull it over, stroking his chin.
"But on the other hand," John finally concluded, "I don't think anybody will have heard of CAM nowadays, so it wouldn't be too bad, I suppose…" he started to grin at her.
I could get used to Cam…

Her eyes lit up paired by the brightest smile John had ever seen on her since New Mexico.

He called me his Cameron…

John, you have to learn to lock car doors…
Sarah shook her head at her son's carelessness as she opened the unlocked boot of the Jeep to have a look at the turkey John and Cameron had bought. Her jaw flapped as she took in the size of the bird lying snugly behind the rear seats, taking up almost entirely all of the space. She prodded it, sighing in relief that it was still frozen and slammed the door.
He must have been thinking of feeding an army. Good job Derek won't see anything wasted…

She got in the car, started the engine and was just about to pull out when she remembered John's rucksack. It hadn't been in the boot. Turning round to the back seat she saw the overstuffed and filthy thing lying there.
I should get him a new one, this is disgusting…

Having made her mind up there and then about getting John a new rucksack instead of trousers which he probably wouldn't wear anyway – the bright spanking new trousers a mother buys her son are never as stylish and comfortable as one's old ones with the holes in them –, Sarah backed out of the parking space and headed for the exit.

The twenty minute's drive to the mall seemed to be taking forever and a day, so many cars were about.
Good Gracious, haven't they got homes!…
She wanted to get this shopping lark over quickly, a quick dash round the mall should only take about an hour or so , she reckoned. Sarah whistled to herself mulling over which shops she needed to go to.
Clothes store, preferably H&M's knowing John, sports shop, beauty parlour, chemist's… Yeah, that should do. Hope Cameron appreciates it. Derek will, that's for sure…

Coming to the conclusion that Derek had probably forgotten all about the Christmas tree lights, Sarah decided she would purchase some at the mall as well.
She idly wondered if Derek would be getting her anything at all as the mall's car-park loomed up in front of her.

I just hope she swallowed that…
Derek was not at all sure Sarah had believed his story about the baseball book as he watched her stomp off towards the Jeep.
Sighing, he put his foot down hard on the accelerator and pulled away, his tyres spinning in the slush. He headed for the outskirts of town where he knew a trustworthy car dealer who had an ample supply of spare parts and also a pimp your car area.
Might as well get myself a Christmas present while I'm at it…
He was envisaging those awesome chromium roof spoilers he had seen in a magazine.

Traffic was heavy as were Derek's eyelids. He never slept very well with metal in the house, it made him be on the qui vive at all times. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, the drive from the car dealer's to their old house and back being a very long one.
Longing for the sofa, his pizzas and one or two six-packs of beer, Derek daydreamed once more about his perfect Christmas. Which included no Christmas tree, no metal and no snow. Not much to ask for after all, he maintained.

Just as he had finally reached destination number one he realized he had forgotten to ask Sarah about the metal.
Cursing to himself, he racked his brain, being at a complete loss as to what to get it.
Christ, what does it like? Ugh, why should I care anyway?

Sighing, Derek imagined his nephew's disappointed face at a present-less terminator. His lips curled in disgust as he tried to think of something Cameron might like. It was much easier for him to come up with things she would not like, all of them mostly involving thermite and mortal dismemberment.
It doesn't need anything. All it bloody does is stalk around the house all night, content in giving me insomnia, and getting blown up ever so often. And then it expects us to patch it back together. Wait a minute, that's not a bad idea…

Deciding he was onto something there, Derek grinned to himself imagining what John's face would be like when he saw his uncle's present to Cameron.
Hah! Yeah, definitely. Now where did I dump Charley's old stuff? Oh yeah, mustn't forget about those bleedin' tree lights, either …

A suspicious Derek let the SUV slowly coast to a halt outside the car dealer's, wondering why on earth the place was looking so deserted and why the car-park was completely empty. Any other day he'd had to threaten to duff someone up before he got a space. The car dealer was doing a roaring trade; evidently there were more men like Derek around.
Fearing the worst, Derek apprehensively got out, lightly clicked the door shut and strode over to the usually busy yet right now strangely abandoned looking office building. He stopped dead in his tracks in front of an ornate sign hanging on the inside of the closed door. It read in golden letters:
"Closed for X-mas holidays. Merry Christmas to all my customers"

Hating Christmas all the more, a frustrated Derek returned fuming to his car. Audibly more than closing the door after him for once and immediately patting it afterwards, he started the engine and pulled away, muttering 'bastards' to himself ever so often as he started his journey to their old house.

Cameron's smile was reflected off John's face. How she always managed to wipe away his tension with one smile, he did not know. All he knew now was that it was time to do something he had wanted to do all day. He got up, walked round the bed to her side and held out his hand.

Cameron lifted herself gracefully in one fluidic motion off the bed as she hesitantly took hold of John's outstretched hand with her tiny one. She slowly closed her fingers round it with a light squeeze.

"Thank you, John" she said with a shy smile.

"What for?" he inquired, the fact registering with John for the first time how polite and well-mannered Cameron always was. Well, nearly always, apart from the times she slipped into full protector mode, that was.

"For making me happy" she simply said, giving his hand another tiny squeeze.

John's eyes suddenly stung, but he nevertheless managed a grin.
He nodded towards the door of her room "Come on, let's go."

"Where are we going?" Cameron asked as they crossed the distance hand in hand.

As they stopped in front of the doorway John turned to face her with a piercing look in his eyes before he said cryptically "To do something I've been meaning to do all day."

Her lips parted ever so slightly in surprise as she slowly gazed up at him, her eyes huge, taking in every feature, every line of his face. She would never forget the sparkle in his eyes. Her head tilted backwards a little as she moved closer.
It seems I really was wrong. He would have appreciated it…

The next thing she new, she was being tugged through her doorway and hauled down the stairs by John who was rabbiting away like an excited child.

"We'll have to be quick before it melts. It can't last forever. Come on, let's get our coats."

Such was his enthusiasm, he never noticed the subtlest of glares directed at the back of his head and the exiguous pout of lips as a somewhat disappointed Cameron was pulled along to the hall where John had left his coat and scarf haphazardly in a heap on the floor.
Huffing a little, she waited until he had awkwardly inserted himself into his coat, wrapped his scarf around his neck three times and put on a pair of large, thick gloves he had found on the dresser. They were probably Derek's, judging by the size.

"What are you waiting for? Get your coat on" John urged her as he noticed she was still wearing the same things she had put on in the morning: Purple leather jacket, white top and denim mini skirt.

"I'm waiting for you, John. I don't need a coat" she deadpanned, still a little miffed.

"You can't go out like that!" John exclaimed, gesturing at the attire he usually loved. "It's freezing out, you'll catch a cold … I mean, you'll be cold."

The concern in his voice and his worried expression generated another feeling of warmth throughout Cameron's CPU. John's obvious care for her brought an involuntary smile to her lips, which she found quite intriguing, since she had actually wanted to huff a little longer. She couldn't help it. John just made her happy.