Timeline: Set after Demon Hand and before Vick's Chip, Season One.
Femslash. Edited slightly to fit the M rating.
The alley was dirty, grimy; trash strewn around it as if nobody had ever ventured down it other than to offload unwanted debris from their lives. There was no need to enter this alley for any other reason, it didn't lead anywhere, or didn't seem to. It didn't have anything but dark shadows and looming buildings on either side. Yet here they were, carefully stepping through the garbage and detritus, heading in, searching for clues.
They were following a lead from Derek. He knew there was a resistance fighter out on his own somewhere. He'd been sent back with information, but his movements had become suspicious, his mission possibly forgotten as he found a new lease on life pre-judgment day. They didn't know exactly where he would be for sure – his mission had been top secret, more undercover than seemed helpful – but they had an idea. They had an alley and a disused building.
"Can you see a door?" Sarah asked, squinting into the gloomy passage before them.
"No," Cameron replied without emotion or apprehension.
Sarah took a breath and slowed to a halt. They could be walking into a trap for all she knew. She could be trapped. . .by Cameron.
It didn't bear thinking about. She had no choice but to trust the terminator beside her. It wasn't an easy task, and every day she questioned her sanity over the matter. Cameron wasn't human. She wasn't flesh and blood. But they had to live with her, fight by her side, trust that she was really there to help. She'd helped many times so far, but Sarah was still wary. She couldn't rid herself of the bad taste it left.
"There's a hole. It's boarded up," Cameron continued, cracking the silence between them.
She was pointing ahead, to the side of the building stood to their left. Its windows were high up above them and there was no entrance, but as Cameron had rightly spotted there appeared to be some bricks missing in the wall further along, and a hastily arranged piece of wood filling the gap.
"Looks like we found our way in," Sarah said, mostly to herself.
Taking a quick glance back towards the alley entrance, Sarah pulled her gun from the back of her pants. She could see nobody following and the street beyond was quiet. Her eyes drifted to Cameron as she too pulled her weapon free of her clothing, her face as serious as ever, concentration etched into her features as she waited for Sarah to give directions.
"You're sure this is the place?" Sarah asked as she made her way towards their only opportunity to gain access undetected.
"No," Cameron replied flatly.
Sarah couldn't help but chuckle. Cameron was often just too honest for her own good. Sarah didn't want lies or mistruths either, but with Cameron there seemed to be nothing in-between. She stuck to the facts, the reality, the cold hard glare of whatever it was that had to be done, or said. She was emotionless in her answers, in the mission, in the lives that she was sent to protect. At least that's the way things had been for the most part; there were those other – very few – times when Cameron showed glimpses of something more.
They were glimpses Sarah tried to ignore as much as look for. She didn't want to think of Cameron as anything more or less than what she was. A cyborg. Metal parts and programming. If she came to the conclusion Cameron was more than that. . .she'd have a problem. A very big problem.
"Looks like somebody's used this recently," Sarah suggested as she pushed the thin piece of wood away from the gap in the bricks and mortar.
Cameron looked on as Sarah peered into the darkness within the building. She couldn't see anything other than dust particles floating before her eyes in the scant light coming from dirty windows.
"Let me look," Cameron said, kneeling beside Sarah and waiting for her to move away. "I should go first anyway."
Brushing dust from her knees, Sarah moved back, allowing Cameron to take her place. It was probably best for Cameron to go first. It was the smart thing to do, which is why Cameron had obviously suggested it. If it was a trap, or if there was a resistance fighter with an edgy trigger finger in the building, it was better all around if Cameron was the one to find it out about it. She could get hit by a shower of bullets and come back out alive, but Sarah didn't have that luxury. And she needed to keep smart, and safe for John.
"There is nobody in the corridor this leads to," Cameron informed as she pulled herself back out of the small hole. "It's clear."
"Then I guess we go searching," Sarah said, nodding towards the hole for Cameron to lead the way.
It wasn't long before they were making slow progress deeper into the dilapidated old warehouse. There was little light and the walls were crumbling in places. Doors hung from their hinges and large rooms lay mostly empty, save for a few crates or the odd desk and broken chair. It didn't seem like anybody had occupied the place in any form for a long time, but Derek had been certain – or as certain as he could be – that he'd seen a man that could have been the one they were looking for, running into the alley just a day before. It was the only lead they had, and regardless of the possible risks. . .they had to follow it.
The sound of scurrying to her left caused Sarah to spin around on the creaky floorboards, peering into an empty room with her gun held aloft. Cameron scanned the area slowly, eyes blank and determined.
"Rats," Cameron concluded.
They continued further down the corridor until more scurrying once again captured Sarah's attention. This time it came from ahead of them – down the corridor - and was louder.
"That's not rats," Sarah said quietly, blinking through dust filtered light.
"Probably not," Cameron muttered without consternation.
She was always so cool and calm. It often made Sarah feel even more edgy and fidgety. There was something about the girl, the machine, that made her feel off balance with herself. She'd tried to put it down to the fact she was a terminator and therefore everything she despised and had fought so hard against. . .but it wasn't just that. There was something else. Something she couldn't bring herself to think too long about.
As Cameron readied her gun and waited for Sarah to make a move, Sarah caught the rustle of a coat or jacket, and saw movement ahead. They weren't alone.
"That way," Sarah said as she began to run down the passage. She wasn't about to let him get away if it was their man.
"Wait!" Cameron called as Sarah sprinted off.
She didn't wait. They had to catch the rogue soldier before he fled and took away their only opportunity to capture him. She motioned for Cameron to follow and the thudding steps behind her told her that Cameron was doing just that.
"Sarah, the floor," Cameron said as they ran. "You have to wait."
Sarah could see the outline of a man far ahead of them beyond the brighter area they'd just ran into. He was getting away and Cameron wasn't speeding past her like she'd hoped she would. In fact, it seemed like Cameron was slowing to a stop. She'd said something about the floor.
Before Sarah could process the information or worry about what it meant, she heard a crack; a loud splitting noise splintered the atmosphere and the ground gave way. The floor gave way.
"Wait!" Cameron called again, only this time it was tainted by uncharacteristic distress.
They were both falling; dust and dirt rushing in plumes around them obscured the view but it was obvious whatever they were falling in to was deep. Sarah felt Cameron bump into her and then she was pulled into strong arms. Cameron's grip was tight, her body positioned behind Sarah in a move too quick to fully realize before an ugly thud and the sound of air rushing out of Sarah's lungs indicated they'd landed.
It wasn't a soft landing by any means, but Cameron had broken her fall.
Sarah tried to focus, tried to breathe but she was winded badly and the pain in her ribs indicated broken bones. She couldn't move from her position on top of Cameron; not on her own anyhow.
"Cameron," Sarah said weakly, coughing as dust scratched at her throat and airways.
There was no answer.
Lifting a hand, Sarah brushed away splinters of wood from her body, doing her best to roll off Cameron without causing herself anymore pain. She glanced up to where they'd fallen from; at least two stories, maybe three. The floor above their heads was broken, pieces of wood hanging limply where they'd crashed through it. Coughing again, Sarah blinked and waved away some of the dust that was still swirling around.
Cameron still wasn't stirring, which wasn't a good sign. Turning back to her, Sarah squinted, barely able to see yet as her eyes adjusted to the shards of light coming only from above. She called Cameron's name again, but got no response. She reached out, pausing for a second before prodding her in the shoulder. Still no response.
"I'm not that damned heavy," Sarah mumbled as her gaze swept over Cameron's face.
There was no sign of life from the terminator. . .except for her soft breathing. Sarah wondered if that was normal if Cameron had been knocked 'off line'. She didn't know enough about the cyborg's anatomy – or lack of - to judge. She was a mystery to Sarah, and as she sat heavily beside her in the darkness. . .she had to conclude that the reasons were many and varied, but that they all pointed to one thing in particular. One thing that kept creeping up on her, that kept her awake at night, that made her want to hang her head in her hands and sigh at the irony of it.
"Hey," Sarah said, softer than was probably sensible given the fact she was trying to rouse Cameron, "wake up, sleeping beauty."
Cameron's eyes remained closed, and Sarah was almost sure 120 seconds had come and gone. Something was very wrong. Cameron wasn't rebooting.
She dug her hand into her pocket, pulling out a quite clearly broken cell phone. The screen remained lifeless as she flipped it open.
Trying not to worry too quickly, Sarah hoped that Cameron had brought her own phone along. There was the distinct possibility it was in worse shape then her own, but she had to hope for a break to come her way.
Stirring up the quickly settling dust once again, Sarah shuffled closer to Cameron. She wondered which pocket the phone would be nestled within and silently prayed for it to be easy to get to. Reaching towards Cameron's jacket, she snuck her hand inside. The soft cotton was warm from being snug against Cameron, and she had to ignore the way it made her flesh prickle and her thoughts buzz. She found the phone in an inside pocket and pulled it out with ease. Flipping it open, Sarah quickly discovered that even though the phone seemed to be in full working order. . .it had no signal – not even a hint of a signal.
"Of course," Sarah murmured.
She placed the cell phone beside her own on the floor and regarded Cameron for a few moments. It really didn't seem right that she was unconscious. In fact, it was way into the realm of strange and possibly impossible. She thought about testing for a pulse, but cyborgs didn't have hearts. Like the Tin Man. She lifted her hand and brushed aside locks of hair from Cameron's face, studying her for twitches. . .for anything that indicated she was alright.
Nothing. No movement.
Sighing and instantly regretting it as her ribs reminded her of the fall she'd just experienced, Sarah moved her unsteady hand down to the softly rising and falling chest of the terminator. She could feel each breath correspond with the sound. It really didn't seem right for Cameron to be breathing. She was made of metal. If she wasn't. . .awake, or aware, surely the breathing should have stopped. Her hand moved lower, steadily feeling around for any indication of major injury or damage. There was nothing she could easily determine without Cameron's input. She'd just have to wait and see what happened.
Pulling her hands away and instantly ignoring the pang of regret it caused, Sarah quickly made a point of identifying her environment before daring to ease herself back against the nearest wall. She looked around, but didn't have far to look as it appeared they were in an unused elevator shaft - or something similarly small - that had been abandoned and covered to make room for more storage or office space above. There were no doors or ways in or out that she could see. The only way in. . .was the way they'd come.
Her gaze picked out the glint of metal by Cameron's boot clad feet. Their guns had fallen side by side. She scooped them up and placed one beside her as she sat back against the wall, choosing to keep the other one in her hand. There was somebody else in the building after all. She didn't want them popping over the edge of the big hole they'd made to rain a few bullets their way. She cocked it and released it, blowing the dust off, gripping it tight.
"Stuck in a hole with an unconscious terminator," Sarah said with a wry smile. "I hope I wake up soon."
But she knew it wasn't a dream or nightmare. No, not a nightmare. . .Cameron wasn't in those. She paid Sarah's mind rare visits in her sleep, but they weren't traditional nightmare scenarios, though they always left Sarah in a cold sweat, breathing hard and on the verge of panic. She tried to ignore those dreams. . .the ones in which Cameron was more real to her than any machine should be.
She shuddered and pushed the thoughts away, her body betraying her current state and her desperate need not to think of Cameron as anything other than John's protector - as the wire, metal and flesh that she was. Cameron was pretty, she was. . .alluring, and even tempting, but she was still a cyborg and Sarah couldn't allow herself to forget that. Ever.
As the light shifted above them, indicating that the day was growing older, Sarah began to worry a little more about Cameron's current state. Placing her gun down and releasing the grip she'd had on her ribs, Sarah once again shuffled towards the prone girl.
She was still breathing; regular breaths with no worrying sounds or gurgles from none existent lungs. Her skin felt warm to the touch and Sarah left her hand lingering softly on her cheek as she looked down on her. She really was beautiful. Not perfect. Not flawless. Just beautiful.
"Come on, girlie," Sarah implored, her voice hushed by the breath she found faltering from her lungs as she tried and failed to move her hand away.
Shaking her head and repeating to herself that she should back away, Sarah brushed her thumb gently over Cameron's naturally pouty lips. Her stomach took a slow dive into madness, the flame of desire burning through her in warning.
"Back away, Sarah," she told herself.
Her hand trembled and she pulled back. . .just as Cameron's eyes opened wide and fixed her with a terrified stare.
Sarah could see fear, confusion, panic. All things she'd never seen in Cameron's eyes before.
"What. . .what happened?" Cameron asked, her voice shaky and timid as she coughed a little.
She reached up to her head as Sarah sat back on her haunches, looking down on her.
"We fell," Sarah replied, watching warily. Waiting.
She watched as Cameron looked up towards the light streaming down from where they'd fallen. Cameron's hand felt the back of her head and she furrowed her brow; an expression Sarah had definitely never seen Cameron use before taking over her fine features.
"Am I hurt?" Cameron asked as she tried to push herself up into a sitting position.
"I don't know," Sarah answered honestly.
She moved back a little way, kneeling just out of reach of Cameron, her hand once again gripping her gun as she picked it up out of the dirt. She could see waves of confusion and worry crossing over Cameron, her small frame looking more frail than it ever had as she struggled to sit against the wall behind her. Sarah felt the urge to help, to comfort Cameron. . .but she also felt the need to protect herself. Her survival instincts weren't about to let her be fooled if the terminator had somehow knocked a wire loose and was unstable.
"I don't remember falling," Cameron said wearily.
Sarah raised an eyebrow and tried to think of an appropriate response. She didn't know robots could lose their memories.
"Do you know where you are? Who I am?" Sarah asked.
Cameron thought about it a while before replying, "I don't know either of those."
She sounded scared. Lost.
Rubbing at her brow, Sarah noticed the confused look Cameron was giving her as she sat holding her gun tight in her hand. It probably was a little scary to find yourself in a hole with somebody you didn't know holding a gun. At least, to anybody but a terminator it would be scary, Sarah thought.
"Do you know your name?" Sarah asked, caught between feeling crazy for asking and feeling stupid if it was some kind of trap.
Cameron scrunched up her brow. "It's. . ." she looked down to the floor and back up at Sarah. "I. . .I don't know what it is."
Sarah thought she saw Cameron's bottom lip quiver as she glanced back up at the hole above them and back down to Sarah. She didn't think she could handle it if Cameron were to cry. It was too human. Too. . .unlike her.
"You don't know your name?" Sarah pressed, watching Cameron's face and trying to determine whether she was telling the truth.
"No," Cameron repeated. "Are you going to shoot me?" she asked tentatively, looking at the gun in Sarah's hand.
Her grip loosening on the weapon just a little, Sarah thought about it for a split second – wondering if she had it in her to shoot Cameron while she was so seemingly vulnerable. She couldn't do it. Couldn't even imagine doing it.
"No, I'm not going to shoot you," Sarah replied, taking a chance and laying the gun down on the ground.
She didn't like how terrified Cameron appeared to be of her right now. Was she really that intimidating? Sarah hoped she wasn't.
Making sure she'd be able to turn and pick up her gun quickly if she needed, Sarah moved towards Cameron again, ignoring the slight flinch from her.
"Your name's Cameron," Sarah told her. "I'm Sarah, your. . .friend," Sarah continued, doing her best to sound reassuring.
"Why don't I remember?" Cameron asked.
"I don't know. You hit your head I think."
Once again Cameron's hand went to the back of her head. She grimaced slightly and pulled back - blood on her fingertips. She gazed at her fingers, a puzzled expression bordering on cute making Sarah relax somewhat.
"Let me see." Sarah said, kneeling beside Cameron in the dirt.
She smoothed her fingers over the back of Cameron's head, noticing the silky feel to her hair but pushing how much she liked it aside so she could concentrate. Cameron lowered her head for better access and Sarah noticed that there was a bump, and a very small amount of blood. Sarah hadn't realized terminators could get lumps and bumps in such a way, but they bruised and grazed so it wasn't a huge leap really.
"Is it bad?" Cameron asked quietly.
Sarah wiped her hand on her pants – cleaning it of Cameron's blood – before answering, "Not really. You're probably just concussed."
Cameron nodded, her big brown eyes gazing up at Sarah – full of trust. Sarah had to look away.
"How did we fall?"
Sarah held her chest over the spot she could feel her ribs protesting her movements, as she turned to sit against the wall beside Cameron. The light was streaming directly onto them from the big window above the place they'd fallen through. It picked out dust particles as they swirled and danced to the floor. There was no breeze where they were, and the air was beginning to get uncomfortably hot.
"We were. . ." Sarah didn't quite know what to say or how to explain. "We were trying to find somebody - a friend of ours. The floorboards gave way. You shouted for me to stop but I didn't."
She almost apologized but thought it pointless given the fact Cameron didn't really know what had happened.
Pushing aside the guilt she was beginning to feel for their current predicament, Sarah stretched out her legs. She winced from the pain in her ribs and took a steadying breath. She felt hot now, and sticky. The day was warm, but being stuck down a hole with little air. . .well, it was a whole lot warmer. Licking her lips and tasting the salt from her own perspiration, she tried to clear her mind of all intrusions so she could think of a way out.
Cameron's eyes were once again on her – studying Sarah almost as they sat side by side.
"I. . ." Cameron began, but she faltered and looked away, a slight blush creeping over her cheeks.
Sarah tried not to wonder what Cameron was about to say – needing to focus on the problem at hand – but it was pointless trying when her stomach was on butterfly alert because of the adorable look on Cameron's face. The blushing was new, and kind of sweet.
"What were you gonna. . ?"
"Nothing," Cameron interrupted, doing her best not to look at Sarah again.
Sarah shook her head and frowned. It was a strange situation and she had no clue how to handle it. She'd only just learned to deal with Cameron being her normal self, and now she was stuck with her being. . .almost human. Very human in fact. It was unsettling, especially given the fact she'd been doing her best not to think of Cameron as human in any way at all. She had to keep it clear in her head that Cameron was a terminator. . .and not just a pretty girl who made her think thoughts she had a hard time ignoring.
"Tell me," Sarah pushed, knowing she should let it drop but unable to stop herself.
Cameron shifted a little so she was facing Sarah more, her small frame illuminated fully in the soft light. She was mesmerizing, even though her face had a smudge of dirt on it, and her clothes were now dusty and torn in places where the wooden floorboards had scraped against her on the way down.
"It's funny," Cameron began, "I don't remember who I am, or who you are. . .but there's something I feel. I mean, I guess I should be scared that I don't remember, but I feel safe with you."
She sounded worried but obviously not on the verge of panic about losing her memory. Sarah wondered exactly what she meant by 'feeling'. Cyborgs didn't feel as far as she knew. And what exactly was it that she felt? Sarah didn't know if it was a good idea for her to find out.
"You should rest, Cameron," she said softly, hoping to bring an end to the conversation.
Cameron looked down at her lap, her eyes showing a glint of sadness that silently startled Sarah. Cameron had always had a faint air of sadness to her - a look about her that was distant and a little lost – but it'd never revealed itself quite so clearly through her eyes before. It made Sarah want to reach out to her. It was so tempting. Sarah's fragile grip on her resolve slipped a few inches.
"Everything's gonna be ok," Sarah reassured.
She placed a gentle hand on Cameron's thigh, hoping to stem any fears or worry – even though she was beginning to worry herself about how they would get out.
They both stared at Sarah's hand as it remained on Cameron, the atmosphere suddenly growing expectant and tense. Sarah didn't know if Cameron had any clue about being a cyborg at this point, but for a moment. . .it was as if she'd never been one for both of them - never even heard of one.
"Sarah, are we more than. . ?"
Sarah flicked her eyes up to Cameron's and noted the hopeful look on her face. She didn't know what was about to be asked for sure, but part of her – in fact most of her – wasn't ready to know.
"Your leg is bleeding," Sarah interjected, just having noticed the red blood stain marring Cameron's pants at the bottom.
"Sit back, let me take a look," Sarah instructed, helping Cameron shuffle back against the wall again, and moving her hands to the bottom of her pants.
She gently rolled them up, noting that the blood loss didn't seem to be great at least. There was a nasty gash just above where her boot ended, though. A nasty gash that revealed a hint of blood tainted chrome.
Sarah's heart thudded loud in her chest at the sight. She still wasn't used to seeing what Cameron was really made of – the metal under the delicate skin. It made her chest tight and her palms damp. There was no mistaking what Cameron was when it was so clearly on display.
"What's wrong?" Cameron asked.
"Nothing, it's not bad, just a. . ."
Cameron bent down and nudged Sarah's hand away from the injury. "What's that?" she questioned shakily. "Why is it like that?"
Panic was beginning to rise within her as she stared down at her leg – metal gleaming through the blood. Sarah could see Cameron's hands beginning to shake where she was now holding up the material of her pants. She glanced up to find brown eyes full of unshed tears.
"Hey, it's ok," Sarah said encouragingly.
She placed a hand on Cameron's shoulder, imploring her with her eyes not to cry or panic, or do anything crazy. She didn't know what a terminator would do in a fit of emotion. It didn't bare thinking about.
"But it's. . .what am I?" Cameron asked.
Her full lower lip was quivering, silent tears beginning to drift from her eyes.
"You're. . ." Sarah paused, unable to find the words and not wanting to upset Cameron further. "You're gonna be ok. It's nothing to worry about, I promise."
Sarah tugged her jacket off and swiftly ripped the sleeve right off it. She tried not to hear the sniffles emanating from Cameron as she gently wrapped the now detached sleeve around the wound. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. It at least covered up the ugly shine of chrome that was making Cameron confused and upset.
"I don't feel right," Cameron said through her tears.
"I know, your memory is. . ."
"No, it's not that," Cameron sniffled. "I feel. . .strange."
Sarah was beginning to worry. An emotional terminator didn't sound like a pleasant prospect.
She settled beside Cameron once again after pushing her pants back over the now bandaged wound. Her brow was furrowed as she looked at Cameron, not knowing quite what to do next. She didn't like seeing tears running down Cameron's face, and not just because it was heart breaking seeing her so upset, but also because it clearly meant that Cameron was not just a machine. There was more to her. She felt. She had fears and emotions. It was buried under her programming, but now – with the memory of who she really was gone – it was allowed to spill out of her.
It made Sarah think all kinds of things. Good things. Bad things. Things she couldn't begin to cope with thinking.
"Don't cry," she said a little harshly.
Cameron wiped at her nose with her sleeve, tears still dripping down her cheeks. The atmosphere was heavy – stifling air clinging to them as Sarah fought with herself not to respond to Cameron's tears in the way she wanted to.
"Don't be sorry," Sarah sighed, rubbing at her brow. "It's not your fault."
It wasn't Cameron's fault. None of it. Not the fact she couldn't remember. Not the fact she was there with them. Not the fact she was a machine.
They sat silent, only the sound of Cameron sniffing making a noise in the depths of their own private hell. Sarah tried to ignore it. She hoped Cameron would stop. Hoped she could hide from the need it gave her to treat the girl as if she was human. She couldn't. She couldn't lose sight of what she was, and what she was there for. But it wasn't easy, and as she glanced to her left to Cameron, her body told her to help, to comfort. . .though her mind yelled a thousand times no at her.
"Come on, no more crying," Sarah said as gently as she could, her voice low and soft. "You're making the dirt on your face all streaky. It's not pretty."
She smiled and rubbed her thumb over Cameron's cheek, cleaning off a smudge of dirt.
Cameron took a steadying breath and smiled back at Sarah. Even though it was tear stained and sad, the smile was stunning because it was real. It wasn't being used as a way to fit in, or as a tool for Cameron to get her way. . .it was completely genuine, and completely beautiful. It took Sarah's breath away for a moment, and her hand lingered on Cameron's cheek.
It obviously gave Cameron some kind of green light because before Sarah realized what was happening, soft lips fell upon her own. She felt her insides burn and melt at the touch; every nerve tingling and rejoicing at finally receiving what she'd been doing her best not to think about since Cameron's arrival.
She tried not to kiss back, but for a moment – a heart stopping and mind numbing second – she stopped thinking and breathing. Closing her eyes, she moved her mouth slowly against Cameron's, sinking into the lushness of her lips and the hot scent of her skin as she dropped her hand to her slender shoulder. They were barely kissing at all, but it was sensual and intense. Cameron's lips were warm and full, completely intoxicating already. . .but it didn't take long for sense to come ripping into view and Sarah pulled back, her body on fire with the need to kiss Cameron fully, hungrily.
A tender smile situated itself on Cameron's lips as she held herself close to Sarah. She looked happy in that moment. She looked anything other than a terminator. But she was one. . .no matter what was going on right now, she was a killing machine.
"Cameron, we. . ." Sarah uttered, her tone husky and needy despite her resolve.
Though she wanted to say that they couldn't, that it was wrong, and that it could never be right. . .Sarah couldn't find the words; she was too busy watching Cameron's relaxed face as she laid her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes.
"I'm tired," Cameron said quietly.
Not knowing how to respond, and questioning whether terminators were supposed to even feel tried, Sarah just nodded. It wasn't long before Cameron fell asleep on her shoulder; a soft snore making Sarah smile despite her puzzlement. Since when did robots sleep? Sarah didn't have a clue. She obviously knew even less about Cameron than she'd originally thought.
Resting her head back against the wall that was only slightly cooler than the air around them, Sarah closed her own eyes. She had to think of a plan to get out of the situation they were in. She was aware that Derek and John knew where they were, but it would take them a while to find them. . .if and when they came looking; she didn't know if she trusted Derek yet. She also didn't know if she could wait that long. Sarah wasn't a fan of enclosed spaces, and Cameron was worrying her, not to mention making her think and feel things she'd worked so hard to ignore.
A heavy scowl creased her forehead and she breathed out a long breath from her nose as she lifted her fingers to her lips. Cameron had changed. Cameron had kissed her and she'd kissed back. Nothing was going to be the same again.