NOTES: Takes place during "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today", though diverges somewhat from the aired version. It could be considered a sequel to my previous story "The Uncanny Valley", but it is not necessary to have read it.
SUMMARY: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley.
DISCLAIMER: All characters herein are the property of someone other than me. No profit has been earned.
"Only Lonely"
Chapter 4
T.R. Samuels
By the time they reached Dejalo it was mid afternoon, the sun casting yellow rays across the little village that was adorned in vibrant colour.
John smiled as he grabbed his bag, stretching the pins and needles from his body as he stepped into the place he had all but forgotten. The sights, the sounds, the people. A remote oasis in the harsh realm of Mexico. All across the square sat bejewelled alters of skeletons and sugar skulls wrapped in dyed clothe and golden marigolds. Amidst the decoration people walked and danced, their faces painted white to the shape of their bones as children roamed about in their quest for candy.
Dia de los Muertos.
Cameron was as perplexed as her uncertainty allowed, these humans some of the strangest she'd seen as two children scurried past her.
"It's good right?" John asked, smiling at her bemusement before he offered her his hand. Her eyes stayed wide as she surveyed the scene, in no hurry to comply.
"Don't worry, I'll protect you."
She gave him her look, the one she gave him that lay between tolerance and amusement, making no attempt to receive him.
He stepped to her and slipped his hand into hers, pulling her forward with his confidence, pleased when she didn't resist as they began their way down the street.
"What is everyone doing?" She finally spoke.
"In English it's called the Day of the Dead. It's to remember friends and relatives who have died and to pray for them. Today the dead are closest to the living. The festival's tonight."
She thought this a dubious claim, but John was often right about many things. All accept Riley, of course.
Before she realised it he had dropped his bag and pulled her toward him, taking her by the waist with his hands as he pulled her against him, love in his eyes as her arms found their way around his neck. The kiss was electric, promising Cameron all she ever wanted. All the warmth and affection of John Connor, the man she had idolised and the boy she adored.
It took almost a minute before their mouths broke apart, their faces still pressing together. "Feel better?"
Cameron had to find her voice again, the corners of her mouth curling up. How did he do that? "Yes."
They were startled as a man in red moved about them, casting his hand in the air and showering them in delicate petals of white confetti, a group of lavishly dressed ladies passing by, clapping their hands and laughing as they spoke amongst themselves.
"What did they say?"
John smiled. "They said we look good together."
They did. Cameron had known that, glad beyond reason now John knew the same as her hand cupped his cheek.
He loved it when she did that. A hand that could break him in two, reach down his throat and yank out his heart, fulfil Skynet's every design, but only brought him back to her mouth.
A gentle breeze caught up around them, their passion growing, and in some far off time and place, John felt Skynet spin in its grave.
####
In no time at all John had led her to the village's only hotel, a weathered old thing of sandy white that dominated the central square. They entered the lobby, a domed room with a polished floor of burgundy stone, reaching the desk where John began conversing with the concierge. The man seemed preoccupied with some other task at first but after some bargaining John handed him a small wad of American dollars in exchange for a key, looking rather pleased with himself.
"What?" She asked.
"Nothing, you'll see."
After traversing the stairwell beyond the lobby John soon brought her to the last door on the left, slid the key in the lock and waved her in ahead of him. She stepped inside and before John could follow placed a firm hand on the centre of his chest, pinning him to the door as her eyes swept the room.
Satisfied there were no detectable threats she released him and moved inside, still wary as she checked the adjoining rooms. John smiled to himself as he scooped up her bag with his and brought them both to the foot of the expansive bed.
She soon returned from the balcony. "The room is safe and there are no detectable threats in proximity to the building."
"Plus the décor is lovely. Passion red." He grinned, arching his eyebrows before promptly collapsing on the duvet.
She glanced around, noticing the aesthetics for the first time, a warm red that permeated everything.
"Does this room have some special of significance?"
"It's the honeymoon suite, Cam."
"Honeymoon?"
"Where couples go after they…" The words were out before his brain caught up. "Uh… get married."
If he hadn't have seen it with his own eyes, John wouldn't have believed it, but for an instance he was certain he saw her cheeks colour as red as the room before it was replaced by a fire in her eyes he'd only seen once before. He froze as she approached, feeling like a deer in headlights as she placed her hands on his shoulders and mounted his lap, their bodies sliding together as John moved his hands to her waist.
"Is that what we are John? A couple?" She asked, moving her hands around the back of his head, stroking his hair.
How could he deny her? When she was his Cameron and not his protector.
"Yes."
"Then you have no intension of returning to Riley."
John's smile began to form, feeling as though she were fishing, but stayed poker faced. "Why do you ask?"
He immediately felt the change in her as her hands stopped their motion and she levelled him with an unblinking gaze.
"I don't trust Riley, John."
A strangled laugh made it out of him. "You don't say."
"I'm serious."
"I understand."
"She's a bitch-whore."
Now he did laugh, the reverberation coming from the bottom of his shoes up. Cameron remained stoic, her eyes narrowing, not at all amused. Before he knew it she was disentangling herself from him and marching across to the balcony.
"Hey wait! Cam!" He called after her, all humour lost. "I'm sorry, it's just I didn't expect you to say that." He reached out and touched her shoulder, flinching as she shrugged it away, her back remaining to him, arms folded, looking out across the village.
"Cam… are you jealous?"
"No."
John felt as though he had seriously misjudged the situation and thought carefully before he dug the hole any deeper.
"Cam, I'm not going to go back to Riley, I promise. When we get back I'll break it all off with her."
Cameron remained as she was, unwilling to even talk now.
John rubbed his face with his hands, hoping he hadn't blown it with her already. "If there's one person I won't let get between us Cam, it's Riley." He promised. "I won't even let mom or Derek get between us. Not after last night,"
That was an understatement. "Hell, after last night I don't think I'll want any other woman ever again."
Still she remained as she was and John began feeling truly dejected.
"Please talk to me Cam."
Cameron had heard his every word, knowing John was telling the truth. But the anger she had felt at the mere mention of Riley had caught her off guard, her first real encounter with the emotion. Up until last night she had only felt things in the most insipid of ways, brief sensations that crossed her mind. Occasional distractions. Always fleeting, never staying. Just beyond her grasp. Frustrating without her ever knowing or understanding.
Until John had taken her in his arms on his bed, blasted away the cold metal around her soul and brought her to life.
She turned to him, seeing his shock as he saw the tears brimming around her reddened eyes. He felt like a heel, sickened with himself for playing with her.
"Prove it," She demanded, voice low, eyes alight. "Take me to bed and prove it."
In less than a second John felt every self pity drain away, replaced with the fire mirrored in her eyes. Their mouths crashed together, passion blown out of proportion like before. Wanting. Needing. All he could think about was taking her, giving her body every corporeal promise that he was for her and she had nothing to fear.
Cameron's passion bloomed, desiring every forceful affection as relief flooded through her, demanding all that was his to give. Breaths grew short as they stumbled back to the bed, fumbling with buttons and zips. In seconds she was pushing the shirt from his bare shoulders, kissing her way down his neck as he undid her pants, the impressive silver buckle finally conquered.
It felt easier than before, now territory had been mapped and the fear of performance was a memory. John fell back onto the bed as Cameron pulled down his jeans, bounding on top of him before they were barely undressed.
She wasn't going to wait this time.
John moaned out as she glided onto him, lifting his torso to meet her as his hands slid up her back, beneath her shirt as her body began moving against him. He buried his face in her neck, kissing around her throat as she arched her back, her rhythm finding its pace as his hands urged her on.
God! Her body was so tight. Even through her clothes he could feel the firmness of her torso, the strength in her limbs, everything working toward their mutual pleasure as he tried to slow the race of his heart.
Clear blue ocean. Clear blue ocean.
The mantra helped, but with Cameron he needed everything he could get.
Margaret Thatcher. Margaret Thatcher.
Cameron had no need for distraction, embracing every feeling John gave her as she moved back and forth, quick and steady, seizing every moment before she fell off the edge. The pleasure spooled up inside her, aching for more, wanting to take and be taken all at once. John reached up her back, gripping her shoulders, adding the force from his hips that she needed, and her breath was stolen from her.
She cried out, louder than she ever had, as her body convulsed into heavenly contractions and she fell into his arms. John surrendered, yelling her name as he followed her over, wrapping her tightly in his arms. For minutes all they could hear was the breath of the other, the aftermath painful as they came back to Earth.
Cameron clung to him, feeling as though she had come apart, needing John to put her back together.
"Are you alright?" He asked, kissing her neck.
She nodded, her body still shaking. She had found her release but it hadn't been as good as the night before. Too much worry. Too much stress. Last night had been for love, to have all things forbidden avowed and affirmed. This had been for lust and fear. This had been for all the wrong reasons.
John hugged her tighter, feeling her composure return as she leaned back to look in his eyes. Without having to ask he understood. It wasn't sex that she had needed, all that was bonus, or have his fidelity confirmed. They needed what they had yet to have.
They needed to relax. They needed to have fun. They needed to be loved.
"Cam," He asked. "Do you want to go to the festival with me tonight?"
Her eyebrows knitted together, deciphering the implication.
"Are you asking me out, John?"
He began to smile. The truth sounded good out loud.
"Yeah."
Now it was Cameron's turn to smile, starting as a shy grin that she covered by kissing him, soft and sweet.
"Alright then."
####
The roar of an engine bombarded her senses as Sarah Connor fought her way out of unconsciousness and returned to the land of the living. Blue sky and clouds hung overhead as sandy dust whipped passed her eyes.
"Your strategy's changed since last time."
She recognised that voice; sexy and soulless. The car jerked up and down over uneven road and she realised that her hands and feet we bound with industrial tape.
"Has it?"
"The first time we met you tried to kill yourself."
Sarah gave a sardonic smile, hating the bastard. "You're right. This time I'm going to kill you!"
As she struggled against her bindings a whip of air picked up the scatterings of Cromartie's research, revealing pictures of Cameron. More than half contained John as well. The two of them were like a double act.
"She hasn't been careful. She's made mistakes." He commented, keeping his eyes on the road. "Not as many as you, but enough."
The thought of Cameron made her skin crawl, her mind conjuring a hundred scenarios of how she and John might be cavorting.
"Does she have damage to her chip?" Cromartie asked, observing her from the rear-view mirror.
She said nothing.
"She has damage to her chip."
"How did you find the house?"
"The boy told me; the one from the bowling alley."
All at once Sarah felt the weight of another failure press down on her soul.
"You should have killed him. Just like you should have killed yourself."
Her anger flared as she bucked against her restraints. "I'm not a murderer!"
"Who is?"
In one last tug the band around her feet gave way and Sarah dove for freedom, half praying for death, but instead only sliding across the trunk of the car before crashing onto the unforgiving earth, instinct pulling her into a protective roll as Cromartie slammed on his brakes. Before she could react he was upon her again, relentless, hauling her to her feet before stuffing her into the trunk and slamming it shut.
####
Despite all she had seen and done, despite all the two of them had done together up to this point, Cameron Phillips had never felt so nervous. She sat opposite John in the town's only restaurant, filled to capacity as people ate and drank, merriment all around. As John finished conversing with their pretty waitress she tried to get a handle on her nerves, stirring the ice in her drink.
John had never looked so handsome, changed into a collared shirt and expensive jeans, shining up like a new silver dollar. He even smelled different, her senses filled with something spicy and warm.
"What?" There was humour in his eyes and he looked entirely at ease.
"You." A smirk crept into her voice. "I like it."
She was rewarded by his million-watt smile, certain that it interrupted the flow of power to her chip.
"I like you too."
John wasn't kidding. Cameron looked better than ever, the first time he had seen her in a dress; one that looked tailored to her figure and made his heart ache, her makeup perfect, hair divine, heady perfume controlling his mind. But that dress. Pale with watercolours, the neck sloping into a point over her chest. Classy and elegant. Hopeless in a fight.
Perfect.
"I'm not certain that I understand the etiquette of this ritual." The nervousness in her voice was obvious and it pulled on his heart.
"Don't worry, you're doing great." He reassured, reaching his hand across the table where it found its way into hers.
By the time their food arrived Cameron was feeling better, settling into John's comfortable aura.
John began eating immediately, the plate of chile relleno his favourite. It wasn't long before he felt Cameron's curious attention as she watched him savour the meal.
"What's that like?" She indicated his dish.
He nodded to her own. "You tell me."
Regret tinged her eyes. "I don't really have a sense of taste."
"That dress says otherwise."
She began to blush, her body knowing no end of treason tonight. "Sarah brought it for me."
John chuckled. "I'd have liked to have seen you guys shopping together."
"It was a laconic experience."
"I'll bet."
She smiled. "I did pick the dress out though. She said it was fine."
"Oh, it's fine alright." His eyes sliding over her in appreciation. "What made you choose it?"
She stayed quiet for many moments, looking him in the eye before speaking in heartfelt tones.
"It's for you John. All of it's for you."
John felt his breath lock up in his chest, his heart skip every other beat as the lump rose in his throat. Sometimes he just wasn't ready for the things she said.
"If you keep saying things like that, I won't be responsible for my actions."
Cameron gave him her beautiful smile, all the sustenance his soul would need as they heard the sound of the band strike a new chord in the street beyond the bar. He took his nerve with both hands and asked what he had dreaded ever being asked by a woman.
"Do you want to dance?"
Cameron felt a thrill go through her, needing no time to think. Finally, something she was good at.
"Yes."
John stood up and offered her his hand before she rose from the table and he led her outside, brushing past a man putting batteries in his camera, before stepping out into the night.
The street was filled with people, still dressed to the nines and enjoying the music, some waving sparklers as fireworks exploding overhead. In no time at all they were swept up in the celebrations, soon finding themselves amongst other couples as the band switched from the cords of a fandango to something more appropriate.
John's tried to quell his nervousness again as the music began, trying to recall all he could from his youth, but before he could make a move Cameron slid her hand beneath his shoulder.
"I'll lead." Her confidence felt like salvation.
John released all his nervousness in one breath as he moved his hand to the top of her shoulder, their other hands slipping together.
Cameron was a fantastic dancer. Every move perfect to the music, graceful and fluidic, but easy enough to follow. Soon all uncertainty was forgotten and they were dancing amidst the other couples like they had done so for years. The joy flowed from Cameron as they swayed about, seeing all the love and affection John could ever want as they moved around in a spin, making her laugh.
The music came to a flurried crescendo and the crowd broke into cheers and applause. John looked deep into Cameron, bottomless pools of brown shining cobalt blue as time and space came together to a perfect point, finally telling her what he had wanted to from the start.
"I love you."
Cameron felt a painful ache where her heart would be as every protocol and coded logic of her chip was banished to oblivion.
"I've been blind and I've been stupid and I'll never take you for granted again."
Her hands slid behind his neck, urging him towards her.
"Oh… and you were right," He added, stopping their motion. "Riley is definitely a bitch-whore."
Cameron fell in love, crashing their mouths together, kissing him for all he was worth as fireworks flashed red and green across the sky.
I apologise in advance for my ignorance of Dia de los Muertos and any and all things Mexican.
Hope you liked it. Next chapter is on its way.