TSCC Fic: Picking Up the Pieces-Part 3
"You don't need to be here, Charley."
She was on the couch in the living room. He was cleaning up the remains of breakfast. Ellison was outside with Savannah so that the other two could argue in private.
Charley didn't pause in his task of putting away the dishes. He hadn't needed to ask where anything was in the kitchen. Clothes, cabinets, Sarah arranged them both the same way she had when they first met. Charley guessed that she liked stability, routine. Probably took it wherever she could, even if all that meant was plates on the right and bowls on the left. "Are you kicking me out?" he asked, still focused on the dishes.
She should. She wanted to. It would be easier on everyone. "If I said yes, would you leave?" Sarah questioned, keeping her tone light.
"No," Charley replied easily. Setting Savannah's milk glass where it needed to be, he closed the cabinet and walked into the next room. "I wouldn't," he continued. There was a recliner near the couch. He went to the chair and sat on the arm and leaned forward a bit. "Is there a reason you're so determined on getting me out of here?"
"Is there a reason you're so determined to stay?"
"Yeah, actually. See, the more you work at getting me out of here, the more worried I get. Because then I can only assume that you have plans. Plans you probably shouldn't have, not with that bullet wound."
He was assuming that she'd bolt right away, chase down another Kaliba lead. Sarah wasn't about to tell him the truth, even if it meant an end to this particular debate. "You don't need to be here," she said quietly, holding his gaze as she spoke. "I'm fine now, like you told Savannah. I owe you for that, but you don't to stay."
"You don't owe me," he refuted, because he couldn't accept or verbalize the other thing. The thing about how some part of him wanted to stay. "Besides, Savannah misses Ellison." Ignoring the sour expression he got for that remark, Charley kept talking. "She misses you, too."
That made Sarah close her eyes for a moment. Part of the reason she'd given the girl to Charley was stability. A truly normal upbringing was an impossibility, Savannah needed to learn and prepare for the worst case scenario. However, placing her with Charley, who was more than willing to pour everything he had into raising her, that was the best Sarah could do as far as giving Savannah a happy childhood. Charley was strong and steady and dependable. You knew what to expect from him. Meanwhile, Sarah kept mucking up all that stability she'd hoped to give the child. She was there and then she wasn't. She was affectionate and then she wasn't. Sarah knew this about herself, knew Charley resented her for it, knew that Savannah may one day resent her for it. She understood all this, but understanding didn't always equal change.
"Savannah has you."
Charley nodded. "And she wants you."
Sarah laughed without much humor. The girl seemed to have adjusted to sucking up whatever small bits of warmth Weaver bothered to give her. From what Sarah could tell, Savannah had adapted as best she could, worked with what she had, and done her best to convince herself that the machine was her mother. From Ellison's comments, the strategy had worked for a time. But when the bad men came to her house, when Weaver and John Henry disappeared, the wall came down. The world Savannah knew disappeared, and the lies she told herself in order to make sense of that world lost their power. Which explained all the comments about old mommy versus new mommy, the eventual breakdown in Sarah's arms. Without wanting to, Sarah remembered going with Ellison to get Savannah, Promising the girl that she, Sarah, would take care of her. A stupid thing to say, a bad promise to make, but she'd been running on adrenaline and forced numbness, and she'd said whatever was needed to get the look of fear and sadness off Savannah's face.
"She wants me. Guess when you're lonely enough, you take what you can get."
Charley tried not to twitch. He wasn't thinking of Savannah in that moment. "Are we hindering your busy schedule?" he asked.
Sarah felt like lying. She felt like saying that there were missions to spec out, calls to make, leads to follow. She wanted to lie, but didn't. With a shrug, "I was going to clean the guns."
Charley snorted back a laugh. He didn't know whether it was good or bad that he found that remark amusing. "Another Sunday morning with Sarah Connor."
Sarah's expression changed. Charley hardly ever did that. Her real name sounded strange on his lips. She flashed back to the house in Nebraska. Dinner and candles and John gone to the movies. A ring glinting in the candlelight.
"Sarah Reese, will you marry me?"
She'd liked Sarah Reese. Despite her normal frustration with the endless aliases, she'd really liked Sarah Reese. Before Sarkissian, John once asked why she had such issues with Cameron. He pointed out that she'd been much more ready to take help from 'Uncle Bob,' despite her history with that model. Sarah had given a terse reply. The situation was different then, 'Uncle Bob' hadn't wound up living with them, hadn't been around long enough to make Sarah insane. She hadn't lied, but she hadn't told John everything. Ten years ago, Sarah had been waiting for disaster. She might not have expected it in the form of that particular terminator at that particular time, but she'd always known it was looming. Her life then was nothing but John. Sarah Connor was the mother of John Connor. She lacked the time, energy, the desire to be anything else.
Sarah Reese was more than that. John remained paramount, as he always would, but Sarah Reese had a life that didn't involve guns or death or war. She had Charley. And despite all the warnings to John about getting complacent, Sarah hadn't followed her own advice. She got comfortable with her life. John never realized how hard it was for her to wake him up that morning and tell him to pack, never realized that she hurt just as badly for what they were losing.
Part of the reason she was so harsh with Cameron, beyond all the obvious stuff, was because of what the metal represented. Failure, when Sarah had dared to hope for success. The death of Sarah Reese. That machine ten years ago, he broke her out of the institution, confirmed what Sarah knew all along, despite her supposed insanity. Cameron, she'd confirmed what Sarah had known, but refused to accept. Sarah Connor existed to prepare her son for Judgment Day. To stop it, if at all possible. Sarah Connor wasn't meant to make a life for herself.
"You okay?"
"I feel great," Sarah responded, jolted back to the here and now. Charley gave her a dubious look. "I don't feel terrible," she amended, earning a small smile. "I'm okay. Really. You don't need to babysit."
"Wasn't planning on it," he replied.
Sarah tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. He was still smiling, in a way that she didn't like. There was a hint of mischief in his tone that also made her nervous. Before she could ask, Savannah came in through the back, Ellison on her heels. Sarah noted the enthusiasm as the kid made a beeline for Charley.
"Hey, honey. Did you and Mr. Ellison have fun?"
"Yes. There's a bird's nest in that tree outside. Mr. Ellison helped lift me up so I could see."
"She's grown," Ellison stated, nodding to the adults as he grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen. "At least I know she's eating properly."
That was supposedly directed at Charley. Ellison's eyes cut to Sarah as he said it, lingering meaningfully.
"Uncle Charley's a good cook." Savannah repeated her earlier sentiment, not noticing the glare Sarah was directing at Ellison. "Even Buddy thinks so."
Charley laughed in a way Sarah hadn't heard since Nebraska. She'd hoped the kid would be good for him, and right now she was pretty happy with her decision.
"Buddy's a dog. He'll eat just about anything."
Charley locked eyes with Sarah. The brunette knew from that damn smile exactly what he was too nice to say in front of Savannah. Even your cooking. Sarah wasn't sure whether to smile or smack him. She chose the latter, pretty happy with that decision as well.
Leaving Charley's side, Savannah joined Sarah on the couch. "Guess what? Uncle Charley said we could stay here this afternoon."
"Did he?" Sarah asked, trying to keep the edge out of her voice.
"He said you didn't feel well, because of how you got hurt. I don't like being alone when I don't feel well. He said it was okay if I kept you company." A pause. "It's okay, right?"
Charley was learning much too fast. She'd used Savannah against him that first night, made sure he was in the room when she promised the girl that he'd take care of her. Apparently, he hadn't forgotten. Apparently, he was not above using Sarah's own methods against her. "Of course it's okay, but what about Mr. Ellison. Don't you want to spend more time with him?"
"I've got to do some research on those files, remember?"
Ellison was in on it. She'd ordered him to get online and check out some companies that might be related to Kaliba. She hadn't been entirely cordial while giving that order, so now he and Charley were conspiring against her. Sarah smiled at Savannah, then she smiled at Charley. The look in her eyes didn't match what her mouth was doing, but Charley didn't seem to care. She continued to glare with her eyes while he continued to smile with his.
Sometimes when John was much younger, he'd complain about what they didn't have. It wasn't a regular thing, kids knew what they knew and they dealt with it. Still, when he was near Savannah's age, John made an issue out of the fact that they never had cable TV. To this day, Sarah had no idea what brought it on. More often than not, John simply accepted and adapted to their living situation, much like Savannah had with Weaver. But at that time, for whatever reason, John expressed his ill feelings towards Mexican soap operas on a TV that was probably older than his mother. It was an annoying argument, a pointless one, but some part of Sarah had been amused. Amused that despite the craziness he lived in, John was still able to gripe about a relatively normal thing. Then he kept whining and he made the mistake of mentioning boredom, and Sarah sent him out with one of Enrique's sons to learn about hotwiring vehicles. Boredom had no place in the life of John Connor.
Sarah was bored out of her mind. If this was what John had worried about missing, then she truly couldn't fathom what that argument had been about. Charley had left her and Savannah to themselves, making an excuse about helping Ellison with that research. Sarah almost glared just thinking about it. There was only one laptop, and despite her aversion to the things, she was pretty damn sure that two people turning on one computer was overkill. Before he left, Charley had switched on the Disney Channel. He wore an evil grin, or his approximation of one, and Sarah realized then that he was not beyond small acts of revenge.
So this was Hannah Cyrus or Miley Montana or whatever the fuck she called herself. Sarah would've thought that a show involving double identities would hold at least some appeal for her. Instead, Sarah kept remembering an extended drive with Cameron. The metal heard one of those Miley Montana songs on the radio and then another one shortly after that, and then another. Cameron spent the duration of the drive analyzing the lyrics and complaining about their repetitive simplicity.
This wasn't as bad as that. The show was awful and Sarah was restless and bored, but it could've been worse. The weight of Savannah leaning against her uninjured side was nice, even as Sarah devised ways of getting back at the men. A gentle tug on her arm got her out of retribution mode, at least temporarily. "What's up?"
"Can we do something else?"
Savannah didn't seem very entertained either. Sarah wondered briefly if Charley or Ellison had lied to the child, convinced her that Sarah was the one who wanted to see this drivel. Making a mental note to investigate that later, Sarah tried not to sound too eager in her acceptance of the request.
They wound up playing cards with a deck found in the junk drawer. Sarah lost, then won, then lost again at Go Fish. They were in the middle of their third game of War (Sarah found it ironic that that particular game was so incredibly simple), when Savannah abruptly gave up on her cards and observed the couch cushions.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
The girl took a few seconds to answer. "Are you mad at me?"
Sarah blinked repeatedly. The poorly-disguised hurt in Savannah's voice was like a well-directed punch striking her from nowhere. "Why would you think I'm mad?"
The child raised her eyes shyly. "Because you always act that way."
Kids and their honesty. At least she could be confident in Savannah's rudimentary observational skills. "I'm not mad." Off the girl's disbelieving look. "At you. I'm not mad at you."
"Then why did you stop coming over?"
Jesus. Because of the mission, because of Charley and the weakness she displayed with him. Because of a million other things that Sarah couldn't explain to herself, never mind Savannah. "I've been busy."
It came out terse and a little rough and Sarah cursed to herself, knowing where Savannah's mind was going. She'd already made the comparison between Sarah and her old mommy. The machine had been busy too, and Weaver's indifference had led to Savannah's friendship with John Henry. One machine with big plans and no time, another one trapped in a basement with nothing but time. Sarah could almost laugh at the irony.
"You should come over again and teach me things. I promise I'll do better."
Sarah gave the kid credit for feigned enthusiasm. Her type of schooling was hardly the same as recess twice a day and graham crackers in the afternoon. "You do fine. More than fine. It has nothing to do with you."
That seemed to calm some of the girl's worries. "That's what Uncle Charley said. He promised it wasn't my fault."
"Charley's a smart man, you should listen to him."
"You don't."
There was nothing behind the remark except more honesty and innocent curiosity, meaning Sarah couldn't even get mad.
"Can't you come over more often? You can't be busy all the time."
Sarah tried not to react to that. "What about Charley, doesn't he play with you a lot?"
"Yes, but it's not the same, and Uncle Charley's still sad sometimes."
Of course he was sad. Because of her. "What about Buddy?"
"Buddy's a dog, and that's not the same either."
Fair point. "Savannah…"
"You said you weren't mad. You said it was important to teach me things."
"It is."
"Then why aren't you around anymore?"
Fuck. She was going to kill Charley.
Sarah woke from a dreamless sleep, rested and refreshed. It took a second to realize she was still on the couch, that Savannah was still snuggled against her. Sarah didn't remember dozing off, but she did remember the conversation with Savannah, the girl smiling, more games. Blinking her eyes, Sarah noticed the deck of cards stacked neatly on the table. A comfortable warmth made her look down at the blanket draped over both of them. That definitely hadn't been there earlier.
Ignoring the ache in her side, Sarah left the couch, careful not to wake Savannah. Repositioning the blanket, she made sure the girl was sufficiently covered before moving into the kitchen. She was hungry for the second time today and couldn't remember when that'd happened last. She opened the fridge to find a plate of sandwiches covered in plastic wrap. Most of them were made with her favorite ingredients, but a few were the same ones she'd watched Charley make for Savannah on numerous occasions. Smiling to herself, the brunette took one of the sandwiches and sat down by the counter. It was a sandwich, hardly gourmet, but it tasted incredible nonetheless.
Setting her plate in the sink, Sarah left the kitchen and moved down the hallway. Ellison's door was only partially closed, and she glimpsed him tapping away at his laptop, hunched forward over his desk. Pushing the door open, she took a few steps inside. "Anything?"
Swiveling in his chair, Ellison cracked his knuckles and held up a stack of printouts next to the computer. "Not that I can see. I'm sure you'll want to look them over anyway."
"I will. Where's Charley?"
Putting the documents aside, Ellison gave her a wry look, fingers steepled in front of him. "I warned him, so don't blame me. And don't wake Savannah, keep the yelling to a minimum."
"Why would I yell?"
Ellison merely shook his head, returning his attention to the computer.
Raising her eyebrows, Sarah left him to his own devices and continued down the hall. Their one bathroom was empty, which left…
She found Charley in her bedroom, cleaning and reassembling an assault rifle. It was the second time she'd seen him with a gun, and the image wasn't any less jarring. If anything, this time was worse. She hadn't seen him with a weapon before today, hadn't heard him use her full name more than once or twice. She remained in the doorframe, rooted to the spot.
Charley noticed her a moment later. Abandoning the firearm, he raised his hands and held up a rag that might once have been white. "You said the guns needed cleaning."
"I was joking."
"Hard to tell with you."
"You went through my stuff?"
"I went to the bathroom earlier, you were out of soap. I looked for more and found this," he indicated the rifle, "under the sink."
Annoyed, Sarah glanced back down the hallway. "I told Ellison to put that in the kitchen."
"The shotgun's in the kitchen, found it when I found the hand soap."
"And I suppose you refilled the dispenser." She was going for angry and it shouldn't be difficult, but it was. Acknowledging her failure Sarah stepped further into the room.
Leaving the gun and supplies on the dresser, he joined her as she perched on the bed. "I didn't want to interrupt your nap, but I needed to do something."
"I don't nap," Sarah argued, somewhat defensively. "I was resting my eyes."
"Does it make you sad that you're stealing excuses from the 6-year-old you were napping with?"
"She napped, I rested my eyes. What about Buddy, isn't he going to need some attention?"
"I already let him out and refilled his food and water." Genuinely amused by her look of surprise, Charley held out his watch hand. "You were resting those eyes for quite awhile."
Sarah took hold of his hand, unable to believe what she was seeing. "I was out that long?"
"Maybe you needed to be. Feeling okay?"
"Yeah," she confirmed, dropping Charley's hand and staring at a point over his shoulder.
Charley studied her intently, unsure what to make of the expression on her face. "Seriously, you all right?"
Blinking as if from a daze, Sarah refocused on him. "Yeah. Woke up and felt like I was in another life."
"Is that a bad thing?" he asked gently.
It wouldn't be if that life had ever really existed, if it ever could. "Not as bad as those kiddie reruns you subjected me to."
Charley smiled. He'd known she would love that one. "Why do you think I'm trying to teach her about the boat? Anything to keep that remote out of her hands."
"Speaking of, I appreciate you siccing the kid on me like that."
"Learned from the best."
A pause. "She thought I was mad at her?"
Charley shrugged. "I tried, she needed to hear it from you. What did you expect, Sarah?" When she didn't answer, he pressed on. "You can't have it both ways."
"I know," she admitted.
"She's not going to understand."
"I know."
Sighing, Charley ran a hand through his hair, buying time to choose his words. "I keep telling you, we're in this. All of us. You can't…you can't tell me and Savannah to run off somewhere and pretend that nothing's happening. And if those things are after her-"
"I know, Charley. It's…everything's so much harder than it was."
"When it was just you and John."
Sarah nodded, knowing she was saying too much yet unable to stop herself. "Even with Derek and the metal…it was easier in some ways."
Charley's face clouded over. He knew damn well that he wasn't much good to her. He was a babysitter, a cleanup guy. Kyle Reese was John's father, Sarah's hero. And despite her issues with him, Derek was still a soldier, an asset to her mission. Charley was a liability, she'd all but told him as much on more than one occasion. He'd seen all the cuts and bruises. She was getting sloppy and self-destructive without John as an anchor, and Charley couldn't even stop that from happening.
"Charley? What's wrong?"
She rarely spoke to him in that tone, without the barriers. Charley wished he could enjoy it, then he remembered Michelle and got angry at himself for thinking that way. "Nothing," he said as normally as possible. "So you told Savannah her lessons were resuming?"
"You were eavesdropping?"
Charley shook his head and grinned a little. "Psychic streak."
"Look, I know that my being there-"
"Stop. You know what's important, we both do. She needs to be safe; you'll teach her to be safe."
Sarah's lips turned up in bemusement. "We made a deal. She found out that I need Ellison for even the basic computer stuff, and she's going to try fixing that. I think it makes her feel important, the idea of switching roles."
Charley laughed at the notion of Sarah getting computer tutorials from a first-grader. She glared at him for real this time and he eventually stopped laughing. "Well after Savannah teaches you how to Google, maybe you could teach me something."
"Oh?" Sarah responded, eyebrows raised.
"Are we agreed that you can't hide me away from this anymore?"
Sarah couldn't answer immediately. "Yes."
Charley nodded his satisfaction. "Good. I want to know more, Sarah, I want to be able to do more" Needed to, if he and Savannah were going to stay alive.
Sarah frowned. "You're asking me for training."
"I don't expect to become you. Or Derek. Or…or Kyle. But I need something better than run and hide and shoot."
"There isn't anything better. For one of those things, there's nothing more to do."
"Uh-huh. All those guns you've got stashed, would they even help, really?"
"Might buy a few seconds. And they make me feel better."
"Right. And these people, Kaliba, they are people. There are other kinds of threats, besides the machines."
As if she needed the reminder. "Charley…"
"Sarah…I can't do this anymore. I can't sit out on that beach with Savannah and just wait. I need to do something. I need to at least feel like I'm doing something. Like I've got a chance of making it when something does happen."
Sarah looked at him for a long moment. She'd tried separating him from all this, and then she brought Savannah to his door. She'd brought Charley back in, even though he claimed never to have left. She'd been clinging to her memories of him, memories made as Sarah Reese. But that woman had never truly existed, and now her fiancé didn't either. The Charley who proposed to her was not the man sitting in front of her. He'd been changed, tainted by all this, and Sarah couldn't fix that. Nor could she continue to live in the past. Besides, anything that would allow Charley to better defend himself…
"Okay," she said finally. "Tomorrow we start basic hand-to-hand."
"Tomorrow? Sarah, the wound-"
"It'll be fine," she interrupted, a hint of steel in her voice. "I said basic, I won't be moving that much."
"I don't want you getting hurt."
Sarah smirked. "Charley," she drawled. "Injured or not, if you can get anywhere close to hurting me, then we really are screwed."
Sarah was true to her word. The next day, after token objections from Charley, they started hand-to-hand training. Sarah was also right about the wound not being an issue. She was still recovering, still weaker than usual. And she still kicked his ass again and again, without effort, without having to move much at all.
The moves she taught were indeed basic, but that didn't make them useless. As days turned into weeks, Charley improved steadily. He had lots of time to practice after Sarah left, even with all the responsibility of caring for Savannah.
The girl meanwhile was relatively happy. Aunt Sarah was back to teaching her, and things didn't seem as bad anymore with the adults. The silences continued, as did the heavy glances that Savannah couldn't comprehend. However, those things didn't happen quite as much. Better yet, neither of them seemed quite as sad anymore. For the first time, Savannah truly believed Aunt Sarah's words about how she and Uncle Charley were friends.
That didn't mean things were perfect. Friends fought. Charley said that to the girl every time he argued with Sarah. When Sarah first started teaching her things, Charley stayed away as much as possible. He went outside to work on the boat while Sarah went about her business. It was easier that way, on several different levels. At first, Charley honestly couldn't be around her for more than a few minutes, and he suspected the feeling was mutual. That wasn't so much of an issue anymore, and neither was the other thing. Charley used to be a distraction. He'd come in and Savannah's eyes would light up, and anything Sarah said, no matter the importance, would fall on deaf ears. Savannah was doing a better job of focusing, of hearing what she needed to hear. Sarah was reminded of John, of John and Cameron both asserting that he always heard his mother, always listened.
Savannah's growing ability to tune out distractions meant that Charley could observe Sarah's lessons without interrupting them. He watched Savannah's impossibly wide grin at the slightest bit of praise from her instructor, and that made him smile. He also watched what Sarah was teaching the child, and certain things made him glare. They did their best to send the kid away before a fight, but Savannah was not stupid. She quickly learned that 'Go play in your room' or 'Go play outside for awhile' could be said in many different ways, with many different inflections. She didn't need Sarah's tense and wordless departures or Charley's scowls of frustration to know when it got bad between them.
Despite all that, things were better. Charley set up a homeschooling program from research he'd done online. When Savannah wasn't learning from one or the other adult, she taught Sarah computer stuff. Charley wasn't allowed to stay in the room for that part. Her technological stupidity was too much to take without smirking, and Sarah got enough 'How could anyone not know this' stares from the child who was tutoring her. Savannah's looks of incredulity reminded her of looks from John, expressions that used to irritate the hell out of her, but probably wouldn't anymore. If she ever saw him again.
Charley went down hard, grateful for the soft beach they used as a training ground. Wincing, he gingerly rotated his arm. Unbidden, a memory of John took over. John, when he came to the house, right after the news broadcast. That move John used to subdue him and get away, Charley had just been forcibly reacquainted with it. Sarah was pulling her punches, he knew that. She always held herself back until he had a decent grasp on whatever maneuver they were working on. Then she'd let loose a bit and order Savannah to have the ice packs ready. They were in the beginning stages of this move, so she was holding back, even though it didn't feel that way.
"You were supposed to block," she informed him, reaching out a hand. Tone aside, Sarah was pleased with his progress. Charley wasn't a soldier, probably never would be. He wasn't Derek or Kyle, but he was getting better and Sarah was pleased. He learned faster than she would've guessed. The biggest problem had been getting him to stop pulling punches with her, and after too many bruises and too many comments from Savannah about how he was walking funny, he'd stopped pulling the blows.
"Was I?" Charley asked, taking her hand and pulling himself up. "Is that what I was supposed to do? Well, the idea did cross my mind."
Sarah shook her head. There was irritation in his voice, but at least some of it was feigned. Playfulness had no place here, so she kicked out. Charley dodged, but did it awkwardly, nearly falling again. Sarah was pleasantly surprised, having fully expected to bring his feet out from under him. "Smooth," she drawled.
"I dodged," Charley pointed out, once he was sure of his footing.
"You dodged," Sarah nodded. "Congratulations."
A giggle from behind him cut off any retort Charley might've had. Turning, he saw Savannah near the back door, clutching her stuffed giraffe and continuing to chuckle. "Think that's funny do you?"
"No," Savannah refuted before bursting into giggles again, trying to hide her face behind the toy.
Rolling his eyes, Charley looked back at Sarah. The brunette was attempting, without complete success, to keep a straight face. "It's a good thing I'm not insecure, or we might have a problem here."
"Aunt Sarah beat you," Savannah observed, voice carrying across the beach. "Again."
"Yes, she did. And you think that's funny, huh?"
"No," Savannah repeated, still giggling.
Moving away from Sarah, Charley went towards the house, his steps exaggerated. Then he stopped, holding his arms out beside him and inserting false menace into his voice. "Why don't you come down here and laugh at me?"
He didn't expect her to comply. They'd played this game before, and the rules were pretty much set. Charley faked anger and pretended to go after her, she ran. It wasn't original, but it was something between them, a routine that made both participants smile. Used to this routine, Charley was mildly surprised when Savannah responded to his taunt. She walked towards him with an easy confidence and a grin that threatened to split her face.
"Hi," she greeted, crossing her arms loosely while still holding her giraffe.
"Hi," Charley mimicked, crossing his own arms and nodding at the toy. "You and your friend there enjoying the show?"
"Yes," she admitted, head bobbing up and down.
"I see," Charley deadpanned. In a flash, he grabbed the toy, stepping back a few paces. "How about now?" he asked, running his fingers across the stuffed neck. "He enjoying himself now?"
"Yes," Savannah replied. Ducking under Charley's arm, she ran towards Sarah, feinting left as Charley made a grab for her. Dodging a second attempt, the girl made it to relative safety, using Sarah's body as a shield. She was glad the woman had taught her how to do this, despite some initial skepticism.
"What are we learning today?"
"Running, we're learning how to run."
"Running? I know how to run. I was best in my class at Duck Duck Goose."
"This is different from Duck Duck Goose. I'm going to teach you how to run properly."
She had, and now Charley was jogging towards them with Savannah's toy in one hand, while the girl herself peeked out from behind Sarah's leg. "You're a little brat, you know that?" he asked upon reaching them.
"Am not, I'm just smart."
Shrugging, Charley spread his arms helplessly, looking to Sarah for help.
"You are a brat," Sarah told her, reaching back as if to move Savannah into the open "And I don't remember volunteering to play human shield."
"No!" Savannah giggled, clinging tighter to Sarah's legs. "Don't!"
"Chicken," Charley teased, feigning another grab.
Savannah didn't flinch, knowing the ruse for what it was. "You can't get me," she taunted, peeking out at Charley again. "You can't get me because you won't touch Aunt Sarah."
The adults had been smiling up to this point, Sarah, in spite of herself. They locked eyes and something shifted, and their smiles faded. "No," Charley said slowly. "No, I won't do that."
Sarah could feel the girl trembling behind her, too happily excited to notice the change in mood. Taking a breath, Sarah reached back and did her best to maintain a playful tone. "You've got three seconds to surrender. I spend enough time caught in the crossfire.
"Trade?" Charley suggested. He too was doing his best to maintain appearances.
Sarah started to move and the kid grabbed hold of her again. "Tell him to give me my toy first," Savannah ordered.
"Give her the toy first."
It would've been simple, except that Savannah refused to move, refused to reach out. Charley was forced to pass the toy to Sarah, trying not to react as their fingers brushed together. Sarah passed the toy to Savannah, glad the child couldn't see her face. Savannah released her hold and Sarah stepped sideways, playfully shoving her into Charley's arms.
Grinning, Savannah held tight to her giraffe as Charley put his hands over her shoulders. "Can we have lunch now?" she asked.
"Sure," Charley replied. They'd postponed the meal because of Sarah's arrival. She came as often as she could, but never at the same time. Also, she didn't call. If they were in the middle of something when she arrived, that something got dropped. That part irked him, even though he'd wanted her to resume the lessons, even knowing there was a method to her madness. The way Sarah chose to arrive was a lesson unto itself. There were no constants, no schedules. You had to be ready to drop everything. Comfort and happiness could be gone in an instant, and you had to behave with that in mind.
"Are you going to eat with us?" Savannah asked, leading the adults back towards the house and swinging her giraffe as she went.
Sarah walked next to Charley without looking at him. "Maybe some other time, I've got things to do."
"You're welcome to stay," said Charley, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
The offer didn't sound as awkward and forced as it could have, Sarah gave credit for that. "Thank you, not today."
"Uncle Charley's making Mexican," Savannah persisted as she entered the kitchen, blissfully ignorant of the tension behind her. "I've never had Mexican before."
"No?" Sarah asked. Weaver probably had the kid's diet all mapped out, rotating the same menu over and over, with no variations. Savannah's reply confirmed what'd only been a guess on Sarah's part.
"No. Mommy…new Mommy…she had the cook make the same stuff all the time. It was boring."
"I bet."
"You should stay," the girl persisted, taking a seat at the kitchen table and placing the giraffe there as well. "Uncle Charley bought lots of food."
"I stopped at that little stand down the road," said Charley, beginning to pull things from the fridge. "Got all the best stuff, authentic Mexican food." She wouldn't stay, and he didn't think he wanted her to, but Savannah was here and they had to maintain appearances.
"That's not authentic," Sarah countered, keeping a casual tone as she leaned against the table. "That place doesn't sell the real deal."
"How would you know, you try anything there?" He doubted it. She wouldn't waste the time to stop, and she was still so damn thin. Powerful yes, but thin.
"I've driven past it, it's not real Mexican."
"And you can tell just by looking." As he talked, Charley pulled a bag of tortilla chips from the cabinet and grabbed a jar of salsa.
"Yes," Sarah confirmed. "I can tell. Just by looking."
"Yeah well, try a bit of this." Tearing open the bag and twisting the lid from the jar, Charley placed both items by Sarah on the table. "Had some earlier, took half a loaf of bread for my tongue to stop burning."
"It was funny," remarked Savannah, remembering the look on Charley's face.
"I'm just a barrel of laughs for you aren't I?" Charley teased, cuffing her lightly on the head. He watched Sarah grab a chip and dunk it into the red mixture before popping it in her mouth. "Well?"
"Not bad," Sarah pronounced. She showed no reaction to salsa which, according to the jar, was so hot only an idiota would try it. "Not real, but not bad."
Charley guessed he shouldn't have been surprised. Savannah began accusing him of lying about the food being real Mexican, and before he could stop himself, "Well, you're the expert, prove it. Bring over the real thing next time you stop by."
A week later, Sarah complied. It was a stupid move and she knew it, playing the family thing with Charley. But Savannah wouldn't let it go. To Sarah, the girl displayed the persistence of a terminator. Charley saw it differently, saw what Sarah was unable or unwilling to recognize.
They ate after training was done for the day. Sarah stretched it out, and Charley knew the kid was starving, but Savannah didn't complain. The girl went from one extreme to the other. Some days, she turned inward and hid in her room and barely spoke to him. Others, she was a ball of energy, and he could almost forget what she'd been through. Tonight was good, Savannah laughed and smiled and babbled on to Sarah about everything she'd done since they last spoke. She loved the food and repeatedly told Sarah as much. Charley thought the brunette could've shown up with crackers and club soda and gotten the same result.
"Can't get food like this in Nebraska. Who's your source?" Charley was enjoying himself. He shouldn't be, but he was. Even with Savannah, the loneliness could get bad, and it was nice setting a table for three again.
"My source is my source," Sarah replied, swallowing a forkful of rice. "She won't sell to you."
Charley raised an eyebrow and bit into a taco. "Why?" he asked, once his mouth was clear. "Because I'm a gringo?"
"Yes," Sarah replied.
"And this rule doesn't apply to you?"
"No."
"All right, that explains it."
"To Rosa, I'm not a gringo anymore. You earn your way out of the title."
"Do I want to know how?"
"Probably not." Glancing to her right, she watched Savannah struggle to keep the contents of an enormous burrito from ending up on Charley's floor. "Next week we work on hand/eye coordination," Sarah quipped.
"You're coming over next week? That's great!"
Sarah tried not to wince at the enthusiasm, or at the hole she'd just dug herself. "I don't…we'll see, Savannah."
The kid set down her food and stared at the napkin on her lap. "You've got things to do," she stated miserably. Then, raising her eyes, "What kinds of things?"
Sarah looked at Charley, who leaned back and offered no assistance. Despite her acknowledgement that he had a role to play in all this, Sarah refused to bring him into the loop. She wouldn't give him specifics of what she was doing, where she was going, how the all-important mission was coming along. It bothered him, this lack of information, increased the feelings of seclusion. He wasn't expecting to join the team, not in the way Derek Reese had once bitingly suggested. But with Savannah's future, the future of the whole damn world riding on Sarah's actions, he would've liked to know something of what she was up to.
"Why don't you take some guacamole?" Sarah said after it was clear that Charley wouldn't help.
Savannah made a face at the green mixture, pushing the bowl away. "It looks yucky."
"It's not."
"It looks that way," Savannah persisted. There was a bag of tortilla chips in front of her and she took a few, setting them on her plate. Then she reached for the bowl of salsa in the middle of the table.
"Uh-uh." Snagging the bowl before Savannah could get at it, Sarah shook her head no.
"But I want to try."
"Try the guacamole." The girl had never tasted a batch of hot salsa in her life, and it'd taken Sarah a month before she could eat more than three bites of this stuff without tearing up.
"Please?"
"Savannah," Charley began.
"Fine," Sarah interrupted, pushing the bowl to within Savannah's reach.
"Sarah-"
"Charley."
Charley fell silent. Savannah dunked her chip into the bowl and then popped it in her mouth. For a moment, there was no reaction. Then Savannah's cheeks changed color, turning a shade of red that closely matched her hair. Charley held back a smile as he watched the kid blink rapidly before moving her eyes towards the kitchen sink.
"Water only makes it worse," said Sarah, following the girl's eye line. She gave Savannah credit though. Her face might look completely ridiculous right now, but the kid wasn't panting, wasn't letting out exclamations of shock. "You okay?"
Savannah nodded mutely. She did not look okay.
Exchanging amused glances with Sarah, Charley hurriedly picked up Savannah's empty glass and went to the fridge. Filling it with milk, he passed her the glass and sat down again.
Sarah waited five seconds, noting the way Savannah's eyes stayed locked on the glass. She waited, and then she realized the game, the rules Savannah had created for it. Lifting her own drink, Sarah raised it in Charley's direction. "Happy Cinco de Mayo?"
"Cheers," he said with a grin, even though May was long over. He drank and so did Sarah, and because of Sarah, Savannah allowed herself to give in. She drained the glass in one long gulp and this time it was Sarah who refilled it.
"Next time," she said, putting the milk and some hastily procured bread slices in front of Savannah, "you listen if I tell you not to do something."
"She's going to throw up."
"No she won't," Charley argued. He was on the beach with Sarah again, but they weren't sparring this time. They were on the sand together, watching the sun blink red and orange against the ocean. Dinner was over, it would be night soon, and Sarah kept saying she needed to leave. Instead, she was next to him, watching Savannah throw Buddy's toys into the ocean. "But that dog is going to smell like wet dog, and he's going to jump in her bed, and then Savannah and the sheets and Buddy are all going to smell like wet dog. That won't be fun."
"I imagine not. All that running doesn't seem to be tiring her out."
"You're the one who got her hopped up on sugar," said Charley, thinking of the three churros Savannah wolfed down and hoping Sarah was wrong about the puking.
They fell silent, waving to Savannah as the girl demanded their attention. She threw a ball at the dog for roughly the twentieth time, and Buddy caught it again, just as he had all those other times. Savannah shrieked with the same joy she'd shown all along, then tore off down the beach with Buddy on her heels. It was the same show, over and over. Charley could watch all night, but wondered if Sarah was getting bored. Shifting to look at her, Charley was stunned by what he saw. She looked amazing in that moment. Remnants of the sun played beautifully against her face, hiding the paleness he sometimes saw there. She was watching Savannah's antics with a sort of rapt calm. Her lips quirked upward, Sarah appeared almost serene. It was a look Charley hadn't seen before. Not even in Nebraska, before she left. He wished the cell phone wasn't sitting in the living room somewhere. He wished that he got more calls, so he'd have reason to bring the phone out here. Charley wanted a camera in that moment, wanted to capture it forever. He'd never, ever seen that look on Sarah's face, and didn't know if he would again.
"You're staring at me," Sarah stated without looking away from Savannah.
She didn't sound especially irritated, but Charley looked away anyway, watching the dog run ahead of Savannah. "You've got sand in your hair."
She didn't and she knew that, and Charley's joke wasn't even funny. Sarah chuckled anyway, letting her eyes drift from Savannah and the dog, out towards the horizon. "John and I lived in a cabana on the beach for awhile, in Mexico."
Charley sucked in a silent breath. She didn't talk about John. He usually avoided talking about John, but Sarah never brought the subject up. "Must've been nice," he said, trying to keep his feelings out of his voice.
"Was," she confirmed, sounding a little distant. "He was happy there, I think." Sarah did her best not to think about the more recent trip to Mexico. About Riley, poor, stupid Riley. And Cromartie.
Glancing over, Charley saw her expression darken. "Were you?" he asked. "Happy?"
She shrugged, gaze still locked on the ocean. "I liked watching John be happy. We swam in the ocean every day, he built sandcastles. The sunsets were beautiful."
"Better than this?"
"No comparison. Not that I'm complaining about this one."
Charley nodded to himself. Sunset with John, sunset without, he supposed there really could be no comparison. "It's nice here though."
Sarah made an agreeable sort of noise. Her right hand rested in the sand, next to one of his. There was space between them, but not as much as before, when they could barely stand to face each other across a room.
"Nights like this, sunsets like this, you can almost forget," Charley mused. "About everything."
Sarah tensed up and went still. Turning her head for the first time in awhile, she looked at the space between them, saw how close their hands were. Then she closed her eyes and looked away.
Charley followed her gaze. Their fingers were almost touching and his wedding band was glinting in the sun. Suddenly Charley remembered. Michelle. There'd been so many places like this with Michelle, so many beaches. Dates, their honeymoon, anniversaries. He'd asked her about a beach when she was kidnapped, to confirm her identity. Charley pulled his hand up, clenching it on his knee and closing his eyes. He felt sick to his stomach and wished he hadn't taken so much at dinner. Just thinking about dinner made him sick. Sarah's voice was loud in his ear, and that didn't help things.
"Savannah! Come back up here!"
Charley opened his eyes to find the girl somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. She was far off along the beach and very close to the switch. Savannah did as she was told, knowing better than to argue with that tone. She hurried back towards them, Buddy trotting along several paces ahead.
"You told her about the switch?"
"Of course," Charley snapped.
"She knows to stay away?"
"I'm not stupid, Sarah." Savannah had been close to the switch. The switch that would blow the beach to nothing, activate the explosives they were sitting on.
"No," Sarah said after a moment. "But you forget things, don't you? And so does she."
"I don't forget the important stuff." Except he did. He'd forgotten where he was, why he was there in the first place. This whole damn night, he'd somehow forgotten that he was with Sarah Connor. He'd forgotten about the explosives, about why they were there, everything.
"No," Sarah argued, voice cold as she refuted Charley's claim. "You forget, you both do. You try, but you still forget."
"And you don't, you're infallible?"
"I don't," Sarah lied. She always forgot around them, always. Dinner was a mistake and she'd known it and she'd come here anyway. There wouldn't be any more mistakes. "I don't forget. I didn't forget in Mexico, and I wasn't happy. Every day, I'd stare off into the ocean waiting. Waiting for what I knew was coming. What's still coming."
"I know what's coming, Sarah. Experience, remember?" Charley continued to clench his left hand against his kneecap. Incongruously, his wedding ring felt tight and heavy, like it could cut off the circulation to his hand.
"Experience. Not compared to mine." Sarah got to her feet.
Charley stood up. Did she want a medal because she'd lost more? Was his loss that insignificant to her? "It's getting late, you should go."
"I should," Sarah confirmed as Buddy loped over to her, nuzzling at her hand. "Keep Savannah away from that switch, don't forget."
"Yeah," Charley replied in a voice that wasn't his. "Thanks for dinner."
"Yeah."
As the sun fell away and darkness came in its place, Charley watched her leave, barely hearing Savannah's approach, or her questions about what was wrong between him and Aunt Sarah.