Something To Remember Me By, 5/9. NC-17
Title: Something To Remember Me By
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Pairing: Kyle/Sarah
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine! Characters you recognize belong to other people, and I own nothing even remotely related to this.
Notes: Written for the ever lovely and wonderful romanovasledger. :)
Summary: Of course Sarah had a life before Kyle appeared in it. It wasn't her fault that he didn't have one now that Genisys had been stopped. Now they had to figure out what to do with a brand new future, and Sarah was going to lead the way.
Previous chapters:
One - Uncanny Valley
Two - An Interesting Future
Three - Switch Off The Sun
Four - Choking On Thin Air
Five - Laying A New Foundation
Sarah and Kyle seemed to settle into an uneasy truce. She still slept in the same room as Kyle, but his gaze was shuttered and he fiddled with the radio, skipping through stations and trying to listen to various kinds of music. "Why don't we go to a club?" she offered. "Or the coffee shop downtown has an open mic night, and someone's bound to play something good."
Kyle had given her a wilted smile. "I'm looking for something loud."
Loud meant he needed it to drown out the noises in his head as the memories replayed in a loop, dragging him out of the depths of his dreams. Loud meant he didn't feel comfortable talking with her about what he remembered.
She gave him a brittle smile in return. "I always liked the Ramones."
"Are they on the radio?"
"Not anymore. I think they died. Thirty years is a long time."
She'd lost a lot, too, and the reminder made Kyle turn away from her to look at the radio. "They sell music, don't they?" he asked.
"Yeah. No record stores anymore. Weird disc things or on the computer to put directly into your music player. It's not the same as putting on vinyl or taping a song off the radio."
The terms confused him, but Kyle only shrugged it off. "The guys were telling me about a few bands, put some stuff on the player for me."
"Can I listen?"
"Yeah," he murmured, nodding toward the mp3 player on the nightstand. It was charging, but she could always sit on his side of the bed and put the ear buds in. "Not working too well right now, so I'm looking for something louder."
The music queued up crashed into her ears, a steady throbbing baseline and wailing guitars with angry lyrics about loss and demons. She would have thought it should drown out the sound of gunfire and screams, but apparently not.
"I like it," she said quickly when she caught him looking at her. Maybe she didn't quite pull it off convincingly, but this kind of rock music wasn't the same as the New Wave stuff she had been used to in 1984. "Can't really dance to it, though."
"I'm not using it to dance. Not really my thing," he replied gruffly, turning away.
They connected so well in bed, and this talking thing was just shit. She was no good at it; Sarah didn't know what had possessed her to try doing it. Feeling odd and awkward, she stripped out of her clothes and then knelt down in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Kyle asked, a panicky note in his voice.
Not what she had planned at all. She let out a slow breath. "I suck at words. I can't do it. I can do this, though. I can give you control."
"This isn't right," Kyle muttered in a strangled voice. He made a vague choking noise when she put her arms behind her, crossing her wrists as if they were bound. Sarah kept her head bowed, and leaned forward a little, until her forehead touched his knee. "Sarah-"
"I'm yours to do with what you want."
He swallowed, a tense sound in the silence. She didn't move when his hand came to rest on the top of her head, fingers tentatively threading through her hair. Kyle made an uncertain kind of sound, a question without words, but she continued to wait until he was ready. Minutes ticked by, and still she waited with her head bowed.
Finally, she heard the rasp of his fly being unzipped, and he shifted around until she could take his soft cock in her mouth. She worked him to full hardness, ignoring the ache in her jaws, keeping her eyes closed. There was nothing more than the floor beneath her knees, her arms locked in place behind her, his cock in her mouth and the sound of his harsh breathing in her ears. Kyle fucked her mouth, and Sarah hoped he understood what she was trying to say without words sticking in her throat.
Kyle was quiet after he spurted into her mouth and she swallowed it down. "Kyle?" she asked, still not looking up.
"I'm good. You got stuff to do today."
Sarah stood and looked at him, but he couldn't quite meet her eyes. She reached out to ruffle his hair, but he flinched at her touch. Sarah withdrew her hand and got dressed, wondering if she had made a terrible mistake. "Um. Yeah. I'll head to the bookstore, then. I have the book list for my classes. Some lit, a math class, one sociology course. The advisor said it was a regular course load, and I should handle it okay."
Kyle swallowed visibly, mouth twisting in that disconcerted way he had. "You're smart. You can handle anything they throw at you."
"Wanna come with me?" she asked impulsively. "They probably sell music there," she added when he didn't reply right away.
"Okay," he said, not meeting her eyes. "Let's see what it looks like."
Sarah didn't mind him tagging along with her during the bus route, though his shoulders slumped a bit at how crowded it was at that time of day. The campus of City College of San Francisco was a sprawling one, and Kyle seemed intimidated by the Ocean Campus where most of Sarah's classes were going to be. "There's even a hotel management course. If you're interested in that kind of thing," she told him. He didn't look very interested.
She was glad to have Kyle around with her in the bookstore. She hadn't paid attention to the suggested book list provided by the guidance counselor, and the lit courses she had signed up for each had several books to read. That was also the case for her sociology course. Math required one very expensive textbook with no used options for purchase. Frowning at the stack of books in Kyle's arms, she shook her head. "I could borrow some of these from the library instead of buying them."
"You can buy the books. Pops said so."
"Yeah, but it's not useful. And if we have to run, we'd leave it all behind."
"What do you think you'd be running from?"
Her mouth slammed shut at that. Her old way of thinking didn't apply anymore. There was no more threat, no more need to run and hide, no need to conceal her whereabouts in case someone else sent back a terminator before 1984.
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry."
They bought all of the books on the list and then wandered around the campus to get an idea of where her classes were. Sarah couldn't help but snicker at how oblivious Kyle seemed to be of the appreciative stares coeds gave him. Once the hilarity wore off, she was a little irritated by it, too. Though maybe some of them were staring at her? It was hard to tell the difference, since college was supposed to be all about experimentation. Maybe the girls were looking at her and not at Kyle. She wasn't very interested in that option, but she supposed she could give it a try just to see what the fuss was all about.
But at the same time, the thought of one of those girls running their hands over his scars or kissing his bared skin set her blood to boiling. He was hers, body and soul, and he had come back to save her life, not theirs.
"Not too many defensible positions on campus," Kyle muttered under his breath as they approached the building where her two literature courses would be.
"Probably not their worry when they were designing the place," Sarah commented dryly.
"Maybe not," he agreed in a low tone. "But I still don't like it. They have terrorists in this time, and there have been campus shootings. Domestic terrorists. They thought we were that kind. If anyone catches sight of you and puts two and two together..."
"It's been months," Sarah replied, realizing he was right. "And Pops would have said something if there was risk to us staying here."
"He might not be looking." At her incredulous expression, he sighed. "Okay, he would." He looked around, and didn't seem to take in any of the people or the ones giving him appreciative stares. "It's too open. That's not safe."
Paranoid bastard. It had saved his life in the future -his past, whatever-but Sarah found it grating. Of course she kept track of lines of sight. She was a sharpshooter, after all, and that was almost second nature.
"What? Are you going to go to classes with me?" she challenged.
Kyle frowned. "Probably not. It would be weird to have to cut out of work. And that... I need that. I need to be doing something."
"So do I. This is going to be my doing something."
Something softened in his expression, if only fractionally. "Okay. I don't like it, but okay."
She bit back a sharp reply and nodded. "I don't like how open your construction sites are, either," she said instead. His eyes widened fractionally, and she shrugged. "So yeah, I've checked out a few of your work places. Wide open. You can't say anything about where I'll be a couple hours a day. The library's huge, probably full of hiding places if need be."
"Oh." His mouth twisted. "I guess you did think it through."
For some things, anyway. That much was clear when Sarah arrived to her first Great Books class with not much more than a few notebooks and pens in her backpack. She got odd looks from the other students as she entered the room; she had carefully dressed in jeans, clunky boots, and her leather jacket over a black Ramones T shirt, thinking that showing up in a Morrissey or Smiths shirt would be a bit too depressing. She had about a dozen black jelly bracelets on her right wrist, and a black leather cuff on her left with a few pointed studs. That and the switchblades in her boots were her weapons; she knew taking a Beretta in to class was impossible, but she didn't want to be unarmed, either. The regulars at the bar had thought her outfits were cute.
These kids all thought she was weird.
They wore jeans, too, but lighter in color, with sneakers and T shirts or plain sweatshirts. She looked fairly aggressive in comparison to these softies, and she felt completely out of place. Rapidly scanning the room, she saw an empty seat next to a dishwater blonde, and the girl wasn't looking at her in horror.
"Hey," Sarah said as she slid into seat. "I'm Sarah."
"Natalie," the blonde replied. She had red lips, winged eyeliner and perfectly tweezed brows. Her shirt was a form fitting shell pink, and there were rhinestones at the collar. "Interesting outfit," she said as Sarah shrugged out of the jacket. "Trying to scare off the dick waffles of the world?"
Sarah smiled at her. "Think it's working?"
"Definitely," Natalie laughed. "I just look prep, but I had a punk/goth thing going on in my junior year of high school. And part of senior year," she added after a moment's consideration. "Which is why I'm at a community college instead of a UC school."
Smiling as if she knew what Natalie meant, Sarah nodded. "I moved around a lot, never really did much in school. I thought I could try to figure out what I want to do."
"Yeah. Try to figure out what you want to do that'll repay loans and cover rent in this city," Natalie said wryly.
"Exactly," Sarah replied.
The teacher called for attention to begin going over the syllabus, essay formats and when the midterm and finals were going to be. Sarah dutifully annotated her syllabus and took notes on the formatting in her notebook. After all, if she was going to be a student, she was going to do it all the right way.
Natalie was impressed with her dutiful note taking, and agreed to swap contact information. She was probably the first normal friend Sarah made.
It occurred to Sarah later that it was entirely surreal to be in an ordinary classroom with ordinary people talking about ordinary things. Not a whisper about fate. Not a drop of talking of the future or AI's gone rogue. Not a single word about weapons or safety checks or which model pistol would be better for her little hands.
Surreal was scary. And almost nice.
Kyle seemed a little withdrawn when she returned from class to start her reading. He was disconcerted by how she focused on the book, even though he was sitting next to her on the couch. He didn't even turn on the TV or radio to distract himself. Pops was polishing parts of an engine; Sarah had long since stopped asking where he got them or why he did it incessantly. For all she knew, it was extra money on a side job.
"You could read a book yourself," Sarah suggested.
He just sighed, for a moment looking guilty. She couldn't even begin to guess what he was thinking, and missed the days when she thought she could. Just when the silence started to get even more awkward, he said "Nah. Not my thing."
It wasn't an insult, and Sarah knew that. "I know. But we fought for this, to have a chance at a normal life. Why not even try to take it?"
"I don't know what that would be," Kyle said morosely. "Everything stopped being normal a long time ago. I buried my parents in the wreck of our yard and... And... Then I ran and I was caught, I ran again, and I started fighting. That's all I know."
"Before that? What did you do?"
"I don't remember. Video games, maybe. The other me likes them."
"So we can get you a game."
"It would require a game system and controllers as well," Pops intoned, not even looking up from the engine. "I had not purchased one when establishing this safe house, but if you require it, I can select one for your enjoyment."
Kyle looked uncomfortable. "Um. I don't think it's a good idea. Can't get distracted..."
"You can relax a little and still defend us if something happens. Plus, Pops is here."
"Affirmative," Pops said, looking up. He grinned that grimace he used when trying to look cheerful. "I am programmed to protect Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese."
"I didn't ask you to."
"It is a related directive."
Sighing, Kyle slouched further into the couch. "Oh."
"We'll get video games," Sarah said in a decisive tone. "You can play while I read. Pops, get some calming games or something."
"First person shooters would not aid in relaxation."
"Yeah, definitely not," Kyle muttered.
Sarah looked at him in disappointment, but was silent.
"Games can have cooperative features," Pops continued. "So Sarah Connor can join you in this activity. Or you can go online and find comrades in your quest for entertainment," Pops continued in the same deadpan tone.
"Jesus, Pops," Sarah grumped. "You make it sound like you want to see a strip club."
"Males often do that in this time."
"They did it in 1984, too," Sarah returned. Her sour expression deepened. "Dicks."
Startled by her announcement, Kyle looked at her. "What's a strip club?"
Sarah resisted the urge to cover her face in her hands. Pops wound up matter of factly defining what a strip club was, as well as lap dances and the chances of illicit transactions taking place in back rooms. Kyle's eyes were a bit wide, poor thing, and Sarah tamped down on the possessive feeling deep in her belly that made her want to grab his face in her hands and kiss him senseless before ordering him to eat her out until her insides quivered and her knees felt like jelly.
"That's... awful," Kyle declared finally, lips twisting in distaste. "Sex is..." He visibly faltered as he searched for a way to describe his thought process. "It's important," he said finally, though Sarah got the sense it wasn't the right word to describe how he felt. "It's a risk that should only be taken with someone you trust. Someone you're sure of. It's cheap to just trade it for cash and not connect to someone you care about."
Blinking at him in surprise, Sarah gave up on reading her book. "So they don't have people just hooking up in the future?"
"Well, some do, yeah," Kyle admitted uncomfortably. "There's some in the corps that just look each other over in the barracks and find an empty supply closet. But that's... wrong, somehow. It works for them, but that's not for me. I don't even like the idea of that. You should know who you're with. You should feel something. That's just another way to connect with someone. Sex isn't interchangeable like socks."
Considering that she had done the just because and fuck fate sex, Sarah kept her mouth shut. Sex absolutely could be had with anonymous pretty boys in clubs or back alleys if she was in the mood. It was probably a difference in outlook, though if his comrades in the future had acted like she did, it was something about Kyle. That he was an old fashioned romantic, for all of the horrors he experienced and still wouldn't talk about.
Taking his hand in hers, she threaded her fingers through and brought his hand up to her mouth to kiss his knuckles. "You're a good man, Kyle Reese."
He smiled, painfully earnest and with such devotion, even though she had hurt him so badly not that long before. She really didn't deserve that kind of smile. "For you."
Because he loved her. Because her happiness was everything to him.
Sarah leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, homework forgotten. He was too good, too pure, even with what he had seen and done in his past. She felt old and bitter and spent in comparison, too jaded before her life had even begun. Telling him to date and get to know other girls wouldn't be appreciated, and she didn't like the threads of jealousy curling in her gut, either. He was hers, she was his. That was simply the way it was.
Perhaps she was starting to accept that.
***
It wasn't really necessary to get together with Natalie, but the blonde had suggested that they could prepare better for the midterm by going over their notes for different novels. "Better than rereading them all, right? And I think you're taking the math class I had last semester, so I could always bring my old notes if you want them."
"You'd help out that way?" Sarah had asked, pleasantly surprised by the offer. "That would be great, thanks."
"I never did throw out my old stuff, and it's collecting dust. I'm not taking math ever again, I know that much. Maybe graphic design stuff, I'm keeping that, but honestly, the teacher was such a bore, I don't think I want to do that, either."
"Not any closer to knowing what you want to do, huh?" Sarah had asked sympathetically.
"Nope. How about you?"
"As long as I'm not a waitress somewhere, I'm good."
Natalie had laughed good-naturedly. "I sometimes think I'm going to be stuck as a salesgirl forever. Which is fucking depressing, but probably what I get for being a stoner for two years," she said with a shrug. "At least I never got into anything worse. My old friends practically destroyed their brains on meth or acid, and holy shit, is that sad."
Sarah nodded and managed not to grin. The topic was hardly laugh worthy, but the fact that Natalie had started to curse like a gangbanger the more comfortable she was with Sarah was actually funny. "I used to be friends with gang members when I lived near LA," Sarah admitted after a moment. "They're all dead now."
Eyes wide, Natalie shook her head. "Damn. That's harsh."
"Very."
"Where do you live? I'll bring my notes and some Starbucks tomorrow, you provide the snacks."
It wasn't until she had gotten home from class that Sarah winced and nearly smacked herself in the head. In her enthusiasm of having a friend and study buddy, Sarah had never explained Pops. Or Kyle. And how in the world was she going to explain them?
Her clothes were a bit more understated now than at the start of the semester, but band T shirts, black and denim still dominated her wardrobe. Kyle went for simple and dark clothing, and didn't seem to put much effort into his looks. His hair was still longer than it had been when she first met him, but he didn't try to get it cut military style again. Maybe it still mattered to him that she liked this look on him, clean cut and neat, easy to slide her fingers through, easy to pull him in closer to her body.
"Um, guys?" Sarah announced, seeing Pops and Kyle seated at the table, engine parts being reassembled in front of them. "Gross, there's going to be grease all over the damn place. And what's for dinner, anyway?"
"Lasagna's baking," Kyle announced, not looking up. Pops did, and smiled his grimace at her.
She winced again, and fell into a chair beside them. "Hey. So. I kinda invited a friend over to study for the midterms."
Kyle looked up at that point. "Did you do any recon on her?"
Sarah wanted to feel affronted, but she hadn't, not in the way Pops or Kyle would have, not past a cursory tail and following her around campus to be sure she wasn't a runaway machine that had better infiltration skills. But no, Natalie was a coed that lived off campus with her mother. Sarah had unashamedly spied on the house when Natalie had her other lit class, and it was in a quiet neighborhood. Natalie had once mentioned that her mother was a social worker and her father had been some kind of administrator. Wasn't it ironic that they hadn't been able to prevent their daughter from falling into the wrong crowd in high school?
"Some," Sarah told him. "She's not a spy, not a machine, and has no harmful intent toward me."
"I am accessing her social media profiles," Pops announced.
"I didn't even tell you her name!"
"You have only mentioned the name Natalie, and there is a single instance of Natalie on your phone," Pops declared. "From that, I extrapolated the identity of the girl and will complete the proper vetting process to be your friend."
"Jesus, Pops," Sarah cried, eyes wide. "It's been seven weeks that I've known her. If she was out to kill me, she would've done it by now. She's not a killer."
After a long, awkward pause, Pops nodded. "Affirmative. She had ingested hallucinogenic substances in high school, dated two women and three men up to this time, and occasionally imbibed alcoholic beverages. Her latest status update included a picture of a stack of books from your shared literature course with the caption 'Look at my hot date tomorrow night!' and a smiley face," Pops reported.
Sarah covered her face in her hands. "How am I going to explain you two to her?"
"I am Pops," he intoned, putting the last piece back together in front of him. "Kyle Reese, have you completed your half of this project?"
That startled Kyle back into action. "Oh. Almost. Then after we put the pieces back together..."
"Mario will use these to replace the broken one in his current restoration project," Pops said. Oh, was that what Pops was helping with? Sarah hadn't known. Or cared enough to ask, if she was going to be honest about it.
"Right," Kyle murmured, polishing the next piece he was holding. "It's good that you've got plans, Sarah," he said without looking up. Realizing that he couldn't even look at her hurt, though she couldn't have said why.
"And how do I explain you?"
"Do you have to?" he asked, confused, looking up at her finally.
No awkwardness in his gaze. But at the same time, Sarah didn't think that he truly forgave her for all the things she had said. It was likely more that he filed everything away to be dealt with later, and simply never went to deal with anything. That was a tactic she'd used herself for years, and as far as she could tell was commonplace in the military.
"She's going to ask who you are."
"Kyle Reese," he said with a shrug, looking back down at what he was doing. "I live here. I work on stuff. Cook. Whatever."
"We share a room."
"Yeah. About that," he began.
"I'm not moving," Sarah said quickly, pushing away the spike of panic that shot through her.
"If she inquires, simply state that you are in a monogamous sexual relationship. I would suggest stressing monogamy. Even in this time, polyamorous relationships are not well understood or received by many."
Sarah sighed and headed for the bedroom. She thought of saying a dramatic "I hate you all!" but had already tried such theatrics as a preteen. None of it worked on Pops, and something like that would make Kyle frown like a kicked puppy.
The thought of his disappointment distracted her from reading one of the texts that the midterm was going to focus on. Turning on music didn't help. What was this crap they listened to in the clubs now, anyway? What happened to actual lyrics in songs? What was this "oh baby" repetitive crap? The noise distortions didn't bother her so much, not unless one of the 80's songs she knew was skewered, but most things on the radio felt insipid in comparison to what she used to sing along with or dance to.
And Kyle wasn't willing to dance with her right now. That hurt more than she thought it would, but she didn't know how to apologize.
He came in after about a half hour, grimy and sweaty, intending to take off some of the dirtier clothes before heading to the shower. Sarah sat up straighter and put the book aside from where she had been lounging on the bed, waiting for him. "Hi," she said, feeling like an idiot.
"Pops went out," Kyle announced abruptly. "Had to deliver the engine."
"Big project you're working on?" she asked, trying to keep it sounding casual.
"Side project," he clarified. "Pops knows a few guys at the detailing shop, tosses him some work no one else wants to do and does 'em for cheap. Do enough of 'em, and it adds up."
"You like it," Sarah observed, standing up. "You like figuring things out, fixing them, changing them in ways they don't expect."
"I guess," he said with a shrug before taking off his shirt. "Broken things are still broken things."
Sarah let her fingers trail down his chest gently. "They can be fixed. Made beautiful and whole. Not like it never happened, but the area around a broken bone is stronger than the original. It fuses together tighter."
"If it's left to heal."
She stood on her tip toes and could only reach high enough to kiss his chin comfortably, since he wasn't playing along. "Or you let people help you heal."
Kyle grasped her shoulders. "What are you playing at?"
"I'm not," Sarah replied, pulling loose. "At least, I'm not playing at anything. The sex works, and I sleep better when you're here with me." She paused, not sure how to formulate her tangled emotions into words that made sense. God, there was a reason why she had avoided even a whiff of relationship bullshit in the past. "I told you I don't know what's normal. I'm trying. I'm trying to be nice, to be helpful. I'm trying to be the Sarah you want me to be, and I don't know how to do that. I'm not very nice."
He swallowed, a pained cast to the way he crinkled his eyes. "You say that a lot. I don't know if you hear yourself talking sometimes. You put yourself down, like you're not important."
"Your history only remembers me as somebody's mother. I think that's a pretty big clue that I'm a nobody otherwise. And all I was was a waitress. I didn't do anything important."
"Where I come from," Kyle replied slowly, "survival is important. And you survived."
"Yeah? Well, in this timeline, someone only counts as somebody if they do something, if they leave a mark and are remembered. And I'm not."
"It hurts me when you put yourself down."
"And it hurts me when you don't see yourself as worthwhile, either. You deserve better than you've gotten."
"So have you."
Sarah gave him a wan smile, conceding the point. "Yeah. I guess in the meantime, we just figure out how to keep on muddling through."
She didn't really expect a response to it, but it still hurt that she hadn't gotten one.
***
Natalie showed up at the apartment in jeans, a red shirt and dangly earrings with red stones in them. Her hair was pulled up in a twist, artfully messy and clipped back, and she had kohl around her eyes and bright red lipstick on her mouth. Somehow, it worked; Sarah was jealous of the ease she could pull it off, when Sarah felt like a kid playing dress up whenever she tried going through the makeup aisles at stores or more feminine clothes. She grinned widely at Natalie anyway, letting her in and leading her to the dining room table. She left the kitchen alone, in case Pops came back with yet another engine to clean and put back together, which was kind of the routine.
They had their annotated copies of the books that would be used on the midterm, notes from class and the list of prior year questions that the professor had used. Natalie had just laughed at Sarah's surprise. "C'mon, we're not the only losers taking this class, and I have friends that took this last year. There's a whole TQ underground, if you know people."
"TQ?" Sarah asked, frowning.
"Test question. If you want in, let me know. Just memorize which questions you get, write 'em down afterward, and then e-mail 'em over. Then they get collated and added to the collective."
"Seems like a lot of trouble."
"Not if you're stuck in a class. And they do more than just lit. Seriously, the science kids are all over this system."
Sarah frowned. "Oh, and that would've helped you with math last semester."
"Exactly," Natalie said, nodding to the folder of notes she had plopped onto the table for Sarah. "I found it useful, because math is just not my thing. If you wanna join, okay. If not, don't worry about it, you can still use my stuff. It's not like you have to decide right away." Natalie took a sip of her coffee and looked at the door when a key rattled in the lock. "Family?"
"Yeah," Sarah replied, not sure who was back and how to explain it.
Pops came in, and sure enough had the oily canvas bag of engine parts to clean. "I did not acquire dinner," he announced as he shut the door.
"Hey, Pops. This is Natalie."
He gave the girl a long stare, likely committing her face and biometric data to memory. "Of course," he said finally. "You can get pizza if you stay."
Sarah was grateful that Natalie at least stayed quiet until Pops went to the kitchen. "Um. Yeah," she began uncomfortably. "He's a little protective."
Natalie looked around. "No Mom. I guess I could see why."
She hadn't thought of that excuse before, and gratefully grabbed the out. "Yeah. Only child."
They went back to going over the notes and discussing the characters in the novels they had read so far, which was far more fun than Sarah had thought it would be. Maybe she could be a lit teacher? How hard could it be, if her boring ass professor got a job?
Kyle came home, and apparently it had started raining in the interim. He had dressed in only a T shirt and jeans, and both were plastered to his body. Natalie actually stopped talking midsentence and gaped at him. "Please tell me he's your brother."
"Only child, remember?" Sarah reminded her friend, smirking a little. "He's my-" What could she say? Lover? Friend? Planned baby daddy that she was trying not to make the baby with? That just sounded odd and awful, and really didn't explain the relationship they did have, as tangled as it was. "He's Kyle."
"Yum," Natalie murmured under her breath, smiling at Kyle as he made a beeline for the bedroom for a change of clothes. "I'm guessing you got dibs on that piece of eye candy."
"Yeah," Sarah said, feeling awkward. She didn't like the thought of Natalie ogling him, even if he had looked good enough to eat. "Look, I-"
"Threesome?" Natalie offered, smiling brightly at Sarah. "I mean, he's gorgeous, and you're cute, so it would hardly be a hardship on my part."
Sarah blinked in surprise. "Uh. Um."
"I'll take that a polite no," Natalie said when Sarah couldn't think of anything to say. "Damn, girl. No wonder you don't gossip about the hot guys in our class. You've got hotter at home."
"You think I'm cute?" Sarah blurted, her brain still not wrapping around the comment.
"Well, sure. In that gangsta kinda way, you know? If you went toward prep a bit more, I'm sure those jerkwads in our class would be panting after you. Then again, now I know why you're not interested. Your Kyle is delicious."
"Um, yeah. I think so." This was surreal for Sarah; she'd never talked about guys with girls before. Was this kind of talk common? "I just. Uh..."
"You're not all weird about me being bi, are you?" Natalie asked, concern in her expression. She missed Kyle heading to the bathroom with clothes in his hand, and leaned over to look at Sarah. "I mean, I'm not seriously hitting on you, if that's what you're worried about."
"No," Sarah admitted. "I just... I don't think of myself as cute."
"Oh!" Natalie laughed a little in relief and leaned back in her seat. "Well, after the midterm, why don't we go shopping, then? Update the look a little so you don't look like you're part of a punk band? Not that it's a bad look on you, but if you're not feeling it, we can try something different. I mean, you don't need to scare off any other dick waffles, do you?"
The effusive friendliness suddenly made Sarah want to cry. "I never had friends that were girls before," she mumbled.
Natalie blinked. "Oh. The gangbanger comment." She pursed her lips, thinking. "We're going to hit the mall and do the girly shit I used to do with my non-stoner friends in high school, then. I could invite you over for a sleepover, do each other's hair and nails and makeup and stuff. Give you a crash course in that stuff, minus the drama."
"What about those girls? Are you still friends with them?"
"Nah, I lost most of 'em when I hit the drug scene. And I walked away from those people, so I'm kinda low on the friend quota right now." Natalie shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but Sarah could tell it bothered her. Maybe that was why she was trying so hard to put Sarah at ease with her. Sarah could understand that kind of desperate need for friends.
"There's the TQ crowd," Sarah pointed out.
"Oh, yeah. Some of them are competitive as hell, and that's not me. But they're decent enough to talk to. I almost dated Gabriel, though," she mused. "He's pretty nice, didn't think I was a ditz, but is way too serious. Business major, taking some of the basic courses here to get his GPA up before he tries transferring to Berkeley."
"Maybe we could double date," Sarah suggested, then internally cringed. What did she know about dating anyway, let alone double dating?
Natalie laughed and shook her head. "Almost dating," she stressed. "Dude didn't want anything to disrupt his studying time. And I am definitely a disruption."
"Fun one, though," Sarah offered.
She grinned. "Thanks."
They chatted about various things as well as the novels for the lit class. Natalie was so absorbed in her assessment of Tess of the D'Urbervilles that she even missed Kyle ducking back into the bedroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. Sarah was enjoying Natalie's discussion, but hadn't missed it. Natalie was right, he was yummy. And there was both longing in his expression as he caught her laughing with Natalie, as well as a sense of joy there. He was glad she had a friend, then, though it probably bothered him that their own relationship was so strained.
He wasn't the only one. But she didn't know how to fix it, not when she was better at destruction than in building things.
***
***
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Pairing: Kyle/Sarah
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine! Characters you recognize belong to other people, and I own nothing even remotely related to this.
Notes: Written for the ever lovely and wonderful romanovasledger. :)
Summary: Of course Sarah had a life before Kyle appeared in it. It wasn't her fault that he didn't have one now that Genisys had been stopped. Now they had to figure out what to do with a brand new future, and Sarah was going to lead the way.
Previous chapters:
One - Uncanny Valley
Two - An Interesting Future
Three - Switch Off The Sun
Four - Choking On Thin Air
Five - Laying A New Foundation
Sarah and Kyle seemed to settle into an uneasy truce. She still slept in the same room as Kyle, but his gaze was shuttered and he fiddled with the radio, skipping through stations and trying to listen to various kinds of music. "Why don't we go to a club?" she offered. "Or the coffee shop downtown has an open mic night, and someone's bound to play something good."
Kyle had given her a wilted smile. "I'm looking for something loud."
Loud meant he needed it to drown out the noises in his head as the memories replayed in a loop, dragging him out of the depths of his dreams. Loud meant he didn't feel comfortable talking with her about what he remembered.
She gave him a brittle smile in return. "I always liked the Ramones."
"Are they on the radio?"
"Not anymore. I think they died. Thirty years is a long time."
She'd lost a lot, too, and the reminder made Kyle turn away from her to look at the radio. "They sell music, don't they?" he asked.
"Yeah. No record stores anymore. Weird disc things or on the computer to put directly into your music player. It's not the same as putting on vinyl or taping a song off the radio."
The terms confused him, but Kyle only shrugged it off. "The guys were telling me about a few bands, put some stuff on the player for me."
"Can I listen?"
"Yeah," he murmured, nodding toward the mp3 player on the nightstand. It was charging, but she could always sit on his side of the bed and put the ear buds in. "Not working too well right now, so I'm looking for something louder."
The music queued up crashed into her ears, a steady throbbing baseline and wailing guitars with angry lyrics about loss and demons. She would have thought it should drown out the sound of gunfire and screams, but apparently not.
"I like it," she said quickly when she caught him looking at her. Maybe she didn't quite pull it off convincingly, but this kind of rock music wasn't the same as the New Wave stuff she had been used to in 1984. "Can't really dance to it, though."
"I'm not using it to dance. Not really my thing," he replied gruffly, turning away.
They connected so well in bed, and this talking thing was just shit. She was no good at it; Sarah didn't know what had possessed her to try doing it. Feeling odd and awkward, she stripped out of her clothes and then knelt down in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Kyle asked, a panicky note in his voice.
Not what she had planned at all. She let out a slow breath. "I suck at words. I can't do it. I can do this, though. I can give you control."
"This isn't right," Kyle muttered in a strangled voice. He made a vague choking noise when she put her arms behind her, crossing her wrists as if they were bound. Sarah kept her head bowed, and leaned forward a little, until her forehead touched his knee. "Sarah-"
"I'm yours to do with what you want."
He swallowed, a tense sound in the silence. She didn't move when his hand came to rest on the top of her head, fingers tentatively threading through her hair. Kyle made an uncertain kind of sound, a question without words, but she continued to wait until he was ready. Minutes ticked by, and still she waited with her head bowed.
Finally, she heard the rasp of his fly being unzipped, and he shifted around until she could take his soft cock in her mouth. She worked him to full hardness, ignoring the ache in her jaws, keeping her eyes closed. There was nothing more than the floor beneath her knees, her arms locked in place behind her, his cock in her mouth and the sound of his harsh breathing in her ears. Kyle fucked her mouth, and Sarah hoped he understood what she was trying to say without words sticking in her throat.
Kyle was quiet after he spurted into her mouth and she swallowed it down. "Kyle?" she asked, still not looking up.
"I'm good. You got stuff to do today."
Sarah stood and looked at him, but he couldn't quite meet her eyes. She reached out to ruffle his hair, but he flinched at her touch. Sarah withdrew her hand and got dressed, wondering if she had made a terrible mistake. "Um. Yeah. I'll head to the bookstore, then. I have the book list for my classes. Some lit, a math class, one sociology course. The advisor said it was a regular course load, and I should handle it okay."
Kyle swallowed visibly, mouth twisting in that disconcerted way he had. "You're smart. You can handle anything they throw at you."
"Wanna come with me?" she asked impulsively. "They probably sell music there," she added when he didn't reply right away.
"Okay," he said, not meeting her eyes. "Let's see what it looks like."
Sarah didn't mind him tagging along with her during the bus route, though his shoulders slumped a bit at how crowded it was at that time of day. The campus of City College of San Francisco was a sprawling one, and Kyle seemed intimidated by the Ocean Campus where most of Sarah's classes were going to be. "There's even a hotel management course. If you're interested in that kind of thing," she told him. He didn't look very interested.
She was glad to have Kyle around with her in the bookstore. She hadn't paid attention to the suggested book list provided by the guidance counselor, and the lit courses she had signed up for each had several books to read. That was also the case for her sociology course. Math required one very expensive textbook with no used options for purchase. Frowning at the stack of books in Kyle's arms, she shook her head. "I could borrow some of these from the library instead of buying them."
"You can buy the books. Pops said so."
"Yeah, but it's not useful. And if we have to run, we'd leave it all behind."
"What do you think you'd be running from?"
Her mouth slammed shut at that. Her old way of thinking didn't apply anymore. There was no more threat, no more need to run and hide, no need to conceal her whereabouts in case someone else sent back a terminator before 1984.
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry."
They bought all of the books on the list and then wandered around the campus to get an idea of where her classes were. Sarah couldn't help but snicker at how oblivious Kyle seemed to be of the appreciative stares coeds gave him. Once the hilarity wore off, she was a little irritated by it, too. Though maybe some of them were staring at her? It was hard to tell the difference, since college was supposed to be all about experimentation. Maybe the girls were looking at her and not at Kyle. She wasn't very interested in that option, but she supposed she could give it a try just to see what the fuss was all about.
But at the same time, the thought of one of those girls running their hands over his scars or kissing his bared skin set her blood to boiling. He was hers, body and soul, and he had come back to save her life, not theirs.
"Not too many defensible positions on campus," Kyle muttered under his breath as they approached the building where her two literature courses would be.
"Probably not their worry when they were designing the place," Sarah commented dryly.
"Maybe not," he agreed in a low tone. "But I still don't like it. They have terrorists in this time, and there have been campus shootings. Domestic terrorists. They thought we were that kind. If anyone catches sight of you and puts two and two together..."
"It's been months," Sarah replied, realizing he was right. "And Pops would have said something if there was risk to us staying here."
"He might not be looking." At her incredulous expression, he sighed. "Okay, he would." He looked around, and didn't seem to take in any of the people or the ones giving him appreciative stares. "It's too open. That's not safe."
Paranoid bastard. It had saved his life in the future -his past, whatever-but Sarah found it grating. Of course she kept track of lines of sight. She was a sharpshooter, after all, and that was almost second nature.
"What? Are you going to go to classes with me?" she challenged.
Kyle frowned. "Probably not. It would be weird to have to cut out of work. And that... I need that. I need to be doing something."
"So do I. This is going to be my doing something."
Something softened in his expression, if only fractionally. "Okay. I don't like it, but okay."
She bit back a sharp reply and nodded. "I don't like how open your construction sites are, either," she said instead. His eyes widened fractionally, and she shrugged. "So yeah, I've checked out a few of your work places. Wide open. You can't say anything about where I'll be a couple hours a day. The library's huge, probably full of hiding places if need be."
"Oh." His mouth twisted. "I guess you did think it through."
For some things, anyway. That much was clear when Sarah arrived to her first Great Books class with not much more than a few notebooks and pens in her backpack. She got odd looks from the other students as she entered the room; she had carefully dressed in jeans, clunky boots, and her leather jacket over a black Ramones T shirt, thinking that showing up in a Morrissey or Smiths shirt would be a bit too depressing. She had about a dozen black jelly bracelets on her right wrist, and a black leather cuff on her left with a few pointed studs. That and the switchblades in her boots were her weapons; she knew taking a Beretta in to class was impossible, but she didn't want to be unarmed, either. The regulars at the bar had thought her outfits were cute.
These kids all thought she was weird.
They wore jeans, too, but lighter in color, with sneakers and T shirts or plain sweatshirts. She looked fairly aggressive in comparison to these softies, and she felt completely out of place. Rapidly scanning the room, she saw an empty seat next to a dishwater blonde, and the girl wasn't looking at her in horror.
"Hey," Sarah said as she slid into seat. "I'm Sarah."
"Natalie," the blonde replied. She had red lips, winged eyeliner and perfectly tweezed brows. Her shirt was a form fitting shell pink, and there were rhinestones at the collar. "Interesting outfit," she said as Sarah shrugged out of the jacket. "Trying to scare off the dick waffles of the world?"
Sarah smiled at her. "Think it's working?"
"Definitely," Natalie laughed. "I just look prep, but I had a punk/goth thing going on in my junior year of high school. And part of senior year," she added after a moment's consideration. "Which is why I'm at a community college instead of a UC school."
Smiling as if she knew what Natalie meant, Sarah nodded. "I moved around a lot, never really did much in school. I thought I could try to figure out what I want to do."
"Yeah. Try to figure out what you want to do that'll repay loans and cover rent in this city," Natalie said wryly.
"Exactly," Sarah replied.
The teacher called for attention to begin going over the syllabus, essay formats and when the midterm and finals were going to be. Sarah dutifully annotated her syllabus and took notes on the formatting in her notebook. After all, if she was going to be a student, she was going to do it all the right way.
Natalie was impressed with her dutiful note taking, and agreed to swap contact information. She was probably the first normal friend Sarah made.
It occurred to Sarah later that it was entirely surreal to be in an ordinary classroom with ordinary people talking about ordinary things. Not a whisper about fate. Not a drop of talking of the future or AI's gone rogue. Not a single word about weapons or safety checks or which model pistol would be better for her little hands.
Surreal was scary. And almost nice.
Kyle seemed a little withdrawn when she returned from class to start her reading. He was disconcerted by how she focused on the book, even though he was sitting next to her on the couch. He didn't even turn on the TV or radio to distract himself. Pops was polishing parts of an engine; Sarah had long since stopped asking where he got them or why he did it incessantly. For all she knew, it was extra money on a side job.
"You could read a book yourself," Sarah suggested.
He just sighed, for a moment looking guilty. She couldn't even begin to guess what he was thinking, and missed the days when she thought she could. Just when the silence started to get even more awkward, he said "Nah. Not my thing."
It wasn't an insult, and Sarah knew that. "I know. But we fought for this, to have a chance at a normal life. Why not even try to take it?"
"I don't know what that would be," Kyle said morosely. "Everything stopped being normal a long time ago. I buried my parents in the wreck of our yard and... And... Then I ran and I was caught, I ran again, and I started fighting. That's all I know."
"Before that? What did you do?"
"I don't remember. Video games, maybe. The other me likes them."
"So we can get you a game."
"It would require a game system and controllers as well," Pops intoned, not even looking up from the engine. "I had not purchased one when establishing this safe house, but if you require it, I can select one for your enjoyment."
Kyle looked uncomfortable. "Um. I don't think it's a good idea. Can't get distracted..."
"You can relax a little and still defend us if something happens. Plus, Pops is here."
"Affirmative," Pops said, looking up. He grinned that grimace he used when trying to look cheerful. "I am programmed to protect Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese."
"I didn't ask you to."
"It is a related directive."
Sighing, Kyle slouched further into the couch. "Oh."
"We'll get video games," Sarah said in a decisive tone. "You can play while I read. Pops, get some calming games or something."
"First person shooters would not aid in relaxation."
"Yeah, definitely not," Kyle muttered.
Sarah looked at him in disappointment, but was silent.
"Games can have cooperative features," Pops continued. "So Sarah Connor can join you in this activity. Or you can go online and find comrades in your quest for entertainment," Pops continued in the same deadpan tone.
"Jesus, Pops," Sarah grumped. "You make it sound like you want to see a strip club."
"Males often do that in this time."
"They did it in 1984, too," Sarah returned. Her sour expression deepened. "Dicks."
Startled by her announcement, Kyle looked at her. "What's a strip club?"
Sarah resisted the urge to cover her face in her hands. Pops wound up matter of factly defining what a strip club was, as well as lap dances and the chances of illicit transactions taking place in back rooms. Kyle's eyes were a bit wide, poor thing, and Sarah tamped down on the possessive feeling deep in her belly that made her want to grab his face in her hands and kiss him senseless before ordering him to eat her out until her insides quivered and her knees felt like jelly.
"That's... awful," Kyle declared finally, lips twisting in distaste. "Sex is..." He visibly faltered as he searched for a way to describe his thought process. "It's important," he said finally, though Sarah got the sense it wasn't the right word to describe how he felt. "It's a risk that should only be taken with someone you trust. Someone you're sure of. It's cheap to just trade it for cash and not connect to someone you care about."
Blinking at him in surprise, Sarah gave up on reading her book. "So they don't have people just hooking up in the future?"
"Well, some do, yeah," Kyle admitted uncomfortably. "There's some in the corps that just look each other over in the barracks and find an empty supply closet. But that's... wrong, somehow. It works for them, but that's not for me. I don't even like the idea of that. You should know who you're with. You should feel something. That's just another way to connect with someone. Sex isn't interchangeable like socks."
Considering that she had done the just because and fuck fate sex, Sarah kept her mouth shut. Sex absolutely could be had with anonymous pretty boys in clubs or back alleys if she was in the mood. It was probably a difference in outlook, though if his comrades in the future had acted like she did, it was something about Kyle. That he was an old fashioned romantic, for all of the horrors he experienced and still wouldn't talk about.
Taking his hand in hers, she threaded her fingers through and brought his hand up to her mouth to kiss his knuckles. "You're a good man, Kyle Reese."
He smiled, painfully earnest and with such devotion, even though she had hurt him so badly not that long before. She really didn't deserve that kind of smile. "For you."
Because he loved her. Because her happiness was everything to him.
Sarah leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, homework forgotten. He was too good, too pure, even with what he had seen and done in his past. She felt old and bitter and spent in comparison, too jaded before her life had even begun. Telling him to date and get to know other girls wouldn't be appreciated, and she didn't like the threads of jealousy curling in her gut, either. He was hers, she was his. That was simply the way it was.
Perhaps she was starting to accept that.
***
It wasn't really necessary to get together with Natalie, but the blonde had suggested that they could prepare better for the midterm by going over their notes for different novels. "Better than rereading them all, right? And I think you're taking the math class I had last semester, so I could always bring my old notes if you want them."
"You'd help out that way?" Sarah had asked, pleasantly surprised by the offer. "That would be great, thanks."
"I never did throw out my old stuff, and it's collecting dust. I'm not taking math ever again, I know that much. Maybe graphic design stuff, I'm keeping that, but honestly, the teacher was such a bore, I don't think I want to do that, either."
"Not any closer to knowing what you want to do, huh?" Sarah had asked sympathetically.
"Nope. How about you?"
"As long as I'm not a waitress somewhere, I'm good."
Natalie had laughed good-naturedly. "I sometimes think I'm going to be stuck as a salesgirl forever. Which is fucking depressing, but probably what I get for being a stoner for two years," she said with a shrug. "At least I never got into anything worse. My old friends practically destroyed their brains on meth or acid, and holy shit, is that sad."
Sarah nodded and managed not to grin. The topic was hardly laugh worthy, but the fact that Natalie had started to curse like a gangbanger the more comfortable she was with Sarah was actually funny. "I used to be friends with gang members when I lived near LA," Sarah admitted after a moment. "They're all dead now."
Eyes wide, Natalie shook her head. "Damn. That's harsh."
"Very."
"Where do you live? I'll bring my notes and some Starbucks tomorrow, you provide the snacks."
It wasn't until she had gotten home from class that Sarah winced and nearly smacked herself in the head. In her enthusiasm of having a friend and study buddy, Sarah had never explained Pops. Or Kyle. And how in the world was she going to explain them?
Her clothes were a bit more understated now than at the start of the semester, but band T shirts, black and denim still dominated her wardrobe. Kyle went for simple and dark clothing, and didn't seem to put much effort into his looks. His hair was still longer than it had been when she first met him, but he didn't try to get it cut military style again. Maybe it still mattered to him that she liked this look on him, clean cut and neat, easy to slide her fingers through, easy to pull him in closer to her body.
"Um, guys?" Sarah announced, seeing Pops and Kyle seated at the table, engine parts being reassembled in front of them. "Gross, there's going to be grease all over the damn place. And what's for dinner, anyway?"
"Lasagna's baking," Kyle announced, not looking up. Pops did, and smiled his grimace at her.
She winced again, and fell into a chair beside them. "Hey. So. I kinda invited a friend over to study for the midterms."
Kyle looked up at that point. "Did you do any recon on her?"
Sarah wanted to feel affronted, but she hadn't, not in the way Pops or Kyle would have, not past a cursory tail and following her around campus to be sure she wasn't a runaway machine that had better infiltration skills. But no, Natalie was a coed that lived off campus with her mother. Sarah had unashamedly spied on the house when Natalie had her other lit class, and it was in a quiet neighborhood. Natalie had once mentioned that her mother was a social worker and her father had been some kind of administrator. Wasn't it ironic that they hadn't been able to prevent their daughter from falling into the wrong crowd in high school?
"Some," Sarah told him. "She's not a spy, not a machine, and has no harmful intent toward me."
"I am accessing her social media profiles," Pops announced.
"I didn't even tell you her name!"
"You have only mentioned the name Natalie, and there is a single instance of Natalie on your phone," Pops declared. "From that, I extrapolated the identity of the girl and will complete the proper vetting process to be your friend."
"Jesus, Pops," Sarah cried, eyes wide. "It's been seven weeks that I've known her. If she was out to kill me, she would've done it by now. She's not a killer."
After a long, awkward pause, Pops nodded. "Affirmative. She had ingested hallucinogenic substances in high school, dated two women and three men up to this time, and occasionally imbibed alcoholic beverages. Her latest status update included a picture of a stack of books from your shared literature course with the caption 'Look at my hot date tomorrow night!' and a smiley face," Pops reported.
Sarah covered her face in her hands. "How am I going to explain you two to her?"
"I am Pops," he intoned, putting the last piece back together in front of him. "Kyle Reese, have you completed your half of this project?"
That startled Kyle back into action. "Oh. Almost. Then after we put the pieces back together..."
"Mario will use these to replace the broken one in his current restoration project," Pops said. Oh, was that what Pops was helping with? Sarah hadn't known. Or cared enough to ask, if she was going to be honest about it.
"Right," Kyle murmured, polishing the next piece he was holding. "It's good that you've got plans, Sarah," he said without looking up. Realizing that he couldn't even look at her hurt, though she couldn't have said why.
"And how do I explain you?"
"Do you have to?" he asked, confused, looking up at her finally.
No awkwardness in his gaze. But at the same time, Sarah didn't think that he truly forgave her for all the things she had said. It was likely more that he filed everything away to be dealt with later, and simply never went to deal with anything. That was a tactic she'd used herself for years, and as far as she could tell was commonplace in the military.
"She's going to ask who you are."
"Kyle Reese," he said with a shrug, looking back down at what he was doing. "I live here. I work on stuff. Cook. Whatever."
"We share a room."
"Yeah. About that," he began.
"I'm not moving," Sarah said quickly, pushing away the spike of panic that shot through her.
"If she inquires, simply state that you are in a monogamous sexual relationship. I would suggest stressing monogamy. Even in this time, polyamorous relationships are not well understood or received by many."
Sarah sighed and headed for the bedroom. She thought of saying a dramatic "I hate you all!" but had already tried such theatrics as a preteen. None of it worked on Pops, and something like that would make Kyle frown like a kicked puppy.
The thought of his disappointment distracted her from reading one of the texts that the midterm was going to focus on. Turning on music didn't help. What was this crap they listened to in the clubs now, anyway? What happened to actual lyrics in songs? What was this "oh baby" repetitive crap? The noise distortions didn't bother her so much, not unless one of the 80's songs she knew was skewered, but most things on the radio felt insipid in comparison to what she used to sing along with or dance to.
And Kyle wasn't willing to dance with her right now. That hurt more than she thought it would, but she didn't know how to apologize.
He came in after about a half hour, grimy and sweaty, intending to take off some of the dirtier clothes before heading to the shower. Sarah sat up straighter and put the book aside from where she had been lounging on the bed, waiting for him. "Hi," she said, feeling like an idiot.
"Pops went out," Kyle announced abruptly. "Had to deliver the engine."
"Big project you're working on?" she asked, trying to keep it sounding casual.
"Side project," he clarified. "Pops knows a few guys at the detailing shop, tosses him some work no one else wants to do and does 'em for cheap. Do enough of 'em, and it adds up."
"You like it," Sarah observed, standing up. "You like figuring things out, fixing them, changing them in ways they don't expect."
"I guess," he said with a shrug before taking off his shirt. "Broken things are still broken things."
Sarah let her fingers trail down his chest gently. "They can be fixed. Made beautiful and whole. Not like it never happened, but the area around a broken bone is stronger than the original. It fuses together tighter."
"If it's left to heal."
She stood on her tip toes and could only reach high enough to kiss his chin comfortably, since he wasn't playing along. "Or you let people help you heal."
Kyle grasped her shoulders. "What are you playing at?"
"I'm not," Sarah replied, pulling loose. "At least, I'm not playing at anything. The sex works, and I sleep better when you're here with me." She paused, not sure how to formulate her tangled emotions into words that made sense. God, there was a reason why she had avoided even a whiff of relationship bullshit in the past. "I told you I don't know what's normal. I'm trying. I'm trying to be nice, to be helpful. I'm trying to be the Sarah you want me to be, and I don't know how to do that. I'm not very nice."
He swallowed, a pained cast to the way he crinkled his eyes. "You say that a lot. I don't know if you hear yourself talking sometimes. You put yourself down, like you're not important."
"Your history only remembers me as somebody's mother. I think that's a pretty big clue that I'm a nobody otherwise. And all I was was a waitress. I didn't do anything important."
"Where I come from," Kyle replied slowly, "survival is important. And you survived."
"Yeah? Well, in this timeline, someone only counts as somebody if they do something, if they leave a mark and are remembered. And I'm not."
"It hurts me when you put yourself down."
"And it hurts me when you don't see yourself as worthwhile, either. You deserve better than you've gotten."
"So have you."
Sarah gave him a wan smile, conceding the point. "Yeah. I guess in the meantime, we just figure out how to keep on muddling through."
She didn't really expect a response to it, but it still hurt that she hadn't gotten one.
***
Natalie showed up at the apartment in jeans, a red shirt and dangly earrings with red stones in them. Her hair was pulled up in a twist, artfully messy and clipped back, and she had kohl around her eyes and bright red lipstick on her mouth. Somehow, it worked; Sarah was jealous of the ease she could pull it off, when Sarah felt like a kid playing dress up whenever she tried going through the makeup aisles at stores or more feminine clothes. She grinned widely at Natalie anyway, letting her in and leading her to the dining room table. She left the kitchen alone, in case Pops came back with yet another engine to clean and put back together, which was kind of the routine.
They had their annotated copies of the books that would be used on the midterm, notes from class and the list of prior year questions that the professor had used. Natalie had just laughed at Sarah's surprise. "C'mon, we're not the only losers taking this class, and I have friends that took this last year. There's a whole TQ underground, if you know people."
"TQ?" Sarah asked, frowning.
"Test question. If you want in, let me know. Just memorize which questions you get, write 'em down afterward, and then e-mail 'em over. Then they get collated and added to the collective."
"Seems like a lot of trouble."
"Not if you're stuck in a class. And they do more than just lit. Seriously, the science kids are all over this system."
Sarah frowned. "Oh, and that would've helped you with math last semester."
"Exactly," Natalie said, nodding to the folder of notes she had plopped onto the table for Sarah. "I found it useful, because math is just not my thing. If you wanna join, okay. If not, don't worry about it, you can still use my stuff. It's not like you have to decide right away." Natalie took a sip of her coffee and looked at the door when a key rattled in the lock. "Family?"
"Yeah," Sarah replied, not sure who was back and how to explain it.
Pops came in, and sure enough had the oily canvas bag of engine parts to clean. "I did not acquire dinner," he announced as he shut the door.
"Hey, Pops. This is Natalie."
He gave the girl a long stare, likely committing her face and biometric data to memory. "Of course," he said finally. "You can get pizza if you stay."
Sarah was grateful that Natalie at least stayed quiet until Pops went to the kitchen. "Um. Yeah," she began uncomfortably. "He's a little protective."
Natalie looked around. "No Mom. I guess I could see why."
She hadn't thought of that excuse before, and gratefully grabbed the out. "Yeah. Only child."
They went back to going over the notes and discussing the characters in the novels they had read so far, which was far more fun than Sarah had thought it would be. Maybe she could be a lit teacher? How hard could it be, if her boring ass professor got a job?
Kyle came home, and apparently it had started raining in the interim. He had dressed in only a T shirt and jeans, and both were plastered to his body. Natalie actually stopped talking midsentence and gaped at him. "Please tell me he's your brother."
"Only child, remember?" Sarah reminded her friend, smirking a little. "He's my-" What could she say? Lover? Friend? Planned baby daddy that she was trying not to make the baby with? That just sounded odd and awful, and really didn't explain the relationship they did have, as tangled as it was. "He's Kyle."
"Yum," Natalie murmured under her breath, smiling at Kyle as he made a beeline for the bedroom for a change of clothes. "I'm guessing you got dibs on that piece of eye candy."
"Yeah," Sarah said, feeling awkward. She didn't like the thought of Natalie ogling him, even if he had looked good enough to eat. "Look, I-"
"Threesome?" Natalie offered, smiling brightly at Sarah. "I mean, he's gorgeous, and you're cute, so it would hardly be a hardship on my part."
Sarah blinked in surprise. "Uh. Um."
"I'll take that a polite no," Natalie said when Sarah couldn't think of anything to say. "Damn, girl. No wonder you don't gossip about the hot guys in our class. You've got hotter at home."
"You think I'm cute?" Sarah blurted, her brain still not wrapping around the comment.
"Well, sure. In that gangsta kinda way, you know? If you went toward prep a bit more, I'm sure those jerkwads in our class would be panting after you. Then again, now I know why you're not interested. Your Kyle is delicious."
"Um, yeah. I think so." This was surreal for Sarah; she'd never talked about guys with girls before. Was this kind of talk common? "I just. Uh..."
"You're not all weird about me being bi, are you?" Natalie asked, concern in her expression. She missed Kyle heading to the bathroom with clothes in his hand, and leaned over to look at Sarah. "I mean, I'm not seriously hitting on you, if that's what you're worried about."
"No," Sarah admitted. "I just... I don't think of myself as cute."
"Oh!" Natalie laughed a little in relief and leaned back in her seat. "Well, after the midterm, why don't we go shopping, then? Update the look a little so you don't look like you're part of a punk band? Not that it's a bad look on you, but if you're not feeling it, we can try something different. I mean, you don't need to scare off any other dick waffles, do you?"
The effusive friendliness suddenly made Sarah want to cry. "I never had friends that were girls before," she mumbled.
Natalie blinked. "Oh. The gangbanger comment." She pursed her lips, thinking. "We're going to hit the mall and do the girly shit I used to do with my non-stoner friends in high school, then. I could invite you over for a sleepover, do each other's hair and nails and makeup and stuff. Give you a crash course in that stuff, minus the drama."
"What about those girls? Are you still friends with them?"
"Nah, I lost most of 'em when I hit the drug scene. And I walked away from those people, so I'm kinda low on the friend quota right now." Natalie shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but Sarah could tell it bothered her. Maybe that was why she was trying so hard to put Sarah at ease with her. Sarah could understand that kind of desperate need for friends.
"There's the TQ crowd," Sarah pointed out.
"Oh, yeah. Some of them are competitive as hell, and that's not me. But they're decent enough to talk to. I almost dated Gabriel, though," she mused. "He's pretty nice, didn't think I was a ditz, but is way too serious. Business major, taking some of the basic courses here to get his GPA up before he tries transferring to Berkeley."
"Maybe we could double date," Sarah suggested, then internally cringed. What did she know about dating anyway, let alone double dating?
Natalie laughed and shook her head. "Almost dating," she stressed. "Dude didn't want anything to disrupt his studying time. And I am definitely a disruption."
"Fun one, though," Sarah offered.
She grinned. "Thanks."
They chatted about various things as well as the novels for the lit class. Natalie was so absorbed in her assessment of Tess of the D'Urbervilles that she even missed Kyle ducking back into the bedroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. Sarah was enjoying Natalie's discussion, but hadn't missed it. Natalie was right, he was yummy. And there was both longing in his expression as he caught her laughing with Natalie, as well as a sense of joy there. He was glad she had a friend, then, though it probably bothered him that their own relationship was so strained.
He wasn't the only one. But she didn't know how to fix it, not when she was better at destruction than in building things.
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