Owner	Pose
John Connor	John Connor spreads his arms, extending them to full length, stretching out his muscles. He brings them back, closing in on his face. His eyes were bloodshot. His coordination was off. He had several observable signs of sleep deprivation. But he had been hacking into systems, searching for video, looking for the endoskeletons that his mother had lost. The blue tint to the screen before him made him weary. And he let out a yawn, though did his best to mute it, not wanting to alert Sarah or Cameron to his plight. He had already salvaged some footage of someone pulling out an endoskeleton, but the camera quality was poor at best. It was from too far away, it was dark, and the man appeared to be wearing a mask, and dark clothes. Breathing out, he tilted his head backwards while sitting in his chair, and was surprised to feel a body against his hair?
Cameron	Should he open his eyes, he would find who that body was. Cameron was standing there. Just right there. Behind him. She had made no noise. She hadn't said a word. It was like he had his own personal stalker. In a sense, he did. But not in the negative way in this scenario. "You are working at eighty-nine percent optimization. You should be sleeping."
John Connor	It was a sign of how often Cameron snuck up on John that he didn't react by shaking, and rapidly pulling away, only to shout 'hey, don't do that to me'. He had, many times in the past. Now, he was just sort of used to her sneaking up on him. Much like Commissioner Gordon and some senior members of the G.C.P.D. had become used to Batman appearing or disappearing at random. Instead, his head remained where it was, back hair brushed against her torso, he couldn't quite see her with the angle of his eyes, but knew she was there. He deadpanned, "Eighty-nine huh? I thought it was closer ninety-one." He listened carefully, trying to figure out whether his mother had snuck up on him too.
Cameron	"You are more tired than you realized," Cameron said matter of factly. In essence, he made her point for her. "Were you succesful?" That let him know she hadn't been standing there very long. She hadn't taken in the images on the screen to be able to tell what was or wasn't happening. Her attention had been on him, checking his status, realizing he needed rest.
Sarah Connor	Midnight - Sarah was awake, and nervous. she washed the dishes to calm her nerves. All for naught. One thirty - she made John a sachwich, and a hot chocolate. To no avail. he didn't touch the sandwich, and the hot chocolate grew cold. Two-fifty nine - she rubbed at her head, willing this headache to go away. Took some aspirin, and put her head down on the sofa for 'just a minute'.. Three fourteen - everything is quiet. Someone turned off the main lights in the living room. She thanks them.. at least she thinks she did.. Four o'three - she was dead to the world.
John Connor	John leaned his head forward, and stroked the keyboard and mouse, pulling up some footage that he had downloaded from one of the hacked cameras. It showed from a significant distance a 6'3" male, approximately 225 lb, wearing black Puma sneakers, dark blue Levi jeans, and an unmarked black jacket, pull an endoskeleton out of a dumpster, and drag it to a black 2029 Hyundai Santa Fe. The license plate was covered by what looked to be a garbage bag stretched over it. He put it in the back. There seemed to be a blue and black CleverMade box in the back, and a black ice scraper with pink bristles. He wore a mask, but was of European heritage, and appeared to have dark eyes. "It's not much to go on, but that's what I got. I'm still looking."
Cameron	As he ran the footage, all the data was being recorded by the processor that passed for Cameron's brain. The details about the person, his height, build, exact mapping of the eyes to match later should she see the person again. Well hopefully. They weren't that perfect for matching unless someone had distinctive lines around them and the images were not quite that precise. Still, it was far more than they had. It made sense it was picked up. Since she hadn't found it at the dump. And she had spent quite some time there. Then showered. About ten times. "Can you access the DMV records for any matches to the 2029 Hyundai Santa Fe, black in color? Actually make it all of them in this area, in case it was recently painted, but black ones top of list."
John Connor	"Already did. Limiting it to the 22 Hyundai Dealerships in the Tri-State Area, 2,303 2029 Santa Fe's have been sold of various editions and colors. 459 of them were black. It seems to be the most popular color this year." He looked so tired. But he pointed to a stack of papers next to the sandwich, he had yet to touch, though he did reach for the once upon a time hot chocolate, sipping the cold beverage. There were lists of addresses, names, and contact information. "Now, if they repainted, or got it from further afield, even harder to track down. We don't even know that it's a Connecticut license plate."
Cameron	At the explanation, Cameron picked up the first page off the stack of papers and scanned the data provided. Then she set the page back in place, looking at the stack. "Between that and the private sales records through the DMV, we have quite the list. Unfortunate we are unable to narrow the search further with the data available." She frowned slightly, a very human-like expression when she often kept her face neutral around the family. "This will take quite some time to research them all. Perhaps when you analyze the second location, we might get more. If it is the same person that took both chasis."
John Connor	Cameron confused him. He knew she was a machine, he had seen exposed hydraulics and endoskeleton from when she was shot at, or otherwise harmed. And yet, there were times that she seemed all too real. Her frown for instance. Machines shouldn't frown, show emotion like that. "I've been working from the center out. Looking for the closest cameras that I can gain access to, moving out in a circular fashion. The further out, the worse the quality will be, but sight lines are funny like that. Sometimes you can get something from far away, like the footage of the Santa Fe." He yawned again.
Cameron	"You have done enough for now. This is more than we had. Considering the time that has passed, a few hours while you rest will be a neglible delay," Cameron said. She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder lightly, giving a squeeze. It was something she had seen Derek do at times when being encouraging to the younger man. Thus it made sense in her processor. "We can start working on the list today while you sleep. When you get up, you can start the dumpster behind Mel's."
John Connor	The hand was comforting. Though when Derek did it, it was that of an uncle caring for his nephew, Cameron was something different. He liked it, but he shouldn't. As with everything else, he was confused when it came to Cameron. His body instinctively leaned into the squeeze. He even let out a soft murmur of pleasure. His body reacted. "All right," and he turned off his computer screen, but leaving the computer running. He was out of any system right now, so there was no concern about being tracked. Getting up, he moved to his bed, lying on top of the covers. He didn't seem to care. He was so tired. Though he did ask one thing as he lay there, "Cameron, would you tell me about future John?" He loved hearing stories, and she seemed to have so many.
Cameron	As he settled in, Cameron had remained where she was standing. Her attention was on the stack of papers for a moment, as though she was wanting to get started immediately. But first, he needed to be safe. Which generally meant in bed asleep. At the request, she considered a moment then moved to sit on the side of the bed, one leg tucked up so she could face him. "You know I am limited on what I can tell. Was there something specific?"
John Connor	John had an annoying habit of staying up past his bed time; especially on a school night. Not that his mother cared that much about his education. It was good that he got one, but he already knew more than most of his classmates, and he kind of had one specific job in his future, a job he had been prepared for since birth. He looked at Cameron as she made herself comfortable, and that thought ran across his mind. Was it because it was comfortable, or did she do it because she thought it was what a human would do. He could go insane thinking about these things. Thankfully, he was too tired for such deep thoughts. Asking questions about the future, knowing she had to hold certain things back, "what does future John do to relax," he was going to say after a tough day, but they were probably all tough.
Cameron	This had come up a few times. It was a common question for this John to ask. In a way, it made sense. He was worried about his future. The task set before him. The burden having the fate of humanity in his hands. But right now, he was just a young man trying to make it through life. "He liked to read. Sometimes would listen to music. The world was so loud. So terrifying. Moments of peace were what held the appeal for him. We would sit and talk sometimes for hours. About nothing. About everything. Just so he could have that quiet time away from his responsibilities."
John Connor	She knew so much about his future self. And he spent so much time with her, present John, and future John, it would seem. He nodded as he lay there, on the bed. One leg brushed against her as she sat on the side, just making contact through two sets of clothes, as he was still fully dressed and on top of his bed, despite trying to go to sleep. His thoughts turned to that day, when they had her trapped between two vehicles, and she had mentioned, after her chip malfunctioned, that she loved him, and he loved her. He had never asked her about that day. But he had thought about it often and wondered. "So, you're like my shrink, in the future?"
Cameron	That got a smile. A brief one as she shook her head. "I am your friend. Not your psychiatrist. Those are few and far between in the future." As are most every occupation, if one was honest about it. Humans weren't needed for most tasks. "We talk. Some of your people to not like that you spend time with me instead of them. I think you do it for a reason."
John Connor	He liked her smile, even if it was a brief one. She had smiled at him the first time he met her, back when he thought she was just a fellow high school student named Cameron. Although her ultimate response rang a few alarm bells in his head. He had gotten the impression, but had yet to learn the intricate details. "Why do you think I do it? Future John does it, I mean." He quickly corrected.
Cameron	"Do you really want to have me answer? It is my theory, not truth. Hearing a theory might sway you to that when it would not be your actual choice." Cameron was up suddenly, moving away to the table and looking at the stack of papers again. She picked them up and rifled through them absently. "I do not think I should tell you. You need to be you because of your own choices. Not because of things I tell you."
John Connor	"I think I'm mature enough to make my own decisions. Besides, unless Future John has memories of you from when he was a teenager, we've already swayed things pretty severely." He paused, shifting to look at his open doorway, just being careful that his mother wasn't there, then laid back on the bed, shifting a little. When he shifted, he created more space, though she chose that moment to get up. Watching her rifle through the papers, and say her piece, "I'm no expert on time travel, but there are only two possibilities. Either everything we do now, say now, think now, is the past of Future John, or it's not, and I get to make my own fate. I want to know. If you can tell me." He had his own theory.
Cameron	Cameron looked at him. There was that neutrality he was used to. Nothing given away. No emotions. Then she drew in air and let it out in a sigh as she set the papers back on the desk. A couple of steps and she was back sitting on the edge of the bed. "I believe it is two reasons. First, I am a machine. You have had other machines that have helped you in the past." Uncle Bob as he had been nicknamed. "So long as our programming remains intact, we are here for you. No matter what. We won't grow old. We won't change. We will always be here to help you. That is reassuring for you in some ways. To have that one constant in a world that has not been since before your birth."
John Connor	For a machine, Cameron was all too human. She drew in air, letting it out as a sigh. She had smiled at him earlier. She had given him an encouraging touch of his shoulder. It was these little things. Could Skynet have programmed them in, or was it what she learned through exposure to humans? She was so much more advanced than Uncle Bob. Before he even met her, she was a better infiltrator. He had to teach Uncle Bob, but he liked her from the moment he met her. He smiled back at her when she sat on the edge of his bed. He wasn't even aware that he had done it. It was pure instinct. "That makes sense." He nodded his head, thinking it over. He had not missed the second, which had so far gone unspoken. Instead, he only looked to her, curiously.
Cameron	"The second ties in with the first, in some ways," Cameron continued when he had made it obvious that he wasn't going to accept the original answer. She wasn't surprised. He wasn't one to typically let things go. He would want to know every detail. "Machines won't die. And if a machine dies, it is just a machine. It isn't a human. A person. It is easier than to let people close and lose them in combat. Future John does have friends but they are few. When one dies, it hurts him. Sometime I have seen."
John Connor	This too made sense, but he couldn't help have a strange feeling that she was holding back. "I get that way of thinking. Machines are disposable, humans are not." The way he said it, the tone, the body language he was displaying, none of it would suggest that he ascribed to that way of thinking. He seemed to let it hang there, not going any further. "I want to think this out loud, and please wait until I've gone through it, before explaining to me why I'm way off on this. But when we get right down to it, humans are nothing but a collection of neurons, impulses, we're biological computers, creating new pathways, developing, learning, and becoming unique. A young child has unique genetic code, but hasn't learned that much to set them apart from any other kid." "Computers, most of them, don't learn. They perform a task. Sometimes really complex ones. But Skynet is an A.I. It learns, it adapts, and it changes, right? Terminators are machines when in read-only mode, but when they're switched to learn, like you are, they create new pathways, algorithms, and data, changing personality, responses, and becoming unique individuals. So, I guess what I'm wondering is, when does a learning Terminator become as alive and unique as any human who is formed by their knowledge and experiences? Maybe I'm wrong, it is pretty late. And for the record, it'd hurt me if you died."
Cameron	"That's always been the question," Cameron answers him. "When does a computer move beyond computer and become sentient. I do not know the answer. I do not have any explanation of how SkyNet became more than just a machine." She had not expected him to reach that point. Future John had expressed the same things to her. About how they were more alike than different perhaps. "I am what I am programmed to be. I have learned more than I had known originally. I have thoughts. Or I believe I do. But I am a machine. Though based on a human so that modifies things yet again." She gave a small shrug. Then focused again on him. "You should not become too attached to me. There is a danger of that, due to your age and hormonal status. I am a machine and I will be destroyed before I allow you to be killed. That is my purpose. You cannot grieve if I perform it."
John Connor	Cameron had hobbies. She left the house. He wasn't sure what she did, but he made for damn sure his mother didn't know about her excursions. She was more human than Uncle Bob had ever been, and was becoming more human every day, you just had to know how to spot the changes. "Have you read Descartes, because if he was right, that's the ball game." She has thoughts. She believes that she thinks. Unless of course that phrase was something that her chip computed as something she should say to him. From what he knew of the way their chips worked, that wasn't it. He believed her. And then he blushed when she said he shouldn't become too attached to her because of his age and hormonal status. Like he had never had that thought cross his mind. He looked down, but that meant looking at her as she sat on the bed, then he looked up, facing the embarrassment head on. It was the best way to deal with it. "Then I'll have to do my best to make sure you never have to perform that task."