"Wait. How familiar?"
Who: Jim, Sarah and later Cameron What: Jim and Sarah on a date, and then Cameron is waiting up for Sarah to return When: Several weeks ago, probably a couple of nights after Cameron hooked up with Jim Where: Sushi bar/grille, later the Connor residence Status: Complete Rating: PG-13 for flirting and waxing philosophical
It was 7pm on a Wednesday night, and Sarah Connor was standing outside a sushi restaurant. She'd made an effort to make her usually messy hair a bit more nice looking, slicking it back with some barrettes, and had even applied some makeup. Sarah liked to think of it more like shellac, though.
All of the foundation in the world wasn't covering the wrinkles. Dates made Sarah uncomfortable. She never knew what to expect and was never sure why anyone wanted one with her. She tugged on the bottom of her blouse and then tucked her hands behind her back, standing 'at ease'.
It had been 10 years, but sometimes, Sarah still acted like a soldier.
Especially a man ten years her younger, give or take. Jim drove up to the sushi place in a car that was older than Sarah, and parked. He got out, wearing a pair of black slacks and a matching black shirt. Black tended to work well in general and he didn't want to dress up too much, for just sushi.
He gave her a smile, and walked over. He'd half expected her not to show, "Hey there, Sarah."
Black was a good thing to wear. Sarah had dressed similarly - boots, black jeans, a black blouse. Even the belt she'd worn as decoration was black. She tilted her head to the side a bit and smiled at the guy as he walked over.
She'd almost chickened out, and Cameron had been the one to talk her into this. She still wasn't sure what she was doing here, "Hey there, Jim."
He grabbed the door for her, pulling it open. He tended to do that for just about anyone though. It was the polite thing to do, "You look great. I see we have the same closet."
It was the gentlemanly thing to do, though Sarah was the type of woman who could get the door herself. Still, she allowed it, flashing him a grin as she walked past him, "Gotta love those discount 'all the black clothing must go' sales."
"You hit that one, too? It's always just after Halloween. The all orange all the time sale never really does as well."
He checked her out as she passed, then followed. They were led to a room with a big grill in the middle.
The joke made Sarah laugh. The guy was much younger than her, but he was funny and charming as hell. It's probably how she'd ended up being talked into this to begin with.
Sarah had heard of this type of eating but had never really gotten a chance to try it, herself. She peered at the grill curiously as she took a seat, "Well, Orange never really was a good color on me."
"Blue. Maybe pink," Jim said, looking her over. "No, blue. Definitely blue." Pink seemed too girly a color for Sarah Connor.
"The cooler colors. Now the best part of this is we get to watch the chef cook it right in front of us. There's fancy knife tricks and fire."
Ironically, half of the waitress uniforms she'd worn in her life were pink. It was a color Sarah was intimately familiar with, though because of that she hardly ever wore it in her day to day life.
Thankfully, the waitress position she'd interviewed for would be a more formal thing. No pink there.
She leaned back in her chair a bit and grinned, "We'll have to wait until after Easter for the blue. Post Easter 'everything pastel never sold' sale. I'm kind of excited now. Knife tricks and fire, you really know how to impress a girl. We might even get to see the EMT's show up."
"As long as I don't lose any fingers. I need those fingers. I'll be sure to use you as a shield," Jim replied, leaning on the table a bit and giving her a cheeky grin.
"You're such a gentleman, look at you. I'd probably take the pain better anyway, stitch myself up with some of their kitchen wire, and get right back to eating dinner with you, so that works for me." Sarah winked at him.
"Bad assed. I like bad assed. Bet you could beat up a cougar," Jim replied, as the chef came out to start the show, and the smell of grilling meat filled the room. It made Jim's mouth water.
"Jaguar." Sarah smirked. The grilling meat DID smell good, and the show was pretty impressive so far. She casually rolled up her left sleeve and indicated a puncture wound, then rolled it back down.
Jim eyed the scar, then let his eyes drift up to Sarah's face. She had the kind of face and posture of someone who had seen too much in her life, and he wondered at her story.
"Jaguar, huh? I'd show you mine but I'd have to take my shirt off."
"That was just one of its claws. I'd show you the teeth marks but I'd have to take my pants off. I'm still not sure you get to see me take my pants off," Sarah side-eyed him with a bit of a squint. Her expression was slightly flirty and somewhat smug.
"We can work on that," He retorted, as he speared a piece of meat to bring it to his plate. She was feisty, and intelligent, which was always a good thing with him.
"Tell me more about this jaguar."
Sarah speared her own piece of meat and started cutting it into chunks on her plate, while trying to decide how much of the story was really date-friendly for the telling. He probably already knew she was old enough to have children.
Anyway if they got much further than a date he was going to find that out really quickly. She shrugged, "Me and my adoptive daughter were hiking out in the jungle. She hadn't learned how to move silently, and I was about 9 months pregnant. The thing had probably been hunting us for a while before it struck. I tossed myself over her - It protected the baby too - as the thing clawed into my arm and then latched its teeth into my leg."
She paused to squint over at him again, "Are you sure you want to hear this story while we're eating?"
"Damn," he replied, cutting up his own meat as respect went ++. "What were you doing in the jungle? Kids make it out okay?"
"If you ask Cameron to repeat the tale she'll probably give you some kind of line about how she had the worst of it," Sarah joked, grinning a bit at the mention of both the kid and the long-suffering way in which the two often went on about the event.
"I pulled my shotgun and shot the thing in the head a few times. It was actually a shame, the beast was gorgeous. I had a rough time for a while afterwards, but yeah. Both kids are marginally okay. One of them rolls his eyes whenever we go on about it and the other one is possibly traumatized for life, but we survived."
She elected not to answer why it was they'd been down there. Too much information was never a good thing. Instead, she decided to dig into her food. Which was delicious enough for her to make a very pleased noise about it.
"I'm sure she would," Jim replied, smirking a bit. Little did he know that her Cameron was the Cameron he'd danced with the other night. If by dance you mean slept with.
"You're what they call BAMF," He added, his smirk turning into a grin. He noticed that she hadn't fully answered the question, but he let it go. He had his own secrets after all.
She shook her head and grinned, while spearing another piece of meat for herself, "I just did what was necessary to survive, that's all. I wasn't going to let her get eaten, and she learned very quickly after that how to be silent."
Jim nodded his head, "I was camping with some friends. A couple of them got drunk and loudly walked around one night. Attracted a cougar. I stayed behind while they headed home, wanting to stay another night. That's when the thing decided I'd make a good lunch. I'm lucky it was just a young one."
Sarah raised an eyebrow at that, seemingly impressed, "How did you handle it? That probably left behind some manly scars."
“I stitched myself up, then had a doctor friend make sure they were nice and pretty and not going to get infected,” He replied, then stuffed some meat in his mouth.
"Never trust anyone else's stitches."
It was funny how alike they seemed to be. The grin never left her face, even while she worked on her own meal. Which was delicious. She grabbed up some vegetables to go with it, while allowing herself to daydream a bit about how things might have gone differently if she'd been younger when she'd met this Jim Kirk.
Then she remembered how great she was at making relationships last longer than a day and a half, chewed her bottom lip a bit, and looked around for a waitress. A beer or two was probably safe.
"Want to try the sake?" Jim asked, after the waitress had come over. It wasn't something he got to drink all that often, himself. It seemed like a good night for it.
"Yes," She answered, without hesitation. Then she lifted her beer with a smirk and toasted him with it. Because she was still going to drink the beer, even if Sake was coming.
She could always take the bus home.
Jim's kind of woman, really. He toasted her with the Sake and then downed his, before pouring a bit more. He wanted some more food in his stomach before he had any more, though.
There was a Sake toast, and then more beer, and then more meat, and then finishing of aforementioned beer, before Sarah poured herself more Sake, "So. How often do you really use going to the Moon to pick up chicks? I'd hate to know I fell for a line you use every day."
"Depends on the woman," He replied, pointing his fork in her general direction. "Brains are sexy, and someone with brains can appreciate the Moon and what it means."
"James Kirk, I think you've underestimated me," Sarah laughed, and shook her head, "I'm a waitress. There's nothing brainy or special about that. Maybe I just like the moon. It's glowy and keeps the sky company at night."
She picked up her refilled sake bowl, toasted him again, and downed it.
He smiled, toasting her back and downing his sake as well, "Keeps the sky company at night, huh? That sounds pretty philosophical."
She ducked her head as she poured them both another round, "The sky is lonely. Especially out in the desert at night. The stars are far away, they can't really touch it. The moon is its closest friend."
"Yeah. I can see that. They talk about reaching for the stars, but you never can. Not really. Not without something that could actually take us there. But the Moon is close, and it keeps the sky company."
Jim liked that. He liked it a lot.
"And apparently I'm talking to one of few men who've actually visited the place, so I should be appropriately impressed," She added, with another grin and another toast. The Sake was very good, though she was pretty sure 3 was her limit. From what she'd heard, the stuff was powerful.
"I'm hoping to get to Mars by this time next year," He replied, grinning at her and even winking a little. "Maybe I'll do a little toast once I'm there. It's not as lonely as the sky I think. All those rovers."
"What kind of person would you be if all you had for company your entire life was a bunch of machines?" Sarah wondered aloud. She watched the chef juggle his knives and start grilling up a fresh set of meat, and decided to spear one more piece.
"I think that depends on the kind of machines," He replied, thinking of a friend. "Knew a guy who'd be buried up to his armpits in car or an engine and wouldn't come up for air. I think it might make one a bit insular."
"When I was in high school I loved things like fixing cars and motors. We had a robotics course in tech ed. It was pretty fun trying to figure out how to program the arm to swing around and grab things. Made you think in steps. But that was..." Sarah laughed, "Well it's ancient history now, anyway. I could understand liking them that much. Machines don't talk back. They don't leave you, and if you keep them up they don't die. Mostly."
"There is that. Unless they go nuts and take over the world," Jim replied, laughing. "But then, you just pull the plug and you win."
if only they knew
Sarah raised her eyebrows a bit and clucked her tongue against the side of her cheek, "Well, if that day ever comes, I hope someone makes sure pulling a plug is all we need to do. Because otherwise that could get really interesting."
Jim glanced at her, studying her as he took a drink of water, "There's always a way to win, Sarah. Just need to know where to look."
"Or you just keep attacking the problem with something until it gets tired of your persistence, gives up, and starts crying," Sarah offered, with a tilt of her head.
“Machines don’t cry,” He pointed out, oblivious as to just how messed up this conversation might be. “They just run out of oil.”
"I don't know about that, I'm pretty sure I've made my son's computer cry a few times while trying to surf the internet. And then there was that incident with the laptop. And the coffeemaker..." Sarah laughed, "I would have failed my major in college. Maybe it's better that things happened the way they did."
"The coffee maker? Is it the devil coffee maker from satan or do you just have the electronics death touch? Remind me to keep you away from my entertainment center."
"I'm just better with machinery that isn't as delicate," Sarah shrugged, "I can reassemble an assault rifle in 20 seconds, but if you asked me to put together a computer I'd probably just laugh at you. And that's a good idea. You really don't want me anywhere near your entertainment center. John sets all of that up. It's just better for everyone that way."
Jim grinned, imagining her field stripping an assault rifle. She may have been naked in his imaginations, "John? That your son?"
The grin Sarah gave him in response was probably the warmest one she'd given him all night, and she nodded, "Yes. He's amazing with electronics. Which is good. Most of the time."
She darted her eyes to the side and the grin turned a bit self-deprecating, "But this is turning into the worst date conversation ever, right? Maybe I should get the bill."
Maybe it was okay to have a fourth bowl of Sake. She went ahead and poured the last of it, then knocked it back.
"We could go back to talking about the sky," Jim replied, leaning back in his chair and admiring her. It was hard to not like Sarah Connor. She had charm, "Or maybe something else."
She leaned back in her own chair and reclined a bit, resting her arm across part of the back of the seat she was sitting in, "That car you drove up in is a classic. I've always wanted to take a drive in one of those."
A grin flashed across Jim's face. That car had been the best accident that had happened to him, "I'm afraid you're a little too tipsy to get behind the wheel, but I can give you a ride."
Sarah squinted at him and tilted her head back, "I'll own up to the tipsy, but only because I respect you. We share a common bond, you and I, we were both mauled by big cats."
It was a joke, which she at least thought was funny, since she laughed a bit as she was getting up out of her chair.
-
It was nearly four A.M. and Cameron couldn't sleep. That wasn't unusual for her. She usually only needed four or five hours of sleep on a good day. What was unusual was that Sarah still wasn't home. The house was too quiet, but she didn't want to wake John by playing her Cello. So she curled up on the couch with a sketch pad and waited for Sarah to come home.
Cameron wasn't waiting very long before headlights shone through the front living room windows, heralding the return of Sarah. She was through the door moments later. Her hair, which had previously been slicked back like she wore to work was down and disheveled, barrettes attached to her shirt. Which was also a little disheveled.
Even her belt wasn't completely buckled on. Sarah couldn't be assed with caring, because no one was supposed to see her coming home. But she should have expected that Cameron would be up when she walked through the door and into the living room.
Cameron looked up from her drawing, and then tilted her head. A slight blush crept up her cheeks as she asked, "Did you have a good time with your date?"
Sarah darted her eyes to the side and tucked some hair behind her ear, "That's really none of your business... what are you doing in the living room? Couldn't sleep again?"
She made her way through the living room and tossed her wallet on a table as she went, stretching her arms a bit. Her hips had a kind of sway to them that probably hadn't been seen in several months. Really, Sarah wasn't counting.
And she was trying very hard not to hum, or whistle. That would just really give everything away.
"It's too quiet," Cameron explained, watching Sarah move around the room. She hadn't seen her like this since Charlie. She wasn't sure how she felt about that - she thought that Sarah's feelings for Charlie had been a big reason why they'd moved again.
She let a smile dance over her lips, "You were safe? I don't want to change diapers again."
Questions like this were why Sarah was hoping that no one would be up when she got home. She turned in the doorway between kitchen and living room and leaned against the doorframe, giving Cameron a look that was somewhat hard to decipher.
Her mind went through all the ways she could answer that, and she finally just settled on shaking her head in amusement.
"No diapers."
"Good." Cameron replied. When Sarah had been dealing with infection and hallucinations, she had been a four year old helping to change John's diapers. Everything else about the incident was traumatic, but the only thing that bothered her when she was awake was that. The rest of it tended to crop up occasionally when she slept.
"Was he nice?"
The only good that had come out of the situation had been John. Sarah didn't like to think about it too much either, beyond the funny retelling of the part where there was a Jaguar on her leg and she shot the thing.
Mainly, because the only thing that had kept her alive between the time it had happened and Enrique had found them was the fact that the hallucinations had been filled with images of Kyle Reese verbally guiding her along.
He was dead. Everyone knew that. He had just been what she'd needed to see to make it through. But it was still a most unpleasant memory. She shook her head to clear it out, in fact, and looked away a bit, face stony and eyes gleaming around the edges, "Yes, he was real nice. Been to the moon. Pretty philosophical. Bright man."
"The Moon?" Cameron asked, with just a teensy bit of worry creeping into her voice. It couldn't possibly be the same man, "Are you sure he had been?"
Sarah let out a breath and raised her eyebrows, "Pretty sure. It might have something to do with the fact that I have a moon rock in my pocket."
She squinted at Cameron, "Why do you sound worried? Is there some police report out on creepy stalker moon men?"
“No, he just sounds familiar.” She closed her sketch book and got to her feet.
"Wait. How familiar?" There was a feeling of dread starting to creep into the pit of Sarah's stomach. She just had that sinking suspicion that she was 3 seconds away from having to pinch the bridge of her nose.
“It’s probably nothing,” Cameron replied. She didn’t want to think about that.
"It's not nothing. You're acting odd."
Sarah threw a hand up and added, "Odder than usual."
Cameron rolled her eyes. She had to ask, “Did he have a Captain’s chair in his living room?”
Son of a bitch.
There went Sarah's hand, up to the bridge of her nose, where she firmly pinched it, before leaning forward a bit. Mainly to tell herself not to suddenly feel as nauseated by this entire idea as she was.
Because yes, he had a Captain's Chair in his living room, and no, she did not want to have to think about the implications of this.
Alarmed, Cameron’s hand went to her mouth, and she felt her insides twist, “We can never tell John about this. We’d never live it down.”
Sarah's voice was raspy as she answered, "Let us never speak of this again."