Story: Good Intentions

Chapter 11: Will the foreshadowing never end?

Disclaimer: Again?! Fine. I don't own anything related to the Terminator franchise. This work is not intended for profit.

A/N: If you're still reading these updates…well you obviously haven't learned from past mistakes. Why start now?

"Well? We ready to move on this?" Davis asked sharply.

They were gathered around a secondhand table in what passed as the dining room of their shoebox apartment. He and Sarah had wanted to go over the plan with Davis as quickly as possible. John and his pet terminator would be brought up to speed later.

"Pick Anderson up here." Davis was pointing to the ambush site. "Six hours later we hit the building."

Derek had to admit he wasn't used to seeing Davis push so hard. Not to say Derek didn't understand his frustration. It looked like Derek wasn't the only one getting impatient. There was a line between being prepared and being indecisive. And it felt like they'd crossed that line a week ago.

Sarah all but glared at Davis. "We need to check the house too."

She was stalling.

Derek decided to step in. "Easy. Watch 'em for a day. The kids have to go to school. Mom has to leave sometime."

Sarah turned her cold stare on him. "So it's that simple?"

Derek matched her stare. "It's that simple."

Derek wasn't used to seeing this side of her.

"I can handle it."

Their attention went back to the other resistance fighter in the room.

At their silence he went on. "You really want to send the machine? This sorta thing… it's kind of why I was sent."

Sarah looked over at Derek. Funny, as much as the two of them fought…

He caught her glace and nodded slightly. "He's right. It'd kill Anderson's wife and kids in a heartbeat."

Not that it had one.

Derek knew it would get the job done but the tin can's potential for "acceptable loses" didn't sit well with any of them. No. It had to be Davis. The tech was sent back with a specific purpose, just like his team. General Connor would have made sure he was prepared. He was too controlling not to.

Derek watched the struggle play across her face. "It's what he was sent back to do."

That statement and everything it implied-

It's what General Connor wanted.

It's what John wanted.

-finally got through to her.

Sarah sighed. "If you find anything, ransack the place. Make it look like a robbery."

Derek started to argue but let it go. Even if it they made it look like a robbery, they'd be under the gun. They had to grab Anderson, clean out his house, and destroy the research. And once they grabbed Anderson the clock would start ticking.

Better to move on.

Derek looked down at the map spread out on the table. He pointed to the intersection he wanted to use. It was just off the freeway, not quite in the residential area. "We should put the machine at the ambush."

With a narrow road and light traffic, taking an unarmed civilian wouldn't be a challenge.

And putting a bullet in the back of his head wouldn't be either.

He was kissing Cameron. The Terminator sent back in time to protect him. John was kissing her and if he didn't know it was impossible, he'd swear she was shy. She might have been shy but not unwilling. He could feel one of her hands resting on his bicep. The other held a loose fistful of his shirt.

Cameron's actions weren't perfectly human. Her touch was too steady, too planned.

Of course, without knowing she was a machine he never would have noticed. But John knew. He knew what she was.

And he didn't care.

John pulled back slightly. One of them needed air.

He stared down at her, idly playing with her hair. He loved her hair. Her eyes were closed. Her face flushed, lips parted. She looked like any normal girl, any normal beautiful girl.

"Cam." He breathed.

They needed to talk about this. If this was a line they were allowed to cross.

Her eyes opened. "John."

He watched her silently, trying to find the right words.

Then she tugged gently on his T-shirt, not enough to draw him towards. But the message was clear.

"John."

"I'll brief Cameron. John doesn't need to know about this."

Not a problem. They sure as hell wouldn't say anything. And metal was always good at keeping secrets.

Derek almost said it too. But it'd been a long night. The sun would be up soon. Sarah was still struggling with everything they'd agreed to, steeling her resolve. Right now, both of them could use a rest. He could get some sleep. Sarah could go home, check on John and not then sleep.

Derek watched Sarah fold up the map and pocket it. Grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch, he searched for the car keys. They'd tailed Anderson together. She'd end up taking the only vehicle he and Davis had access to if he didn't drive her back. They'd have to steal another. And they couldn't risk bringing down that kind of heat down right now.

It was really inconvenient, not living under the same roof.

It was also a lot less tense.

And it wasn't just being away from the machine. It was easier being around Davis, another resistance fighter. Similar experiences, similar mindsets, meant everything went a lot smoother. If there was an argument, they had rank and a chain of command to fall back on, even if it was only the two of them. It was almost familiar, like being part of a squad again.

Being around John and Sarah wasn't easy. Usually it was awkward. He had no idea how to act around John. He and Sarah were at each other's throats often enough. But it wasn't always like that. Sometimes John was just a kid who wanted to know about his dad. And the connection was just there. They didn't have to work at it. Then there were the times with Sarah, when they weren't arguing, that weren't so difficult. The future wasn't as hard to face when you weren't alone. It almost felt natural.

And then he'd think about Kyle and feel guilty.

He pulled on his jacket and waited at the door. "Ready to go?"

She should finish her patrol. Cameron's HUD displayed the current time, indicating she'd spent almost the entire night with John. A strict patrol schedule wasn't an absolute necessity. Normally, with such a small area and limited points of entry she would take position at a choke point. Either way, she was overdue.

John asked her to stay with him.

Cameron reconsidered the tactical situation. Their alarm system was armed. She would hear anyone before they reached the second floor. A quick survey of the room assured that her shotgun was within easy reach, under her discarded shirt. And John's Beretta rested on the nightstand. Should there be a threat she would be in the best position to see to John's safety.

Her logic was… incomplete, at best. Neither option, staying or leaving, bore a significant advantage over the other.

She didn't want to leave.

Cameron had never wanted anything before. Staying wasn't part of her mission. But it was important to her.

Cameron laid her head against John's chest. His heartbeat was slow, steady. She shifted slightly to see his face. The faint lines of stress under his eyes, known as "bags" among humans, were still visible. John had terrible sleeping habits, a combination of insomnia, nightmare, and their lifestyle. It was one problem that would plague him throughout his life. But for tonight he was sleeping well, his features relaxed. He was happy.

John was happy because of her.

Cameron liked that.

Her interactions with John had improved steadily over the last few weeks. Yet, they didn't have sex. John had chosen not to "go any further". Did he disapprove of her in some way? Was she unfit for his needs? It was possible. Most humans despised the machines. All humans feared them.

It was also possible John was looking beyond a purely physical relationship. After all, he asked her to stay. John was comfortable enough to sleep in her presence, touching her, letting her touch him.

That was significant.

Humans were very confusing. It seemed they rarely took the most direct path to obtain what they desired.

Perhaps he was exercising patience. That was not to be expected from a typical teenage male.

John Connor could not be described as typical.

It was a long and silent ride back to the house.

Someone needed to say something. They needed to talk, about the mission and the lies. She wasn't angry anymore, at least not as angry. Derek had lied to her. He knew the full scope of Davis' mission and he kept it from her.

Hell, the machine had been better informed than she was. They'd brought it up to speed before her.

All three of them had kept her out of the loop.

And Sarah Connor was good at holding a grudge.

They pulled up to the house. Sarah stepped out of the car, slammed the door, and walked away.

Silence was definitely the way to go.

The house was completely blacked out. That was expected. Sarah didn't bother to look at her watch. Even John would be asleep by now. The sun would be up in a couple hours.

She looked over the porch and the front door, mostly out of habit. Nothing was out of place. Again, as expected. They'd gone really low profile since they got to town. Sarah quietly eased the door open. Safe or not, announcing her presence was too stupid to even consider. It was even darker inside the house. Sarah groped around blindly for the keypad. By the time she found it her eyes had adjusted.

With the alarm disarmed and rearmed, Sarah shrugged off her jacket and started upstairs. It was late. She was tired. She'd hammer out the last pieces of the plan later.

For now she'd check on her son, maybe even sleep.

They'd save the world in the morning.

She ran into Cameron at the top of the staircase, shotgun in hand.

"A little slow on the response time are we?"

The sarcasm was lost on the machine.

But where had Cameron been? Sarah hadn't noticed it before but the cyborg would usually be in the room by the time she closed the door, most of the time already pointing a weapon at her.

"I heard your approach. I continued patrolling."

Of course it did. The cyborg must have spent all night walking through the house.

Sarah rolled her eyes, another useless gesture. "Were you now?"

"Yes. I also checked on John. He's sleeping peacefully."

Sarah clenched her jaw.

"Focus on the mission." There was flicker of… something in the machine's eyes. Sarah continued. "We're moving on Anderson."

"We're going to kill him? Now?"

God it sounded almost eager.

"Not right now. Soon."

If everything went well, maybe tonight.

"We'll pick up Anderson when he drives home." Sarah brushed past Cameron. She should have said more, about the ambush site or their timetable. But she didn't want to talk to anyone right now, let alone the machine.

She stopped in front of John's room.

Cameron took three quick strides towards her. "John's sleeping." She repeated, her normally soft tones were even quieter.

"I heard you the first time."

It made no move to leave.

"Don't you have a patrol to finish?"

The machine fixed her with a blank look. Then it turned and padded down the hall. Sarah waited for Cameron to disappear from sight before reaching for the doorknob.

She needed to check on John, to see him with her own eyes. She didn't like the idea of leaving John alone with a terminator. She wasn't blind. Whatever affection that existed between them, completely one-sided of course, was growing. John trusted her. He trusted it. That was one conversation they couldn't put off forever.

But the thought of Cameron checking on him…

She stood there, her hand closed over the knob.

She needed to check on John.

Her hand fell limply at her side.

She should check on John.

Sarah couldn't could face him, not tonight.

Lying to John didn't bother her, as bad as that made her sound. She was used to it. It was a natural part of the life they led. Telling John about Anderson, that they were going to kill him wouldn't accomplish anything. John would disagree. The fact that he sent back a resistance fighter for this mission wouldn't matter. No, John would only see the short term. He wouldn't listen to reason.

Keeping him in the dark was for the best.

Lying to John wasn't the problem.

The problem was her.

And the problem was John.

She knew John's destiny. She knew the burden he'd carry. Every day was a struggle to make sure he'd became the man the world needed.

But that was where her thoughts ended.

Future John was more of a shadow, an abstract, than anything else. She'd never thought about him as a real person. She thought about the future constantly. But in her mind the future meant Judgment Day. There was no day after Judgment Day.

John was her son. Despite what he was supposed to be, what she was trying to make him. It was hard to think of him as anything else. It was harder still to think of him as a leader, giving orders.

It was the kind of puzzle that the human brain wasn't built to handle.

The warmth from where Cameron had laid beside him, just moments ago, was starting to fade.

She'd sneaked off as best she could but he'd still woken up. She didn't make any noise. Maybe the bed dipped a little more than you'd expect from someone her size.

It wasn't her fault.

John always woke up. Even when he was a kid growing up in the jungle, and his mom would check on him. He usually didn't notice her approach. But every time she'd end up fixing his blanket or stroking his hair and then she'd have to leave. That was when he'd wake up. No matter how careful she was John always woke up.

It was something about the sudden lack of warmth, the emptiness left behind.

So he'd pretend to sleep. He would act like he didn't notice.

John rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

So why did he pretend this time?

Judging by the time Cameron had stayed as long as she could, like he asked her to.

She was almost at the door when he opened his eyes. And he couldn't think of anything to say.

Things were getting complicated.

He almost slept with her. He certainly wanted to. And the ease of the admission scared him.

So why didn't he?

Cameron didn't seem to object, quite the opposite. If what he saw in Vick's memories was any indication she was definitely capable.

What was he waiting for?

John didn't expect his first time to be magical. He'd grown up around soldiers and criminals. Some of the places they lived in actually had brothels. And he couldn't ignore the long line of men in his mother's life. They had knowledge she wanted. She had a body they wanted.

No, he didn't expect it to be magical.

He couldn't quite find the words for it. But he needed to know whatever their relationship was, where ever it was going on, was more than her mission.

He thought he heard a muffled voice coming from the hallway.

John closed his eyes, strained his hearing.

"-John-"

Someone was out there.

He couldn't make out enough to follow the conversation, just the odd word here and there.

It had to be his mom. Derek wouldn't show up this late without a damn good reason.

And if whoever was out there didn't have a reason to be there, Cameron would have killed them already.

Someone stepped in front of his door blocking the light that seeped in beneath it. It was definitely his mom coming to check on him. It was an old habit. Just like staring at him while he slept.

John shifted to the center of the bed and laid down. The smell of Cameron's perfume clung to the pillow. He hoped she wouldn't get close enough to notice.

He closed his eyes.

And waited.

.

.

.

The door didn't open.

Finally, his curiosity won out. Opening his eyes, John stared at the door.

The light streamed through the opening at the bottom of the door, unobstructed.

No one was there.

Something was wrong.