Happy New Year everyone! As promised... :-) I stretched this one a bit so I could leave the dirty ugly stuff coming up for the next chapter. It's a holiday, afterall.

"I'd like a Big Mac, a large fry, and a chocolate shake."

"Is that all?" the girl asked over the speaker.

John glanced at Cameron, his tongue in his cheek. "You know what? Make that two chocolate shakes." He pulled out his wallet as he pulled up to the first window.

"If you're going to eat, I'm going to drive," Cameron said beside him.

"I was planning on it, babe. I was even thinking about switching with Goliath back there and stretching out for a nap," he said.

He glanced in the rearview mirror at the triple eight sitting awkwardly in the back seat. Hopefully the windows were tinted enough that nobody could see him. It would just look too odd.

"He has a name, John."

John rolled his eyes and wound his window up as he waited. "Yeah but, 'Seth' is just so creepy."

"It's not creepy. It's biblical. If you had a problem with it, you shouldn't have let John Henry name him."

John quirked an eyebrow at her attitude. "Seth was Cain and Abel's younger brother. So am I supposed to be worried that he's going to become self-aware too?" John asked, pointing to the backseat.

"It's highly unlikely," Cameron said. "Besides, I believe the point was that Seth took Abel's place."

"Yeah, that makes it so much less creepy," he grumbled. "What the hell is taking so long? Did they have to grow the damn potatoes first?"

Cameron ignored him and looked out her window. It was pretty normal for John to get cranky when he was tired and hungry.

"Finally… thought I was going to have to go in and make it myself," John grumbled as he pulled up to the pick-up window. The young girl handed him his bag and two shakes with a smile, and quickly shut her window with a less than sincere "thanks come again."

"Here," John said, handing Cameron a cold cup. "Your very own milkshake."

"Thank you," she said, taking a straw as well.

"I didn't want you to steal mine," he said as he pulled up to a parking spot. He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek to soften his remark. "Switch."

They were back on the road minutes later. John looked as if he'd never tasted anything better as he tore into his messy burger.

"You might want to chew a little," Cameron warned.

"You know what? I think you're spending way too much time with Derek. You're turning into a royal smart ass."

Cameron gave him a withering look. "It's sound medical advice. Digestion starts in the mouth. You should chew your food 32 times. You're averaging about eight before you swallow."

John swallowed his last bite of burger and took a sip of his shake. "Hasn't killed me ye…" He was suddenly leaned over, gripping the dashboard with his hand as he started choking.

Cameron kept her eyes on the road.

"Damn, went down the wrong pipe," he finally managed to say, still sporadically coughing.

"You're not supposed to eat and talk at the same time, either," she muttered.

John stuck his tongue out at her and pulled out the carton of fries. He offered them to her.

"Don't pretend like you can resist the power of the McDonald's French fry," John teased when she declined.

"Don't be such an idiot," she chastised, but took a French fry anyway.

John grinned and stuffed a few in his own mouth, and out of curiosity, watched her.

"Oh! Oh! Twenty four times Miss 'you should chew your food thirty two times'! Oww!" He rubbed his left arm furiously. "Why the hell did you hit me?"

"You were being immature and annoying."

"So you hit me? Do you even know how hard you hit? That's gonna leave a bruise… ow!" John jumped and cowered as close to his door as possible. "Stop smacking me!"

"Stop whining!" Cameron said mockingly.

"That's it!" John huffed and unbuckled his seatbelt. "I ain't sitting by you anymore. You're mean and no fun." He climbed over the center console and into the back seat.

"Hey!" He nearly pitched forward into the triple eight's lap when Cameron smacked his butt. He turned around furiously, rubbing his behind. "You are out of control! What's got you into this 'let's smack John Connor' mood? That's like, boyfriend abuse!" He turned to the terminator beside him, who was staring back at him blankly. "And you just let her hit me," he grumbled.

John turned to glare at the seat in front of him when he heard giggling. "Oh, it's on, sweetheart. It is on."

His words only served to make Cameron laugh harder. The sound of her laughter made John start chuckling too.

Sarah was at the door before Cameron even put the car in park. Three days? Was that all it really took?

She watched her son climb out of the back seat, giving Cameron a wide berth of space.

"You're back already?" she called from the porch. John looked up and smiled, and Sarah didn't miss that he was rubbing his left arm. "What happened?"

John rolled his eyes. "Cameron beat me up."

"What?" Sarah looked passed him at said cyborg.

"He was being an ass," Cameron explained.

"Oh," Sarah shrugged. "Okay then." She biffed her son on the head as he walked by.

John turned to glare at her in outrage. "What was that for?"

"You probably deserved it," Sarah said, before her attention was again diverted. "You brought it here?" It was her turn to be outraged.

"Well, what else were we going to do with it?" John asked. "We should take this discussion inside the house," he said under his breath.

A shrill voice floated down the stairs. "John!"

John was barely in the house before Savannah nearly tackled him.

"Whoa! Hey, munchkin, let us in the house first, we have someone for you to meet," he said, smiling as he gave her ponytail a light tug.

The girl suddenly went rigid, and he heard a gasp escape her lips. Her arms automatically tightened around his waist.

"It's all right," he said soothingly. "He's a friend."

"But John," Savannah said quietly. "He's metal."

John's jaw dropped, and he stared down at the girl incredulously. Who taught her that term?

He quickly looked back up. Okay, so maybe it was more than a little obvious to someone who knew what to look for, but…

"Well, so is Cameron, and so is John Henry. You know that. And they're our friends, right?"

Savannah shook her head. "They're different. I don't like this one," she whispered. "He scares me."

"Don't worry," John said, talking loud enough for everyone to hear, especially his mother. "He's just here to help protect us. He won't hurt you. I promise."

"Come on, Savannah," Cameron said, stepping forward and offering her hand. She led the girl out of the room, glancing once back at John.

"What are we supposed to do with it, John," Sarah asked, pointing at the triple eight.

"Mom, seriously?"

"We don't need another one in the house, John!"

"Well, obviously we do!" John shot back. "Or did you already forget the reason for our recent remodeling jobs?"

"I'm not comfortable with it here. What if it goes bad? This was only your first time reprogramming. What if…"

"Cameron basically did it, not me."

"It can still go bad. She did."

"Mom! She couldn't help the car exploding!" He was tired of this argument.

"It doesn't matter. She tried to kill you. So can this one."

"Ugh, yes it does matter! Don't you get it? She chose not to kill me! She chose to override her mission! She chose me over Skynet!"

Sarah was shocked, but it didn't stop her argument. It only fueled it "Do you really think this one will choose you, John? Do you really think it'll stop if something goes wrong?"

John didn't answer.

Sarah took his silence as a victory, but gave up the fight. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. You better have everything under control," she warned, before stomping up the stairs.

John was left standing there staring at the triple eight's back. At some point, it had decided to monitor the outside through the front window. He wondered if it somehow felt awkward witnessing the argument.

"Um, sorry. Mom's a bit neurotic at times, and more than a bit unpredictable. Chances are, she'll wake up and be your best friend."

"She's right," 'Seth' said, not taking his eyes off the window.

John walked up beside him and stared out the window as well, trying to see anything in the darkness. It was a failure. "About what?" he asked.

He turned to look at him. "I wouldn't stop."

John felt a cold chill run down his spine, but shook it off. "Yeah… I know. Just don't decide to kill me tonight, all right? Cameron's got a temper, and that would pretty much piss her off."

The triple eight imitated John's half smile. "I know. I fought her."

"Ungh," John groaned, falling face down onto his bed. He lay there for several minutes completely still. After almost four weeks in the basement of Zeira Corp, his bed had never felt so good.

He heard footsteps walking down the stairs but didn't budge. Just Cameron.

Cameron quietly made her way to the closet. She took off her jacket, pulled off her boots and jeans, and switched to a pair of John's old sweat pants. She had her own now, but his were lying on top, and she didn't want to make too much noise, afraid she'd wake the apparently sleeping John.

Barefoot now, she crept quietly back towards the stairs. She didn't even make it to the second step.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Cameron looked at the still form on the bed. "Upstairs," she answered.

"Why?"

Cameron looked at the closed door at the top of the stairs patiently. "You need to sleep, John."

"Yes, I know that." John finally turned his head to look at her. "That wasn't what I asked."

"I'll be back down later," she said, before climbing up the stairs.

John watched her until she disappeared. He mentally shrugged, and pulled a pillow over his head. He'd let her terminator-sit for now, at least.

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

Somewhere in his subconscious he recognized this dream. It was the same warehouse, the same boxes.

John ran towards the voice and froze when it wasn't Cameron he found.

It was the triple eight.

He grinned as he pulled out a 9 mm and shot John once in the chest.

John fell to his knees, looking around for the one person he needed.

"Cam…!" he tried yelling, but his voice was choked. He could taste the blood in his mouth; feel it dripping down his chin.

He wasn't able to call for her. She wasn't going to come for him.

The triple eight was suddenly only a few steps away. It aimed again.

He was going to die alone.

John sat up in bed, gripping the damp sheets covering his body. He pushed them off of him and moved to sit at the edge of the bed.

His t-shirt was soaked with sweat and his pants… where did his pants go? He was only clad in his boxers. All he remembered was falling asleep shortly after Cameron had left. He didn't remember waking up to undress.

Oh well. He looked around in the darkness for his clothes, the only light being the streetlight shining through the small window.

He spotted his jeans folded and placed on the desk chair, and his jacked draped over the back.

Damn. Maybe he didn't undress himself. Was he that out of it?

He got up and pulled the first pair of underwear and t-shirt he could grab out of the dresser and marched up the steps.

He made a beeline for the bathroom and quickly turned on the shower. He let the hot water relax him and push the remnants of the dream to the back of his mind. They were getting worse, and were one of the main reasons he'd been so exhausted lately.

He turned off the water and quickly dried himself off before wrapping the towel around his waste and stepping out of the shower. His mother hated when people stepped out of the shower with wet feet. Personally, he thought that's what bath rugs were for. But nobody liked to piss Sarah Connor off, so they all obliged by the rule.

He wiped the mirror with his hand (another thing Sarah hated), and regarded his tired expression. He still looked like hell, but he didn't care. It was probably only just past midnight anyway. At least he wasn't covered in sweat.

After brushing his teeth, he quickly donned his clean clothes and stuffed his dirty ones in the bathroom hamper. He hung his towel to dry on the back of the door and turned the light off. He stepped out into the hallway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before making his way back down the steps.

He shuffled into the kitchen and nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned on the light.

"Holy shit! Cameron… you scared the hell out of me!" he said, his hand over his pounding heart.

"I'm sorry, John," she whispered, obviously scanning his physical appearance with some concern.

"It's all right. I just thought you were out with the… um, Seth."

"We were out. There are no threats. He's still watching for us."

"Right. What do you have there?" he asked, nodding towards the mug in her hands.

"I made you hot chocolate."

"Really? That's… thanks, Cam." He accepted the warm mug gratefully. It was extra chocolaty, with the little marshmallows on top, although he guessed the toothpaste was making it taste slightly off. He smiled, feeling coddled like a little kid. He glanced at the clock on the microwave.

"Come on," he said, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. "Let's go curl up on the couch and watch reruns of Gilligan's Island."

Cameron almost argued, but decided against it. He'd fall asleep soon enough.

And she was right. They didn't make it through one full episode of Lassie before John was lightly snoring on her lap. She gently took the empty mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table. She had added the extra chocolate to cover up the taste of the alcohol she put in the drink. It was just enough to relax him, and send him into a calmer sleep.

She was becoming more concerned about his nightmares. While he always had them, they had lately begun getting worse. The only times he seemed to sleep through the night was when she was with him. He'd still get nightmares, but she was able to get him to calm down without completely waking him up.

She had a lot of practice, of course. It was just like in the future.

She debated carrying John downstairs, but feared it would just wake him up again. She had tried to move once, but he grumbled in his sleep and clutched on to her leg. So she sat there, watching the sky slowly lighten through the window, listening to his steady breathing. The only thing she did was gently close his mouth when it slipped open so he'd stop drooling on her leg.

***************

At about 7:31 in the morning, Sarah strolled downstairs, showered and completely dressed. She smelled coffee and headed straight for the kitchen.

She had actually missed Cameron's presence in the mornings. For some reason, the cyborg always had the coffee ready for her. Sucking up, probably.

She filled a mug and went to sit in the living room, as they still hadn't replaced their kitchen table.

She found Cameron sitting on the couch, seemingly entranced staring out the window. As she neared, Cameron turned her head towards her and held a finger up to her mouth in a shushing gesture.

Sarah walked around the couch to the love seat, spotting her son curled up contentedly, his head in Cameron's lap.

"Rough night?" Sarah wagered.

Cameron nodded, and looked down at John's peaceful expression.

"Thanks for the coffee," Sarah whispered, taking a sip of the dark liquid.

Cameron just smiled. She didn't think telling Sarah that she had just given the directions to the triple eight was a very good idea. She'd probably just dump the whole pot.

Almost as if she had read her CPU, Sarah looked up at the triple eight standing by the window.

"So what are we going to call the damn thing? We can't just go around calling it 'it'," she asked.

Cameron followed Sarah's gaze. "His name is Seth. John Henry chose it."

"Creepy," John grumbled, pulling the blanket that had magically appeared at some point over his head. Must've been the blanket fairy again.

"It's a popular male name," Cameron defended.

"If you dislike it so much, we could have just named it another variant of John. Maybe John Bob or something." Sarah said with grin.

"Shut up, mom."

Sarah heard gravel crunching out in the driveway, and caught the triple eight reaching for his gun. "It's just Derek Reese. Stand down," she ordered.

"Derek?" John asked, finally sitting up. "I didn't know he was coming back."

"I called him last night," Sarah explained, watching the front door. "He needs some rest. Dani knows where to find us…"

Derek walked in and shut the door behind him quietly. He jumped slightly when he saw everyone in the living room.

"Oh, how's everyone doin'?"

Sarah shrugged, and John grunted. Derek nodded in agreement. He picked up his bag and froze. The triple eight, now standing away from him in the corner, caught his eye.

His head whipped around to John, who was purposefully avoiding his gaze. He turned back to glare at the triple eight, grumbling something about "another one" under his breath as he trudged up the stairs.

"Now that's more like Derek," John said.

"He'll get used to it," the triple eight said. Three heads turned in surprise. It never spoke unless it was spoken to.

'Seth' looked straight at John. "In the future, you reprogram many of us. He is one of the few who accept it enough to help."

There's that future thing again. While he lived with it everyday of his life… literally slept with it… John didn't like to think about it if he could avoid it. But a thought occurred to him, one that thus far nobody had thought to ask. At least, as far as he knew.

"When did Judgment Day happen in your future?"

"The first attack by Skynet was August thirteenth, twenty eleven."

John felt his blood run cold. That's practically right around the corner. "So much for trying to stop it," he said softly.

"Judgment Day is inevitable."

"Yeah, that's what they keep saying… So, how did you manage to get captured? What was your original mission?"

"My original mission was to infiltrate Tech-Com and terminate your wife."

"My wife?"

"You were already dead."

"That's a nice thought," John said sarcastically. "Well, unless I was, um… married to someone else…" he stuttered quickly, glancing at Cameron out of the corner of his eye. "We know you failed your mission. What happened?"

"I was unaware Cameron Connor was a machine, she took me by surprise." Seth took a step forward and looked at Cameron almost thoughtfully. "An unknown model."

John was thoroughly confused. "You didn't know?" He looked at Cameron. "Unknown?"

"I'm not part of a series, John," Cameron said. "I'm actually a terminator Class TOK715. I'm one of a kind." She smiled almost self deprecatingly.

"Besides the obvious… what makes you so unique?" John asked.

Cameron looked a bit uncomfortable. "Do you remember when I glitched and thought I was Allison Young?"

"Yes," John said.

"No," Sarah said, her face clearly pissed off. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Oops. "Well, there was this time… Cameron glitched again and got amnesia. She genuinely thought she was the girl she was designed after. She didn't know who she really was, or what she really was."

Sarah's mouth moved a few times, but she didn't say anything.

Cameron took over. "That's how I'm unique, John. I have the capability to genuinely think I am Allison. I would behave like her and I would think like her. I even have some of her memories programmed."

"How?"

Cameron's eyes were focused on the coffee table. "I interrogated her. Skynet kept constant surveillance on her while she was alone."

John saw how uncomfortable she was, and decided to let it go. It wasn't all that important anyway. "So how did he not have a clue what you were? Surely Skynet knew, right?"

"'Class' stands for 'classified'. The other terminators did not know I existed. Skynet kept it a secret, and any other machine that had too much contact with me had their chip completely destroyed."

"Why? What did it matter?" John asked.

"I don't know."

"Really?" Sarah asked skeptically.

Cameron met her gaze. "Really. Skynet didn't tell us everything."

John shrugged. "It only makes sense. Keep the drones in the dark, stay in control."

"I can only assume they didn't want you to somehow find out about me. I was their best chance at infiltration"

"Whatever," Sarah said, grabbing her mug from the table and standing up. "I've got stuff to do. We're seriously low on groceries."

"Wait, I'll get dressed and go with you," John said, pushing the blanket off.

"That's all right, John. You're exhausted. And I hate shopping with you anyway."

"I appreciate your honesty," he mumbled to himself. "Well you're not going out by yourself. Cameron will go with you," he said, loud enough she could hear this time.

Sarah snorted. "I think not. You can keep your metal muffin here with you."

"If it's not me, then it's Cameron or Seth. Take your pick."

"John for godssake I don't need a babysitter!"

"It's not safe to go out on your own. It's stupid, actually!" John yelled, animating with his hands. Cameron was keeping a firm grip on him, preventing him from jumping off the couch.

"You know what?" Sarah said, grabbing her purse and almost stomping towards the door. "As hard as this might be for you to understand, I sometimes just need a little time to myself!" And then she was gone, slamming the door behind her.

"Cameron, can you…"

"I'm not following her, John."

"Fine then. Seth…"

Cameron stood up and folded the blanket she had Seth retrieve for them when John had fallen asleep. "She's a competent, grown woman, John. She knows the risks. Nobody is following her. She's just going to Wal-Mart, she'll be fine."

"But…"

"No."

"What are you making?" John asked Savannah as he grabbed a can of coke from the fridge.

"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Do you want one too?"

"No thanks," John smiled. "I'm not very hungry."

"You should eat," Cameron said, walking in from the back porch. "Sarah will be fine."

"Cam it's been four hours. Even for a Wal-Mart trip, that's a little excessive."

"You called her only an hour ago." Cameron smiled at Savannah and pulled two more pieces of bread out of the bag.

"Yeah, and I just tried calling her again. She didn't answer." John leaned against the counter and ran his hand through his short hair. He was beyond worried.

"Okay," Cameron said.

"Okay?"

"Okay. Call again in fifteen minutes. If she doesn't answer, we'll go look for her."

"Really?" John was already chugging his coke, anxious to leave.

"But only if you eat this sandwich first."

John made a face and groaned. "But I hate jelly."

Giving him her best "don't make me smack you" look, Cameron grabbed his hand and placed the sandwich in it before disappearing upstairs. John inspected it, and found only peanut butter.

John paced back and forth through the living room. Seth stood perfectly still at the window, and that for some reason annoyed John immensely.

"Where the hell are they?" he asked out loud. Of course, he didn't get an answer.

He tried calling Cameron for about the forty-seventh time, but there was still no answer.

"I shouldn't have let her go alone," he mumbled, throwing his phone on the couch. "But what do I know, right? I'm just John Connor, future leader of the resistance. What do I know about anything? Obviously nothing, because nobody listens to me. Not even my own mother. How am I supposed to convince humanity to listen to me if my own freaking mother won't? Or my girlfriend for that matter? No wait, my fiancée, let's make it even better! My goddamn second in command! She'll be fine, John! She's a grown woman, John! Fucking most idiotic thing I've ever…"

The front door opened, and John was there in a split second. "Where is she? Did you find her?"

Cameron and Derek were awkwardly silent.

"I'm sorry, John," Cameron said. Her face was sad, and there was genuine regret in her voice.

"The car's gone," Derek said. "Wherever she is… they took the car, too."

They. Gone.

"She's strong, John," Derek continued. "It'll be all right. We'll find her. I won't stop looking until I do," he promised.

John was near catatonic. He wasn't really looking at anything, just staring off into space. His mother was missing. It was his fault. He should have followed her himself if he had to. He should have insisted more; should have fought harder.

He felt a gentle touch on his arm but he angrily pulled away.

"John…"

"No… don't you dare! You wouldn't follow her!" he yelled at Cameron. "I asked you to follow her, but you wouldn't! And now she's fucking missing! Just… just don't. Don't!" He held up his hands and stormed out of the room.

They heard the back door slam shut, leaving them standing in uncomfortable silence.

Derek looked at Cameron, and was shocked to see she looked as if she was about to burst into tears. He'd never seen her cry, and he never wanted to. He accepted her, and accepted John's relationship with her, but that didn't mean he forgot what she was. A crying terminator wasn't something he was comfortable with, no matter how much he respected her.

He placed a strong hand on her shoulder. "Cameron… he's just upset. It's not your fault."

"It is my fault. I disobeyed John's direct orders. I should have…"

"No," Derek shook his head. "I heard the whole thing. He didn't order you, he asked you. You rightfully denied him. You were honoring Sarah's request. You did the right thing. John could have turned around and demanded you go, but he didn't. I know you would have gone if he had actually ordered you. I've never seen you disobey his direct orders, even though I now understand you're fully capable of doing so. You disagreed, that's all. It wasn't the first time, and sweetheart it certainly won't be the last time. I would know. In fact, all of tech-com freaking knows… but either way, this isn't your fault. You were right before. Sarah makes her own decisions and rules. She knew what she was doing when she went out alone."

Cameron still looked very upset, but at least she didn't look like she was about to cry anymore. Derek was actually a little impressed by his self. That was the most he had ever spoken to her, and for him, that was a lot of talking in general. And it actually looked like he had said something right.

They heard the back door slam again, and turned to watch John stomp down to the basement, slamming that door behind him as well.

"Well how about that. He's getting better," Derek said.

"I don't understand," Cameron said, confused.

"Before, John would have sulked for a long while in self pity before actually doing anything productive. Look's like he cut it down to about two minutes. That's pretty impressive for an eighteen year old. He might just turn out to be a decent general yet." He turned back to Cameron. "Give him half an hour. He'll be okay by then."

Cameron gave him forty-five minutes, just to be safe. She gently closed the door behind her and quietly walked down the steps.

"Her credit card went through at 11:37 this morning," John started, hearing her arrive and not bothering with greetings. "I've hacked the Wal-Mart parking lot security cameras, but it doesn't show anything odd. She put the groceries in the trunk, returned the cart, got in the car, and drove off."

Cameron stood behind him watching the replay of security footage. She lightly touched his neck and did a quick scan of his vitals.

"I'm not going to bite your head off again, if that's what you're checking," John mumbled.

She ignored him. "Someone was in the car with her."

John's eyebrows furrowed and he zoomed in as much as possible. "How can you tell? I can't see a damn thing with the tinted windows. There's nobody in the passenger seat."

"It took her 52 seconds longer than usual to start the car. It was an amateur. Someone with more experience would have waited until she was already driving." Cameron leaned over him and placed her hand over his on the mouse. She could feel his pulse jump under her fingers, and it relaxed her a little more. He wasn't going to yell at her anymore.

She switched Cameras and watched Sarah drive out of the parking lot. "That's the wrong way."

"Oh, yeah. You're right. I didn't even think about that. Anyway, I just gotta hack into some traffic cameras and follow her for as long as I can. Hopefully they stay where I can see them, but I have a feeling that's hoping for a little too much."

"John Henry can help," she suggested hesitantly.

John seemed to freeze for an instant, before smacking himself on the forehead. "For fuck's sake why didn't I think of that? Son of a bitch, I'm an idiot. I need to go call them…"

"I already did."

John paused with his phone already flipped open. "You did? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

Cameron took a step back and looked at the floor. "You needed time to cool off. Having something to do helps." Knowing he can do things by himself was important to John, and she wanted him to feel important… because he was. But she knew better than to tell him that.

"Right," John said, not totally fooled. He took in her almost submissive expression and sighed. He stood up and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Cam. I shouldn't have yelled at you before. It's not your fault. I'm just so goddamn pissed at myself, at my mom… at the whole situation. But that doesn't excuse me being an asshole, though."

"I understand, John," she said, hugging him back. "But you were right. It's at least partially my fault. I should have known better."

"Maybe," John said, pulling away but remaining close enough that she kept her arms around his waist. "We can't go back, though. It is what it is. We just have to deal with it now."

Cameron saw the frown on his face and decided he needed a distraction. John Henry was taking care of things at the moment, and John was no good to them completely stressed out. She ran her hand over his chest, feeling the new muscles through his t-shirt.

"You've been keeping up your work-out routine."

John blinked, his mental train completely derailing. "Um, yeah. They have a gym at Zeira Corp. I'd just go at night, sometimes in the morning to just… you're just now noticing?"

"No," she smiled her faint smile. "I'm just now mentioning it. You probably need some bigger shirts." She moved her hands up to his shoulders, and let them slide down his arms, pausing to feel his well-defined biceps. "Yes, your old button shirts won't fit now."

"Are you purposely trying to turn me on, or am I just having a perverse reaction to a completely non-sexual terminator scan?"

"Is it distracting you?" she asked far too innocently.

"Absolutely."

"Then it doesn't matter."

Oh, I see how it is, John thought. Two can play that game.

"You want to go for a run with me?" he asked.

She wasn't expecting that. "Okay, but only around the block. You know what Sarah missing really means, right?"

John slowly pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it on the bed. He quickly took a covert glace at her. Yeah, her eyes were glued.

"Of course I do. It means they know where we live. Or, at least, the general area." He unbuckled his jeans and pulled them off, taking the time to actually fold them nicely. He glanced up.

Yup, still glued. "So basically, that means Dani talked. And even for what little time I've known her, I don't doubt for one second it took an awful lot to pull it out of her."

He took his time digging through his drawer for a pair of gym shorts and an older t-shirt he cut the sleeves from.

"Which means there's probably a lot of not so nice things in store for my mom, and I'm doing my very, very best not to think about it. Okay?" He finally looked up and waited for some sort of acknowledgement that she heard him.

All he got was a nod.

"Good." He smiled, and pulled his shirt over his head. "Are you going to run in that?"