So hey!

Here is chapter three … or two if you count that sort of thing.

So this one sort of reminded me of a chapter of Sarah Town … but I think that I'm just giving a light feeling until the angst begins.

Monster Mash

August 15th, 2023

Personal Entry # 45

A home. A brick house on the edge of a cliff face overlooking the ruins of a city is deathly silent where a family once lived. I'm a stranger in a home that I used to know. A home I've not forgotten.

Nothing's changed here, there's still a too-small bed that I used to fall out of when I slept.

I've spent most of my time in Mom's old room. I feel like there's so much I never told her. So much I should have said to her. Maybe she knows now that she's up there watching, but it's still hard to swallow, even thirteen years later.

There is still one room that I can't go inside. Every time I approach the doorway I see her in that white sundress, in her ballet slippers, dancing in front of her mirror. Then my heart clenches, and I slam the door shut.

I burned the damn place to the ground.

"Huh"

Ryan sat on a worktable in a large family garage, reading General John Connor's personal journal, and munching on a large bag of peanut butter M&Ms. They had been left in a mini-fridge of an observation station in an underground tunnel beneath the small, attractive company-town of Charm Acres. Several feet in front of him sat a sleek, upgraded street motorcycle painted gun metal black. On the handle a matching helmet hung with a tinted visor and two blue streaks across the top.

Ryan turned the page and popped another handful of shelled candy in his mouth. At a thud from outside the building, he narrowed his mocha eyes and slipped a small plastic container into his inner jacket pocket.

"Fucking paperboy!"

"Zoë!"

"Oh, come on Mom, I mean really! Is it too hard to expect the little shit to throw the damn newspaper in the front yard?

"Zoë McCarthy … you use that language again and I'm going to wear that ass out!"

"Now who's cussing?"

"… Get the paper"

The screen door opened to a rather nice house, and a straight haired brunette in red short shorts and a white spaghetti strap tank top walked out into the dawn. She gave an annoyed sigh and padded barefoot through the grass to the plastic-covered, thick roll of paper. Picking it up she looked over it to find a boot print smearing the newspaper flat.

A creaking sound complemented a shadow that was inching around Zoë's father's garage toward the entrance. The man was balding, with a buzzard like face. He was in the Desert Canyon Heating and Air uniform that she was getting tired of seeing.

"Mr. Winston?" she gave a puzzled frown. "What are you doing in our yard?" she asked her family's friend. The older man shushed her and pulled a large caliber pistol from behind his pants.

"Baby girl, go back in inside!" The girl looked up at a tree to find a man with long hair and a beard perched on a branch.

"Daddy what are you doing up there?" she asked starting to fear her father's tone and his coworker's gun.

"It's alright Baby … just go back inside with your Mother." He consoled the scared teen. Zoë nodded and turned to leave when the sound of an engine roared to life.

"Son of a bitch" That was all Ed Winston could get out as a black street racing motorcycle plowed through the McCarthy's garage door, sending splinters in dozens of directions. The bike torqued as it swerved, just missing Zoë.

The driver of the bike was clad in a brown leather jacket and blue jeans tucked into mud brown motorcycle boots. In the male driver's effort to avoid hitting the girl, he put himself directly under the branch that George McCarthy was sitting on. Armed with a piano wire, the long haired man jumped off the tree and onto the back of the motorcycle. George grunted in pain at what the landing did to his testicles, which was a mistake, as he alerted the bike's owner to his presence.

Working quickly, George tried to wrap the piano wire around the cyclist's neck. In response the rider tossed his helmet clad head back into the man's face, and with a sharp turn onto the asphalt of the street, he tossed off George who growled in pain as the ground tore clothing and skin. Zoë ran to her father's aid as they both watched the sleek cycle disappear into the early dawn. Running out from the backyard Winston looked red faced and murderously angry.

"Did he get Fisher's package?" George grunted.

"Yeah; and not only that" Ed gritted.

"Damn … what else?" he responded.

The buzzard-like man turned an empty Halloween decorated candy bag over.

"Slick bastard ate all our M&M's!"

A black Dodge Ram moved through the heavy LA traffic on its way down the highway.

"What exactly are we doing again?" Derek asked from the driver's seat.

The beautiful woman in a soft leather waist jacket in the passenger's seat glared at him, brushing some stray locks from her mountain of long, raven curls out of her eyes.

"We're having a family day …" she replied, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Family day?" a teenage girl in tight jeans, tank top and purple jacket frowned from the back seat.

"Yeah, it's where Mom uses the excuse of bonding to keep tabs on us." John answered Cameron with a sigh, pulling out his phone from his hooded jacket pocket and began to surf the internet. Sarah pursed her lips at the explanation and gave an angry scowl at all of the agreeing faces around her.

"Would it kill you to spend time with your family?" she gave an exasperated sigh. Though it was meant for everyone, John couldn't help but feel as if he was the one she was meaning to address.

"You never know …" Derek shot Cameron a look from the rear view mirror. She merely tilted her head at the comment.

"Not today Derek" Sarah sighed, looking at a happy family in the car next to them, with a mother and father and two small children who were laughing at something the mother had said. There was a sad longing on her face, and she touched the window lightly.

Flicking his eyes to Sarah, a pang of guilt rushed through Derek and his face lightened at seeing a tender moment of weakness from a mother who only wanted to feel something normal for once. Derek turned his eyes to the road before speaking.

"So … what's on the agenda today?"

Sarah took her eyes from the happy family and looked back toward the man with a light expression. She wasn't stupid; she knew he had seen her moment of weakness. There was a part of her that wanted to inform the future soldier that she didn't want any of his sympathy. But another part, a female part of her, felt warmth that he was being understanding.

"Somewhere to eat breakfast would be nice." She answered looking back to see that John was sharing his phone with Cameron as the two watched something on its screen.

"Oh my god!"

John looked disgusted and partly horrified. Cameron had a half confused, half thoughtful look on her angelic face.

"What is the point of the two girls and the cup?" she asked. John squinted and shook his head at her.

"What are you looking at?" Sarah asked turning to face them. In a quick action the two teens circled the wagons, bumping shoulders and hiding the phone.

"Just watching something Derek sent John." Cameron answered.

Sarah turned to Derek who was shaking his head in an attempt to coach the teens to lie. Catching hardened green eyes he stayed stoic. She did not like being out of the loop, or secrets. Sarah glared at her family.

"John, give me the phone." She demanded.

John looked horrified and turned to Derek who was once again shaking his head frantically. Sarah snapped hers toward him to which he attempted to appear he was trying to pop his neck.

"John!" she snapped at the young man. He flinched at the harsh tone and looked panicked with indecision. Suddenly, Cameron turned her head to the back window in alarm, and Derek tensed at something in the side view mirror. Catching on Sarah turned to Derek.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Motorcycle weaving toward us … fast"

Immediately Sarah extracted a pistol out of a glove box and pulled the slide back. With a loud vroom a black and brown blur passed them without slowing down. No more than several seconds later a second motorcycle with a rider in all black gave chase, zooming by on their other side. There was a collective sigh of relief from all in the cab of the truck.

"Street Racers …" Derek announced slumping back in his seat.

Sarah's hands trembled with adrenaline as she placed the Glock back into the glove box. Seeing the shaking, Derek grabbed Sarah's left hand. She immediately pulled out, but with an annoyed huff he snatched it back and squeezed lightly. Then like magic the shaking disappeared. With a surprised face she looked up at Derek who had a knowing grin.

"Old nerve trick Kyle taught me."

Sarah smiled fondly and let her hand linger in his.

"It's uh cool now … Cameron" John's voice echoed through the cab causing an immediate withdraw from both parties.

Turning back Sarah found Cameron in John's lap with her body enveloping his in a protective hug. John's arms were around the girl's waist; their faces inches apart. Sarah could tell that there was something about the embrace that was past the protection excuse.

"Cameron!" Two adult voices called harshly.

The cyborg gave one last gaze into nervous green eyes before she slid off John and back into her seat, leaving him clammy and breathless. Both Sarah and Derek shared angry looks before launching the truck into an awkward silence. After several minutes of quiet Sarah turned back to John with a determined face.

"So how 'bout that phone?"

The diner was full of people. There was always a large rush of beach goers for breakfast at the Santa Monica Pier. A beautiful waitress with shiny, blond hair and amazing bone structure weaved thru crowded tables and past a family of four. Only one person eating from the plate in front of him. Derek looked up from his bacon at John and Sarah, who stared at their pancakes with disturbed faces.

"I told you specifically, one not to let the machine see it and two, not to watch it before a meal." He sighed at John before going back to his food.

Cameron downed her second glass of chocolate milk before looking at her charge next to her, then his food. "You should eat …" she said sliding John's food toward him. He sighed longingly at her comment.

"I don't think I can … ever again." John wrinkled his nose.

"I hear that." Sarah commiserated with her son poking at the bare stack of cakes in front of her. Derek rolled his eyes to the sky at them, before going back to his hot meal. At the comment Cameron frowned then took John's hand a moment. The action caused him to go rigid, and with a nervous gulp he turned to look at her.

"For me?" she asked in an innocently sweet voice. There were just too many emotions to fight as he broke a small smile at her. She returned his with toothy one that looked genuine.

"Hey Cameron!" Sarah broke the moment. "Why don't you get us some …" Sarah paused giving a side frown, taking her fork and hooked it to Derek's who was silently advancing towards her untouched breakfast. "Syrup" she finished.

"There is a waitress for that." John protested. Sarah glared at the continued hand holding.

"She isn't eating, might as well make herself useful." She bit back. There was tense silence between the two Connors before Cameron stood.

"It's okay John …" she remarked with a smile before letting go of his hand and walking away.

As he watched her, he couldn't help but feel like he had just been manipulated again. John wasn't stupid; he knew she used her wiles to get him to do what she wanted. John couldn't help but feel angry at the notion of her using his feelings against him, yet; at the same time, he couldn't help but question what separated her from any other teenage girl.

"For God's sake Reese, Judgment Day isn't for another three years … there's time for the final meal." Sarah commented, scooting her plate away from him.

"Hey, if you think that I'm going to let you waste food, than you have another thing coming." He shot back.

John marveled at how the two most serious people he knew could resort to the most immature ways of handling problems, shaking his head at the two who were now clashing forks like swords, unaware how they look to their peers.

"Yep … I'm raising myself."

John turned to find Cameron. His breath was taken away when his eyes found the beautiful girl standing next to a harried career woman. She was searching a large duffle bag while Cameron held a baby boy in her arms. The baby seemed quite taken with the metallic snaps of her motorcycle jacket. Cameron had an innocent look on her face as she held the baby gently. There was a moment were the sun shined on her, giving her an ethereal glow, as she gave a faint smile to the child. Suddenly, like a divine shot in the dark, John felt like he was being shown a scene from his future.

It was in the middle of the night in a secluded patch of woods, the last which hadn't been touched by Skynet's mechanical wrath for nature. The soft, mournful glow from the moon and stars gave sufficient light for the lone young man as he placed the last log upon a funeral pyre.

There wasn't a sound or soul in sight as he gave an emotionally pained look at a handsome, pale man in threadbare and wrinkled military fatigues. His once green eyes where now grayed and dead. His spiked hair was a shade lighter and a brutal facial scar sunk a little deeper into his thinned face.

The young man in his early-twenties cleared his throat, shook his head and walked to another body lying next to a tree. If there was ever was such a thing as a dead angel, then Ryan Connor's leather jacket was covering her like a blanket. He took a knee next to the body.

Unlike his father, who was aged with scars and stress. His mother hadn't changed since the day the lovers had met in New Mexico. Still beautiful and perfect, Ryan let out an emotional shaky sniffle as he ran a hand over her smooth cheek. However he stopped himself and pressed a closed fist to his nose and sighed. After another clearing of his throat he gently pulled off the jacket shroud and slid it on.

Cameron Connor was dressed in the white sun dress that her husband had kept for twenty-two years, covered by a purple leather jacket and worn ballet slippers on her feet. With a strained growl, Ryan lifted her off the ground and with gentle care he carried her like a princess to the pyre where he carefully placed her next to her soul mate. He smoothed the dress where it wrinkled.

After a moment of gazing upon the two bodies laying upon the flat surface of the pyre, Ryan pulled a wedding ring out of his coat pocket. It was a simple gold band with a single diamond on it. Gently picking up Cameron's hand, he slipped on the perfectly fittied piece of jewelry. He held the hand up a moment longer and pressed it to his face, closing his eyes as he savored the contact. Another moment passed before he placed the hand down and intertwined it with John's so that both wedding rings were touching. He sadly showered the two with a white powder from an aluminum can. With the last of his work done, Ryan loomed over the lovers.

"I uh … I'm not sure what to say to you anymore?" he sniffled. "I messed up and … I'm not sure how to make it right?" he sobbed for a moment, taking in all the mistakes he had made in the last year. After a moment and with a strong sniffle he composed himself. "But I will … I'm not sure how … but I'll make this right, I swear." He gritted his teeth to hold back emotion. Then he pulled a sleek, chromed .45 pistol from a holster on his side. It had scars and nicks from twenty years of use on it, but it was still reliable to a fault.

"Sorry dad … I know you wanted to be buried with this thing … but I still need it, so I hope you don't mind if I take it with me?" he showed the former leader of the Resistance the weapon before holstering it. Without another word he stepped down and put some distance between them. With one last hard look at the couple he pulled a flare out of his inner coat pocket.

"I hope you guys are off having that picnic that you always dreamed of going on …" Ryan gave a broken smile and popped the cap of the flare. Then with a little hesitation, he tossed it on to the thermite coated wood on the bottom of the pyre.

Several miles away million,s of people were mourning an empty casket with a large funeral precession and claims of heroism of one of the greatest men in world history. While, alone in the woods, a son stood and watched flames consume his father, a modern Rome,o and his mother, John Connor's Juliet, as the smoke billowed into the sky as if touching the lingering blue moon above.

There was a stray tear in Ryan's left eye as he watched Cameron from his spot at the diner bar counter as she held a squishy faced baby boy. He had cursed when he first saw his future family enter the restaurant, wondering if he was a magnet to them. And, what he was looking at now was something that made him wish that he just would've gone to Denny's.

He watched her return the baby to it's mother, and walk in her trade mark horse like gait, back to the table where the rest of the family was. Ryan held up a plasma burnt, and half broken Terminator chip. He studied it in pensive sadness for several minutes, remembering his mother and her smile. Then he sighed and pocketed the TOK chip. With a swivel he turned back to the counter where he stuck a mouthful of pancakes in his mouth before downing his second glass of chocolate milk.

"Careful … you might get one wicked sugar high." A singsong, southern accent called to him. Looking up he saw a blond waitress in a slightly revealing uniform that he had been flirting with on and off, sashay up to him from behind the counter.

"Oh yeah, well with the way this morning is going I might need it." Ryan responded clearing the tear from his eye before grinning at her.

She bent over the counter and jutted her chest out to him in a flirty manner. "I got an idea about how you can use it to our mutual advantage." She winked. He lifted an eyebrow at the come on.

"Getting a little ahead of ourselves aren't we?" He asked motioning to a fry cook who looked ready to play the xylophone with Ryan's spine. She turned and gave a sly smile at him.

"He's just a … concerned friend." She responded to his query, turning back. Getting closer to her, Ryan observed that the cook was a much bigger man up close.

"You know … I think you forgot to connect the word "boy" to friend." He said in a low voice. She got even closer, their lips almost touching.

"You must be the only man in this town who still cares about that sort of thing." she huffed playfully.

"Call me old fashion." He gave her a pirate grin.

"I wouldn't worry anyway … let's just say he's a longtime admirer." She tried to close the gap between them.

Just then the diner door opened and a pair of men in gray jumpsuits walked in. One had a beard and long hair, and one was balding with a buzzard face.

"Of course now is when they would come."

The waitress's lips caught his cheek as he stared at the men. He reached for the rubber grip of his chrome pistol just as a cute little brunette in a sundress ran by his stool, being pursued by an even younger little boy in a red T-shirt.

"Damn"

He wasn't too thrilled with the idea of engaging the two in hand-to-hand, especially if they had no qualms about opening fire in a restaurant, from his experience with Grays, they seemed quite content with killing children. Then an idea hit him. He turned to the cook, who was past the boiling point at seeing the waitress kissing another man's cheek. Reaching into his pocket he put a fifty in the blond's hand.

She gave him a curious look then chuckled at him with a shake of her head. "Baby … I'm giving it away for free." She motioned to her breasts. Ryan laughed at the comment and grinned.

"That's not for sex … you said you wanted to be an actress right?"

"Yeah …"

"Well the fifty is for acting out a little scene I just wrote."

"How many of those are you going to drink?" Sarah asked while chewing on some pancakes.

Cameron looked at the collection of empty glasses coated with chocolate milk. She got lost in thought a moment.

"I find the taste intriguing …" she looked inside the glass, swishing the last of the milk of her fifth glass.

"I hope that doesn't go to your head … the last thing we need is a machine on a sugar high from hell …" Derek commented cutting a sliver of Sarah's pancakes that he was helping her eat. John snorted at the thought of his protector bouncing off the walls.

"Sugar high?" Cameron questioned them curiously.

There was a collective groan from the family. Derek shook his head, while John gave her an endearing smile. Sarah, however, became entranced by a man whose eyes were searching the tables. He had a gray uniform with a name tag that said Winston. Sarah felt dread settle in her chest. Something she hadn't felt since that night at Tech-Noir, when she had looked into the Terminator's eyes as he raised his gun to kill her. The man's eyes looked cold, and when they fell on her there was a spark in them that made her blood run cold. It was as if he had seen something interesting in her that he wanted. The man froze in place letting his longhaired partner pass him as he seemed taken with Sarah.

"Hey, you alright?"

She turned to Derek who seemed to catch on to her sudden nervous aura. She wanted to answer but she seemed to get lost in his stare. There was a safety in it that she couldn't help but hate. She had to be vigilant, always ready for danger, for John. Safety was a luxury that she couldn't afford and every time she felt it, Sarah couldn't allow herself to bask in it long. Maybe that's why she couldn't stand being around Derek, and at the same time why she couldn't be without him.

"I'm fine …" She gave him a scowl that demanded that he mind his own business.

"YOU'RE SUCH A DOUCHEBAG!"

The sound of a tray contacting with a head sounded through the diner. With amused looks the Connors turned their heads to the scene of their pretty blond waitress slamming a tray into the head of the buzzard faced man's partner over and over with a vengeance while he was laid out on the ground. Winston moved to intercept, grabbing the tray from the woman. The longhaired man stood up covered with orange juice and syrup and in a rage raised an arm to backhand the blond.

"You dirty Bitch!" he yelled.

"OH HELL NA!" A man with the height of 6'6 and 300 pounds, who looked more like a football player than a fry cook, rushed at the two men in a sprint that could surely knock down an elephant. He clothes-lined both men and started barrage of punches on the long haired man.

Through the chaos and commotion of the fight it was only Cameron who noticed a familiar looking raven haired man rush out of the diner with the waitress following. She observed the two kiss outside before he disappeared out of Cameron's site. With a curious frown she turned back to the fight.

"We need to go …" John said with a tug at Cameron wrist. Turning, she found Derek and Sarah rushing toward an exit with John leading Cameron to the door that Sarah was now holding open for them. With Cameron through the door John wrapped an arm around Sarah's waist and ushered her out.

"That was strange." Derek broke the silence in the cab of the truck.

"It wouldn't be Santa Monica without a little drama somewhere." John said with a sigh as he drove.

"Then what would it be if there wasn't?" Cameron asked from the back seat. Her question was ignored.

John looked at Sarah from the rearview mirror. She seemed a little shaken and there was definitely something troubling in her eyes as she leaned into the door, looking out the side window.

"Something wrong?" John asked.

Sarah didn't answer. He turned to Derek with a worried look.

"Hey you alive back there?" Derek called. Sarah tossed an annoyed glare his way.

"Thanks" he responded to John for forcing him to get scorched by Sarah Connor's silent wrath, of him butting into her private time.

When the Ram screeched to a halt at a stop light, a black motorcycle pulled up next to them. The rider braced his motorcycle boots to the ground for balance and looked around.

"Hey isn't that the motorcycle from earlier?" John asked. Everyone turned to look at the brown jacketed individual.

"Yes … he was also the person those men from the diner were after." Cameron added

"How do you know that?" Sarah finally spoke.

"He slipped out the back with the waitress who hit the man. It most likely was a distraction so that he wouldn't be seen." Cameron answered.

Sarah looked at the man seeing something familiar about the jacket he was wearing. The figure observed the area before stopping at the four stares he was receiving. Luckily Ryan's shocked nervous face was shielded by a tinted visor.

From his rearview mirror he saw a utility van with a Desert Canyon logo speeding toward him. With a cocky two finger salute to his suspicious family; he used his foot to turn his motorcycle 180 degrees, and with a rev of his engine, he took off down the opposite side of the road, performing a taunting wheelie as he passed the two men. The van tried to turn on a dime to pursue, but in the process they tipped the clunky vehicle over.

There was an inquisitive side of Sarah that wanted to know what that was about, but on the other hand she knew begrudgingly that not all violence in L.A. was perpetrated by machines, and the less she knew the better. So when the light turned green John continued on course toward downtown.

"You can't be serious?"

That was what Derek sighed as he stood at an entrance to a Halloween warehouse store.

"Look … we need costumes." John said with a poignant stare at the future soldier. John was ready to confront his mother with an argument when he saw genuine amusement in her as she crossed her arms and smiled at the surroundings.

"Why do we need costumes?" the older man groaned.

"Because, it took a lot of effort to deter Kacy from joining us today; so that we would choose some" John answered.

Derek wanted so bad to find an excuse not to go to that party tomorrow, but there was a certain warrioress that would kill him if he made her go solo to this thing.

"Kill me" Derek sighed seeing that there was no way out. In the background Cameron looked like the machine equivalent of a little girl on Christmas morning at the soldiers comment.

"Expression" Sarah eyed the girl warningly. Cameron shifted her jaw in a small hint of disappointment.

"Let's get this over with." John sighed back in irritation at Derek's attitude.

"Meet back in an hour." Sarah commanded to John who was already wandering away. He responded by waving at her from behind in acknowledgment. "And get something for Girlie that's normal!" she called again, this time John stuck his fist in the air as he turned the corner. She shook her head with a smile and looked around at the entrance of the store, seeing funny hats that went to costumes and small decorations.

"Shall we?" Derek bumped her shoulder. She turned to him with a vague smile and the two adults wandered the opposite direction of their wards.

Amongst the crowd a large Latino man with a distinguished mustache and goatee and dressed in a black dress shirt with white sports jacket and pants watched the scruffy looking soldier over the top of his sun glasses, while reaching for a knife.

John and Cameron walked through the narrow corridors of the costume shop looking at the many nylon pieces of clothing in the store. The future leader of the human resistance was stumped on what exactly he was going to attend the party as.

"Maybe a soldier would be a nice touch?" He thought running a hand over a campy western getup.

"What should I choose?" Cameron asked looking lost in a sea of nylon and pictures.

"I wish I could tell you … but I don't think I know myself?" he sighed.

"Why do people wear costumes on Halloween?" she asked another, this time with a troubled frown at the whole situation.

"That's another good question." He sighed giving a humored look at a cross dresser outfit. He turned to his companion to find her doing her best impression of a little girl lost in a department store.

"Well …" John decided to attempt to help her out. "There are four types of costumes you can choose." He started with a scratch of his neck. Cameron lit up at the forthcoming lesson and caught up with him to listen.

"There's uh … Irony." He started showing her the transvestite costume.

"Irony?" she questioned.

"Yeah sometimes people dress up in something that is totally opposite of them for humor." He put the hooker outfit away. The teenage girl pondered it a moment.

"I'm in an organic sheath though I'm a machine inside … is that funny?" Cameron asked with a tilt of her head. John snorted at the comment as they continued between the large racks.

"I don't think Skynet's purpose was to bust someone's gut when it designed you …" then he paused at the statement a moment. "Well at least through laughter." He shrugged and continued.

"What's the second?" she asked.

"Umm …" he looked around for something to inspire him. "Oh …" he picked up a Wonder Woman costume and showed it to her. "Sometimes people chose things that they wish they could be." He handed her the costume and let her chew on his explanation for a moment. Cameron ran a hand over the smooth costume, tracing the sleek fabric.

"Like a Superhero?" she looked up at him.

"Yeah … or whatever it is that interests them." he chuckled at a two person horse costume, thinking about the consequences of suggesting his mom and uncle going with the get up.

"As long as Derek's in the back it should be accurate …" He shook his head with a grin.

"The third?" Cameron joined him with the Wonder Woman costume in hand. John lifted an eyebrow at her choice but said nothing and went forward.

"Well, the third is something that says a statement about you or your personality." He poked a witches mask as they reached a corner wall where there was row upon row of rubber and latex masks, some were funny, some scary, and others just plain gruesome. Cameron seemed intrigued at the prospect; her face reflected a look that said her processor was going a mile a minute.

"So I could go as a robot?" she had a curious innocence to her voice. John smiled fondly at the statement wrinkling his nose at a Freddy Kruger mask.

"You'd be a machine … pretending to be human … who is pretending to be a machine?" he pieced out ending with a confused laugh.

"You would know that I know what they wouldn't …" Cameron explained honestly. There was a pause as John looked like he might go crossed eyed.

"So … number four" he decided to move on before the universe tore in half. "Well … the last is a lot more of an excuse for women than men." John seemed distracted a moment.

"Why's that?" she seemed slightly surprised at the statement. John continued to seem distracted.

Interested at what held her friend's gaze she searched out the sight, yet all she found was some blond girl trying on a Dallas Cowboy's cheerleader costume in a small dressing room. She blinked several times not seeing anything interesting that would constitute an abstract amount of attention. She turned to John to find him still distracted. She finally decided to trace his vision and found that the teenage girl in the skimpy outfit seemed to be the one catching her purpose's attention. She glared at the blond who seemed to be giving Cameron a look that said her milkshake was bringing her boy to the yard and there was nothing she could do about it.

"John …" Cameron called to the entranced young man. Then searching her files she remembered that when Sarah Connor wanted to get people's attention she would shove them, and judging by the nagging almost angry emotion setting her circuits aflame she saw it as a good move.

"John!" she shoved him a little harder then she wanted, sending him into a wall of president masks.

"Wow … What … what were you saying?" He stammered as he blushed deep red, not noticing the violent shove. She thinned her lips at him.

"Was there something intriguing about the cheerleader?" she asked passive-aggressively.

"Umm … uh … yeah" John fumbled a moment looking for the right words. "Yeah there was" he said with more conviction this time. "She is the perfect example of what I was talking about." He explained quickly.

"Really?" Cameron turned back to the girl who was looking at her rear in the mirror with satisfied gratification.

"Yeah … a lot of times college girls and older high school girls use Halloween to show off their bodies … you know to look sexy." He fumbled a little before straightening out.

Cameron looked emotionless before a small smile threatened to break out.

"Thank you for explaining."

She then began walking toward the small curtain rooms.

"Hey where are you going?" John called to her.

"To do some measurements …"

"He's late …"

James Ellison sighed in annoyance as he sat on the hood of his car at an unmanned stone quarry. He tapped an envelope on his leg impatiently, checking his watch for the third time in the last seven minutes.

The sound of an engine announced a new vehicle. Suddenly a black motorcycle jumped a small pile of rock and slid sideways on its wheels to brake. Though a stylish move, the bike kicked dirt and dust all over Ellison making him cough harshly while the dust whitened his black and blue suit. The rider turned off the cycle and put down the stand.

"Awesome!" Ellison huffed sarcastically and brushed himself off angrily.

"You Weaver's flunky?" the rider asked from the closed helmet visor.

"Yeah, I work for Mrs. Weaver." Ellison bit at the comment and jumped off the car. The rider reached inside his leather coat pocket and extracted a small plastic case.

"Inform your boss I'm not her errand boy!" the man tossed Ellison the box unceremoniously.

Catching it, the bald man looked inside the small clear container to find a tiny microprocessor chip embedded in black foam. Satisfied with it, Ellison walked over and held the envelope out to the man. The driver removed his helmet and hung it on the handle before moving to the halfway point. Ellison could swear he had seen him somewhere before, but he couldn't place the face for the life of him. What kept his mind wondering was the man's wavy, almost curled grown out black hair.

The younger man took the envelope and undid the tabs and looked at several laminated pictures quietly.

"Ricardo Guacharo … Security enforcer from Columbia, worked for a mining company in South America that specialized in something called Coltan." He briefed the twenty something motorcycle rider. The raven haired man seemed intrigued at the mention of the metal.

"Been following him for several days …" James fished for the importance of the mission to the younger man.

"Why does your boss think that a picture of some dirt bag and a couple of murdered prostitutes was worth the effort I put into to stealing that chip?" the man seemed more than a little pissed.

"Your boy here seems to be a right set killer my friend …" Ellison said looking a picture of a murdered teenage girl.

At the comment the man seemed to arch the index finger of his free hand under his nose, being cast into thought.

That was when Ellison got an interesting idea. "Do you know who Sarah Connor is?" he asked. The man looked up darkly at him as if Ellison wandered into something he shouldn't have.

"Where did you hear that name?" the stranger's voice matched that of his look.

"Is it possible that Sarah Connor could have given birth to another child? Because the eye color is all wrong for him to be John."

"Never mind …" he shook his head getting the answers he need from the man's reaction alone.

Then it was the motorcyclists turn to get hit with an idea.

"Do you have eyes on him?" he asked purposefully.

"Yeah he's at some Halloween costume place on Sunset …" Ellison looked confused. The man didn't acknowledge the confusion and seemed to be running something in his head.

"Shit!" he called at a realization.

"What?"

"Halloween costumes … party …" he said out loud, and then without a word he shoved the pictures of the murdered underage call girls in his inner pocket of his jacket as if understanding what Weaver planned for him to do with them.

"Hey, is someone in trouble?" Ellison called to the man, but he didn't reply as he pulled on the helmet and turned on the engine and with a torque he peeled out and stormed forward once again kicking dust on James as he jumped the same rock pile and disappeared.

"Oh come on!"

There were plastic props of bloody swords and axes which were followed by dozens of devil's pitchforks. These things seemed to make Derek smile. Though he originally didn't like the idea of the party, after wandering the store for a time, memories of Halloweens with Kyle seemed to flood back to him.

"Kid loved places like this …" he grinned at a knight's shield.

"Who's that?" Sarah asked fingering a devil pitchfork with amusement. Her voice took him out of his nostalgia.

"Oh … Kyle." He answered, picking up the shield. Sarah seemed interested at the comment and strayed back till they were shoulder to shoulder as they wandered.

"What was his favorite costume?" Sarah asked fishing for a story of her love's childhood escapades. Derek let out a chuckle and shook his head.

"He always liked to be the hero … knight or monster hunter." He rubbed his soul patch a minute with fond smile. "And I would try to convince him to be something else like a Vampire or a Zombie, but he would say that there were just too many monsters and not enough heroes to save the damsel." Derek laughed at the memories of a five-year-old knight armed with a plastic sword and shield off to rescue the damsel in distress. His smile however waned in the presence of a slightly emotional Sarah who took the shield from Derek.

"I guess he knew what he wanted to be since he was young …" She commented tracing the small cross on the shield.

"Guess so …" Derek nodded. There was a urge to take Sarah into his arms and hold her to him in thier shared grief. But he knew better, so he settled for cleaning the slate by quietly taking the toy from her and putting it back. Sarah cleared her throat and continued forward, discreetly wiping her eyes. Feeling a protective need to change the subject he pressed on.

"How bout you?" he asked. "What was your favorite Halloween costume growing up?" Derek caught up to her as they left the props for the adult costume sections. The beautiful woman shifted uncomfortably and there was a small pain in her eyes.

"My mother … she didn't let me go out in my Halloween costume." She widened her eyes with a sigh. Derek raised an eyebrow at the comment.

"Was she overly religious?" he chuckled.

She gave a shrug as she turned away from him and pretended to look at a costume of a French maid; which meant she had either lost her mind or was deflecting.

A sting of hurt touched Derek's heart as he had seen that kind of reaction from certain kind of people before. It was usually a reaction of people who came from homes of abuse. Part of Derek didn't want to know what Sarah's mother did to her because he wasn't sure he could understand the pain of it either, as his own parents where the picture perfect example of soul mates. The love of a mechanic and a professional cheerleader were part of the reason he fought so hard against the machines, vengeance for what they took from him and Kyle.

"I'm on roll with the conversations today?"

Derek squeezed Sarah's arm, bracing for a swing at the small affection he showed her. But instead she placed her hand over his and rubbed it gratefully. He sighed in relief, and moved to another rack when she didn't come after him. They stood in silence as they shopped through what was available.

"So do you want to do a themed thing together or are we going solo?" Derek asked with a shit eating grin lifting two costumes of male and female plugs. Sarah gave a scowl at his choice, but couldn't hide the smile.

"If we're doing theme it's sure as hell not going to be that." She chastised to which he chuckled cheekily and put them back. Sarah was starting to get frustrated at the amount of completely inappropriate costumes.

"I think the word of the day is sexy." She observed out loud to Derek who had his back to her.

"Oh yeah" He said evenly lifting an eyebrow at a deli ninja costume.

"There is Sexy Witch, Sexy Nurse, Sexy Teacher, Sexy Angel, and Sexy Devil. Oh and my personal favorite Sexy Nun" Sarah listed off with an annoyed sigh.

"That's quite a list." Derek cleared his throat, trying to pretend that he didn't just imagine her in every one of those costumes.

"I think that the word classy Halloween only fits to the small child range." She snorted at the deli ninja over his shoulder.

"You could always be Belle from Beauty and the Beast." Derek offered her a gold gown. She gave him the best equivalent of "Bitch please" look.

"Does it look like I have Stockholm syndrome?" she asked with a sneer, taking it from him and putting it back. Something jutting out of an isolated row caught Derek's eye.

"I think I found something for you."

"Cameron … I'm back." John called impatiently as he tapped his foot at the black curtain in front of him.

"Did you find what I require?" she asked from behind the curtain.

"Yeah, but I think there's trouble …" John said with a paranoid voice, tossing over a white cowboy hat, and then looking behind him. At the comment Cameron poked her head out of the curtain and pulled John inside the small dressing cubical. Just as he disappeared, Derek and Sarah appeared.

"I don't know, Reese?" Sarah sounded nervous looking at the costume in her hand.

"Hey you wanted classy right, plus I think this walks the line between that and the word of the day." He smiled at her. She gave him a suspicious glare, but relented, removing her leather jacket revealing a soft cotton long sleeve. She handed Derek the jacket and disappeared behind a changing curtain. Derek grinned to himself at the costume he had chosen for her to wear.

He was unaware of a large looming figure behind him, that was about to strike his blind side. Then like a flash, a stealthy shadow in a brown leather coat appeared behind the large Latino and smashed his cybernetic left fist into the man's back. Before the assassin had let out a groan, the Tech-Com officer put him in a backwards choke hold and disappeared before the other soldier turned quickly to find nothing behind him.

"Cameron, I think I'm safe from a shifty eyed eight year old in an astronaut suit" John's voice protested from the inside of a changing booth.

This recaptured the junior officer's attention and he followed the voices to the first booth and swished open the curtain to find John alone in the booth pressed into Cameron in a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader's costume, complete with a cowboy hat. There was a deer and the headlights look from all three. Derek breathed to say something but stopped himself, and then he tried again but still came out empty.

"No" was all he said before closing the curtain.

"Derek" John came out after him.

"I'm good." He responded jadedly.

"It wasn't what it looked like." John chased after his uncle.

"What looked like?" Derek shook his head taking his former spot.

"What you just saw." John answered.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"What do you mean …?"

"What, I mean is that it never happened …" the soldier stated hoping John could take a hint. There was a pause between nephew and uncle, before John spoke.

"Right … never happened." John agreed with a clear of his throat. Intense silence stood like a wall between the two before the curtain in front of them opened.

Sarah walked out in an ancient Grecian queen's dress. The strapless costume fit her figure like it was tailored exclusively for her. The back was braced by small leather straps. Sarah seemed to have a pure glow to her as if she was fitting in to something truly meant for her.

"What do you think?" Sarah asked with a tiny bit of nervousness.

"Mom …" John seemed shocked "you're absolutely … gorgeous." he seemed to be flabbergasted at the sudden beauty. Sarah smiled humbly and turned to the man who chose it for her. This time Derek Reese was left without words for a good reason.

The double door exit to the warehouse costume shop flew open and a large Latino man flew out of the building and into a back alley, landing back first into a dumpster. After several moments Ryan followed cautiously keeping his distance from the larger man.

"You got lucky, Muchacho … it won't happen again." The man got to his feet with the dumpster help.

"Whatever boosts that ego" Ryan responded standing opposite the Latino male in the alley.

The man rubbed the back of his head and looked over his younger opponents clothing.

"What is this … Diet Connor?" the Gray assassin mocked his Tech-Com advisory's Father's dress style that the man had copied his entire life.

"Not exactly …" Ryan replied smugly.

The Assassin set his jaw and drew a secondary knife and pointed it at him. Ryan responded by getting into a martial arts stance.

With a growl the man charged forward swinging his knife in a horizontal slash at the officer. Ryan ducked under the swing moving behind him in a smooth motion. The attacked countered by taking a backhanded slash at the man, but in another water like glide Ryan ducked the swing, then sent a upper cut punch, jerking Ricardo's head up violently. With his chest open, Ryan sent a quick one-two combination into the larger man's cavity, when the man keeled; the martial artist hit the killer in the face with a double round house kick. The action sent the Latino into an abandoned book shelf next to the dumpster.

Ricardo tried to stand; only to fall back again, finding his sharpened knife to be stuck in the wooden surface of the shelf. He grunted as he tried to pull out but it seemed to be deeply embedded. Feeling like he was wasting time he got to his feet and gave a hateful glare at his enemy who stood in the building's shadow.

"This isn't your time or city …!" the larger man accused Ryan like a small child who was frustrated.

"Just moved" Ryan replied darkly.

Ricardo charged forward at the rival time-traveling soldier. Ryan kept himself to the man's inside keeping a distance of several feet as the Gray took two swings at him to which Ryan employed elbow blocks, then the officer countered by throwing a trained kick to the traitor's chest sending the man backward. With a vicious snap, Ryan snatched the man's favored punching arm and Judo flipped him to the ground slamming the air out of Ricardo. For which Ryan followed up by throwing him into a brick wall. The larger man slumped in half consciousness.

The Connor family exited the costume store in a small tizzy after Sarah almost went into a meltdown at Cameron's preferred cheerleader costume. She had forced her to choose her second choice, the Wonder Woman suit that came with a skirt and starry cape. Sarah however had not allowed the leotard/one piece swimsuit one Cameron had come back with.

Walking back to the Dodge, they encountered a large crowd by the store's back alley. The four watched as three police men escorted a large, naked Latino man with the word "Rapist" written on his forehead to a police car, while a fourth officer went over several laminated photos of dead prostitutes.

Derek frowned and turned around to find a familiar black motorcycle and helmeted rider sitting close the road. The man gave him a soldier-like salute and took off before anyone else could see him.

On a roof top overlooking the commotion, an opera-masked monster of a man holding a metal tube watched a black motorcycle race away from a crowd bellow. A river of dark liquid ran from under his mask as he tightened his grip on the pipe. He dug into the pocket of his fatigue pants and pulled out a phone. Flipping his phone open, he punched several buttons and paused a moment until someone on the other line picked up.

"It's Connor …" he said in restraint rage. "Step up the timetable …" he sucked in some air. There was a pause.

"That's right … set lose the Clown on Connor's Witch Mother."

He closed the phone and looked down at a purple-clad, angelic beauty lagging behind the rest of her family searching for threats.

"Your death will be his!"

The sound of a pipe being snapped rang out over the roof top.

Author's Notes

So I hope that no one wants to run me out of the fandom for suggesting that Sarah was Sexually abused by her mother … I just thought it would be a interesting reason for Sarah to want to be a better mom to John and why she is a inherently closed off person and also why she doesn't like dresses. But it's not a big plot line just something that is mentioned in passing at several points in the story. If you read 1983 then it's pretty much the same Sarah back story.

I usually don't ask for reviews, but I wouldn't mind to hear your thoughts on the story because they do help with inspiration and they tell me what I need to expanded on and tone down on so I don't leave you guys in the dust.

And finally the flashbacks to the ending of purpose and the Ryan/Samson fight will be coming after the next chapter when I catch everyone up on the overall plot of the two part FF Series.