Try, Try Again
A/N:-Peeks out- Um, hi! Remember me? That T:SCC writer that dropped off the radar like a few years ago and left a fic completely unfinished? Well, I'm trying to get back into the T:SCC state of mind by writing this Jameron one-shot. So please give it a chance and let me know what you think—this could become a multi-chapter if the fan interest is there. The story takes place at the end of 2x09 "Complications": Cameron and John have returned from their search for Cromartie's body empty handed, but his protector hasn't quite forgotten her talk with John before Mexico and decides to make another attempt at getting Riley out of John's life.
I'm writing this under the supposition that John doesn't know Riley is from the future at that time, he's suspicious but he doesn't know. In my opinion he figures it out in 2x10 "Strange Things Happen at the One-Two Point," but it could be argued that he realizes sooner.
Fair warning people, this is a dark Jameron fic spiked with lemon.
Disclaimer:I don't own any part of T:SCC, it belongs to Fox—or whoever bought the rights to it—and Josh Friedman. I'm just playing around with the characters to content myself until we get a movie or something to finish the series.
Rating: Mature (language, discussion of attempted suicide, and sexual content)
Special Thanks: Mark Question—my lovely co-conspirator and sometimes inspiration (take a read of his fantastic fic "Glitch"). He helped with the edits of this monster and he's also the one that planted seeds of possible subsequent chapters to this one-shot in my head. Thanks so much, M! ;-}
Written While Under the Influence of:Marilyninsomniac's YouTube vid "John and Cameron Bad Things TSCC Summer Glau" (Song: Jace Everett-Bad Things), Elekta's YouTube vid "Love Lockdown John&Cameron—TSCC" (Song: Kanye West-Love Lockdown), Mudvayne-Happy?, Maroon 5-Misery, Marilyninsomniac's YouTube vid "Slept So Long Cameron/John (Sarah Connor Chronicles)" (Song: Jay Gordon-Slept So Long), Godsmack-Love-Hate-Sex-Pain, OneRepublic-Secrets, Skillet-Awake and Alive, Neurosonic-Fearless, Live-I Alone, Audio Bullys feat. Nancy Sinatra-Shot Me Down, Red-Pieces, Ben Harper-Amen Omen, Hurts-Blood, Tears and Gold, Lifehouse-Broken, Trading Yesterday-Shattered, Fine Young Cannibals-She Drives Me Crazy, Pop Evil-Monster You Made, The Kills-Future Starts Slow, Squeeze-Heaven Knows, Florence + the Machine-Cosmic Love, Trevor Jones-The Kiss, and Brad Fiedel-Conversation by the Window.
"If at first you don't succeed try, try, try again."
—William E. Hickson
Patience was something Cameron excelled at.
She could bide her time for days, months, even years if necessary to achieve her objective. But her patience with Riley Dawson was waning fast.
The blonde with the overdone bubblegum pink lips had managed to worm her way into not only her house and John's life, but now possibly even his bed. She held his hand, got him to laugh and smile—all things that made Cameron itch to follow the girl home one night, snap her neck and dump her body in the sewer or somewhere else equally appropriate. But the worst of it was that John had chosen Riley over her.
He avoided being around her as much as possible, had stopped talking to her unless it was absolutely necessary and there was a cold, bitter quality to his voice whenever he did speak to her now. And those changes in him coincided exactly with the blonde's first appearance.
Two nights ago Cameron had decided to finally act and diffuse the Riley problem.
Riley was a security risk. And while she wasn't a physical threat to John—he could easily overpower the smaller girl—Cameron wasn't blind to the growing distance Riley's presence facilitated between her and John. And that was dangerous to him, because if John didn't allow her to stay close to him she wouldn't be able to protect him.
Needless to say, the female Terminator was more than ready to neutralize this threat. Although she was unsure if neutral was the right word to describe her sentiments. Neutral would be a single, efficient 9mm round to the head or heart, killing the irritating blonde instantaneously.
But Cameron didn't want neutral or efficient.
She would much rather dispose of the girl with her bare hands. Just clamp her fingers around Riley's pale throat and watch the sea of broken blood vessels crop up around those powder blue irises as the life was crushed out of her. Solving 89.5% of her problems all in the few moments it'd take Riley to choke on death.
But she couldn't do that. John would disapprove, and that was the only thing stopping her from killing Riley.
So Cameron had employed a different tactic. She'd walked into his room and laid across his bed, showing him in no uncertain terms exactly what he had right in front of him and that he no longer needed Riley. A move John had countered by running away from her as fast and as far as he could the moment she left the room.
Not running, she corrected automatically. John didn't run, he just fell back to a more strategic position to resist her: Mexico. Alone with Riley.
Cameron felt her lips turn down at the thought of what might've transpired between them before she'd gotten there.
While unnecessarily reckless, it was also a typical John move. When cornered, John was at his most unpredictable and most dangerous. It was part of what made him such an exceptional general, he never attacked from the most obvious point, but it also made him exceptionally difficult for her to reason with.
She'd offered herself to him, in whatever capacity he wanted her—someone to talk to, hold his hand, kiss him, engage in sexual intercourse with—and he'd refused her, going instead to Riley.
His rejection ignited a sensation within Cameron that she'd never experienced before and didn't fully understand.
But then, her John had never turned away from her. She'd been his most trusted soldier and confidant. They'd spend hours together, planning their next move against Skynet and sometimes just talking. He'd tell her things no one else knew about him, like how his mother read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz to him every night before bed as a child, how he'd buried Sarah himself in an unmarked grave overlooking the ocean in San Dionisio del Mar after the cancer killed her, how there were nights—usually after he'd been drinking—when he thought seriously about sticking his pistol in his mouth and pulling the trigger.
Her John had never dismissed her in favor of another woman, although he'd never touched her outside of removing or replacing her CPU either.
She'd never had a doubt about her appeal before, but then she'd never needed to. Cameron didn't care how she looked unless it was pertinent to the mission. But then she'd been sent to a town in the New Mexico desert to protect a young John Connor. And he'd stared at her awestruck when she introduced herself, confirming that he found her physically attractive. Months later, he'd run completely unarmed toward a T-888 to try and rescue her—a machine. And most recently, had even put a loaded gun in her hand after she'd malfunctioned and attempted to kill him simply because he trusted her not to fire.
Cameron may've been a machine but she was a machine that knew John Connor had feelings for her.
She'd hoped those feelings would be enough to turn him away from Riley, but clearly they weren't. Instead, he continued to snap at her, like earlier today in the truck as they searched for Cromartie's body. She'd been trying to subtly—or as subtly as Cameron was capable of—let him know she was more than what he thought of her as. That she wasn't just a metal endoskeleton with a computer chip in its head allowing her to walk and talk, she felt and experienced things unlike any machine before her.
But instead of enticing him, her efforts seemed to have only pushed him further away. John had stared at her like he was contemplating jumping out of the moving vehicle the more she revealed about herself to him.
After they returned to the house, he'd spoken to Sarah, dropping the bombshell about Cromartie's missing body, then disappeared upstairs and into his room without a word to her. His mother, clearly not yet fully recovered from her recent illness, had gone back to bed leaving Cameron otherwise alone in the house.
She heard the shower upstairs start and immediately headed toward the staircase.
Cameron normally wouldn't perform the same action twice and expect a different result, but she'd seen the way John had looked at her that night. He'd at the very least thought about what she was offering him. And that meant her strategy wasn't a total failure. She just needed to be patient and try again.
The Terminator entered her bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind her, and strode soundlessly toward the bathroom attaching her room to John's. She made sure his door was also shut then turned back to the running shower, brown eyes fixed on the shadowed form standing on the other side of the plastic curtain.
John Connor was tired.
In the last three days he'd driven from SoCal to Mexico and back twice, gotten arrested and shot at, killed and buried Cromartie only to somehow lose his body, not to mention everything that'd happened with Cameron.
He still couldn't believe what she'd done. John halfway expected to realize any moment that it was just a very vivid dream he'd had. That Cameron hadn't really slid gracefully down onto the bed next to him, long legs bared by those shorts with that ridiculous pink and black polka-dot bra standing out beneath her thin tank top, gorgeous brown eyes staring unwaveringly into him as she all but said, "You realize you can fuck me, right? So what the hell do you need Riley for when I'm here?"
It'd taken every single ounce of restraint he possessed—along with a healthy dose of anger—not to simply say yes. To not roll on top of her and crush those perfect lips with his own then give her exactly what she wanted from him. How many times had he awoken painfully hard or embarrassingly wet because of her? How many times had he watched her prance around in nothing but a bra and panties like their house was the damn Playboy mansion? And yet there she'd been just giving him the green light all because of Riley.
Yes, John had known Riley was a risk and that no one in the house liked the idea of them dating, but did any of them give a damn what he thought half the time? No, so he'd stubbornly persisted in his relationship with Riley, although…he didn't actually like the girl. Yes, she was a cute stacked blonde and someone he could actually talk to without the constant specter of his destiny looming over the entire conversation, but John still didn't feel anything for her. Not really.
At first he'd done it for the novelty; it was like a free pass to be that cocky twelve-year-old again. A glimpse back to a time when things like Judgment Day and Terminators were merely the invention of his mother's addled brain and his biggest worry was not getting caught hacking into an ATM. With Riley John got to be the cool bad boy that had a girl chasing after him instead of that gawky sixteen-year-old expected to carry the fate of the entire human race on his shoulders.
Of course it helped that being with her really pissed off his mom.
But then he'd seen how Cameron reacted to Riley and he simply couldn't stop himself. For the first time since that moment when she'd been pinned between those two diesels and shouted the words that still haunted him, Cameron showed emotion. It was always fleeting and often hard to completely put into words, but when Riley was around John could clearly see that typical blank look of hers disappear, replaced with something at least resembling annoyance, anger, hurt, or—his favorite—jealousy.
He'd like to think she was jealous of the relationship itself, although that was highly doubtful. Cameron was probably just resentful he spent the majority of his time with Riley now instead of her. And her reaction was in reality just some deep-seeded Terminator guard dog instinct being triggered, not that she was actually hurt he and Riley were together.
But ever since two nights ago in his bedroom and earlier that day in the truck, John was beginning to have doubts. Her little speech about feeling "heat"—had Cameron known the double entendre of her words?—and having sensation, the capacity to prefer one song over another and enjoy how the wind felt on her skin, as well as understanding a random act of kindness…it was all slowly driving him nuts.
He scrubbed his hands hard over his face, grimacing at the gritty feel of caked on dirt still clinging to his skin from digging up Cromartie's grave.
John pulled his bedroom door shut and headed to the adjoining bathroom, stripping off his clothes along the way and leaving them in a haphazard trail on the floor. His wallet slipped out of his jeans' back pocket as they hit the bathroom tile, the corner of a foil-wrapped square peeking out of the worn leather. He rolled his eyes at the sight of the condom he'd bought before meeting up with Riley.
He hadn't intended for the trip to Mexico to even include sex—he'd really just wanted a day or two free of Cameron and his mom—but after the cyborg's little stunt in his bedroom, his plans changed. John had called the hotel in Dejalo and switched their reservation to the honeymoon suite then stopped in a convenience store and grabbed a handful of condoms before he lost his nerve.
Why shouldn't he have had sex with Riley? She obviously liked him and he didn't exactly hate her—as long as she wasn't being too nosy or outright accusing him of being a total mama's boy—so why not? He wouldn't have forced her of course, but John decided to see what she'd do if the option was on the table.
But when it came down to it, being all alone with Riley was a major turnoff. She started asking all these questions, trying to get into his head and that was the last thing he wanted. John already had one girl in his life fucking with his mind, he sure as hell didn't need another he didn't even like doing it too. And yet he'd begun stalling the non-talking portion of their trip long before that, like insisting on getting the Jacuzzi in their suite to work first. John had actually found himself hoping the problem was something he'd have to take his time fixing, and came very close to breaking the damn thing all over again just so he wouldn't have to follow through on taking his relationship with Riley to the next level.
He was grateful she'd ruined the moment instead, granted finally getting rid of some of his sexual frustration might've been a good thing, but did he really want to screw her just to get back at Cameron? Riley had hit the nail on the head about their trip being a revenge fantasy of his, but would he have really gone so far as to sleep with her in retaliation for Cameron's attempted seduction? That was too fucked up even for him, right?
Growling in frustration at his thoughts, John slid out of his boxers and stepped into the bathtub, twisting the shower taps and yanking the multicolored plastic curtain closed around him. The steaming water felt amazing as it flowed over his back, easing the knots from his muscles caused by spending hour after hour driving in the confined space of the truck all alone with Cameron. He'd scrubbed his skin clean and was reaching for the shampoo when he distinctly felt a hand slide over his shoulders.
John spun as quickly as he could without slipping on the slick porcelain of the bathtub, fist raised to pummel the holy-hell out of whoever had snuck into the shower behind him, only to come face to face with Cameron. She stood there, brown eyes fixed on his green ones, hand still outstretched from where she'd touched him. But he wasn't really focused on her hand, more so on the fact that she was completely naked and standing an arm's length away from him, also completely naked.
He choked on air, brain and mouth hopelessly out of sync as he fought to get enough oxygen in his lungs to speak.
"Cameron?! What the—what're you doing in here? And why the hell are you naked?!" John demanded hoarsely, knowing he should make at least an attempt to cover himself with his hands but what was the use? She'd seen everything before when they jumped across time and besides, she was a machine, nudity probably meant next to nothing to her. He pointedly shut out the part of his brain that was strangely excited by being nude in front of her.
"We need to talk, John." She stepped forward, the shower's spray misting across her upper body.
"Whatever it is, it can wait until we both have clothes on. Lots and lots of clothes," he snapped, keeping his eyes resolutely focused on her face and only her face. He'd be reduced to an inarticulate, pathetic staring mess if he let himself see how sexy she looked with beads of water clinging to the bare curves that'd starred in each and every one of his wet dreams for the last six months.
"No. It can't." Cameron moved until there was barely an inch left between them, so close John could feel the warmth radiating from her skin—he cursed himself as his body reacted to that.
"Okay," he hissed, leaning his face down as close to hers as he dared. If she wanted to play chicken, then he'd play. "What is it?"
"You need to stop seeing Riley," she answered, irritatingly unfazed by his proximity.
Here we go again, John thought, a harsh laugh tumbling from his lips. "Look, I get it. You don't approve, Mom doesn't approve, America doesn't freakin' approve," he retorted, green eyes flashing with anger, "but I'm not going to stop seeing her. Not for you."
"She almost got you killed in Mexico," Cameron shot back, long brown curls now plastered to her shoulders.
"Almost got me killed? Cromartie was there looking for me, not her."
"Because you went to Mexico with her. If you hadn't gone there with her he wouldn't have found you there."
"Yeah, and I'd have been dead hours before because he would've killed me here instead," John muttered, flicking his wet hair up and off his forehead to keep the water from sluicing into his eyes.
"No, I would've protected you," she argued, unblinking as water rolled down her face in a twisted mimicry of tears.
"Like you protected me after the explosion?" he bit out, unable to resist twisting that particular knife with her standing before him looking so vulnerable—so human.
For once Cameron seemed shocked into silence and inwardly he rejoiced, happy to have finally repaid her some of the pain she'd given him even if she couldn't feel that pain the same way he did.
"That wasn't me, John."
He could've sworn he saw hurt and sadness flicker across her face as she said those words. "Then who the hell was it?"
"Skynet. Their core programming reactivated because of the damage my chip sustained," Cameron explained, that blank mask he hated sliding back into place.
"And that's just magically disappeared now, huh?"
"No. It's still there. It's always still there." Beads of water trailed over her lips, drawing his gaze as he unconsciously licked his own.
"Then why don't you just kill me and get it over with already?" The words were out his mouth before John really even thought about it, a grim reminder of the day he'd pressed the muzzle of a gun under his own chin and squeezed the trigger, moving the barrel away at the last second so that he only got a small graze on his neck. He'd realized almost too late that he didn't want to die, not really. But apparently that death wish wasn't entirely gone.
Now wasn't the best time to realize that either, not after he'd essentially told Cameron to go ahead and kill him. Would his words trigger that core programming? But somewhere deep down John wondered, did he care? Did he want to keep living if this was what the rest of his life was going to be like? Shouldering his messianic destiny all the while pining after a machine that didn't know the meaning of love let alone possess the capacity to feel it, and supplanting his feelings for her with a girl he barely even liked?
"Because I don't want to," she replied like it was the simplest thing in the world. One plus one equals two, yellow and blue make green, Cameron doesn't want to kill John.
It was his turn to be stunned into silence. Was this another trick? Why else would she be saying everything he'd ever wanted to hear her say now of all times? While not as desperate a situation as him holding a screwdriver to her CPU port about to remove—and presumably destroy—her chip, she still wanted something from him: to stop seeing Riley. Was this how far she'd go to get it?
"You can't want anything. You're a machine," John muttered, rattling off the old standby like a good little soldier—wouldn't Sarah be proud—although his heart wasn't quite in it.
"I don't want to hurt you, John. And I don't want you to see Riley."
"Why? Why don't you want those things?" His pulse pounded so loud in his ears that he barely heard himself speak, but he held his breath to hear what she'd say back.
"I don't know why I don't want to hurt you..."
The breath whooshed out of his lungs and John felt what little hope he had left deflate with it.
"But I don't want you to see Riley because I don't like being replaced."
And suddenly he was buoyant—exactly how insane did it make him that hearing she actually cared how he felt about her trumped her having a clear reason not to kill him?
He stepped forward, not stopping until she had to crane her neck backward to hold his gaze. "Replaced how?" John asked almost desperately, knowing her answer had the potential to undo months of pain and anger or push them even further apart.
"You don't need her, John. You have me, you'll always have me," Cameron whispered, closing the gap between their bodies and pressing her lips tentatively but resolutely to his.
Despite the water covering every inch of his body, he burst into flames. Not literally, but close enough.
He didn't dare move as the soft contours of her perfect mouth gently prodded his—ignoring every instinct screaming at him to push her up against the slick tiles and devour her lips with his own—icy green eyes staring her down when she pulled away from his unresponsive mouth.
"What're you doing?" John demanded, voice thick.
She quirked her head to the side as if it was obvious. "Showing you that you don't need Riley."
"So what, you're gonna have sex with me just to get her away from me? To keep me 'safe?'" His lips twisted into an angry sneer.
"I'd do whatever it takes to keep you safe, John."
"Not this," he hissed. "I don't need you for that."
"But you want me for it," she countered bluntly.
And suddenly he was back in that horrible position from months ago of wanting to kiss her or kill her. He hated how easily she saw what was inside him and could just tear him open and leave him exposed for all the world to see when she didn't have to do the same. It wasn't fair that he only knew what she chose to tell him and nothing more.
His blood boiled with a potent mix of anger and lust as John fisted a hand in her wet hair and roughly jerked the cyborg to him, lips crashing into hers with unyielding, bruising force. Cameron responded all-too-easily, mouth opening to his tongue's assault and arms encircling his shoulders.
Her immediate compliance just enraged John further and he pulled her lower lip into his mouth, biting down hard on the pillow of flesh and releasing it only after the distinct tang of blood bloomed on his tongue.
"This is what you want?" he panted, body shaking with a mix of adrenaline and rising hysteria, eyes boring into hers as he drew back and held her at arm's length.
"I don't want Riley to take my place," she deadpanned, infuriatingly unaffected by his violence as a bead of dark red rolled unheeded over the curve of her lower lip.
"That's not what I asked. What do you want?"
She moved toward him again, angling her head up to kiss him but John tightened his grip on her shoulders to hold her in place, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that reminded him he couldn't truly restrain her unless she allowed him to—which was clearly what she was doing now. "Answer me!" he commanded, resisting the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled.
"I'm trying to show you," Cameron replied, brown gaze unwavering.
"Tell me what you want, damn it!" John could feel all semblance of rational thought slipping through his fingers, releasing every pent-up, ugly, angry emotion she'd spawned within him as his voice boomed unchecked through the small room. It'd be the worst scenario possible for Sarah to get curious about the noise and walk in on them like this, but he was too lost in the maddening haze of desire and rage to care.
"Let me show—"
"I said tell me! Tell me what the hell you want from me, Cameron!"
"I want to kill Riley for ever coming near you!" she shouted, something unidentifiable churning within those chocolate brown depths of hers.
John froze, mouth hanging open in disbelief as he stared at her. He knew Cameron didn't like Riley but he'd never thought she'd go that far to separate them. His blood ran cold as he pictured it: Riley, broken on the floor in a mess of flyaway blond hair and shining scarlet with Cameron standing over her, face emotionless. If that happened he wouldn't blame her, not really. It'd be all his fault.
His fault for pushing Cameron to that point. His fault for endangering an innocent girl just so he could one-up the cyborg in their sick little game of wills.
John barely registered it when she kept speaking.
"I want to choke her until her eyes explode with blood for holding your hand. I want to beat her head in with that helmet you bought her until her skull fractures for making you laugh. I want to utterly annihilate her for whatever she did with you in Mexico…" Her words trailed off as though she'd managed to regain control of herself.
But instead of filling him with fear and disgust, her words sent his mind into a tailspin—finally putting a name to what he'd been unable to identify in her eyes moments before.
"So you're jealous of Riley?" He couldn't help asking, he wanted to hear her say it.
"Jealous?" Cameron questioned, head quirking to the side in that adorable way she did whenever she didn't completely understand some human foible.
"You wish I were doing those things with you instead of her," John explained and for the first time in months didn't feel annoyed at having to do so.
There was a moment of heavy silence following his words where they just stared at each other, his chest heaving under the crushing weight of her mute stare. Her face twitched as she looked up at him, confusion and what he'd swear was fear flickering across her expression while she seemed to fight some great internal struggle.
Duty and desire warred within the machine's mind, temporarily suspending all other thoughts. Her left hand spasmed at her side, clenching and releasing without her notice or consent.
"Yes," Cameron finally replied in the softest voice he'd ever heard her use, the ghost of a smile quirking her lips.
Such an obscenely simple word, but it was enough to utterly destroy the last barriers existing between them. His chest felt like it was being crushed in a vise, but John barely noticed as realization dawned on him. Cameron was jealous not of him spending time with Riley, but of what he was doing with her. And that wasn't something that concerned a Terminator. That was the concern of a girl. A girl jealous and hurt because she thought she was losing him to someone else.
Cameron loved him.
He'd fought that idea tooth and nail for months now, all the while hoping in the depths of his soul that it was true. That her words that awful day had some tiny fragment of truth to them, and now John stood face to face with her saying as much in the only way she could, he was sure. He didn't care that her version of an "I love you" involved bloodshed or that he'd literally been born to purge her kind from the planet, all John cared about in that moment was that simple truth.
Cameron loved him.
And he loved her.
He'd always loved her. Right from that moment he'd seen her fall in Mr. Ferguson's chemistry class, chest riddled with bullet holes from where she'd stepped between him and Cromartie for the very first time. John had always thought that instantly falling in love with someone was a crock of shit, something only crappy Harlequin romance novels and horrible movies about sparkly vampires tried to sell to the naïve tweens and bored middle-aged women in society. But in that moment John Connor had fallen for Cameron Phillips and had been falling for her a little bit more ever since.
John had struggled against it the entire way, clawing for purchase on whatever precipice it was he was slipping down to try and slow his descent but to no avail. Every step he tried to take away from her only hurt them both and left them picking at the raw wounds they dealt each other just to feel close again.
It seemed like an eternity since she'd said the one word that changed everything between them but in reality only mere seconds had ticked by and he realized Cameron was staring up at him expectantly. He knew he could come up with something, some sappy phrase that any other girl would laugh at or see as a line but Cameron would accept as genuine and sacrosanct, but he didn't try. What happened now didn't need words.
John ran his hand gently beneath her hair, cupping the back of her neck as he urged Cameron forward and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. He could feel the swelling in her lower lip from where he'd bitten her before and he again pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, tongue laving repentantly over the wound as he lightly sucked off any pain he might've caused her. Not just now, but ever. John wanted to take back every harsh word and act from her and absorb it back into himself.
Because she was his. In a way he supposed she always had been. She'd been created to kill him, reborn as his protector and now stood in his arms in what seemed like both the most logical and clinically insane progression of their relationship.
If Cameron was capable of love then she was capable of hurt, something she'd shown him the past few months but he'd been too angry to see it. John would never make that same mistake again. Cameron wasn't human, but she wasn't just a machine either. She was something in between, a girl with hyperalloy metal rods and gears instead of bones and muscle, but also a soul. The flesh and metal Eve to his mortal Adam, forged not of his rib but the mere idea of him—destroyer of the cybernetic god of a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
Cameron was suddenly in motion, snapping him out of his thoughts as she pressed against him completely and almost knocked him right off his feet as her full weight hit him. He managed to stay upright and shifted them so that her back was against the bathroom tile, never taking his lips from hers. Her arms once again encircled his neck, fingers weaving into his short locks and tugging just hard enough to force a groan out of him.
John could swear he felt her lips quirk into a smile against his own at the sound but didn't want to pull away from her to see for himself. He trailed his hands down her slick back, knuckles skimming the cold tile as the pads of his fingers slid over warm, creamy skin down to her hips. He let his hands envelop her curves and tugged her flush against him.
God, she felt amazing in his arms. Every single inch of her previously forbidden body was in contact with his—long, graceful arms curled possessively around his neck; soft, wet mouth hungry against his own; firm breasts mashed to his chest; and he fought to suppress a hiss as her thighs brushed against his most sensitive part.
At that point John could no longer think, only act. His hand shot out and grasped her thigh, wrapping it around his hip and opening her legs to him as he stepped between them. She gasped into his mouth at the feeling of his erection pressing against her core and he pulled back enough to look into her eyes.
Something was churning in those chocolate orbs again but this time he knew exactly what it was: love and desire, for him. He almost asked her if she wanted to stop, but the words died on his tongue as her mouth attacked his, hot, slick and demanding.
Cameron could feel something building inside her, and truthfully had felt it for quite some time. The anomaly had been infinitesimal at first, just the slightest misfiring of her circuits whenever John was around—something she'd easily ignored. But then her chip had been damaged in the car bomb and it was like she was suddenly trying to hold back the weight of an ocean with her bare hands—not quite as easy to ignore. Much like the now daily command flashing across her HUD to terminate John Connor, only this anomaly couldn't simply be overridden.
Emotions she couldn't understand and barely control, flashes of memory that didn't—couldn't—belong to her, and occasional involuntary spasms in her limbs were quickly becoming the norm. The fractures that'd been punched into her on John's sixteenth birthday—literally and figuratively—were gaping ever larger under an onslaught of unusual thought and sensation, threatening to wash her completely away.
The anomaly had almost succeeded once before, when she'd reverted to the Allison Young persona and forgotten her purpose. If John hadn't found her she probably never would've remembered who she really was.
But he had. And Cameron had been clinging to him like a lifeline ever since. He was the only thing that held her together now but he was also the very thing tearing her apart. Every glance, every word...every touch, every kiss...his very presence shattered her mind and body into a million jagged pieces then drew those severed pieces back together. Over and over again.
She couldn't stop what she'd instigated between them, and truthfully didn't want to. Deep down she wanted to know where all this was coming from and John was the key, she was certain of it.
"John," Cameron whispered against his lips, arching her body into his, practically begging him to join their bodies.
He slipped a hand between her thighs, sliding a finger inside her—not sure what he expected to feel, just praying not to meet anything sharp or metallic—and finding only soft, warm muscles that clung to him tightly. John watched the sensation wash over her face, her mouth trembling around a sigh as hooded brown eyes stared at him. He would've teased her longer had she not reached out and yanked him to her by the nape of his neck, lips crashing into his insistently.
Lips curling into a grin, John reluctantly removed his finger and gently guided his erection into her core, a deep groan rumbling from his chest once he was completely inside her. He planted his hands on the tile on either side of her head, eyes clenched shut as he fought to control his baser instincts. Everything in him demanded that he plunge deeper and harder into the silken heat around him, but he held off. He didn't want to scare or hurt Cameron by pushing things too far too fast.
Brown eyes widened at the alien—yet somehow intensely familiar—feeling of having John inside her. The cyborg had never felt so...complete. Safe. And loved. Something deep inside her screamed for more, and when he stilled against her Cameron curled her thigh tighter around his hips, forcing him as deep as he could go. John growled into her hair, her own mouth falling open in a silent scream at the sensation.
He pulled back to meet her gaze and, watching her carefully, gave his own tentative roll of the hips, starting a slow, undulating rhythm that her body quickly picked up. Something in her already knew what to do, although she was certain she'd never done anything like this before but she didn't question it, just let her body move with his. Cameron's hands slid from his neck to grip his shoulders, giving her better leverage. John braced himself on his forearms against the tile and pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard at the pleasure flashing thorough him, blazing green eyes locked on hers. He brushed his lips against her open mouth, softly urging her to reciprocate. She kissed him back, gasping breaths she didn't need to take into his mouth as their tongues met.
She trailed her lips down his chin, the light rasp of stubble pleasantly scratching sensitized skin. Brown eyes landed on the barely-there burn at the corner of his jaw, immediately followed by her lips and tongue, laving over and gently sucking at the wound. John shuddered against her, groaning her name.
Her eyes fluttered shut, the vibrations resonating deep inside her and losing herself in the flood of sensation. Deceptively strong hands skimmed his back, feeling smooth skin instead of the familiar patchwork of burns and scars. Closed eyes scrunched tightly in confusion, she bucked her hips against his, urging him faster and harder. Cameron heard his harsh inhalation next to her ear as he complied, her head falling back against the tile with a crash they both ignored.
Her HUD wobbled and flickered like it had in the supermarket, followed by the distinct sensation of her circuits threatening to overload. She gripped his biceps tightly to anchor herself in the here and now, strong and wiry under her fingertips, not the corded muscular arms that'd held her night after night.
"John…" she moaned, arching against him as a sharp spike of pleasure rippled through her but the confusion still lingered, pressing against her consciousness like a physical weight.
He shifted her thigh higher around his waist on his next thrust and they both cried out at the incredible change. Their hips began moving frantically against each other, desperate for more.
"Cameron," John panted and something in his voice commanded her to open her eyes and look at him.
Chocolate brown irises met emerald ones and a gasp escaped her throat.
Those eyes…she knew those eyes. The rest of him might've changed, but his eyes never had. His face was younger, less lined and scarred and missing the ubiquitous few days' growth of beard; his body not yet the muscular, war-hardened one that she knew in every possible way; but this was undeniably him.
Her John, her love.
But just as quickly as the thought had hit, another followed it.
Cameron had never loved General Connor, and she'd certainly never had sex with him. So where were all these thoughts coming from?
Before she could linger on it much longer, John had captured her lips in a deep kiss, his left hand pinning hers to the wall, their fingers interweaving. Cameron focused on the kiss, although a part of her deflated at the sensation of his fingers, all bare, against hers, equally bare. Something belonged there and was missing. Something important…
Cameron curled her free arm around his shoulders, gasps and moans echoing between their mouths as the tension between them built to a crescendo. She felt his body go rigid against hers, every muscle winding unbearably tight, and then he collapsed against her, breathing hard into her neck. Every inch of her body tingled pleasantly and her fingertips trembled as she gently stroked his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Shadows gathered like thunderheads at the corners of her vision but she ignored them, refusing to let anything encroach on this moment.
"I love you, Cam." His voice was muffled against her skin, but she heard him perfectly.
She opened her mouth to respond when a sharp knock sounded on the bathroom door.
"John? Are you all right? You've been in there a long time." Sarah sounded equally concerned and suspicious through the wooden barrier—a combination she'd mastered long ago.
John's head snapped around in horror at the sound of his mother's voice, remembering that he hadn't locked that door. In all the ways he'd ever thought he might die, Sarah killing him for losing his virginity to a Terminator was not one of them. His mouth bobbed unintelligibly a moment, unable to find his voice.
"I'm fine, Mom," his own voice came from Cameron's mouth as she reached around him and turned off the shower. "I accidentally broke a tile and I was trying to fix it before I got out."
John gaped at her, thankful that she'd saved him but it was unimaginably creepy hearing his voice come from her lips now, especially while he was still inside her.
"Well don't use up all the hot water trying to fix a tile," she chastised, voice retreating with her footsteps down the hall.
Cameron disentangled their bodies and stepped out of the bathtub, grabbing a towel from the rack and wrapping it around her torso before collecting her clothes from the floor. John watched her dumbstruck, wondering how the hell she could even form a sentence after what'd just happened between them but also immensely thankful for that ever-present Terminator poise that allowed her to take any situation in stride.
"Cameron, uh…" he began, clearing his throat. "We should probably talk about what this means. Mom and Derek can never know, you understand that, right?"
She peered back at him over her shoulder, hair falling in dark tendrils over her shoulders, and all he wanted to do was yank that towel off and commit a cardinal Connor sin all over again.
Those perfect lips of hers turned up in a grin, one beautiful brown eye closing in a conspiratorial wink before she breezed from the room, the door to her bedroom clicking shut behind her.
He groaned and leaned back against the tile. Oh, dear God, was he hopelessly screwed. But why the hell couldn't he keep his own lips from quirking up into a matching grin?
Well, at least Sarah wouldn't have to worry about him using up the hot water, because John was pretty sure his future held only cold, cold showers if he wanted to live. And he most definitely wanted to live right now.
A/N: -peeks out- Well, is it safe? Was this good enough to make everyone not want to kill me? lol I hope you enjoyed my first attempt at a Jameron love scene—it's actually VERY difficult to write Cameron having sex with any real credibility—but I hope y'all liked it. This story does have a plot other than hooking John and Cam up, so if you want to see where things are going…review for me! Let me know if you want to see more! ;-}
Thanks for reading!