. . .But What We Make

by Bethe

~*~

To some, my decision to send myself to where the sun shines could be viewed as stupid. There was no way back. Once in the past, it would be impossible to return to the future. But therein lay the appeal. I would be stuck in a world I never knew, yet had always wanted to experience. I could finally live the life that should have been mine.

~*~

Slowly, the woman's eyes blinked, then opened. The dark green orbs moved left to right as if scanning for some intangible threat. She jumped upon seeing a strange man sitting in front of her, seemingly asleep. Then she took in the room more closely, paying attention to every minute detail. She needed to know which ways were best to escape, if necessary.

"I'm not going to hurt you," came a deep but pleasant voice. She turned her eyes back to the man who was previously lost in a slumberly bliss.

"Who are you?" she asked in a calm and crisp voice, slightly monotonous.

The strange man chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his thick black hair. "Jarod Crane, LAPD. You showed up on my doorstep last night in pretty bad shape." He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Now, my question is who are you?"

She bit her lip and furrowed her brow. After a few moments she whispered, "My name is Reese. That's all I know." She covered her mouth with a hand and looked up at the ceiling. "I can't remember anything," she gasped.

Before she could lose herself to hysterics, Jarod reached out and grabbed one of her hands and covered it with both of his. He held it firmly while whispering, "Hey." He gently tugged on her hand to capture her attention. "It's okay that you can't remember. In fact, it's perfectly normal to be having amnesiac tendencies after a traumatic experience such as yours. It'll all come back in time. Trust me."

Trust me. . . The words echoed in Reese's mind. If only he knew that she was playing him. Could she ever trust one person fully? Fully enough to tell them the entire truth?

~*~

To be honest, Jarod Crane was purely a mistake, an unplanned variable. I'd never intended to meet him, especially under these circumstances. How was I to know who's door I was knocking on? And I certainly didn't know he'd play hero and try to save my sorry ass. To tell the truth, I didn't deserve to be saved in the first place. But he thought I did. And I guess that's all that matters.

~*~

Kate bit her lip and let the back of her head rest against the metal wall. She whispered, "What are we going to do, John?" The only sound that could be heard was the inconstant rhythm of drops of water hitting the floor.

John let out a breath and dropped his head. "I don't know, Kate."

"Why did she do it?"

"Because," he spat out quietly, "she's too damned much like me." John looked his wife in the eyes. "She never accepted her fate, just like I never wanted to accept mine. And now she's going to try and change it, just like I did."

A soldier entered the room and saluted curtly before standing at attention. Both John and Kate stood straight and waited expectantly. The messenger looked down before saying, "We've found one record, sir."

After discovering that Reese had sent herself back in time, John ordered his best techs to hack into Skynet's mainframe for anything on a female named Reese Connor.

"A blood-DNA match showed up in the records of a hospital just outside of Los Angeles. It's Reese, sir. She was treated for multiple lacerations to the left side of her body on December 19, 1999 and was released the next day. That's it, sir."

John nodded and said, "Thank you, Mason. You may take your leave." After the soldier departed, John ran his hand through his hair. But before he could relax, Mason re-entered the room, this time with an urgency.

"Sir, we've found one more record! A newspaper article from March 2000 says that a woman bearing the name Reese Connor was brutally gunned down during an attempted robbery. Suspect was never found."

John met Mason's eyes, shaking his head. "I don't buy the robbery. Too convenient." Then he paused all movement. "She was targeted for termination."

"Why?" Kate asked, speaking for the first time in minutes. John looked at her.

"I don't know. But she must have done something important for the Machines to take notice. Someone needs to go back, to protect her." He turned his eyes to the soldier in front of them. "Mason, assemble the team leaders. This takes precedent. We need to have a pow-wow." After Mason had left, he whispered to himself, "The fate of the Resistance could very well lie in my daughter's hands. She's just stepped back into the fate she's been running from."

~*~

You have to hand it to Jarod. He sure knew how to deal with a basket case. There are times when I feel sorry for the guy. An amnesiac trauma victim suddenly dropped in his lap? Then again, if he only knew what he was getting into. . .

~*~

"Make yourself at home. The fridge is always stocked. Don't be afraid to speak up if you need anything." Jarod paused and scratched his cheek. "Is there anything I've left out?"

"No," Reese answered quietly, "I think that's about it." She attempted a brave smile, but it faltered. Before Jarod could say anything more, she went into the room that had been designated to her and shut the door.

She momentarily leaned against the heavy wood, closing her eyes, before moving to the window. This world wasn't what she expected. It was more. She hadn't even been in it for a full 24 hours, and she loved it. There was grass, and it was such a vibrant green that it made her eyes hurt. She could see the sun, and the blue hue of the sky. Life was all around her. Here, there was no war, no suffering. And no Machines.

She walked over to the bed and pressed on it with tentative fingers. It was soft; softer than she'd ever imagined a bed would be. She bit her lip in indecision. Then she faced the wall, lifted her arms, and let herself fall backward. The result was delightful. She flopped and bounced on the bed, giggling all the while. She even got to her feet and began jumping, performing an action only heard of in stories in her time.

She heard a knock on the door while in mid-jump. Instead of landing on her feet, she moved her legs directly in front of her and landed on her bottom. "Yes?" she called out, still bouncing slightly.

Jarod peeked his head in and asked, "Are you alright in here?"

Reese grinned sheepishly, bringing a smile to his face. She replied, "Yes. I'm fine."

"Good," he said, opening the door wider, "because I have a question. Are you up to shopping?"

~*~

I don't regret sending myself back. I never have. It was the best decision in my life, I believe. There are so many experiences that I was cheated out of. And I was finally getting to go through them. I felt like a kid again. It felt wonderful. I felt alive for the first time.

~*~

"We have to do something to save Reese's life. It's imperative that we do so," John addressed the committee he'd assembled. "It's my belief that she was targeted for termination. I don't know what she did to call attention to herself, but it had to be something big. Something important to the cause of the Resistance."

"And what do you propose we do?" asked one member, a robust man in his prime. "We can't send you back. We can't spare you."

"What about the prototype?" another member spoke up.

John sighed and rubbed his face. "But it is only a prototype. We can't predict what it will or won't do. It could change missions and kill her, for all we know," he said quietly.

"I think it's ready," Kate said, causing silence to fall over the room. She looked at each of the members before continuing. "I've been working hard on it, and I believe that it's ready."

"Kate," John interjected.

"Don't 'Kate' me!" she shouted. She took a few deep breaths. "This is our daughter, John! And now, it seems she's the key to all of this!" She brushed her hair out of her face. "It's our only hope."

A silent stand-off occurred between the two of them for about a minute. Then, John sighed defeatedly, "Send it." He sat down in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "I hope to God this works."

~*~

Shopping? I'd never been shopping in my entire life. All of my clothes were either hand-me-downs or handmade. I didn't really know what to expect. I was scared, but there was an excitement to it as well. I was ready to meet life head-on.

~*~

Reese looked slightly overwhelmed with the heaps of clothing folded in her arms. She turned to Jarod with a silent cry for help. He only chuckled, which caused her to become a bit irritated. He grabbed two more shirts off a nearby rack and said, "There's a dressing room. Now you go and try all this stuff on." She shot him a look that said she wasn't impressed. "What?" he asked. "This is supposed to be fun for girls."

"Well," she muttered, "I'm not your average girl." Despite her inner argument, she headed for the dressing room and found an empty stall. Once inside, and alone, she took a step back and looked at all the clothing she'd amassed. These outfits were nothing like the garb she wore in her time. They weren't very practical. Or durable. They were downright flimsy compared to the clothing she and her mother used to make. Sighing, she randomly picked out something and began to shed the clothes borrowed from Jarod's sister.

About a half hour later, she emerged from the stall, looking a little frazzled. Jarod, who was sitting just outside the women's dressing area, asked, "So, how did it go?"

Even though she looked about ready to fall flat on her face, she genuinely smiled. "I liked all of them," she murmured. "But they're all way too expensive."

"If you like all of them, then all of them you shall have," he replied in an overly gallant voice. At the immediate shaking of her head, he brought his hands up. "Listen to me, Reese. You showed up at my doorstep without anything on you. You need a wardrobe, not just two or three outfits. Let me do this for you," he pleaded. "It will help my conscience out a whole lot more."

She raised an eyebrow. "Your conscience? Why?"

"I'm a cop," he started, "I'm supposed to serve and protect. Was I protecting you last night?" He left it at that. He looked so down that Reese inexplicably wanted to ease his guilt. She wanted to tell him that there was no way that he could have protected her from what happened, because she brought it on herself. But she couldn't do that.

Instead, she swallowed her pride and let him take the pile of clothes from her. A thought crossed her mind, and her cheeks burned about bringing it up. But she had to. She cleared her throat and stammered, "Jarod. . .I-I'm going to need. . .other things."

She should have known. Jarod, like all men, was extremely dense. Very innocently, he asked, "What do you need? Ask, and ye shall receive."

"Um. . ." she replied, her voice beginning to trail off, "well. . .you know, other things." She cleared her throat again. "Feminine things."

"Oh," he answered casually. Then Reese could see what she had just said register in his brain on his face as he repeated, "Oh." He cleared his throat as well and quickly said, "Here's a fifty." He handed her the bill, then said in a voice deeper and stronger than normal, "I think I'll go to the sporting goods store. See what kind of guns they have." He paid for her clothes and escaped.

Reese stifled a giggle as she gathered her bags and headed for the intimate apparel section of the store.

~*~

My father is a very smart man; that much is obvious. If he weren't, the human race wouldn't have stood a chance. So, I know he did what he did for a reason. And, I guess, it was important for me to know the truth. But sometimes, I wish I'd never known.

~*~

This sort of phenomenon occurring twice within the space of a week was, well, odd. The air became extremely dense, almost expectant. The wind began to blow, just like before. Cacti, the sentinels of the desert, began to bend with the force. Multiple blinding tongues of electricity lashed out and a sphere expanded on the ground. Just like before, the sphere burst, and yet another desert shrubbery became a casualty to the resulting blast of flame.

In its wake kneeled a massive, naked man. He slowly and smoothly stood up, surveying the surrounding landscape with eyes of a shark. He turned on his heel and began to walk, the sand-turned-glass crunching underneath his feet. He didn't even flinch.

He approached a seedy bar in the middle of nowhere. Without breaking his purposeful, powerful stride, he pushed the door open and entered. He immediately began to scan the patrons of the bar for possible clothing matches.

The song that had been blaring on the jukebox ended, but nothing came on to replace it. Similarly, the bar had become silent as all inside took in the nude stranger. Some women fanned themselves. A waitress, not paying attention, ran right into him and spilled whatever she was carrying. The man slowly looked down at what was blocking his path. The waitress, wide-eyed, mumbled a quick apology and moved out of the way.

"What the hell do you want, you freak?" asked a man who didn't seem to know he was getting too old to hang with the partying crowd. The naked man scanned him from head to toe. A perfect match.

"I will require your clothes," he said in a monotone. This seemed to be very funny to the older man. He laughed, but slowly became serious when the Colossus before him inched closer. "Now."

Now looking very bad-ass in black leather, he walked out of the bar and headed directly to a small foreign convertible. Having no need to break a window, he simply opened the door. He opened the visor, but no keys slid out. He moved his arms into the correct position for breaking open the steering column, but noticed that the keys were still in the ignition. He cocked his head, then turned the key. He didn't seem to let off of the gas pedal as he peeled out of the parking lot and headed for LA.

~*~

To Be Continued. . .