First, I tried, but this is my biggest chapter ever. I'm sure there are a ton of typos I've missed. I apologize in advance. It was finals week, after all.

Thanks to everyone still reading, and enduring my long wait times. It's hard to push them out as fast as I used to. And for those who haven't noticed, part of the reason is that my chapters have doubled, if not tripled in length compared to Irony, Thy Name is Cameron. Top that with I wrote Irony during the summer (while school was out), and you get lots of wait time now. This chapter isn't so much filled with action either, but by now I'm sure you all know… that's the majority of my chapters lol. There will be some action coming soon, but we're getting ready for judgment day, so there's more preparations than full out action in the coming few chapters. I've had a few people ask what's coming soon. Well, I don't want to give everything away, but I'll give you a few things to look forward to at the end of this chapter.

Oh, and Terminators DO use conjunctions when speaking. Please refer back to every episode with terminator dialogue. Thanks. If you need an example, the final episode is amazingly full of them. - I can't remember who had asked me about my terminator dialogue.

Lastly, I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate... Chapter 13 will be up before the new year.

THREE WEEKS LATER

John slouched forward in the comfortable desk chair. His head was propped up on his hand while he typed with the other. Luckily he could type faster with one hand than most people could type with two. He sighed and hit the enter key hard enough to make the whole keyboard bounce.

"Ok. Hook it up."

He leaned back and stretched, waiting for his mom to plug in the chip. They'd been working together for the past three weeks, and it was working quite well actually. Sarah was either truly interested, or a great actress. Either way, if he was at the computer terminal, she was there too. She didn't really have a clue what he was doing, but she watched patiently, and pretended she was grasping what all the numbers scrolling across the screen meant.

They also just talked... a lot. They talked about everything and nothing. They talked about life in general, old memories, Skynet, Derek…former and current (as weird as that was), the Dani and Cameron drama, and John's relationship with Cameron.

Well, maybe not so much of the last one. When you had that kind of conversation with your mom, you almost had to wear a fire suit to protect you from the awkwardness. John added the helmet and boots, and even some reflectors for extra security.

The one thing they somehow silently agreed to avoid talking about was the future, and other than a few uncomfortable fire suit moments, it was almost like the old days when all they had was each other, and could talk about anything.

"I think you broke it," Sarah said.

John sighed. "Did you put it in right?"

"Of course I did. Nothing's happening." She removed the chip from the T-888 skull and handed it back.

John reconnected the chip and scrolled through the code. "Oh, duh. Here." He furiously typed for a few seconds. "There, that should do it."

Sarah re-plugged the chip in and heard the tell-tale whirring sound of the terminator booting. "Okay, we're in business."

At 120 seconds, the torso and head of the triple eight twitched and came to life. As John was about to ask it to identify itself, its mouth opened and a horrible screeching sound escaped.

Sarah cringed and covered her ears as John yanked out the chip and stared at it in shock.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THAT THING?" Sarah shouted at her son.

John's face reddened as he reconnected the chip once more to the main computer. "Well, I started playing with my own programming. I tried eliminating some of the base code and inserting my own."

Sarah slowly sat back down, still regarding the terminator's face stuck in an expression of horror. It creeped her out. "Well, maybe you should just stick to the original programming. Whatever you did sounded painful."

John tossed the optical mouse across the desk and leaned back in his chair frustrated. "Mom, I've been trying that for weeks! I just haven't been able to get it right yet. I'm not sure I ever will. I'm honestly about to give up. I haven't slept in days, and I've had no progress whatsoever."

Sarah had noticed his restless nights. He often kept her awake, tossing and turning on the squeaky bunk. She had been concerned, and had even approached Catherine about it.

"You know, he's been working on it for a long time now. Longer than we expected. Don't you think perhaps it's about time to give him a hand? Or at least a hint?"

Catherine had just stared at her blankly. "I am already doing him a favor. Imagine if he had to learn how to do this in the middle of the war?"

Sarah frowned, remembering the frustration she had felt.

"But what if he always had someone who had helped him learn? Cameron is here, and she knows how to do it. Maybe it was part of her job to come back and teach him."

"It was," Catherine said. "But you benefit more from someone handing you the tools you need and telling you to figure it out yourself, than someone handing you step-by-step instructions on how to do it. He'll gain a thorough and in-depth understanding of how each strand of code functions by learning this way. He is on schedule. I had no illusions of this being accomplished quickly."

"You could have warned me," Sarah grumbled. "I'd have stayed home."

Actually, Sarah had to disagree with herself. She would never take back the amount of bonding time they shared over the past several weeks. They had both learned a lot about each other, and even began to see things from the other's perspective.

"Well, hey, it's been a long day. Why don't we go hunt down something to eat and call it an early night?" Sarah suggested.

John considered it for a moment. "Nah, I wanna work on this some more. You can go ahead. Ellison's usually eating around this time. He'll be riveting company, I'm sure," he said with a small grin.

Sarah's faced scrunched in a disgusted look. James Ellison was a nice man, but he was boring as hell to keep company with. His main job was still to work with John Henry, although his responsibilities had stretched to be counselor to the several other permanent employees that were in the know about the future and Catherine herself… itself. Evidently, some of them were having a difficult time reconciling what they knew now with they had been taught by religion all their lives. Sarah thought it was just plain stupid. She didn't understand how one could doubt something they see with their very eyes, but believe in something they can't even prove exists.

"It's simple," she said, in a heated debate over lunch one afternoon. "There is no fate but what we make. So what does it matter what some imaginary being 'wants' us to do or be? In the end, it's our decision. If there is a God, I'm not sure I even want to know the bastard."

James Ellison had closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer above. "Sarah... that which you call fate, is not actually fate. It's destiny. Fate cannot be controlled. It's what you were given in this life, determined by time, date and place you were born. It's more like God's plan for you, if you will. You can't change it. John's fate is to be the future leader of the Resistance, born to you in 1985. He can't control that; it is what it is. His destiny, however, can be controlled. It's up to him to decide what kind of life he leads, and what kind of leader he'll become. Destiny is your free will, and the power to make your own decisions."

"And Skynet... the destruction of humanity... is that God's plan too?" she asked. "It seems no matter what we do, we can't escape it."

"No," Ellison said sadly. "Judgment day is the result of our decisions and way of life. It's not what God wants, it's what we've chosen for ourselves inadvertently through our careless actions. In essence... Judgment Day is humanity's destiny."

"Well... if what you say is true, then screw him. My son didn't deserve his 'fate'."

Ellison actually laughed. "Sarah, John's not even supposed to exist, according to the natural order of things. His fate was set before he was even conceived. It's almost as if he was chosen for the job..." he was silent for a minute. "Actually, he chose himself for the job, since he sent his own father back to do his business by you... so I suppose John did choose his own fate. Huh. I wonder who came first, Kyle or John. Well, obviously Kyle, but I wonder who sent Kyle back the first time, and how he happened to meet you..."

Sarah blinked, and shook her cloudy thoughts away. It wasn't a conversation she wanted to relive.

"How about we just order a pizza?"

John nodded. "Mushrooms and onions please."

"My favorite," Sarah agreed with a smile. She stood up and headed out of the room, stopping in the doorway to glance back at her moping son. "John... go take a nap."

"I'm fine, just irritated," he answered.

"It wasn't a question."

"I said I was fine," he grumbled, but John stood up anyway and followed her out of the room.

Sarah sat on her bunk with her back against the wall, watching John toss and turn restlessly. He had been sleeping for hours; every once in a while mumbling something incoherent, and occasionally uttering a name that couldn't be mistaken. When the pizza came, she didn't have the heart to wake him up. He hadn't slept well in weeks, and Sarah had more than a little inkling as to why.

She flipped open her useless cell phone to check the time. Eight o'clock. Down in the basement they had no service, so their phones just turned into glorified watches. John hadn't even charged his in over a week. At first, he would sneak upstairs, which Sarah guessed, to check for any messages. Each time he would come back downstairs looking dejected. After a week or so, he stopped bothering altogether. Evidently, a certain terminator didn't have the obsessive teenaged tendencies to call their boyfriends every 10 minutes while they were away.

Sarah closed her cell phone and tapped her fingers on her denim covered thigh.

Should she, or shouldn't she?

John rolled over again and murmured agitatedly as she gazed at him.

Yeah, she should. And she was about to win the Best Mom Ever award for it, too.

Cameron dried the last dish and put it away in the cabinet. She wiped off the counter, laid the towel over the sink to dry, and turned out the kitchen light as she headed for the stairs.

She entered the bathroom and was pleased to see that Savannah had hung her own towel to dry, and even brushed her teeth without being told. Clicking the small night light on, she headed for Savannah's room.

It had all become routine. Dinner was at 5:30, then Savannah was allowed to watch TV before her bath, and then it was bedtime at 9:00. Of course, she would always get asked to read a story.

Cameron rounded the doorway and paused, seeing Savannah propped up in bed, already reading a book.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

Savannah held up the book for her to see. "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. It's Amanda's."

"May I see it?" Cameron skimmed through the book, checking random words. It was at a good reading level for her. "You are enjoying this book?"

"Uh huh," Savannah nodded.

Cameron returned the book to her, and not being needed further, got up and began tidying up the bedroom. An errant sock was put in the hamper, and a board game was put back on a shelf. Savannah's new friend Amanda had often come over to play, and the girls were very good about cleaning up after themselves, even after sleepovers.

When John Henry and Catherine had come, they brought with them Savannah's bunk beds from the old house. The first day after Cameron had put them back together, Savannah had asked if Amanda could sleep over. She didn't see any harm in it; she just made sure she didn't act like a "scary robot".

So she ate dinner with them, and pretended to sleep at night; things she had gradually stopped doing once Savannah had figured things out. If she did or said something that seemed goofy, Savannah always covered for her by distracting Amanda. It impressed Cameron, actually. In fact, it had even intrigued her enough for to do research on child development. It was really amazing how children changed, and how much Savannah had grown up since they first met her.

Once the bedroom was clean, Cameron walked back over to tuck Savannah in. "It's time to sleep now."

"Awww... just a few more minutes. Pleeeeease? I'm not even tired!"

Cameron was quite used to this argument by now. She simply held out her hand and waited for Savannah to hand over the book. She tucked the girl in, and handed her her favorite teddy bear.

"Cameron?"

"Yes, Savannah?"

"Will I get to go to school with Amanda next year?"

Cameron thought about that. She wasn't sure if Sarah had planned to keep her at home for home-schooling or not. She also wasn't sure how safe it was to send her to school.

"Do you want to go to her school?" Amanda attended a small private Christian school. It would be more difficult for anyone to track Savannah down there. Most likely, anyone would start looking in public schools. It's what she would do.

"Yes! I think it would be so much fun. Going to school at home is boring."

"We'll see what we can do, then," Cameron answered, without promising anything.

Savannah smiled, and snuggled down contentedly.

"Goodnight, Savannah." She kissed the girl on the forehead. She had done it before, but after her research (which also included parenting videos, and watching movies and TV with parent-child interactions), it was something she had done every night since. It seemed to make Savannah feel happier.

"Goodnight, Cameron. Love you."

That had become a regular thing, too. And it gave her a good feeling, almost as much as when John would say it to her.

"I love you too," she said quietly, before turning off the lamp and closing the door almost all the way. At first, she used to respond simply because it was expected. But, although not as strong as her attachment to John, Cameron cared about the girl. In fact, she had decided to make it a priority to protect her as much as John.

She went back downstairs and began her nightly patrol of the house. She secured the perimeter outside, and when she was satisfied all was safe, she returned back inside to shower and change into pajamas; a charade she continued because… well, she didn't actually have a reason. It was just part of the routine now.

She sat on the couch for hours, trying to find any information about some of the buildings Derek and Dani had found to be suspicious. It was frustrating, because all she could find was information on the buildings' history. Nothing on the current owners.

She jerked up when headlights suddenly shone threw the window. She had no need of a clock; she internally knew it was almost 2 am.

Standing up quickly, she moved to hide against the wall and peek through the curtain.

She didn't recognize the vehicle, but she knew the person stepping out of it.

She waited for her to reach the porch before opening the front door.

"Welcome back, Sarah."

They were in a dark warehouse. John was running between stacks of crates as silently as he could.

"John! John, where are you?"

He slid to a halt and ducked down, hoping he wasn't breathing too loudly.

"John, it's me! You know me, John! Please, believe me!"

He heard the echo of her footsteps behind him and prayed he was hidden well enough.

"John! Why are you doing this? Please! I love you, John! Please don't leave me here!"

Desperation clouded his judgment, and he ran towards the voice, not away.

And there she was. Her clothes torn, and deep cuts on her face revealed the metal underneath.

"John!"

She smiled and held out her hand to him.

He reached for it.

"No! John!"

He turned, and there she was again. The skin of her face half missing, her left leg broken and dragging as she tried to run to him.

"John, run! Get away from it, John! Hurry!"

He heard the true panic in her voice. This was his Cameron. He began to run for her, but try as he might, his legs wouldn't move. He looked down to see why he wasn't running, and saw a metal spear sticking out of his chest.

He heard someone scream his name.

He looked back up at Cameron and saw the look of pure agony on her face.

This wasn't right. He looked back down at this chest, and saw the blood soaking his clothes and pooling at his feet. Why couldn't he feel it?

He tried to speak, to call out to her, but he couldn't form the words. His knees gave out, and he fell to the floor.

He tried to crawl to her, but his limbs felt heavy. He gave up and collapsed to the floor once more.

He felt her light touch on his face and turned his head to look her in the eyes one last time.

"Wake up, John."

What? What did she mean wake up? He was awake. He was staring right at her. He should be dying…

"Cam…"

"It's all right. Wake up, John."

John jerked awake, gasping for air as if he had been suffocating.

"Shhh. It's all right, John. I'm right here."

He felt gentle fingers brush his hair away from his face, and turned to see Cameron sitting on the edge of his bed, a look of concern on her face.

"You had a nightmare," she whispered.

"Cameron?"

John swiftly sat up and enveloped her in a tight hug. He felt her hands rub soothing circles on his back, and the anxiety from his dream slowly melted away.

"What are you doing here? When did you…"

"Not long ago," she answered. She slowly pulled away and studied his face closely. She could see it clearly, even in the darkness. He looked like he could sleep a lot longer. His eyes were dark and puffy; his forehead was creased from stress. She reached up and caressed his face, and felt the stubble on his cheeks.

Cameron suddenly felt sad. In that moment, John had resembled his future self more than ever. It was too early, too soon. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"You look like shit, John."

John was taken aback by her honesty and choice of words, but only for a moment. He chuckled and lay back down on the bed, rubbing his face. "Yeah, thanks. I feel like shit."

"It's still early. You should get some more sleep."

"Eh, what time is it?"

"6:21 a.m."

John's eyebrows hiked up his forehead. "Holy hell, I've slept for almost 12 hours. I need to get up and start working." He glanced across the room and saw that his mom's bunk was empty. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

"So this place finally drove mom crazy?"

"No, she was worried about you," Cameron said. "She sent me to…help."

"Oh." John felt his cheeks flush, and was glad for the cover of darkness. He covered his eyes with his arm. "She's been looking at me all weird for a couple of days now. Like she was waiting for me to spontaneously combust or something. It's just been exhausting trying to figure the damn thing out. I can't sleep at night, cause I'm constantly thinking about what I can try next, or what I already did that doesn't seem to be working, or…"

He paused, feeling the small bed dip under Cameron's weight, and a lithe body form itself around his under the covers. A cool hand travelled under his shirt and rested on his bare stomach. "You should sleep more," she said. "There is no rush today. I am fully capable of reprogramming a terminator."

"What?" John turned to meet Cameron's eyes, mere inches from his own. "You mean to tell me mmph…" Cameron's lips captured his, effectively silencing him. Her tongue claimed control, kissing him deeply as her hand began to roam.

He knew exactly what she was doing, and knew he shouldn't let her get away with it. He needed to get up and start working, and he wanted to glare at her and tell her how thoroughly uncool it was to make him live here for three weeks trying to figure out how to do something she could have taught him in 5 minutes.

But… she was making it rather difficult to object to the current activity. He felt his body heating up under her touch, and wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her closer. "I thought you said I should sleep more."

Cameron moved her attention to his neck. "There's a 98% chance you'll be asleep within the hour."

John's hands paused in their own journey under her top. "Wow. That's almost mean. You don't play fair at all."

Cameron found a particularly sensitive spot, which elicited a moan deep in his chest. "That doesn't sound like a complaint."

"Cheater."

Derek tossed his burger wrapper back in the empty McDonald's bag and pulled out his cell phone. He only had to hit the send button twice, as the last person he called… actually, the last 25 calls he made… was to the person he wanted.

It didn't even ring. He heard it connect right to the voicemail and he snapped the phone shut, growling, "Damn it, Dani!"

He tossed the phone onto the driver seat and sighed in frustration.

He and Dani had split up almost immediately. When you didn't know where to look, you could cover twice the area separately.

If they didn't regroup at night, they called to check in. They knew where the other was at all times, or at least a general location at any rate.

Derek hadn't heard from Dani in two days.

He'd been calling her, but after the first few tries, the phone had stopped ringing altogether. He didn't want to panic. Recon was unpredictable, and sometimes, you ended up having to infiltrate yourself without warning.

He shouldn't be worried; Dani was very experienced. Hell, she was a fairly high ranked officer.

But this wasn't a time, place, or situation that she was used to.

So he had jumped in the car and drove to her last known location. He searched all day and all night, looking everywhere he could think of, but there was no sign of her.

There wasn't much left for him to do. He picked up the phone again and debated for a moment. He knew he had to tell them. Even if he could convince himself that there was nothing to worry about, whether or not there actually was, wasn't his decision to make.

He flipped open the phone and brought up his contacts list. Now, the question was…

He considered his options for a minute, then made his decision. He scrolled down a few names and hit the send button.

When again the line didn't ring and went straight to voicemail, he pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, wondering if it was his device that was defective. He waited for the beep before leaving a brief message. "John, call me back." That was all that was necessary.

He ended the call but left the phone open, debating once again.

He shrugged to himself and dialed another number.

"What the hell?" He shouted to the empty car when he got yet another immediate voicemail connection. He left the same message in Cameron's inbox before closing the phone and giving up. Calling Sarah was an option, but…

His phone rang, and he all but hit the roof when he jumped. He glanced at the caller ID and felt a little deflated.

He flipped the phone open once more and punched in a few numbers. "That was fast," he said.

"Is there a problem, Derek?" Cameron asked.

"Mornin', Mr. Ellison. You're here early today," John smiled and poured a generous amount of syrup over his pancakes.

James Ellison gave John a curious look before setting his own tray down across from him. "I've told you before to call me James. And where's your mother this morning?"

John shoved a large bite of pancake in his mouth and swallowed before answering. "She got bored. Ran screaming into the night."

"Good for her," James said, buttering some toast. "You seem to be in good spirits this morning."

"Am I?" John feigned indifference. "I guess sleep really does work wonders."

"Yeah," James said, unconvinced. "I guess it does."

They ate mostly in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. They were well used to it by now.

"How's the project coming along? I heard the thing was all patched up and ready to go."

Before John could answer, a hand was placed on his shoulder and the chair next to him pulled out.

Cameron slid into the chair beside him and smiled politely. "Good morning, Mr. Ellison."

"Uh, good morning, Cameron. I didn't know you were here."

"I arrived this morning," she explained.

"Oh." Ellison returned his focus back to his breakfast. For as much time as he spent with machines, eating breakfast with them didn't make his list of top 10 favorite things to do. This machine in particular made him uncomfortable. She had a way of looking at him as if she was seeing right through him; judging him almost. Even now, he could feel her eyes on him, and he had to concentrate to not fidget under her stare.

John cleared his throat and took a sip of his chocolate milk. He didn't need to tell her to knock it off, she understood completely.

Cameron tore her eyes away from Ellison and focused on John and his breakfast. "You look much better now," she said. "I should have come sooner."

"Now, that was a weird thing to say," Ellison thought. He scooped up some scrambled egg in with his toast and pretended he didn't hear anything.

"Nah, you were right. I needed to do this on my own."

Cameron didn't look convinced. John shrugged it off and looked at the empty table in front of her. "Maybe you should get something to eat," he said, glancing around at the various other breakfasters in the cafeteria meaningfully.

Cameron glanced around as well. "Okay," she agreed. She reached for his fork and gently snatched it from his fingers. Pulling his tray closer to her so it was between them both, she cut a piece of pancake. Careful not to drip syrup everywhere, she took a bite and handed John his fork back.

"I make better pancakes," she told him offhandedly, as if she wasn't aware of the two very different stares she was receiving.

John looked as if he was trying to decide between laughing and being angry with her. It looked as if it was the former, as his lips were twitching at the corners, and he was having a difficult time keeping the stern look on his face.

Ellison's look was different. She couldn't tell if he was horrified or disgusted. Either way, it didn't bother her, and she just smiled sweetly at him. She didn't trust or like the man much at all.

Ellison cleared his throat and abruptly stood up. "Please, excuse me. I have a lot of work to attend to. Have a nice day, John," he said, obviously ignoring Cameron.

"You too, James," John mumbled, nodding at him as he nearly ran from the table. He set his fork down and looked at Cameron. "Did you have to do that?"

"No, I didn't have to," Cameron said. "But it was funny."

Her blunt honestly caused him to bust out laughing. "You know, you can be obnoxious at times, but I love you for it. That just made my freaking day. Let's get going. These pancakes are pretty terrible, and we have some work to do."

John tossed the contents of his tray in the trash and lead Cameron out of the cafeteria. "So, what did Derek want?"

Cameron waited for the elevator to clear before answering. "There's a situation, but it's being taken care of."

John just stared at her patiently.

When she didn't continue, he got a little worried. "Cameron… what was the situation?"

The elevator doors opened on their floor, and Cameron followed John quietly to the room that he had been working in for three weeks.

When the door closed behind them, John turned and pinned her with a stare. "Cameron, please don't make me ask…"

"Dani is missing," she said, walking past him and to the computer terminal.

"What? She's missing? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did," she deadpanned. "Could you log in please?"

John stared at her, barely refraining himself from blowing up. "Cameron, we need to do something. We can't just…"

"Yes, we can. There's nothing we can do. Derek is looking for her, and John Henry is doing his best to help. That's all we can do."

"We can be helping!" John shouted.

Cameron stood back up from the desk and walked over to John, standing right in front of him calmly, her face unreadable.

"Stop and think about it, John," she said in a quiet yet stern voice. "In the future, you'll understand that you can't save everyone. Rescue missions are rarely successful, and even when they are, too many lives are always lost." She waited to see if he would argue. When he didn't she continued. "If you sent a rescue mission out to find everyone who went missing, I probably wouldn't have been created."

John stood staring at her, finding nothing he could say. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. She was right, of course. He knew the procedures. It was why they didn't go looking for Allison during the three weeks he spent in the future. Why they never went searching for her in the first place.

"It would be different if we knew where she was, John," Cameron continued, this time in a more soothing manner. "I would have gone for her myself in that case. But we don't know, so all we can do is our job here."

Again, she was absolutely right.

"Then let's get to work," John said, sighing in defeat. He logged into the terminal and connected everything. "Just don't make fun of me. Remember I don't know what I'm doing."

Cameron leaned over his shoulder and stared at the screen. A curious look crossed her face with just a hint of a grin.

"You got pretty close, John. I'm surprised."

"Yeah, right. You should've heard that thing screech yesterday."

"John!" She said exasperatedly. She stepped around the chair and sat down on his lap, pushing his hand away from the mouse.

"You can have the chair if you want," he said, looking around her at the screen.

"No, thank you," she said, scrolling through the screen.

John took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her tightly as he watched and listened as she explained what she was doing. He really hadn't been all that far off… Well, it took three weeks of guessing to get somewhat close. In all, reprogramming a terminator didn't actually consist of a whole lot of changes. You kept the base programming, but added your own mission directives that overrode Skynet's. You could never actually delete all of Skynet's orders, and that was the tricky part. Actually getting your code to override Skynet's. It was the part he utterly failed at. She didn't poke fun, though. In fact, she almost sounded a little proud at supposedly however close he got.

"So, it's done?" he asked, not long later.

"Yes, it's done." Cameron handed him the chip.

John smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "You're a life saver. What would I do without you?"

"Become an addict, live homeless until you were 22, get hunted by a T-X, marry a veterinarian, then work your way up on the military ladder until someone figured out you weren't as stupid as you sounded."

John blinked. "That was a rhetorical question."

"Oh."

He thought about what she had said. "That was really me, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was really you."

"Wow…" He tried to imagine himself being that person. "That must have freakin sucked. I now have a whole newfound appreciation of you, and my future self for sending you to me."

"Why?" Cameron asked. "You fared just fine. In fact, you probably had less problems leading the resistance without me, from what everyone who has come back since has told us."

John snorted and guided her out of the room, shaking his head dramatically. "Come on, a veterinarian?"

"She made a good field surgeon, and a good wife."

"And so will you," he countered. He stopped her in the hallway and looked both ways to make sure it was clear of an audience.

"Listen to me, Cam. You know me, and I know sometimes you know me better than I know myself. But when it comes to… some things… I can promise you I know myself best. And this I know for sure… I loved you in the future as much as I love you now. I didn't send you away from me, I sent you to me. I wanted you in my life, and I knew what I was doing when I sent you back."

"I don't understand," she almost whispered. "How do you know?"

John grinned, and slowly looked her up and down, head to toe and back until his eyes met hers again. "Trust me. I knew the second I realized what you were… I didn't send the sexiest terminator Skynet ever created back in time, just to be my bodyguard."

John was suddenly pushed forcefully away. Not so much that he was injured, but enough that he stumbled all the way back to the adjacent wall.

"You knew all along, and you still treated me that way?"

"Uh… well, no… I mean… no, Cameron, it wasn't like that!"

"Oh? Well then how was it John? 'You never sleep, Cameron, why don't you do my laundry?' 'It's none of your business Cameron, stay out of my life!' 'I'm going out with Riley, Cameron, go do the dishes before mom comes home!'"

John was rendered speechless. What the hell was wrong with her? Where did this tantrum come from? Why and how is she having a tantrum anyway? Why did she have to bring all that crap up now?

"Cameron… that's not…"

Cameron turned and began walking down the hall, completely ignoring him.

"Cameron! Wait… Cameron!" John caught up to her and grabbed her arm. At first he thought she was just going to drag him down the hall with her, but she stopped. He turned her around to face him and caught her… smiling?

"Gotcha!" she said sassily. She kissed him lightly on his bottom lip before turning and continuing back down the hallway.

John was left standing in the middle of the hallway looking like an idiot, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

"I'm going to get you for that!" he shouted after her. When I figure out what the hell you just did, he thought.

"I've heard that before!" her voice floated back to him.

It was official, John decided. He had created a monster.

In his mind, he heard his future self laughing at him.

"Come on, Connor!" She called back. "We have work to do!"

Coming soon… very soon. As in, the next chapter is already half done. I love winter break!:

-We have a new T-888 to train.

-We have a child who needs to start some serious training… or has someone already started?

-Someone else just might go missing… but why?