There was something relaxing about the desert rain; it was refreshing in an intense sort way, flash floods moving torrents of water across the once dry and dusty landscape. Storm clouds covered most of the sky, drenching the world, even as the sun broke through the edges, rays of light extending across the rain-soaked world. Lightning crashed, intense blue light flashing for a moment before vanishing, leaving behind the echoing thunder to travel across the plains, filling the world with that faint scent of ozone. This was nature in her fury, in her majesty, and John wanted nothing more but to preserve it from the cruel fate that awaited beyond the ages.

Cameron was beside him, unmoving, her gaze following his eyes across the rain-soaked plains, across the torrents of water cutting through the dirt, even across the years. This was more like the John she remembered, the stoic fighter who was always staring off beyond the next horizon, always seeking the answers that were so far beyond all others. When others thought only of survival, of that desperate battle to live, it was John who asked the question "why?" Slipping around her waist, his arm wrapped around her form gently, pulling her closer, oblivious to the wind and the rain. That too was familiar and she folded into him, laying her head on his shoulder, watching the storm clouds, wondering what lay ahead.

Somewhere out there Derek and Sarah were off on their reconnaissance mission, hoping to find evidence of Sarkissian's presence in that tiny desert city south of the great weapons facility. Left behind once again, Cameron had fully expected John to mope about angrily, expending that teenage frustration in a typical human adolescent fashion. Yet he had surprised her, taking full advantage of this old, rotting ghost town, enjoying his time alone with her. To him every moment before the bombs fell, every moment before Judgment day, was a gift. She couldn't help but admire that in him. Other humans lived tiny lives, going about meaningless tasks without a hint of feeling,never taking their eyes away from the moment. John was alive,he felt, he lived and his eyes were always on that distant future, enjoying everything the other humans took for granted.

Winds shifted and the great darkened storm clouds began their long trek across the wastelands, leaving behind that lingering scent of freshness, of the world renewed. His hand brushed through her hair ever so gently, a gesture that brought pleasant feelings to her consciousness. She didn't understand why such things pleased her, why they sped up her thought-processes until they raced by in near-perfect harmony. Perhaps there was no need to ask why, it simply was. She felt whole, fulfilled, as if she had a greater purpose, a more important mission, than simple protection. Understanding that she need not justify her own happiness with mission parameters, that she need not consider everything in the context of her programmed functions, felt like the release of a great burden. Cameron was free, and her mind responded by desiring more, hungering for it. She turned to him, and leaned into him without hesitation, kissing him with more feeling, this time letting her lips linger on his before breaking the kiss.

He seemed about to say something, but she did not need to hear the words, she knew what he was thinking, what he wanted to ask her. That too was rather anomalous, how is it that she could anticipate his responses with such accuracy? There was some kind of connection, though it was not of the type one machine experienced with another, it was not mere wires or airwaves transferring data. This connection was something different, something new. She filed the bizarre question away for later processing and smiled at him, holding a finger to his lips.

"It's okay John. I know what you want to ask me."

"You do? What am I going to ask then?" He teased, crossing his arms in mock indignance.

"You want to be certain I am not simply simulating... this... that I might fulfill mission parameters more efficiently."

"Well.. I was going to ask if you were faking it for my benefit, but yeah..." John laughed at her speech and mannerisms, stilted and machine-like one moment, and so very feeling the next. "So, what's the answer?"

"I'm different." Cameron answered, as if that phrase explained everything.

"I know. I guess it's kind of crazy for me to worry over it."

"You would have to worry if I were human as well. You cannot be certain another person isn't 'faking it for your benefit,' correct?" She inquired, her head tilting slightly.

"Yeah, that's the way of it. So we worry." John laughed. "Not very logical, I know."

"It is impressive that humans actually manage to procreate." Cameron's voice was perfect robotic monotone, but the hint of unintentional smile gave away the joke.

"Yeah, it really is when you think about it." John laughed for a moment, the continued. "We should head back, to make sure we get back to the car before mom and Derek do."

"She would worry about you."

"Yeah. It makes me wonder, sometimes, how I'm going to be some great leader if she's always fretting over me like that." John answered.

"I understand. Our missions are the same." She replied softly, reaching for his hand as she faced him, her face serious and yet happy at the same time. It was an strange emotion John had never seen on a human before, but he found he understood it anyway. "I am not 'faking it.'" Her words carried a force behind them, and John couldn't help but take her at her word.

John seemed about to ask more, but thought better of it, making 'conversation' instead. It was a few miles walk back to the car, and a hint of a smile graced his face the entire way back. Her hand remained in his.

---------------------

Darkness was creeping up on the world again as John sat in the car, his face a mask of worry.

"They should have been back hours ago. Something must have happened." His vocal patterns had shifted, and Cameron recognized that he was growing impatient. Soon he would attempt to locate them, and that bordered on a part of her mission's imperative that she protect him from harm. Yet the opposition to the idea was far stronger than it should have been, even considering the mission protocols. Why was that? The answer came logically, smoothly from the depths of her mind. She didn't want to lose him, not merely to preserve the mission, but that she might stay with him.

"I had a feeling mom was right. She has a way of figuring these things out, just like her hunch with Andy Goode."

"I don't understand these 'hunches,' they do not make sense, though I cannot deny the positive outcomes." She replied, calculating that Sarah came to far more correct conclusions than could be worked out by processing the data available to her.

"You say that sometimes you feel as if you should do things. Like 'making conversation' or even... 'kissing.'" His face flushed for a moment as he continued. "Hunches are kind of the same thing, except you just feel something is correct, without having all of the answers."

"I don't think I could do that. Making conversation engages my CPU and memory systems, and helps me to better understand people, so it serves an important function. And kissing is very pleasant, I like doing that with you." John nearly choked with embarrassment as she continued, smiling slightly. "But coming to conclusions can only work if the data supports the outcome."

"Why is kissing pleasant." John asked, still hoping to help her understand. "What data supports that?"

"I like it. Is a further reason required?" She asked rhetorically, as if that settled the issue.

John smiled for a moment, almost forgetting his worry, then frowned slightly as he realized that had probably been her intention all along. She may have feelings, but there was definitely machine in there too. The duality didn't bother him over much, but sometimes it was very strange to try and understand. As if figuring out that the jig was up, she turned away.

"You're devious sometimes. You were trying to distract me." John added.

"Yes. I was trying to distract you. If they were captured by Sarkissian or the military, securing their release would be exceptionally dangerous." She replied darkly.

"I know. Far worse awaits me in the future though. We have to find out what happened."

"I..." Cameron began, wrestling with her need for him, wrestling with the mission protocols, trying to determine an appropriate response. "...will accompany you." She finally forced out with some difficulty. Why had she said that? She could have restrained him, preserving him from harm, keeping him with her. But it would have been against his will, and she could not force him to do anything. She cared too much to treat him in such a manner.

"Thanks, Cam." He replied, looking into her eyes with an expression of gratitude, as if he had known her mind all along. She wondered just who was more devious in that moment, the machine or the man.