riders in the sky | anklebones

act 3

Three days.

Three days of missed orders, malfunctioning electronics and morgues.

Vaughn looked down at the dead man on the table. Perkins was his name if he remembered right, but he looked less like one of his men and more like his failure. Casualties had been low overall, but nearly half of the men he had sent out looking for the Connors would be out of action for a month or more. Broken ribs, arms, legs, internal injuries, soft tissue damage... the rash of accidents caused by malfunctioning traffic lights had been as effective at weakening his own personal army as a bomb thrown into close quarters.

The city was baffled by the traffic glitches.

Vaughn, however, was furious.

He knew he had the right area, but he couldn't search it without C.A.I.N. interfering. If the Connors were even still there. The A.I. wasn't exactly being subtle in his efforts to protect them. But if they knew they were being shielded... Vaughn gestured for the technician to cover the body and turned on his heel, disgusted with the whole bloody mess. Knowing or not, Connor was out of his reach for the moment. His resources were extensive, but ultimately limited. He couldn't afford to keep sending men to the hospital, not without some kind of results to show for it.

Stalking down the hallway, Vaughn cursed the woman who had cost him countless hours, finances and several good officers, but his rage was cut off abruptly by an eerily familiar sound... A whir and a click, so quiet that he would have missed it if he hadn't heard it before, stopped him in his tracks.

Refusing to look back, Vaughn forced himself to continue, hating the nervous sweat that broke out on his skin until he reached the doors and the bright Californian sunshine.

At the limit of its turn radius, the security camera watched him go, the red light above the lens blinking thoughtfully.

*****

Sarah needed a distraction.

The walls were creeping inwards, shuffling forward inch by inch, making the house feel even smaller and more crowded than it already was. She might have been able to cope with the claustrophobia, but there was only so long she could watch John and Danny write code before she would have welcomed an attack, any attack, just to relieve the boredom.

Spending time with Savannah might have helped, but right now the child was gardening with Terissa, and Sarah didn't want to make the same mistakes with her that she had with John. He'd needed to go to the future to find out who he was without her, she didn't want anything nearly so dramatic for Savannah.

She watched them from the porch for a few minutes while she savored her morning coffee. Terissa had found tools, gloves and hats in the shed, and she and Savannah were already elbow deep in dirt as they pulled what looked like a year's worth of weeds out from around overgrown perennials.

The child looked happy enough, and her never ending stream of questions sounded like the cheerful burble of any reasonably well-adjusted child, but Sarah had felt the tremors that wracked her small body at night. Three days since the scare at the mall, and Savannah was still insisting on spending every night tucked between her aunts.

Cameron seemed content with the arrangement, but while Sarah wasn't about to traumatize the child by insisting that Savannah go back to sleeping in her own room, it was making things with Cameron a little... complicated.

She sighed down at the bottom of her coffee cup, and it stared unhelpfully back up at her. Ceramic wasn't notoriously good at solving relationship problems. Bottles of whisky were better, once the whisky was out of them. Remembering the last time she had given into the urge to drink, and the rather favorable results, Sarah felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. She let the memory play a little longer, until her body began to respond with its own personal flavor of restlessness...

Damnit, Sarah swore and banished the images, pleasant as they were. Disgusted with herself, she tried to turn her thoughts to C.A.I.N., reminding herself that they were trying to stop the end of the world here. This was hardly the time to be sighing over a lack of alone time with her cybernetic girlfriend. Still... they had a plan. Was it too much to ask for an hour or two of privacy as well? If C.A.I.N. had had a neck, Sarah would have throttled it. If it weren't for the damned A.I. she could have sent the whole household out to the movies. That is, if Cameron would let Savannah out of her sight.

Which begged the question, where was Cameron?

There were a limited number of places for a terminator to hide on the property, and the presence of the van in the driveway precluded vehicular escape, so Sarah went looking for Cameron first in the house, and when that turned up nothing but the aforementioned boys on computers and James reading his way through the entire available library, she checked the shed.

It was almost dark; the windows were small and dirty, letting in only fitful snatches of sunlight, and Cameron hadn't bothered to switch on the lights. Probably an effort to discourage company, Sarah mused.

The atmosphere was made closer by the familiar scent of gun oil, and Cameron didn't look up when Sarah came in, her hands never stilling on the barrel of the rifle she was cleaning. In Sarah's current state it was too damned easy to imagine what else those hands could be doing, and whatever rationalization she might have given herself for seeking Cameron out, Sarah had forgotten it before the door latched behind her.

A neatly laid assortment of guns covered the workbench in front of Cameron, each one as carefully placed as if the shed was a display for curious buyers, and amusement surfaced briefly in a tide of frustration. "Those have been cleaned already," Sarah pointed out, leaning back against the doorjamb, her fingers plucking nervously at her coffee mug.

Cameron paused, and then continued. "I know," she said. "But I needed... space." Now she looked at Sarah, and her eyes, nearly black in the gloom, looked almost hunted. "From them," she added.

Taking that as permission to stay, Sarah nodded her agreement. "You're not the only one, girlie."

Cameron offered the hint of a conspiratorial smile before going back to her work, and Sarah felt it right down to her boots. It was damned near embarrassing, the effect Cameron had on her, but there was no one else there to see her, so she gave herself permission to just shut up and enjoy it.

They didn't need to talk. The silence settled out long and comfortably between them, like a cat stretching in a patch of sun. Sarah stayed by the door but her eyes followed Cameron's every move, wandering up from her hands and lingering on muscular shoulders bared by the brevity of a tank top, then dipping lower. She felt her body responding again, and this time she didn't fight it, knowing Cameron would be able to detect the change and wondering what the machine would do about it.

Cameron didn't disappoint.

C.A.I.N., Kaliba, Skynet, the whole damned uncertain future, it all faded into the background when Cameron left the workbench. Wiping her hands clean on a rag, she deliberately took away Sarah's mug and set it on a shelf before reaching past her to shoot the bolt home on a lock that gleamed against the weathered wood of the door.

"That looks new," Sarah observed, trying for nonchalance.

Cameron discarded the rag and moved in to slide her hands around Sarah's hips. She tugged Sarah off the wall, pulling her closer and nuzzling under her hair to her jaw. "It is," she breathed into Sarah's ear before tightening her grip and spinning them around. Wrapping an arm around Sarah's waist, she shoved the neatly ordered guns aside in a clatter of metal and lifted Sarah onto the workbench.

The casual show of strength might have frightened Sarah a few months ago, but right now it only added fuel to a fire that had been banked for far too long. Remembering another day, another bench, and a terminator she had been confessing her secrets to even then, Sarah wrapped her legs around Cameron's waist and pulled the machine closer, ducking her head for a kiss that made the world go up in flames.

They were hurried, almost frenzied, knowing that they might be interrupted at any moment. Only the knowledge that they were going to have to emerge at some point, more or less put together, and not looking to the casual eye like they'd just snatched a quick fuck in the face of chaos, kept them from tearing each other's clothes off in their haste.

Making a mental note to never, ever wash the shed's windows, Sarah gave herself up to oblivion. Cameron's hands and mouth were everywhere she could reach and Sarah made no effort to reign in her own. Deft fingers teased open buttons, tugged at zippers, and pushed inconvenient fabric out of the way. Sarah lost track of whose pleasure was whose, retaining only the presence of mind to smother any sound, either against Cameron's skin or into her mouth.

It hadn't even been a week, but it felt like a year.

Lost, it took Sarah a minute to realize Cameron had stilled. Feeling almost drugged by the endorphins running like liquid fire through her veins, she struggled to focus on the machine's profile, turned to face the door.

There was nothing, and then Sarah heard the faint sound of a voice calling her name.

John.

Cameron was frowning. She began to pull away, but Sarah quickly laced her fingers behind her head, forcing Cameron's gaze back and down towards her. "Is there danger?" she demanded, revising the question to "Immediate danger?" when Cameron hesitated.

"No," Cameron admitted.

"Then don't stop."

"But-"

Sarah silenced her with a kiss, tightening her knees against the machine's hips. Cameron resisted for no more than a second before melting against Sarah and picking up where they had left off. Guilt went the way of everything but the taste of Cameron in her mouth and the feel of her beneath her fingertips.

Sarah would be responsible. She'd find John and apologize. She'd do whatever she needed to do to take C.A.I.N. down and save her family.

Later.

*****

John slouched back into the house and through the kitchen to the den that had become his and Danny's center of operations. Dropping into his chair, he scowled at the computer that had been the sole focus of his attention for the last three days, and indulged himself in a moment of petty resentment. It wasn't fair. He and Danny were stuck in here, writing the program that was supposed to save them all, and his mother couldn't even be bothered to talk to him when he had some progress to report.

"If Sarah doesn't want to be found, then she probably needs some space," Terissa had said, intercepting him before he could search the yard. "The close quarters are wearing on all of us. Sarah will turn up when she's ready..." The woman had been too damned quietly reasonable to argue with, all the while presenting an impenetrable wall. John had ended up retreating, feeling like a chastised child, guilty, of all things, for wanting to talk to his mother.

He hadn't seen Cameron either, and John felt hot jealousy stir under his breastbone. He'd thought he'd set the childish emotion aside, but his conversation with Cameron at the park had revived it. James had said he trusted Cameron with Sarah's life above any other. Cameron had given her own blood to keep Sarah alive, she had risked the apocalypse... and Sarah had allowed it, even seemed to welcome the machine's concern.

There was an easiness between them, a silent communication that John would never had thought his mother would share with a machine. Somehow, implausible as it seemed, they had found a way to be friends while he was gone. As if without him, they had finally been able to see that they were fighting for the same thing.

A year ago, John would have been thrilled to see them getting along.

It wasn't that he didn't want his mother to have supports other than himself... being all she had was a big part of what had driven him crazy as a kid. He was glad she had a friend, he was glad for both of them, but he wished it didn't feel quite so much like they were humoring him.

John shook his head, reining in the insecure ramblings of an exhausted mind. He was just tired and frustrated. His mother loved him. She was supporting him as a leader. He was back, and he wasn't going to let her wear herself out trying to protect him and save the world by herself anymore. If Cameron wanted to help, that was great. Everything would be fine. He'd make sure of that.

This program would make sure of that. It would make sure of a lot of things.

It had been Cameron's idea, but John and Danny were writing it. She had her own part to play, refusing to let anyone else make the necessary adjustments to her utility program. She'd insisted it was too complex, but John suspected she simply didn't want anyone looking that closely at the ghost of herself she had left in the system.

He would have understood if it had been just Danny she had excluded, John glanced sideways at Terissa's son, completely absorbed in his work. He was still an outsider, following along with the air of a convict being led to the noose. He did his share, but John didn't trust him, and he suspected Cameron didn't either. But John thought their conversation in the park had healed some of the rift between him and the machine. It stung that she was still holding him at a distance.

John knew he had treated Cameron badly in those first few days after he had come back, but he was so used to Cameron not feeling, not reacting, that it hadn't really occurred to him to consider her feelings. He'd resented her for who she wasn't, and felt threatened by what she was... Really, it was no wonder she'd assumed he was the same child she had sent away. John rubbed at his aching temples. With all the best intentions, he was still screwing up. Maybe it was time he tried to earn back a little of the trust he'd discarded. From Cameron and his mother...

Danny finally seemed to notice that he was the only one working. Pulling off his headphones, he took one look at John's expression and offered to go on a coffee run.

John shook his head. "Any more caffeine and my hands will be shaking too badly to type."

"Time for a break?" Danny sounded hopeful, but it was the hope for reprieve of a condemned man and John's instincts, as worn out as the rest of him, twitched and stirred.

"The sooner we get this done, the sooner we'll all get the chance for a break," he pointed out, reaching for his own headphones, but something in Danny's eyes stopped him. "What?"

"Nothing," Danny lied quickly, turning back to his computer, but he could feel John watching him.

They were all watching him, when they thought he wasn't looking, watching to see if he could be trusted. The machine was the worst; she seemed to know whenever he'd received a message from C.A.I.N., turning up out of nowhere to stare through him with eyes that said you are expendable...

Only his mother wanted him there. Even the kid had shot him a few doubtful glances when he tried to make conversation. But Danny would prove himself. He was already helping John with the program. They needed his knowledge of C.A.I.N.'s code to make it work. Only he knew how to use the backdoors Kaliba had left in the A.I. Cameron probably could have figured it out, but Connor wouldn't let her go back into the system, not for that. Not when they already had all the information they needed in Danny.

If he gave it to them.

The program wouldn't exactly hurt C.A.I.N.... and during the day, Danny felt committed to the project. This was the only avenue open to him for redemption. But at night... C.A.I.N. was frightening and alien, but he was also the closest thing Danny had to a friend. At first the A.I. had pushed for information about Sarah, Cameron and their location, but he seemed to have realized that Danny was nervous about anything that might actually force him to choose sides, and he'd backed off the last few nights.

Now they just talked. Sometimes Danny felt like C.A.I.N. was the only one who did talk to him. The A.I. was curious about Cameron's position in the household, but of course he would be. There was nothing sinister in that, though it did make Danny uneasy when C.A.I.N. referred to her as his sister. Cameron was like him, but instead of being a target, she was... well, Danny didn't know what she was, but he didn't share the A.I.'s fascination. He just wanted her to leave him alone.

"Any progress?" Cameron's arrival nearly made Danny fall out of his chair.

She waited until he'd regained his balance, staring at him blandly all the while, and while Danny balked at ascribing an emotional response to a machine, he couldn't shake the impression she seemed almost pleased by his discomfiture, and the beads of fear sweat he could feel forming on his brow. C.A.I.N. couldn't help but be frightening no matter how much he tried to put Danny at ease. Danny suspected Cameron could have convinced him she was harmless if she'd wanted to. She was frightening on purpose.

John noticed both Danny's reaction and Cameron's satisfaction and put the observations aside to mull over later.

"Some," he admitted, taking in Cameron's slightly rumpled appearance with annoyance. While they'd been working, she'd probably been outside in the sun playing tag with Savannah again. "Have you seen Mom? I need to go over the decoy with her."

"She's in the shower." Cameron cut him off without apology, direct, but distracted somehow, as if her mind was somewhere else. "Is it urgent?"

"I've found a possible location." John brought up an image on the screen, feeling his shoulders tighten when Cameron stepped up behind him to look. Resentment, attraction, plain old fear... he wasn't sure what she made him feel anymore, but it was definitely uncomfortable. "From the shipping records it looks like someone is trying to build a server farm, but I can't find anything about who actually owns the building-"

Cameron didn't wait for him to finish, turning on her heel with a promise of, "I'll get Sarah," and then she was gone again.

"Does she mean now?" Danny asked, wide-eyed.

Guessing that Danny was imagining Cameron dragging his mother directly out of the shower, John laughed. "She has a little more tact than that." He paused. "I think."

If anything, Danny looked more worried.

"Don't worry," John told him. "We'll hear the gunfire if I'm wrong."

*****

"I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folk are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed..."

Sarah lingered in the hallway outside of her bedroom, finding a moment of calm in the sound of Cameron's voice as she read Savannah to sleep. It must have soothed Savannah as well, because after a few minutes Cameron trailed off, and Sarah looked around the door to see the girl's eyes slide shut. She waited for the usual shake and frantic blinking, already hearing the familiar protest, One more page! But this time Savannah was really asleep, and Cameron was able to close the book and extricate herself, settling the girl down on the pillow without waking her.

"You're on the second book, already," Sarah whispered.

Cameron laid The Marvelous Land of Oz aside. "It's been taking longer and longer to get her to sleep."

"I know." Sarah's guts clenched against the slow burn of anger at the A.I. keeping them penned up. Savannah's nightmares were getting worse, and they were rapidly running out of ways to distract her. As the day crept closer when they would put the plan in motion, the tension levels were rising, and there was no question that the child felt it. She joined Cameron on the bed, brushing Savannah's hair back from her face, relieved to see peace in her quiet features instead of fear.

"Maybe John was right..." Sarah's soul rebelled at the thought of sending Savannah away, but she couldn't bear to watch the light inside of the little girl go out.

"No." Cameron's denial was definite, even angry. She tilted Sarah's chin up with gentle but insistent fingers. "She is ours, and we will keep her safe. The program is almost ready." Her voice was a fierce whisper.

Ours... There was no mistaking the possessiveness in Cameron's tone, or her meaning. Sarah had accepted her own maternal feelings towards Savannah, and it seemed Cameron had done the same. A feeling of rightness warred with parental terror. Were they ready for this? Could they raise a child and save the world at the same time? Did she want to?

"What if it doesn't work?" Sarah asked, not sure if she meant the program or the parenthood. She watched Cameron closely, wondering what kind of mother Cameron would make. Wondering if she could avoid the same mistakes she'd made with John.

"It will work." Cameron's tone allowed no room for argument, on either subject.

Sarah nodded, reaching up to take her hand and wind their fingers together. Cameron glanced towards the door, but allowed herself to be tugged forward. She was still tense, but Sarah ignored it, needing Cameron's solidity to ground her. Only Cameron made hope seem like an option instead of a fallacy. She was truly one of Baum's 'unusual people'. Heedless of the risk, Sarah laid her head on Cameron's shoulder and let the contact and Cameron's scent block out everything else.

Cameron let her have a few minutes of peace, softening once she was sure Sarah wasn't going to suggest sending Savannah away again. But they only had so much time. "C.A.I.N. spoke to Danny again last night," she said finally, feeling Sarah stiffen as she ran a hand through her hair and sat back.

Sarah let her go reluctantly. "Do you still think we can trust him?"

"I think he will not take any action that threatens his mother," Cameron said after a moment. "He has avoided offering information that would allow C.A.I.N. to find us. There are fail-safe's that would prevent anything sensitive from being transmitted, but they haven't been triggered. I believe he is simply lonely."

Sarah was feeling a lot less generous. "He hasn't told us about it," she pointed out. They'd argued briefly about that when Cameron had told Sarah about Danny's nightly contact with the A.I., Cameron preferring to wait and see what Danny did while the utility program monitored him, and Sarah wanting to stop it completely.

"He doesn't want to believe his father's work is evil." Cameron looked down at Savannah and Sarah wondered if she was thinking of John Henry, another child of Miles' work and Savannah's friend. Cameron had gambled John's safety in the future on the conviction that John Henry was not the seed of Skynet. Did Danny feel the same way about C.A.I.N.? "But I think he will not betray us, not while Terissa is here."

"Hell of a thing to base a plan on," Sarah muttered, but she let it go, following Cameron's gaze. "I can't stand what we're doing to her," she said softly, tucking the blankets more securely around Savannah. "She already has nightmares. What will she be like five years from now? Ten? Twenty? Is she going to hate us for making this her life?" Sarah asked bitterly. "I wish there was some way to know we're making the right choice. I wish I knew if we were doing this for her or for us."

Cameron's utter silence made Sarah glance up. For just a moment the machine looked stricken, but it was gone so quickly that Sarah wasn't sure what she had seen.

"I should patrol," Cameron said abruptly, standing up from the bed. "You need to sleep."

Sarah frowned, confused by Cameron's reaction. She wondered if her fears had somehow upset the terminator. "Cameron..."

"Goodnight, Sarah," Cameron murmured, heading toward the door, her gait stiffer than normal.

Sarah followed, disturbed by Cameron's upset. "I need to talk to John," Sarah murmured. She hesitated, looking into Cameron's intentionally blank features with growing unease. "You'll come back later?" she asked carefully.

Cameron's gaze searched her features for a long, uncertain moment. "When the others are asleep," she finally allowed. She was almost out the door when Sarah gripped her arm and urged her to turn, using her other hand to reach past Cameron and push the door shut.

Opening her mouth to protest, Cameron went still and silent as Sarah laid a finger over her lips, tracing them softly before replacing them with her mouth. For a moment, the fears and worries evaporated, and Cameron welcomed the jolt to her systems and the heat of Sarah's touch.

The kiss was slow and languorous, and Sarah tried to fill it with all of her regret over the secret they still had to keep. She had had her fill of secrets.

"It won't be this way forever," she vowed before she let Cameron go. She meant it, even though she wasn't sure how and when the day they wouldn't have to hide their relationship would come. She hadn't put a lot of thought into their future, other than knowing she wanted one. Eventually they would have to talk about it. Eventually John would have to be told. But not tonight.

Tonight she just wanted to sleep with her lover's arms around her to keep the nightmares away.

*****

The clock read a little past two. Sierra sighed at the numbers, turning her gaze away from the burning red that reminded her a little too much of staring into the eyes of the enemy. The beach house was quiet, only the sounds of the ocean and the soft whir of the ceiling fan to keep her company. Felicia was no doubt asleep in the other bedroom. At least Sierra hoped she was. The doctor had been tireless in her efforts to break Sierra's fever and to get the growing infection around her gunshot wound under control. The antibiotics seemed to finally be working, and Sierra sat up weakly, throwing the blankets off her now-sweating body.

Getting unsteadily to her feet, she moved through the small house until she came to Felicia's bedroom. Surefooted and silent, Sierra stole closer until she could retrieve the cell phone on the nightstand. Felicia didn't stir. She wasn't the woman she would become, Sierra knew. For now, Felicia was simply a doctor, but Sierra remembered the warrior she had come to know. She missed her.

She missed them all.

Sighing, she padded back into her room, opening the deck doors and stepping outside before shutting them behind her. The ocean breeze felt like heaven on her overheated skin, and she walked barefoot to the lone chair and sank into it.

The phone was cool in her hands as she rubbed her thumb across its surface. She knew it was best to let the world sleep, even if her mind refused her the same kindness. Hours and hours spent remembering those last few moments in the future when everything had gone to hell still plagued her. Derek and Kyle dead... weapons fire everywhere. Weaver. John Henry. Allison screaming as the world tipped and whisked away.

Sierra swallowed, annoyed by the scratchiness in her throat. Finally she dialed, waiting through one ring and then two. When she heard Cameron's voice on the other end of the line, the voices in her head went quiet and her soul steadied. She entered the code, hearing Cameron do the same.

"Is Sierra all right?" Cameron demanded.

"It's me," Sierra told her. "Felicia is sleeping."

There was a moment's pause. "You should be resting."

Sierra's lips quirked at the scolding. "Gonna spank me, mom?" she teased faintly.

There was a soft sniffing sound of disapproval from Cameron followed by a door creaking on its hinges and closing softly. When Cameron spoke again, she sounded more muffled, like she'd just stepped inside somewhere. "How are you feeling?"

"Raw," Sierra admitted. "I hate being sick."

"You're like Sarah that way," Cameron murmured. "You're pushing yourself before you're well. If you would take the time to heal..."

"I'm sitting on the deck, Cameron, not running a marathon," Sierra chided. "I'd forgotten how overprotective you could be," she added but there was a smile in her voice. It felt so damn good to hear her mother's voice. It healed her in ways no medicine ever could. "Everyone else asleep?"

"Yes," Cameron's voice was softer. "I'm on patrol."

"John... fitting back in okay?" He wasn't who she really wanted to ask about, but she was still curious.

"It's been hard... for everyone," Cameron confessed. "But he's trying. Especially with you."

"With me?" Sierra asked in confusion.

"He's trying to be your older brother."

The thought made Sierra's head feel like it was going to explode. "Are you kidding me?" she spluttered.

"He takes you for ice cream. He got you a kitten."

"A kitten?" Her voice rose another octave.

"Walther. After Sarah's favorite gun manufacturer."

Sierra blinked only to burst out laughing. It managed to both hurt like hell and feel wonderful at the same time. "Walther, huh?"

"You're very attached," Cameron continued, but Sierra could hear the delight in her voice.

"Me and the kitten or me and John?" Sierra asked dubiously.

"You and the kitten. You're making John work for it."

Sierra chuckled again, pleased with her younger self in this timeline. "Wish I could see that," she said wistfully.

"So do I."

The humor fled as quickly as it had come. Sierra gripped the phone tighter. "I miss you. I've missed you..." She swallowed, feeling the burn on the back of her throat once more. "I miss Sarah."

"I can have her there in an hour," Cameron promised.

"No. No," Sierra whispered. "That... it's not a good idea and we both know it."

There was a long stretch of silence where they simply listened to one another breathe.

"Can I ask you something?" Cameron finally inquired.

"Of course."

"Did we..." Cameron paused, clearly trying to collect her thoughts. "Did you ever wish..."

"No," Sierra said emphatically, guessing how the question was going to end. "If you're going to ask me if I ever wished that you'd given me up... or if I regretted any of my life... no. No, mom."

"You're just a child here... now." Cameron continued. "I don't want to do this to you."

Tears collected in the corners of Sierra's eyes but she stubbornly didn't let them fall. "Don't ever think that. And don't ever let Sarah think that."

"Savannah..."

"Listen to me," Sierra insisted. "I loved you. Both of you. You were my parents. You made sure I knew I was loved... cared for... and you damn well made sure I survived. Both of you died saving me," she choked out, the tears slipping free now. "Please, don't ever think I don't want the life that little girl is living now. She's going to get scared, and she's going to crave a normal life sometimes... but I swear to you, I would not trade you and Sarah for anyone else," she promised fiercely.

There was another long pause, filled with the dull roar of the waves and the sound of crickets on the end of the line.

"I bought you pink tennis shoes with skulls on them the other day," Cameron stated simply.

It all came back in a vivid rush. All the little things Cameron had done for her over the years to let her know she was loved and cherished. In that moment, Sierra missed her mother so much it hurt. This Cameron wasn't her, not yet, but she was getting there. "Skulls, huh?" she asked with a smile through her tears.

"She will have the childhood you remember," Cameron told her, suddenly serious once more. "But I hope her future will better."

"I know," Sierra whispered. "Now tell me more about John trying to be my big brother..."

*****

Sierra had a beautiful laugh.

The thought stayed with Cameron as she made her final rounds. Hearing the adult version of her daughter laugh felt like a gift, one she hadn't known she wanted but was thankful to receive. She wished Sarah could hear it, knowing that the sound would have set everyone of her lover's fears to rest. Savannah had grown into an admirable young woman; one Cameron had been pleased to acquaint herself with over the last three hours. There was a distinction between them now... between the child asleep in Sarah's bed and the woman she would become. They were as separate to her now as their names, but both the present and future versions of her child were cherished.

Now the sun was slowly rising and her phone was nearly dead. Cameron felt a pang of guilt for not returning to Sarah last night, but she would find a plausible excuse for her absence. Sarah wouldn't be upset about that for long, Cameron knew, since she would be giving Sarah a whole slew of new things to be mad about before the day was done.

She checked every entrance once more when she was inside, testing the security perimeter both physically and through her utility program. Everything was secure.

Even John and Danny were asleep, so there was no online activity for her to monitor. She reviewed the work they had done on the program to buy some time, and found it flawless. The plan should work. She hadn't lied to Sarah about that. She just hadn't told her everything about it.

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