Be kind with my errors for now. It's 5 am, and I'm going cross-eyed proofing this darn thing. Make a list and send em to me. I'll fix them after I get some sleep! Oh, and don't be all "boring, no action". You know darn well my stories are more crack than action lol. There's plot... and Jameron separation. Oh the possibilities.

"What do you mean 'a lot of danger'? Why haven't you told us before? What do we need that damn thing for? I thought you destroyed it! Have you been…"

"MOM!"

Silence fell over the room once again. "How about we all just calm down and give her a damn chance to explain?" John tugged on Cameron's arm, trying to get her to sit down again.

Sarah had leapt off the couch when Cameron said they would need the triple eight, and Cameron had immediately followed suit. She wasn't challenging Sarah; she was simply putting herself in a better position to protect John and Savannah. It wasn't a logical move, as Sarah would never harm either of them. It was an automatic reaction that Cameron didn't even process.

"Cam… sit," John muttered quietly. Cameron blinked, as if acknowledging the command, and sat back down beside him. Sarah chose to remain standing, glaring at Cameron.

Derek shook his head and stood up. "Hold up," he said, before disappearing into the kitchen. They heard the refrigerator door shut, and Derek reappeared carrying an entire six-pack. He shoved a bottle into Sarah's hands, not giving her an option, and tossed another to Dani. Removing two more, he set the rest on the table and handed one to John. "Alright, now we're ready," he said, kicking his feet back up on the coffee table.

Cameron glanced at John, who nodded his consent before she began. "As has already been discussed before, Judgment day may not be that far off."

Derek cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, um… I know nobody really wants to hear it, but… in the long run… since we're on the subject… it might be beneficial to know that it happened in 2010. For me, at least."

"Well… That would explain why you all were sent here now," Sarah said, finally taking a seat beside him. "It's too soon. It's… we need to stop it.

"Judgment Day cannot be stopped, Sarah." Catherine, in her old woman form, managed to look like a reproachful grandmother; the kind you were afraid to fidget in front of, or get caught sneaking candy before dinner. "Just as progress is inevitable, so is Judgment Day. You can postpone it, you can alter the future, but in the end, it'll happen regardless of what we do here. Our goal is to fight it, not stop it."

The room fell silent once again, each waiting for someone else to pick up the conversation ball.

"Well that just sucks," Dani whispered, breaking the silence.

"Still doesn't explain why we need yet another friggin machine around… one that was to my knowledge already fried." Sarah shot another dagger in Cameron's direction, ignoring the return glare from John.

Cameron effortlessly kept her terminator mask up, revealing no emotion one way or the other. "The closer to Judgment Day we get, the more terminators are sent back to kill John."

"And this is a problem… why? You don't think the…" She did a quick count of the room's occupants, minus the little one. "…seven of us can handle it?"

John snorted and pointed to the room behind her. "I'd say the kitchen is proof of our epic failure to handle a single terminator."

"Our epic failure?" she asked.

"Mine," Cameron said. "Obviously…" she said in a quieter voice.

"All of ours," John corrected. "It doesn't matter. Two terminators fighting on our side is always better than one."

"We already have three," Sarah said.

"Yeah, but when are they actually ever with us?" John argued. "The triple eight would stay with us. It would be a huge help to us and Cameron, who may I remind you again, has absolutely no mission or orders binding her to stick around protecting one, John Connor."

"What's your point?"

"It's not her job anymore," he nearly growled.

"It will always be my job to protect you, John," Cameron said quietly. "It's my choice, not my mission."

Derek scratched his head, feeling a little awkward. "It's a good idea. It's less pressure on Cameron, with so many of us to protect." An idea occurred to him, and he grinned evilly. "And John would be a lot less distracted, not having to worry about her all the time." He flinched as his nephew's foot made contact with his shin.

"Fine." Sarah leaned forward and took control of the conversation. "So we reprogram the damn thing. Whatever. We still need to find whoever tampered with it to begin with. We have at least a general location where it was reactivated. So I say we follow the one lead we have, and cross any other bridges when we come to them."

"I agree; we just start with what we know. I can take a recon team and check out the area," Derek said.

"Right," John nodded in agreement. "John Henry, can you start by checking out any companies, suspect buildings, networks… anything suspicious in the area… especially anything that might house an AI. If it is Kaliba, we might as well cover all the bases."

"Of course, I already have a list ready," he smiled his almost creepy smile.

"Great," John said. "Then the rest of us will be going on a little field trip."

"Mr. Connor," Catherine interrupted. "If I may… I'd like to ask for your assistance with the triple eight."

John's right eyebrow inched up skeptically. "Why? You can't tell me that after creating an entire artificial intelligence, that reprogramming a relatively old model terminator is a challenge?"

"It would be a challenge for you," Cameron said.

Sarah covertly covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile, and Derek took a sip of his beer to hide his own. Dani didn't care enough to bother.

John, though, suddenly found Savannah's hair fascinating. Had Cameron really just called him out in front of everybody? Sure, it was true, but for some strange reason it made him feel like a little kid, too young to do the big people things.

"You can hack a chip, John, but you've never reprogrammed one yet." Cameron explained. She realized she had made John feel embarrassed by her remark, and was trying to follow the suggested prompts from her CPU to make it better. They were usually quite helpful, but this time, she wasn't having much success. "It would be beneficial if you learned how to do it before the war." There, that seemed to have some positive effect.

John rubbed his face with his hand. He really didn't want to spend a significant amount of time alone with Catherine and John Henry. He could only imagine the riveting conversations they would have together.

But it didn't look like he had much of a choice. All that was left was to decide who did what now. Someone had to stay behind with Savannah. While she was ready for some things, recon wasn't one of them.

And he wanted somebody to come with him. He wasn't sure how long the triple eight would take to repair and reprogram, but he was sure it was longer than he'd be able to take alone. If that made him a baby, so be it. Deep down, Catherine and John Henry still creeped him.

He knew automatically who he wanted on recon, and he knew who he wanted to come with him… however…

Sometimes the first choice isn't exactly the best choice.

John sighed and ruffled Savannah's hair. Why exactly had he decided to be the big bad leader now? He didn't want to make the wrong decision. Nor did he want to admit, to himself or anyone else, that secretly, he just tried to figure out what his mother would do.

"Derek and Dani… you're on recon. Take the SUV, get Dani her own phone, and go check the area out."

Derek's demeanor instantly changed. Having been given orders, he was no longer just the uncle on the couch. He was a soldier, ready to follow his general.

"No problem." He stood up and cracked his neck. "Let's go," he said to Dani. "Pack up. Might as well get a move on."

John waited till they were out of the room before he continued. He looked back and forth between his mother and Cameron, and hoped he was making the right decision.

Cameron put four pair of socks in the duffel bag on the bed and zipped it up. In the backpack, she put an iPod, a 9mm, and the laptop. She paused while putting extra ammo in the front pocket when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Cameron…"

"I understand, John." She zipped the pockets and turned to face him.

"Do you really?"

Cameron glanced down at the bags, and back to John. "I understand I am the best choice to protect Savannah. I also understand that with two other machines, you won't need me."

"Aw, Cam…" John sighed and reached up to brush her hair out of her face. "It's not that I don't need you. And I do want you to come with me, I swear. It's just that… my mom has always been there for me, and lately… We haven't been as close as we always been, and I don't like that. I need my mom just as much as I need you. And I want her to know that."

It was true. She had noticed a difference in their relationship, and she was certainly aware that, unfortunately, most of it was because of her. "I understand now. Thank you for explaining."

John's lips quirked into a tiny grin. He secretly loved when she said that. It was a little part of the cyborg that just made her who she was. She knew it was weird to say, but she still did it anyway.

"Speaking of explaining, I think you have some to do yourself." He moved the duffel bag to the floor and plopped down onto the bed.

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, please. You know damn well I didn't fall for your "Judgment Day is coming" excuse. So please, enlighten me. Why do you really want to reactivate the triple eight?" John kept his voice light, hoping to encourage her to be honest. Not that she was truly ever dishonest, but she would often withhold important things…

"Like Derek said, with so many people, I could use the help to protect you."

"Uh huh. That was a really, really good excuse too," he said sarcastically. He grabbed her arm and yanked her down to the bed next to him. Or rather, he tugged hard, and she yielded to his request as if his one-handed strength was enough to pull her down.

"You don't think so?" she asked.

"No, I do. He's right. It's not fair to you to have to keep an eye on so many people. It's not even fair anymore to assume you're just going to do it for even me. You don't have to, you know."

"John…" She checked to make sure she had his undivided attention. "I may not have a programmed mission anymore, but I still have a purpose. Just like you do. Your purpose is to lead mankind in the war against Skynet. My purpose is to protect you; to help you and make sure you are able to do just that."

John thought about that for a moment. "So, I guess that's why we make such a great team then, huh?"

"Yes, we're a good team," she smiled warmly.

"And teammates don't keep secrets, especially from their boyf… fiancé." He grinned, seeing the frustration on her face.

"It is not a secret. I simply don't find it necessary to share."

John just stared at her, waiting patiently.

Cameron looked away.

"In the future, you told me about a new model of terminator that was sent back to kill you."

"Okay, but…" John was silenced by a slender finger placed on his lips.

"It has a solid metal combat chassis, stronger than mine, and it's covered with mimetic poly-alloy… the liquid metal that the T-1000 models are made of. But that's only part of it," she explained. She waited to make sure John wouldn't start talking before moving her hand away from his mouth.

"It is equipped with onboard weaponry, more like the T-900 series. It can form at least ten different weapons, including a plasma cannon which can cause significant damage to other terminators. It also has advanced sensors to aid in human identification, including infrared systems, retina scanning, and the ability to analyze human DNA."

She watched his eyes widen in shock. "Holy shit, was Skynet that desperate?

"Yes," she replied simply.

"Okay," he tried to picture it in his head. "So besides being a heavily armed beast… I mean, what's its advantage? It has a solid endo, so it can be destroyed a lot easier than a T-1000 model…which, by the way, we actually have one upstairs…"

"Infiltration," Cameron explained. "It's a much better infiltrator than the previous models. Its emotional capacity is also much greater. You said you witnessed it display anger and surprise. You said it even audibly growled in frustration. For a regular terminator, that's unheard of. Even with my unlimited emotional capacity, I do not react with inconsequential noises."

John smirked. "I beg to differ…"

Cameron just gave him a barely tolerant look.

"Okay, okay. So… what happened? How did it not kill me?"

"It almost did. Your wife sent an old T-800 model to protect you. At the time, it was a model you trusted and were somewhat emotionally attached to due to your childhood connection."

"Wait…" He wasn't sure what to tackle first. "My wife?"

"Yes, John. You were married in my future. Ten years before I was created."

"Wha.. W…" He rubbed his eyes. "From what you've told us, I wasn't married when you showed up."

"No. She died in child birth."

Oh. He almost felt as if his brain was going to explode. He switched tracks before it could. "How in the hell did an old T-800 protect me from… um, it?"

"It is a T-X. And the T-800 protected you from a T-1000, did it not? It's ruthlessness and loyalty to you, once reprogrammed of course, is what saved you. It managed to detonate one of its own power cells to terminate it."

John was still a bit confused. "How did it find me in the first place?"

"It's a long story. Simply stated, you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. It was purely by accident."

"Well that's comforting," he mumbled.

"Now do you understand why I am concerned?"

"Yeah, definitely… it's just… ugh. Do you really think I need to go spend Lord only knows how long with Creepy and Creepier reprogramming that thing?"

Cameron nodded solemnly. "I do. It's worth the added security, and your training."

They both looked up as Sarah walked down the steps. "John, Derek and Dani are about to leave. I think you should…"

"Yeah, I'll be up in a minute," he said.

"Now would be good."

John rolled his eyes and huffed.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, boy. You may be some future superhero, but I'm still your mother."

"Yeah, yeah…" John barely avoided his mom's slap as he ducked past her on the stairs. "Oh, you're getting too slow!"

"I'll give you slow," Sarah mumbled, before turning her attention to Cameron, who'd stood up to face her.

They regarded each other for several long moments, neither really sure what to say.

"It's good that you and John will get to spend time together," Cameron started awkwardly.

"Is it?" Sarah made her way down the rest of the steps and stood in front of her. "You know, I'm still not sure if I trust you," she said.

Cameron's face remained blank. "You trust me. If you didn't, you wouldn't allow me to spend so much time with John."

Okay. Score one for the tin miss. "Well, it's not like it's my place anymore to make that decision, is it?"

"Of course it is." Cameron looked up the steps as if expecting to see John standing at the top. "You're still his mother, and we both know he's not really in charge. Even he knows he's not totally in control yet. But it's important that he keeps trying. He'll push harder and harder from now on, and that's good. Today was a good effort."

Sarah snorted and crossed her arms across her chest. "I almost slapped him into next week for that."

"I was a bit surprised as well. But I was also proud of him. After all this time encouraging him to…"

"Grow up and stop being a perpetual whiner?" Sarah interrupted.

"To start acting more responsibly," Cameron corrected, but she didn't try to hide her smirk.

"Yeah well…" Sarah looked down at the floor uncomfortably. "That's probably partly my fault. I probably babied him for too long. I don't know." She sat down on the end of the bed and rested her arms on her knees. "I'm just not ready for this. Everything. The war, him growing up, you… I thought we were done. I thought we had stopped it years ago. Then you showed up…" She paused, and started cracking her knuckles one by one. Cameron decided warning her that it could cause an increased risk of arthritis would be inappropriate at the moment, so she just remained standing quietly, not sure if she was supposed to sit or say something.

"Yeah, you showed up…" Sarah continued. "You're both a curse, and a blessing… I don't know if I should hate you, or thank you. And I sure as hell still don't know what to think about you and my son."

Cameron remained silent, unsure where the conversation was leading.

"Part of me wants to puke at the mere thought of him with you," Sarah admitted. "But then… there's another part of me deep down, that actually understands why." She looked Cameron up and down, before steering her eyes towards the floor.

"Of all the women who ever could've been, or would've been in his life…you, a goddamn machine, are the only one who will ever measure up."

Cameron slowly sat down beside Sarah and regarded her doubtfully. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Sarah grinned ruefully. "It's all right. It doesn't really matter anyway." She looked down and picked up Cameron's left hand, bringing it closer to her for inspection.

"Whoa, go figure. My son has good taste."

"It's the diamond he gave me," Cameron offered. "From the safe house."

Sarah was quite surprised, and it showed on her face. She remembered that day clearly. "Diamonds are a girl's best friend

Yeah, that was the day she realized she was going to have a problem on her hands. "Really? You kept it all this time?"

Cameron looked at her as if it were obvious. "Of course I did."

Huh. A terminator understanding the concept of sentimental value.

Sarah dropped her hand and stood up, suddenly feeling immensely uneasy.

"We should get going," Sarah said, walking into the living room several hours later and setting her duffel bag by the door.

"Shhh…" John held up his hand. He stared, seemingly frozen in place for a long moment, before finally moving his knight. "Check," he said, grinning with satisfaction.

John Henry pondered his next move for a mere few seconds before moving a bishop four spaces. "There, that puts me out of check, and I believe…" He double-checked the board. "Check Mate. You lose again Mr. Connor."

John groaned and tipped over his king. "I give up."

"Pfft you never had a chance," Sarah said. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, everything's packed," John said. "Let's get going."

"Noooo!" Savannah was sitting on the couch beside John Henry. She had been elated all day to have her old friend back, but now she certainly didn't want him to leave.

"I will come back to visit again, Savannah. I promise." He gave the girl a hug before following a brooding Catherine Weaver out the door.

"We'll be back in a few days," Sarah piped enthusiastically. John thought she sounded overly hopeful. "Let's go, John."

John finished putting the game away and grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch.

"You packed the supplies?"

"Yes, mom. Like there isn't a Wal-Mart within 10 miles of wherever you go in this country."

Sarah ignored him. "The guns? Ammo? Tools?"

"Yes, mom."

"Medical kit?

"YES, MOTHER"

"You're sure you have everything then?"

"YES!"

"No."

John turned to see Cameron holding his backpack. "I think you're forgetting something."

Sarah rolled her eyes and mumbled something about smart mouthed kids before walking outside.

A bit embarrassed, John took the backpack and gave Cameron a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks." He balanced the bag on the back of the couch and opened the main compartment.

"Front pocket," Cameron said.

John gave her a weird look but unzipped the front pocket as he was told. "Oh… how'd you know I was looking for this?" He pulled out his iPod and held it up.

"Duh," Savannah giggled. "You always listen to your headphones in the car."

John looked back and forth between Savannah and Cameron, both wearing amused looks on their faces.

"Right… why do I have a feeling leaving you two together could be dangerous?"

Savannah just giggled again, and a small grin appeared on Cameron's lips.

"That's it. I'm getting out of here before you freak me out enough to change my mind." He walked out into the chilly night, tripping over a scurrying kitten in the dark. "Hey! Watch where you're running, Snickers."

"Walk much?" his mother asked, already stretched out on the seat.

"Shut up," he muttered, and tossed the backpack behind her on the far back seat. "It's bigger back there, probably more comfortable," he said, eyeing her obviously uncomfortable position.

"Closer to the door," she said automatically.

"Whatever." With one foot in the door, John took one last look back at the house and paused.

Cameron stood on the porch, watching them solemnly. As he watched, Savannah came out and stood next to Cameron, leaning against her comfortingly. Cameron glanced down and smoothed the hair out of the girl's face, before settling her hand reassuringly on her shoulder. She looked up once more and met John's gaze.

John felt something tug inside him, and suddenly, he wasn't sure about his decision. The sight made his throat tighten, and he had to swallow hard to push back the sudden wave of emotion that crashed over him. "What the hell is wrong with you, Connor? Quit being a sissy. Get in the van and get your ass going," he berated himself.

"John?" his mother called quietly. Unfortunately, if his own nagging voice wasn't working, hers certainly wouldn't.

Instead of climbing in the van, he turned back to the house. He made it to the porch and took the steps two at a time, never once breaking his gaze from Cameron's. When he reached the top, his hand found its way to the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her closer. Without a word, he leaned in and claimed her lips in a casually passionate kiss, not giving a damn who was watching.

When he finally pulled away, he stared into her blue tinted eyes and almost… almost lost his will to leave her.

"It's only for a few days, John," she assured him quietly.

He wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him, or herself. He didn't think it worked either way.

The van horn honked behind him. "JOHN! LET'S GO!"

John closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "It had better only be a few days, else mom and I might kill each other."

Sarah sat up carefully, completely sore and stiff. She slowly stretched out her muscles as best she could in the van's limited space.

She'd fallen asleep shortly after leaving and from the feel of it, had slept for several hours. She couldn't tell what time it was from the still-dark sky, so she checked the dashboard clock. It was four in the morning.

She quietly cleared her throat. "Where exactly are you taking us?" she addressed the silent terminators in the front seats.

"Where else would we be going, but Zeira Corp."

John suddenly sat up too. "Wait, what? We can't go to Zeira Corp.," he said groggily.

"And why not?" Catherine asked.

"Well, for one, you sold the company," John said

"And let's not forget the high price tag we have on our heads," Sarah added.

"Nobody is going to see you," Catherine said. "And I didn't sell the company. Catherine Weaver sold it. And only half of it at that."

A cold chill ran down John's spine. He could see his mother had a similar reaction.

"So…"

"So technically, I still own Zeira Corp." Catherine turned around to face them. "All of it," she said, in a deeper male voice they'd never heard before.

John squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temple. He was trying to remember the leader of the company "Catherine" sold Zeira Corp to… and if the media had mentioned any family.

Oh well. The poor man… who must've had a thick Detroit accent… had to have been dead by now anyway.

"We run a confidential business here. You don't ask questions, and you see nothing. It works well," Catherine said conversationally.

They were on the elevator, heading down to the basement of Zeira Corp.

"I would ask that you don't leave the building, or go roaming around much for that matter. For your safety, of course. You will have everything you need, just ask."

"So we're basically just going to be living in the basement then?" Sarah asked.

"Precisely."

"Will there be others?"

"Yes, and they know who you are. At least, partly anyway. Have no fear, you can trust them. Mr. Murch is my most trusted engineer. He rebuilt my John Henry."

"So if you've had Zeira Corp all this time, why not just stay here? Why put up the old lady façade?" John asked.

"Several reasons. For one, I sold it under the pretenses of needing to get away from the business for a while, and second, I had Savannah."

Well, at least that made sense, John thought.

They reached the basement and followed them down the corridor. Catherine stopped in front of a nondescript door and opened it. "This will have to suffice for your living quarters. Get some rest. Our team will begin working on repairing the endoskeleton. That, you need no practice with." With that, Catherine left them alone in the corridor.

John peeked into the room and felt his stomach drop. "Wow. I guess we're sharing a room."

"Just great," Sarah groaned. "You snore like a wild hog." She tossed her bag on the floor and collapsed onto one of the small bunks.

"I do not snore!" John dropped his bags, and tried to get comfortable on his own bunk.

"Oh, please! We had hunters show up at our camp down in South America thinking they were tracking dinner."

"Funny, I don't remember that one," John said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

"Of course you don't, you were sleeping."

"Right, right… at least I don't fart in my sleep.

"Oh come on!"

Instantly cracking up, John pointed at her, trying to catch his breath. "Don't even deny it!"

A pillow smacked him in the face, causing him to laugh even harder. "Thanks! I could use another one. These pillows suck." He then made a show of propping the two pillows up under his head.

"Give it back," Sarah growled.

"I don't think so. You gave it to me."

"It's mine. Give it up, John."

"Possession is nine tenths of the law."

Sarah stalked over to his bed and tugged hard on her pillow. John wasn't giving up easily, though. He clutched both pillows tightly, nearly being pulled right off the bed with them.

They both froze when they heard John's cell phone begin to ring in his backpack. Wasting no time, Sarah dove for the bag.

"Mom! Seriously? Don't do it!"

Laughing evilly, Sarah dug the cell phone out of the front pocket and held it up. "Oh look, surprise surprise. It's your metal muffin. Maybe I'll just hit 'reject'…"

"Mom, no…" John quickly tossed her pillow back across the room. "There, take it. Please?" he pleaded.

Sarah tossed the phone at him and walked back over to her bed. "No gross mushy stuff while I'm in here. Might make me nauseous." She fluffed her pillow and rolled over, hoping to fall asleep… and even considered shooting sheep in her head.

"Hey," John answered after punching in his code. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything is fine. Did you reach your destination?"

"Yeah, we're at Zeira Corp. Go figure. Something about still owning it, or half owning it, or something…"

"Of course. It's a valuable asset we would not want to eliminate. Actually selling it would be counter productive."

John mocked her from the safety and privacy of his end of the phone.

"Please do not mock me, John. It's not my fault you were not thinking strategically."

John stared at his phone, wondering if it had some secret tele-cam of some sort he didn't know about.

"I heard your mouth moving," Cameron explained.

"What? You did not! That's impossible," he said indignantly.

"You're dehydrated. You should drink some water."

"Sure, I'll get right on that," he mumbled.

"There's a bottle in your backpack."

John spotted the bag a few feet away from his bed. He stretched his arm as far as he could and grabbed one of the straps, not wanting to get off the bed. He unzipped it, and behold, he found a bottle of H2O... next to a bag of Cheetos. "You're the best. You know that?"

"You've told me before."

"Have I? Hmm… Have you heard from Derek?"

"No. I'm calling him next."

"All right. Keep us posted then."

He hung up and set his phone on the floor by the bed. "Hey…" He waited for Sarah to roll over before tossing her the bottle of water.

"Thanks," she said, catching it easily. "How's Pooky?"

"Oh, shut up."

"No disaster's yet?"

"Really now, how much trouble… never mind."

"Exactly."

They laid in silence for a long time; neither really tired enough to sleep.

"Do you think we've pretended long enough?" Sarah asked, after what she estimated to be about an hour.

"You think there's a room service button around here?"

Sarah chuckled and stood up. She stretched, feeling several vertebrae pop back into place. "Oh, God I'm getting too old for this."

John sat up as well, and began cracking various parts of his own anatomy. He started with his back, then his neck, and finally, his knuckles. Sarah just watched him in fascination.

"You're sick, you know that?"

John grinned and followed her to the door. "Let's go see what trouble we can cause."

Sarah snorted. "Just don't break anything. I don't want to be here any longer than we have to."

"Agreed." John opened the door and jumped. James Ellison, looking like he'd seen plenty of better days, greeted them.

"Morning. Thought you might want a tour to the cafeteria."

John and Sarah glanced at each other. "There's a cafeteria?"

The former FBI agent stared at them like they were idiots. "Yes, it's a business office building. Most large corporate establishments have them."

"Right," Sarah said. "Then lead the way. I believe we have a lot to catch up on," she said meaningfully.

"You have no idea," Ellison said to himself.