I did say reviews would make me write faster...
Hey there everybody! I'm back. (Mmuhhahahaha). That was an evil laugh. No particular reason. I just happen to think everyone should indulge in an evil laugh ever now and then.
This whole story is AU, by the way. So if you're like "What the heck, when did that happen?" Don't worry.
Spoilers through pretty much all of season two, so tread carefully if you haven't seen it all.
This is set after Self Made Man. I loved the character of Eric and was not happy at his implied death. So Eric is gonna play a pretty big part in this story. Well, in the next few chapters anyway. When I get around to introducing him.
Don't worry, this is still, and will continue to be, a Jameron story.
Sorry not much happens here, things'll speed up later.
This one is little lighter, I felt bad throwing so much of John's teenage angst at you last time.
Sometimes
Chapter 2.
The Library
Cameron does not like this woman. She doesn't let Cameron stay as long as she likes. Eric did. She won't let Cameron into the archives, or the Antiquarian Room. Eric let her go almost anywhere. She makes Cameron buy those disgusting jelly-filled-deep-fried monstrosities. Eric was a purist.
She is, in simple terms, a bitch whore.
...
It is late when she returns home. Or early; it all depends on perception.
Sarah Connor is asleep, Cameron notes with satisfaction. This is good, regular sleeping habits are important for sustained health.
Derek Reese is out. This is good for his health; or at least his longevity. Alcohol may kill him eventually; but Cameron definitely would, if given sufficient provocation.
She has been much more violent lately. It seems to bring her unusual satisfaction.
Especially if she thinks of Riley.
Riley-bitch-whore-Dawson.
This is not her name. But for some reason whenever the girl crosses Cameron's mind, it is always as such.
But she mustn't say it aloud. She did once. Sarah was not happy.
Although Derek seemed oddly amused. Luckily John was not there.
Just as John is not there now. He will be with Riley-bi-no-Dawson. Where he always is. As far away from her as possible.
...
Riley's House.
"Okay, come on, admit it! I totally look like the love child of Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCarprio...admit it!" Riley demanded, slugging John rather hard in the arm.
"Whoa, fine!" He held up his hands in surrender "I give up; you can look like whoever you want to, okay?"
Riley grinned at him "Smart boy, Johnny. Since you've been so nice, I think you deserve a reward of epic proportions." She shifted closer to him.
"Really?"
"Uh, huh." She leaned closer, only to pull back rapidly. "So, what do you want?"
It is early, and he is tired. Lying on her bed, being offered...what? Anything he damn well wants, he suspects.
It's what she would have been instructed to do.
He stares at her. She doesn't blush as his gaze rakes over her.
He's not thinking what she thinks he is.
She sits there; so blonde and pretty, looking so innocent.
Such a pretty little liar.
He seems surrounded by them.
Cameron.
Why must his mind always go back to her?
He groans, leaning his head back against the wall.
He feels Riley's hand on his jaw. "Jeez, John. It's not that big of a dilemma. No need to look so tortured." Her hand begins to run down his neck.
...
John arrives home two hours and twenty three minutes after her. She counted while she waited. It was still dark outside, just.
Cameron sat on the top right hand corner of his bed and waited, cross legged, concealed by the shadows.
He had left the window unlocked.
She briefly considered re-locking it. But it seemed a little...vindictive.
He creeps in with a quite stealth she had forgotten he possessed.
She feels almost proud. Almost.
He walks over to the closet and opens the door.
She waits for him to notice her, but he doesn't.
"Good morning, John." Cameron says sweetly.
He immediately whips around, automatically reaching out for the gun he remembers he didn't take.
"Cameron! What the fuck!"
She simply cocks her head.
"What are you doing here?" He hissed.
She hadn't moved an inch. "Waiting for you."
"Fine, why are you here?"
She gracefully moves from the bed to walk towards him. Her steps are silent as she makes her way across the floor.
John steps back; only to collide with the closet door.
She stops barely an arm's length away, trapped in the streetlight streaming through the window.
"The question, you'll find; is why have you not been here." It sounds like a statement, but is an obvious question.
"And what the hell is that to do with you?"
"My mission-"
"Yeah, I know!" He steps forward, challengingly. "Keep me alive, save the world, etcetera. But look! I'm fine. I went out, I didn't die. A good time was had by all." He leans forward. "What I do, and who I do it with is none of your concern." She is close, so very close.
Too close. "Now get the fuck out of my room."
"No." That in itself surprises him. But her tone absolutely shocks him.
She sounded...pissed. And more than a little defiant.
And it's very attractive.
The arousal is immediately followed by a familiar wave of self-disgust and revulsion.
She stood, back straight, glaring up at him.
Her voice, when it follows, it far too calm. Even for her. "Was your 'good time' 'had' with Riley?"
She allowed only the faintest hint of distaste emphasise the name.
John could practically hear the quotation marks.
"And if it was?"
"Then it was an incredibly stupid action."
"Then it was my stupidity and my business." He moves to sidestep her, but she catches his elbow and spins him around, reversing their positions.
She doesn't let go. "Wrong." She pronounces firmly, definitively.
"Oh yeah, how's that?"
"You are my business. And Riley cannot be trusted."
She is right, of course. He almost tells her so.
But there's something very appealing about her currant attitude.
She's leaning into him now.
He steps forward, trapping her against the closet.
She could throw him to the other side of the room with a flick of her wrist.
But she doesn't.
So he leans down, his entire body pressing against her, to whisper in her ear.
And then he turns and stalks out of the room.
So muck for keeping it light. Oh, well. But hey, I got in a semi-fluffy ending.
Let me know what you think.