TSCC Oneshot: Today Never Happened Before
Jan. 7th, 2010 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jesterladyficTitle: Today Never Happened Before
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Cameron
Summary: Cameron tells John about the case she solved with Eric. A conversation ensues, books, pancakes, and Sarkissian are discussed.
Disclaimer: I don't own TSCC. The title is from a song by Switchfoot
Today Never Happened Before
“I am a detective,” she announced from the doorway to his room. “A private eye, dick, gumshoe.”
Sudden visions of her in a trench coat danced in his head and he shook it to clear them.
“You’ve been reading the dictionary again.”
“It is a very useful tool. I assimilate better with its help.”
“Cameron, reading something and understanding it are two different things.”
“But how can I understand it if I do not first read it?” she asked innocently.
He laughed.
“You have me there. Come in here.” She moved three steps until she was officially in his room and then waited for more instructions. “No, in here. Sit down. Stop being so metal. Tell me why you’re a detective.”
“I solved a case.”
She moved gracefully to his bed and sat down on the edge. He scooted up the headboard so he could see her better.
“And how did you do that?”
“I followed the clues. I had help.”
“Your very own Watson,” he supplied.
“You are implying that I own a fictional character.”
“No,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m saying that just as the fictional Holmes had Watson to help him, you had someone to help you.”
“I understand. Yes, I had someone. But he is not like Watson.”
“He?” John questioned, suddenly feeling queer in the stomach region.
“Eric. He is my friend.”
“You have a friend?”
“Is that not allowed?”
“Mom would say no.” He stopped to think about it. “But do you think that you having a friend conflicts with your mission?”
“Eric is part of my mission. He helps me learn things so that I may know the world in which I must protect you.”
“Does he know about you?”
“No. Sometimes this is hard.”
“I’ll bet,” he said. “I can only imagine how Eric must really be attracted to you to ignore everything else.”
“Everything else?”
Cameron’s eyes moved directly to his and he suddenly felt uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Like what?”
He inwardly swore. How hard did it have to be to have a conversation with her? He couldn’t even apologize.
“Nothing.”
“I know what you meant,” she said, offering him a sly smile.
Her smiles were incredibly rare, whenever they happened he felt amazing. In awe, like that time when she’d been messed up and someone else and playing foosball. A realization of a dream and nightmare at the same time.
“I’ll stop treating you like someone who doesn’t know anything,” he said, patting the bed next to him. “Move over, I want to show you something.”
She moved closer so that they were sitting side by side, arms casually touching. He grabbed a notebook from under his bed and held it out to her.
“What is it?” she asked, like a child.
“It’s a list. Of all the books I think you should read instead of the dictionary. And if something doesn’t make sense to you, you can ask me.”
There hadn’t been an attack on his life for almost three months. He was feeling both antsy and relaxed. A ridiculous combination that he was only too familiar with. He’d been watching her, striving to understand her, understand how she viewed the world, and then trying to forget what he learned. But in the process, he’d come up with the list.
She received the gift like it was a precious, alien object, and, to be fair, it probably was.
“Is this something brothers do for their sisters?” she asked, bending over the list.
“I-I never had a sister.”
“I am supposed to be your sister.”
“We don’t always have to be brother and sister,” he said.
“Why not? Should our cover not be perfect in order to maintain true safety?”
“Who’s ever going to be in here, right now, knowing?”
“Perhaps Riley will come. She has come over fifty two times in the last three months. The probability of a visit is 87.465%”
John’s reaction to that was something he didn’t understand.
“Riley is a dream,” he finally muttered.
“She is human. 55% water and-“
“Not like that,” he interrupted. “She’s what I can’t have.”
“It is good that you know that.”
She looked at him with an unfathomable expression. All of her expressions were unfathomable. But was there just the slightest hint of sympathy there?
“You got what you wanted,” he said.
“What I want is your safety and well being, John.”
“I’m not being shot at.”
“Then I am doing my job. But if you are sad, then I am not.”
“Since when do you care if I’m sad?”
He looked away from her, not wanting to see the lack of emotion when she admitted she didn’t.
“I care about many things.”
He turned back to her quickly.
“Like what?”
“Your well being.”
“My physical well being, I know,” he said, disappointed.
Cameron put her hand on his arm.
“No,” she said, “all your well being.”
“You think you know what that means,” he whispered, “but you don’t.”
“You always underestimate us,” she said, just as quietly. “You always underestimate me.”
“And you don’t know what I really want,” he said, his breath hitching.
“Then tell me.”
“It’s not something I can talk about,” he said.
“Do you need a hug?” she asked. “I have observed that hugs are acceptable to those who are sad.”
“It probably wouldn’t be good if Mom saw us hugging,” he said regretfully.
Why was he regretful?
“Do brothers and sisters not hug?”
“We’re not really brother and sister.”
“Your mother is afraid I will go bad. She thinks I make you bad.”
“She does have good reason.”
“I know. You should listen to her. I must be watched.”
“I do watch you.”
She looked at him again, eyes all knowing and yet knowing nothing.
“I know. That is as it should be.”
“You still don’t understand,” he said, but he didn’t wait for her to answer. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “What was your case you solved?”
“The case of the self-made man,” she said promptly.
“What?” he said incredulously.
“I killed a T-888. He was waiting to assassinate someone on New Year’s Eve. He arrived too early.”
“How did you even find that out?”
“I saw a picture of the Roaring Twenties. Do you think I should cut my hair like that?”
“What? No, no, your hair is…nice the way it is.”
“Thank you. Why did you cut your hair?”
She could be so intrusive and random. A double edged sword of doom he could never quite dodge and wasn’t even sure he wanted to.
“Cameron, that day…I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know what happened, John,” she said quietly. “I could identify your DNA around his throat. Then I tried to terminate you.”
“Best birthday ever,” he said, mockingly cheerful.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get you your cake. I was going to pick a good one.”
“As good as your pancakes?”
“There is nothing as good as my pancakes. You said so approximately eight days, fourteen hours, fifteen min-“
“I get it.”
“I am sorry,” she said.
“How could you be?”
He clenched his jaw.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and he stiffened in shock, then felt warm.
“I just am. Can we read these books? I want to start my list.”
“Sure, yeah, we’ve got some in the living room.”
“That’s tight,” she said brightly and moved off the bed.
He lifted one arm up after her, felt his chest tighten, then stood, determined, and smiled.
“Cameron, wait! If you mess up Mom’s filing system, she’ll rip out your chip.”
He went after her, listening to her patient explanation of how she had memorized the exact angle and position of each book. He found himself happy to listen, happy to see her choose a book, and not minding at all that she was the one sent to protect him.
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Cameron
Summary: Cameron tells John about the case she solved with Eric. A conversation ensues, books, pancakes, and Sarkissian are discussed.
Disclaimer: I don't own TSCC. The title is from a song by Switchfoot
Today Never Happened Before
“I am a detective,” she announced from the doorway to his room. “A private eye, dick, gumshoe.”
Sudden visions of her in a trench coat danced in his head and he shook it to clear them.
“You’ve been reading the dictionary again.”
“It is a very useful tool. I assimilate better with its help.”
“Cameron, reading something and understanding it are two different things.”
“But how can I understand it if I do not first read it?” she asked innocently.
He laughed.
“You have me there. Come in here.” She moved three steps until she was officially in his room and then waited for more instructions. “No, in here. Sit down. Stop being so metal. Tell me why you’re a detective.”
“I solved a case.”
She moved gracefully to his bed and sat down on the edge. He scooted up the headboard so he could see her better.
“And how did you do that?”
“I followed the clues. I had help.”
“Your very own Watson,” he supplied.
“You are implying that I own a fictional character.”
“No,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m saying that just as the fictional Holmes had Watson to help him, you had someone to help you.”
“I understand. Yes, I had someone. But he is not like Watson.”
“He?” John questioned, suddenly feeling queer in the stomach region.
“Eric. He is my friend.”
“You have a friend?”
“Is that not allowed?”
“Mom would say no.” He stopped to think about it. “But do you think that you having a friend conflicts with your mission?”
“Eric is part of my mission. He helps me learn things so that I may know the world in which I must protect you.”
“Does he know about you?”
“No. Sometimes this is hard.”
“I’ll bet,” he said. “I can only imagine how Eric must really be attracted to you to ignore everything else.”
“Everything else?”
Cameron’s eyes moved directly to his and he suddenly felt uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Like what?”
He inwardly swore. How hard did it have to be to have a conversation with her? He couldn’t even apologize.
“Nothing.”
“I know what you meant,” she said, offering him a sly smile.
Her smiles were incredibly rare, whenever they happened he felt amazing. In awe, like that time when she’d been messed up and someone else and playing foosball. A realization of a dream and nightmare at the same time.
“I’ll stop treating you like someone who doesn’t know anything,” he said, patting the bed next to him. “Move over, I want to show you something.”
She moved closer so that they were sitting side by side, arms casually touching. He grabbed a notebook from under his bed and held it out to her.
“What is it?” she asked, like a child.
“It’s a list. Of all the books I think you should read instead of the dictionary. And if something doesn’t make sense to you, you can ask me.”
There hadn’t been an attack on his life for almost three months. He was feeling both antsy and relaxed. A ridiculous combination that he was only too familiar with. He’d been watching her, striving to understand her, understand how she viewed the world, and then trying to forget what he learned. But in the process, he’d come up with the list.
She received the gift like it was a precious, alien object, and, to be fair, it probably was.
“Is this something brothers do for their sisters?” she asked, bending over the list.
“I-I never had a sister.”
“I am supposed to be your sister.”
“We don’t always have to be brother and sister,” he said.
“Why not? Should our cover not be perfect in order to maintain true safety?”
“Who’s ever going to be in here, right now, knowing?”
“Perhaps Riley will come. She has come over fifty two times in the last three months. The probability of a visit is 87.465%”
John’s reaction to that was something he didn’t understand.
“Riley is a dream,” he finally muttered.
“She is human. 55% water and-“
“Not like that,” he interrupted. “She’s what I can’t have.”
“It is good that you know that.”
She looked at him with an unfathomable expression. All of her expressions were unfathomable. But was there just the slightest hint of sympathy there?
“You got what you wanted,” he said.
“What I want is your safety and well being, John.”
“I’m not being shot at.”
“Then I am doing my job. But if you are sad, then I am not.”
“Since when do you care if I’m sad?”
He looked away from her, not wanting to see the lack of emotion when she admitted she didn’t.
“I care about many things.”
He turned back to her quickly.
“Like what?”
“Your well being.”
“My physical well being, I know,” he said, disappointed.
Cameron put her hand on his arm.
“No,” she said, “all your well being.”
“You think you know what that means,” he whispered, “but you don’t.”
“You always underestimate us,” she said, just as quietly. “You always underestimate me.”
“And you don’t know what I really want,” he said, his breath hitching.
“Then tell me.”
“It’s not something I can talk about,” he said.
“Do you need a hug?” she asked. “I have observed that hugs are acceptable to those who are sad.”
“It probably wouldn’t be good if Mom saw us hugging,” he said regretfully.
Why was he regretful?
“Do brothers and sisters not hug?”
“We’re not really brother and sister.”
“Your mother is afraid I will go bad. She thinks I make you bad.”
“She does have good reason.”
“I know. You should listen to her. I must be watched.”
“I do watch you.”
She looked at him again, eyes all knowing and yet knowing nothing.
“I know. That is as it should be.”
“You still don’t understand,” he said, but he didn’t wait for her to answer. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “What was your case you solved?”
“The case of the self-made man,” she said promptly.
“What?” he said incredulously.
“I killed a T-888. He was waiting to assassinate someone on New Year’s Eve. He arrived too early.”
“How did you even find that out?”
“I saw a picture of the Roaring Twenties. Do you think I should cut my hair like that?”
“What? No, no, your hair is…nice the way it is.”
“Thank you. Why did you cut your hair?”
She could be so intrusive and random. A double edged sword of doom he could never quite dodge and wasn’t even sure he wanted to.
“Cameron, that day…I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know what happened, John,” she said quietly. “I could identify your DNA around his throat. Then I tried to terminate you.”
“Best birthday ever,” he said, mockingly cheerful.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get you your cake. I was going to pick a good one.”
“As good as your pancakes?”
“There is nothing as good as my pancakes. You said so approximately eight days, fourteen hours, fifteen min-“
“I get it.”
“I am sorry,” she said.
“How could you be?”
He clenched his jaw.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and he stiffened in shock, then felt warm.
“I just am. Can we read these books? I want to start my list.”
“Sure, yeah, we’ve got some in the living room.”
“That’s tight,” she said brightly and moved off the bed.
He lifted one arm up after her, felt his chest tighten, then stood, determined, and smiled.
“Cameron, wait! If you mess up Mom’s filing system, she’ll rip out your chip.”
He went after her, listening to her patient explanation of how she had memorized the exact angle and position of each book. He found himself happy to listen, happy to see her choose a book, and not minding at all that she was the one sent to protect him.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-01-07 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:50 am (UTC)And I love how you imply that people threatening to rip out Cameron's chip has just turned into a casual threat in the Connor household.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-08 01:59 am (UTC)And hee, yes, I imagine it would be something of a routine for them by then.