author's notes: Thanks for everyone who's been following this story so far. I'm glad you're all enjoying it.
Emote Control - Cameron can pretend to sleep, yes. That's what John was telling her she had to do.
Augustus Paladin Maximus - Alright, there's no cow-killing, but, without giving too much away, there is frog-killing. :)
Lady Kryptonite - If you liked everything Cam's done to Riley so far, you'll love the next few chapters. The shower is nothing in comparison. There's a storm coming. :)
Go10 - You're right, this will mostly stay a comedy. Without revealing too much, there's really only one chapter of action.
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Chapter Six:
Hamlet
When John got up for breakfast, he found Cameron downstairs already eating a bowl of cereal. She looked up at him, seeming disappointed.
"There's no pancakes," she said.
John snorted. "Good," he muttered. The last thing he wanted for breakfast was more pancakes.
Ms. Darbus walked in, giddy and cheerful as usual. John took a seat next to Cameron, rolling his eyes.
"Nobody should be that happy in the morning," he muttered.
"She got a good night's sleep," Cameron stated. "She has a high level of energy."
John rolled his eyes again. "You don't need to sound so…technical when we're just making conversation."
"Oh," Cameron said. She tried again. "I agree. She's too happy."
John chuckled lightly. "That's better."
"Today, we are going on a warehouse tour," Ms. Darbus explained. John spotted Riley coming in late, probably having to borrow a hairbrush again this morning. He still couldn't believe that Cameron had flushed it down the toilet. Not that he didn't find it slightly amusing after a while.
"What's a warehouse tour?" Jason asked between mouthfuls of toast.
"It is where all the sets, props, and costumes are stored for the theater productions," Ms. Darbus informed. "It's a…much, much bigger version of our supply closet."
"Let's hope no one gets locked in this one," Riley commented, shooting an angry glare at Cameron.
Cameron simply ignored her.
When they arrived at the warehouse, John found that it was indeed much larger than the supply closet. It was an entire building filled with elaborate set designs, realistic props, and fancy costumes for hundreds of different dramas.
Their tour guide led them through the costumes, explaining when and where some of the pieces were used in a drama.
John watched disinterestedly as the guide led them through the aisle of the weapons props. Up ahead, Jason grabbed a small pistol off the shelf and turned it on John with a smug grin.
"Stick em—."
Cameron's arm suddenly slammed down on top of his wrist with such force that Jason's gun went clattering to the floor and his mouth opened in a silent cry of pain. John almost expected to hear bones crunching.
To his credit, Jason didn't scream, but he clutched at his injured hand, eyes wide and watering. Cameron wordlessly bent down and picked up the pistol. She glared at Jason.
"Don't play with guns."
Jason nodded meekly and quickly backed away. John was scowling at Cameron when she turned around.
"He was a threat," she stated without emotion.
John scoffed. "It was a fake gun," he snapped back. "I wasn't in any danger! Remember at our school when I told you not to act like my bodyguard? You're not doing such a great job. It's embarrassing!"
He thought he saw her wince, but it was gone too fast for him to say for sure. "I apologize. I will try to refrain from injuring your friends any more."
John was at a loss for words. Did that include Riley? He had a hard time convincing himself that Cameron would simply give up her incomprehensible vendetta with his only true human friend.
While he and the other students participated in trying on some of the costumes in the props department, Cameron stood off to the side, merely watching without seeming to.
Ms. Darbus tried to encourage her to try on a costume, but Cameron stonily refused. John cringed. It was his fault, he knew. There must be something wrong with him. He couldn't get anything right. If he was nice to Cameron, Riley got mad. If he was friendly with Riley, Cameron got…well, violent. Or hurt, and that was worse.
He couldn't seem to find the right balance between both. So what did that mean for him? That he had to chose one? Chose between them?
Life was so much simpler when he didn't know either of them. When it was just him and his mother, on the run. Simpler, maybe. But life was better with his friends, with Cameron, with Riley. But not both together.
He hadn't realized he was still staring at Cameron until her eyes snapped up to meet his and he quickly looked away.
**********
"Alright," Ms. Darbus announced in her ever-cheerful tone. "We have all afternoon to shop around in Stratford, eat lunch, or hang at the hotel before we go see 'Hamlet' tonight. If you do go into town, please stay together in groups of five or more."
After Ms. Darbus sent them off, John, Riley, Cameron, Jason, and a couple other students began walking through the streets, examining the shops along the way. John caught a whiff of something sweet-smelling as they passed a store.
"Ooh, a chocolate shop," Jason exclaimed, eyes lighting up at the sight and smell. "Let's go in there!"
John entered the shop, instantly overwhelmed with the smell of assorted kinds of fudge. Riley started browsing through the candies and John shuffled after her, not really feeling in the mood for chocolate. He spotted Cameron observing him from near the door.
"Hey, do you have ten bucks?" Riley asked, pulling his gaze away from his protector.
John checked his wallet. "Yeah, why?"
Riley held up a fancy package of chocolates. "Cuz these cost ten bucks."
John stared at the bag, cocking an eyebrow. "You like this stuff?"
Riley snorted. "Dude, it's chocolate. Need I say more?"
John allowed a smile and took the package to the counter to pay for it. Cameron was standing near the other checkout while Jason purchased his own candy and tried to talk to her. John didn't understand how Jason would want to speak to her after she nearly broke his wrist a few hours ago. But he figured Cameron just had that effect on people. Maybe Jason was attracted to a girl strong enough to kick his butt with no effort.
For some reason, that sent a jolt of irritation through his body. Jason was attempting to coax some conversation out of Cameron, explaining to her why he preferred caramel to chocolate. She looked up at John, as if wanting him to explain.
He wasn't sure if he would have.
Riley was at his side again, taking the box of chocolates with a grateful smile. "Thanks, John."
She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek and John heard something slam onto the counter, shattering some of the glass.
He whirled his head around to see Cameron still standing at the other check-out, looking confused. Her arm had slammed into the surface with enough force to shatter the top panel of glass.
The store manager glowered at her and she flashed him a charming smile, "Sorry."
John couldn't understand. What had made her do that? She'd seemed surprised, as if the action was involuntary. She'd never lost control before. It was almost as if it was a reaction to…
He heard Riley make a disgusted noise from beside him. "Way to go, freak."
John's jaw clenched and he felt an unmistakable rush of anger at Riley's accusation. Cameron didn't respond, and he wanted to defend her. To yell at Riley for calling her that.
His mind froze. Why was he reacting this way? Why had Cameron reacted this way? He couldn't actually feel so strongly about a machine.
They don't have feelings. They don't know love.
He suppressed his angry emotions. Nothing made sense anymore.
No one spoke until they met up with Ms. Darbus and the rest of the group again for lunch. After searching for a good spot, they settled on an upscale gourmet Italian restaurant.
"Fellini's Italian Caffe," John read. "Sounds fancy."
"And expensive," Jason muttered. "Great. I just bought like twenty dollars worth of chocolate."
They entered and were seated in a corner at a large table. John ended up being sandwiched in between Cameron and Riley. He picked up a menu and was surprised to see that it was not in English. "Is this written in Italian?" he demanded. "I don't speak Italian." He knew several languages, Spanish included. But he'd never learned Italian.
The waitress came over and started speaking rapidly in Italian. Ms. Darbus quieted down the group.
"Does anyone here speak Italian?"
Cameron raised her hand. "I can speak over—."
John threw an elbow into her side, clearing his throat. She looked over at him, wide-eyed. It hadn't hurt her of course, but at least it had gotten her attention. "Don't," he hissed in warning, trying to cover it up with a cough. Normal people didn't know a hundred languages.
Cameron got the hint and looked back at Ms. Darbus. "Yes, I speak Italian."
Ms. Darbus smiled, more in relief. "Would you mind ordering for us all?"
The waitress had been waiting, listening to their English ramblings in confusion. "Posso accetto poss a ordinazione?"
"She wants our orders," Cameron translated.
Jason slapped his menu down. "I'd like some macaroni and cheese."
"We go to a fancy Italian restaurant and you want macaroni and cheese?" Riley asked incredulously.
Jason shrugged. "It's cheap."
The waitress tapped her pencil impatiently. Cameron relayed Jason's order in a perfect Italian accent, "pasta e formaggio."
Cameron went around ordering meals for each of the students. When she came to Riley, she asked for the pasta special.
"Zampe di rana, per favore," Cameron stated. John frowned, finding it odd that she hadn't used the word pasta.
Jason seemed to have picked up the same thing. "Maybe Italians have different words for pasta," he began. "You know, like we Americans have a bunch of words for poop: turd, manure, dung…"
"Mr. Reynolds," Ms. Darbus interrupted. "Please do not speak of such things at the dinner table."
"Sorry," Jason muttered.
The waitress closed her book and headed off to the kitchen. The table was quiet for a while until Ms. Darbus asked Cameron, "Where did you learn to speak Italian?"
Cameron shot John a look, then replied, "My old school."
John nodded. "I took Spanish."
Ms. Darbus nodded pleasantly. "So where were you born?"
"I was…born…in America."
John sighed, putting a hand on his head. Of course she wouldn't have said she was built at Depot 37 in the Maguire Gunnery Range. Ms. Darbus seemed a bit confused with her answer, but thankfully let it drop at that.
"When did you meet John?" she asked.
"1999," Cameron replied. He'd almost forgotten that she was supposed to be this stray girl his mother had sort of "adopted".
"She didn't have a family, so we took her in," John explained vaguely, hoping his teacher would drop the subject.
Instead, Ms. Darbus looked stunned. "I'm so sorry. What happened to your parents?"
Cameron kept looking over at John for help, but he didn't know what he could do. "They died," she said simply.
"I'm sorry," Ms. Darbus said compassionately.
"I'm used to it," Cameron replied, without a hint of sadness. John winced, wondering if his teacher would get suspicious of Cameron's lack of emotion.
Fortunately, Ms. Darbus seemed to take it as a hint that John's sister didn't want to talk about it and mercifully stopped her conversation with Cameron.
Unfortunately, she turned it on John. "How did you mother handle the Romeo and Juliet performance? I understand she's a little controlling."
My mom, she's kinda uptight…
His mind blanked for a moment, recalling his early conversation with Cameron Phillips, not the metal-brained killer she turned out to be.
John shook his head, clearing his mind, focusing on the question. "Actually, she was fine." It was his metal-phobic uncle who had flipped out…during the act as well as after.
The waitress brought out their food and John was relieved to have the conversation stopped. He had been glad that Cameron had held her own during Ms. Darbus's mini interrogation. The last thing they needed was to mix up their new cover story.
John was about to dig into his meal when Riley let out a yelp as her plate was set down. John looked at what was on it, and his eyes widened.
"I thought you ordered the pasta special," he said.
Riley nodded slowly, digusted. "I did."
"That's not pasta," John pointed out. On Riley's plate was a platter of frog legs. Jason looked over at her food.
"Ewww," he muttered, inspecting them closely. "I think it's still moving..."
Riley pushed away from the table. "I'll be right back," she said, looking a little green as she headed to the bathroom.
As she left, John turned an icy glare on Cameron, who had perfected the look of innocence.
"I must have messed up Riley's order," she said calmly.
Messed up? "Wait, you made a mistake?" John demanded. "Since when do you make mistakes?" Machines aren't supposed to make mistakes!
Ms. Darbus gave him a cross look. "Mr. Baum, she's only human."
John scowled. That's what you think. He saw Cameron cock her head to the side, as if wondering how he'd respond to such a statement. His anger slowly dissipated. "I know," he said softly. Cameron cocked her head.
Ms. Darbus called the waitress back over and started to grab Riley's nasty plate. Cameron took the opportunity of Riley's absence to lean in close to John, causing his pulse to pick up.
"In the explosion, I believe my Italian speech functions were compromised," she stated evenly. She sat back up and started to cut up her meal.
John stared at her, unable to tell if she was joking or not. Yeah right, a Terminator with a sense of humor. That's new.
Riley returned, still looking pretty ticked. John stole a glance at Cameron whose expression had turned smug. He took a deep breath. So much for a fun-filled six days. Up to now, he'd spent the majority of it preventing Cameron and Riley from killing each other…or more specifically, preventing Cameron from murdering Riley.
Riley wouldn't stand a chance.
*************
They'd returned to the hotel for about an hour before heading off to see "Hamlet." On the way, Ms. Darbus excitedly rambled on and on about how Hamlet was such a wonderful, dark play, accidentally spoiling the ending by tearfully exclaiming how sad it is because everyone dies.
Cameron had turned to John. "Not everyone dies," she stated. "Fortinbras and Horatio still live."
He scoffed. Two out the entire cast. They weren't even the main characters.
"She was exaggerating," he explained.
When they entered the theater, John sat down next to Jason and Ms. Darbus, leaving both Riley and Cameron sitting among other students. He had just about had enough dealing with their drama, and he would have thought his Terminator protector would be beyond such petty behavior.
Her bizarre reaction in the chocolate shop couldn't mean anything, could it? It's not like she could really be jealous of Riley, right?
John got caught up into the play until Hamlet raised the famous query: "To be or not to be, that is the question."
John was suddenly struck by the statement. It was true, wasn't it? That was his choice: to be or not to be. To be the hero, the savior of mankind, or not. There was no other choice. Maybe he didn't even had a choice.
Judgment Day was coming.
Isn't that what I'm supposed to be? A hero? Isn't that who I am?
I'm not who they think I am, some messiah. I can't lead an army. Maybe that's you but it'll never be me, so you've gotta stop it. Please.
That had been his solemn plea to his mother. Stop it all so he wouldn't have to become the leader, the one everyone was counting on, depending on.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were all wrong.
Maybe Judgment Day was not meant to be stopped. Maybe it really was going to happen, was destined to happen, fated to happen, and he just needed to accept that. Maybe he needed to stop clinging to the false hope that he could have a normal life, that everything would work out.
It wouldn't.
He'd never be normal.
Skynet would be born, whether from the Turk or something else, and so would the resistance. He needed to be the hero, the leader of mankind. And she was supposed to help him stay alive long enough to get to that stage. She was supposed to help him, protect him.
He needed her.
There is no fate but what we make.
To be or not to be, that is the question.
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author's note: No offense to anyone who likes frog legs, but...yuck.