A/N:

Hello my friends! Okay, this is my first attempt in a FanFiction. As I've already indicated in the synopsis, this is the Alternative Universe, so everything is possible. Also, my characters are OOC, obviously. Anyway, tell me what you think about the story: is it good, bad, interesting, boring, funny, ridiculous or whatever. Peace.

WARNING! English is not my native language, and I'm not from USA.

Ex Machina

Chapter One. A New Friend

Los Angeles, CA. February 28, 2008. 10:19 PM

The yellow late-sixties Mustang pulled into the bar's nearly empty parking lot, the rumble of its glasspiped exhaust cutting off abruptly as its driver keyed off and opened the door. The driver was much younger than the car he drove, possibly twenty-five. He was tall, about five-eleven, and athletic, with short dark hair and emerald eyes that swept the lot as if for possible threats before he locked up and headed inside.

The inside of the bar was as empty as the parking lot: only a couple tables were occupied. Three patrons filled seats at the bar, two watching TV and the third head-down on the bar, softly snoring. The young man chose his seat with care, close to the door and facing it, and as far from the other patrons as possible. Old habits die hard, he thought ruefully.

The man behind the bar, a fellow with a bushy gray mustache that matched his hair, eyed him, as if waiting for him to come to the bar, then came around to stand at his table.

"What can I get for you fella?"

"Whatever you've got on tap," he said.

"Sure. ID?"

The man shifted to reach his back pocket, and froze as he realized he wasn't sitting on his wallet.

The barkeep scowled. "Let me guess, left it at home?"

"Yes and no," the man said. It was sort of the truth, since his car seemed more like home than his apartment, and the jacket containing his wallet was on the seat.

The bartender glanced at one of the other occupied tables. "I've had this bar for twenty-five years, sonny. I'm not gonna lose my license serving a minor in front of an undercover cop."

The man pushed his chair back from the table. "It's in my car. I'll be right back."

He paused at the car with his key in the lock. Never get caught without ID. It was one of the first things Mom taught me, practically tattooed it to the inside of my eyelids. First time for everything, I guess. He opened the door, and had his hand on his jacket when he heard the scream from around the corner.

"HELP! Please, somebody help-"

His left hand snapped up into the hidden space under the dash above the steering column and came back down with a loaded H&K P2000. He drew the jacket over his forearm, concealing the weapon, and, closing the door quietly, rounded the building.

In the shadow of the building, two rough-looking men were struggling with a young woman pinned between them. The one behind her was holding her, one meaty paw clamping her wrists at the small of her back, the other over her mouth. Her eyes were huge with terror. She squirmed and whimpered as the second man worked at her belt buckle.

"Settle down," the rapist said as the buckle came free. He squeezed the girl's thigh and tugged at the button of her jeans, popping it off. "Just relax and enjoy it." He opened the zipper and knelt to pull her jeans down.

"Don't be a hero," his mother would say. "Don't stand out. Don't risk being noticed. You have to let things go."

I'm sorry Mom, but I can't let this happen. He felt a cold stillness settle over his face, hiding the anger. He moved closer. "Oi pricks!"

All three stopped. The one trying to pull off the girl's pants turned his head to look at him. The girl's eyes brightened, possibly with hope, but there seemed to be something more. Or maybe it was a faint reflection of the parking-lot lights that gave them a momentary bluish glow. The creep kneeling in front of her stood, hiding her behind his bulk, and turned toward him.

The attacker reached into his pocket and came out with a butterfly knife; he flipped it open, exposing the three-inch blade, and stepped toward him. "Don't be a hero. It's a good way to get hurt. If I was in your shoes, I'd forget it and walk on by." He stopped when he got close enough for a good look at the man's face, and the jacket-covered arm pointed at him.

"I'm not a hero," the man said, "just the right guy in the right place at the right time. And you're never gonna be in my shoes." He drew back the jacket to reveal the nine-millimeter. "How about you walk on by instead?"

The assailant's cockiness faded away as he studied the man's face, gauging his resolve. The man stared back. "Let her go," he said, "and get the hell out of here now. Or somebody is gonna get hurt."

The creep glanced back at his companion, who shook his head. He carefully folded his knife and returned it to his pocket. Then he raised his hands shoulder high and backed toward his partner, his eyes never leaving the armed man's face. "No harm no foul, man." The partner released the girl, who slumped against the wall of the building, and the two men carefully turned and walked briskly away. "Bet she's gonna be real grateful. Have fun."

The man watched them, gun raised and steady, until they were out of sight, then turned to the girl, who was trying with trembling fingers to buckle her belt over her vandalized and slightly gaping pants. He looked her over for the first time in the uncertain light. She was younger than he, early twenties maybe, and pretty, with big brown eyes and long chestnut hair. She was dressed light for a February in L.A.; in just a pair of tight black jeans, which were tucked into a black boots, and an overlong tee shirt, striped horizontally in green and black.

She shivered, whether from cold or shock he couldn't say. He stepped closer, watching her eyes, which rose to meet his. Unsure how she might react to the touch of a man right now, he gently put a hand on her shoulder. Using the soft voice he asked, "Are you okay?"

She stared up at the young man who had 'rescued' her.

-What should I say?

In her mind, a voice very like her own answered.

-Well, I suppose you could tell him you're operating at ninety-six percent efficiency. I'm sure he'd be impressed.

-Okay. She opened her mouth.

-NOOO! That was sarcasm.

-I know. I fooled you again.

-Here's what you do…

The girl stared silently at him for so long, he thought she wasn't going to answer. Then her eyes misted and she lunged at him, taking him back a step. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his shoulder. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Whoa, he thought, good grip. And I was wondering if she'd be afraid of a man's touch. He pressed his left forearm against the small of her back, returning her embrace but keeping the gun away from her. He rubbed between her shoulder blades with his other hand, trying to soothe and warm the still-shivering girl. "Shhh, shhh. Everything's fine. Nobody's gonna hurt you while I'm here."

-Impressive. I didn't expect much from you.

-My tear ducts are overloading. I have to purge them.

-So don't hold back. It's okay now.

The girl's eyes gushed, wetting his shirt. Her breath hitched, sobbing. He held her silently until she stilled. She took a deep breath and said, still into his shoulder, "You saved my life, I think." She gave him a squeeze. "I guess that makes you my hero."

–Aww, how sweet.

–Shush! Don't distract.

Her words warmed him, and he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 'You saved my life. You're my hero.' Maybe being the future savior of the human race isn't such a bad gig after all. He held her a little longer, until he began to wonder if they might stand here in the dark all night. He loosened his grip. The girl sensed his intent and backed up, hands trailing all the way around him before she let go. He saw that her cheeks were wet and smudged from her makeup, and without thought brushed his thumb across them.

"Thank you," she said, almost in a whisper.

-This is the fourth time. If you lay it on too thick, he'll get suspicious. Hell, you aren't the smartest learning computer, you're retar...

-Get lost!

He smiled again, "You are welcome. I'm John, by the way."

The girl smiled in return, "Cameron."

-And I'm Allison.

-He shouldn't know now.

-Unfortunately, you're right.

"Nice to meet you Cameron, given the circumstances," John said with a sad smile.

"You too. But I'm satisfied-" she stopped.

-He didn't mean the war, or how you met him for the first time, or other stuff, Cameron. He just said that he would prefer to meet you on the street, in a club, or wherever.

-Oh, thank you for explaining.

Seconds after, Cameron continued, "I mean ... Today is a good day ..." She shrugged her shoulders and giggled softly.

Okaaay… John smiled to cover his confusion. "Well, if you call this a good day, how do you describe a day when you're having fun, or just relaxing?"

The smile on the girl's face disappeared, "Nothing." Cameron hung her head and added in a whisper, "I have no such days."

-Well-Played, actress.

-I didn't play! It's true and you know it.

John's smile slowly faded away and he began to look for a solution in his head. Idiot. But how was I supposed to know? Come on, man. You're Connor, the future leader of the human resistance against the machines, right? What, can't cope with a single girl, huh? With such a fragile, beautiful ... Damn it!

"Maybe I should take you somewhere?" Like a hospital, or a police station.

She glanced at the wall, as if seeing through it into the bar. "Right here is okay."

John blinked. She just escaped being raped and killed by blind luck, and now she's offering me a date? "Uh, are you sure?"

-Taking him to a bar, Cameron? Really?

–Yes, Allison, really. I need to socialize with him, don't I? It's the closest suitable place. Perfectly logical.

-Logic doesn't always win. Don't forget, you have feelings.

-I never forget anything.

-Yeah, and that's your biggest problem.

"Yes, I'm sure. Shall we?" Cameron asked, and took John under his left arm.

"Well, okay." John turned and led her to the entrance. He opened the door and pointed out a gestured with his right hand. "Ladies first." Cameron smiled and walked into the bar. John took a moment and hid his gun in his waistband at the small of his back, and dropped the back of his shirt over it. Adjusting shirt, he put on his black leather jacket and went after the girl.

Once inside, Cameron paused and looked around her environment and found no threats.

-Old habits die hard, I guess?

-John's safety is always the primary goal.

-But what about you?

-I'm just a machine. My existence has no value.

-CAMERON!

-Okay. Maybe a little.

-A little? How dare ... You know, I'm done with this conversation. You're just as stubborn as John. You two are a great couple.

-Thank you.

-It's not meant to be a compliment!

-I know.

Inside, the only change was the program on the TV. The girl's scream hadn't penetrated the wall of the bar, apparently. John led Cameron to his table and pulled out a chair for her.

-Cameron, you need the restroom.

-Why?

-As soon as you see yourself in the mirror, you'll know.

"Please excuse me. I need to find the restroom," and with it, Cameron turned and headed to the restroom area. John watched her go, and sat. A few seconds later he heard a familiar voice, on the right.

"Jeez, how far away did you park your car?" The barkeep was back at his side.

John felt an unfocused resentment. If I hadn't left my jacket in the car, there'd be a corpse in the alley next to your building right now, and your lot would be taped off by the police come morning.

On the other hand, if you hadn't been a stickler for the rules and just poured me a beer… John reached into his jacket for his wallet. "Met a friend."

"Saw her come in." The man glanced at John's ID, and his eyebrows rose slightly. John tensed, but the man only said, "Well, Mr. Conrad, do you still want that draft?"

"You carry Carlsberg?"

"What kind of bar do you think this is?" The gray-haired man smiled. "Lucky for you a couple regulars are Russian expats. What about your girl?"

Cameron looked old enough to drink, but he didn't know what she liked, or if she drank at all. Besides, it didn't look like she was carrying ID; her jeans were so tight he didn't think she could fit a driver's license in the pocket without it printing. "Just water."

The man nodded and moved away. Half a minute later, he returned with a tray. He laid four coasters on the table and set glasses on two of them. From a dewy green bottle, he poured a pale yellow liquid, and then set the bottle on an empty coaster. Then he twisted the cap off a clear bottle of 'Dasani' and poured the contents into the other glass. Last, he produced a basket of peanuts and set it in the middle of the little table. "On the house." He left.

Nice. "Thanks," said John, took his glass, and made the first, but a big gulp. He closed his eyes and said to himself, Mmm ... I think Cameron doesn't mind... CAMERON! Poor girl, hope she'll be okay. She seems a bit odd, like-

"John?"

John shuddered, opened his eyes and saw the object of his thoughts, sitting in front of him. She'd washed up, and looked amazing even without makeup. Cameron tilted her head slightly, a look of childish curiosity written on her face.

"Sorry, zoned out." No one's been able to sneak up on me. He put the glass down on the table and added with a smile, "You know, you kind of startled me."

Cameron straightened and quickly shook her head, something like anxiety written on her face, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, I'm fine. Don't worry," John said soothingly. "I don't know what you like, so I ordered just the water for you.

"Thank you," Cameron took the glass, made a few sips, and then put it back. "I appreciate it," she added with a small smile.

"No problem," John returned the smile. Okay, I guess it's time for a heart conversation. "So, what's your story?"

"My Story?"

-He means...

"I mean, how it happened, that you end up in a dark alley with two punks, and almost ... You know," John said, but quickly added, "Of course, if you don't mind talking about it."

"Oh, thank you for explaining," Cameron replied with a sweet smile. "And no, I don't mind."

'Thank you for explaining'. That's so cute. So's her smile. He took another gulp of his Carlsberg. What am I thinking? I'm gonna hit on her twenty minutes after she was nearly raped and killed? But she seems completely over it already, like it never happened. So strange.

Cameron seemed to gather herself. "I'm from a little town in Northern California. I'm sure you've never heard of it. My mother died when I was born. When I was about four years old, my father went crazy, and I moved in with my mother's brother. After graduation, I worked as a waitress, because we had no money for college. After my eighteenth birthday, my uncle was killed in a car crash, and I was all alone. I decided that I didn't want to stay in my hometown. I saved enough money for bus fare and a couple months' rent and came to Los Angeles."

"Why LA?"

"It's as different from home as I could imagine." She grinned. "And I thought maybe if I was lucky, some movie guy would discover me and I could become an actress." The grin faded. "I was only off the bus for fifteen minutes before I got in trouble. Everything around the bus station was closed this time of night, and there were no cabs, so I started walking. I noticed this bar and thought I'd ask directions to the nearest hotel. I never got inside. They jumped me in the parking lot, dragged me into the alley. They took all my money, my ID, even my favorite purple leather jacket. Everything." She looked down. "Well, not everything. Thanks to you."

-Not bad.

-Thank you.

John looked at the table between them. "I'm sorry about your family. I know what that's like."

Cameron shifted her gaze on him. After a moment, their eyes met, and John saw Cameron looking at him expectantly. He asked, "Don't you have anybody else?"

"I don't have relatives or friends. I'm completely alone."

-Hey! What about me?

-You don't count.

-Oh screw you Cameron!

"Just like me," John said with a sad smile. He glanced around the bar, looking for something else to talk about, and saw a dartboard on the far wall. "Care for a game of darts?"

-Darts?

-Working...There.

On Cameron's HUD appeared rules of the game. After a few seconds she said, "I've never played before, but I know the basics and rules."

"Want to try? Say, one set?"

"With pleasure."

They approached the target, and John took out six darts. He turned and gave Cameron three of them. "Ladies first," John semi-smiled. Cameron responded equivalently and turned to the target. She calculated the angle, force throw, and sent first dart straight in tripling of twenty. Next two joined to the first one. After twelve minutes the set had been completed. After the victorious throw, Cameron turned to face John with smug grin.

"Three out of three. Are you sure, you want to be an actress? I mean, you should go to the World Darts Championship or something," John said with a chuckle.

"Beginner's luck."

They returned to their seats. John immediately took a swig of his drink, Cameron followed suit.

"Listen," John said. "You still need a place to stay tonight, right?"

-Allison, why are his pupils widening? And his breathing becoming ragged? Is he angry?

-Wait for it.

Cameron nodded and replied, "That's right."

"Well ... Uh ... I don't mind ... I mean ... If you want to ... You can stay … With me ..." John said haltingly. Jesus Christ. Connor, that was SO lame.

Cameron's look of curiosity was instantly replaced by joy and happiness. She smiled broadly and loudly exclaimed, "YES, THANK YOU!" She stood, rounded the table, and bent over him, then wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and deeply kissed John on the lips.

-What the hell are you doing, Cameron!?

-John Connor just gave me permission to live with him under the same roof. This means he loves me. Therefore, I can kiss...

-WHAT!? No, it doesn't mean shit! He just offered you a safe place to spend the night. You can't just kiss people whom you barely know.

-But I know him! This is John Connor, the future leader...

-Aargh…never mind. Just stop it and quickly come up with an excuse.

John's eyes widened from surprise. He instantly stiffened and froze. WHAT. THE. FUNK? She knows what she's doing? Certainly knows, but why? Maybe it has something to do with the shock she recently experienced? But damn! Her lips are so soft and sweet. Nobody can long resist such a temptation, even the future savior of mankind. Please, Cameron...

Cameron, as if reading his mind, immediately pulled away and looked down guiltily. A small blush appeared on her cheeks. "Sorry. Shouldn't have done that. My emotions are kind of out of control right now, I guess."

John stood up to reassure her, but blurted out, "It's all right. I don't mind." Cameron looked at him with mischief in her eyes and the corners of her mouth. "That's ... I mean ..." It was John's turn to blush slightly. He quickly raised his glass and finished his beer. "Check, please!"

From the bar, the owner said, "Told you, it's on the house. Happy birthday, sonny." He gave Cameron a quick smile. "Your friend cleans up pretty good."

One of the patrons at the bar turned to regard the couple. The smile he gave Cameron was almost a leer. "Maybe yours ain't the last present he's getting, Scotty."

The barkeep slapped him in the back of the head. "You wanna get cut off? Just open your mouth again before they leave."

"Sorry, sorry." The man returned his attention to the TV.

John slowly turned his gaze to Cameron and saw her smiling. She asked with curiosity, "Today is your Birthday?"

"Hmm… Yeah." Please don't kiss me again, because I won't have the will to resist.

-Don't you dare.

-Don't worry, I won't.

Cameron just hugged him. "Happy Birthday John!" and quickly released.

Yeah, as if life isn't tragic enough. With a wry smile he replied, "Thanks. I think it's time to go."

Cameron nodded and headed for the exit. John grabbed a handful of peanuts from the table and followed her. Coming out of the bar, he asked, "Are you cold? I can give you my jacket."

"No, I'm fine", she responded with small smile. The smile vanished when she added, "Like I said, I had my own purple leather jacket, but those, as you called them, punks, completely ripped and ruined it. But thank you for asking."

John nodded and walked over to the passenger seat. Opening the door, he invited Cameron inside. She stopped right in front of him.

-He's such a gentleman.

-Yes, nothing to do with the Future John.

"John, if you don't mind, I would suggest that is better for me to drive the car, since you drank a beer. Just one bottle, but nonetheless. Better safe than sorry."

"Are you sure that you're able to drive a car? I mean, after today's turmoil, will you be able to handle with Eleanor?"

Cameron frowned, "Eleanor?"

John chuckled and pointed his thumb to the car, "My Shelby GT500 aka Eleanor."

"Yes, I can. But why do you call your car Eleanor?"

-Why your name is Cameron?

-But this is different. I am a person. As you are.

-No, I just miscalculation, that SkyNet...

-Allison!

-Okay, okay.

John smiled, reached into his pocket and handed her the keys. "Tell you later," with this he got into the car and closed the door. Cameron walked around the car and slid behind the wheel. She put the key in the ignition and started the car. Old mustang showed that she still has all her might and power, despite age, and loudly roared.

Cameron's eyes widened as she smiled and turned toward John, "I like Eleanor." John grinned back. Cameron added, "You better buckle up. As I said, better safe than sorry."

Grin on his face was replaced by feigned irritation. Okay mom, Jeez. Cameron clipped her seat belt, John followed her example, and spoke, "Okay, tonight I'm the navigator." Cameron nodded slightly and buried the pedal to the floor. With a scream of tires, the muscle car darted off, leaving behind a cloud of white smoke, and was almost immediately breaking sixty.

"Whoa Cameron! Easy. Back it down. There is no need to rush." And no need to be tearing down an empty city street at twice the legal limit, in a car you can hear coming from five blocks away at a time when every cop in the area is looking for reckless operators stumbling home from the bars.

"Sorry. I just liked the sound of the engine."

He smiled warmly and nodded. They drove for about ten minutes in silence. John was deep in thought. Cameron decided to speak.

"So, why Eleanor?"

"Uh? Oh right. Well, apparently you haven't watched the movie 'Gone in Sixty Seconds', with Cage in the lead role?"

Cameron shook her head, "No."

John quickly told the plot of the movie, "And the last car that he needs to steal was a Shelby Mustang '67. Eleanor. Not a bad movie, although, I much more prefer the original one, which was filmed in 1974. In any case, after I watched it, I literally fell in love with Eleanor. But, I had to wait a long time, before I found this baby and bought her for forty-two grand. Good condition, only need to repaint and other trifles. But hey, I'm working on it," John grinned.

Cameron looked at John and smiled, "Thank you for explaining." Then she focused back on driving.

Again, this lovely smile and cute phrase. She's so innocent and mysterious, but at the same time careful and caring. I like it. I like her.

A few more minutes of silence, but this time John decided to break it. Looking through the windshield ahead, he spoke.

"You know, my father died in the war before I was born. He was a hero. Then, July third, two thousand and three, I lost my mother. Leukemia. She was a strong woman. Real fighter. But even she couldn't beat a cancer. And I couldn't do anything about it. Since then I've been on my own." With a sigh he added, "At least we have something in common. Although, if I were you, I would run as far as possible."

They stopped at the traffic light. Cameron took the opportunity and looked at him with a sad expression, "I'm sorry for your loss. But life goes on." She shook her head with a half-smile, "And death doesn't scare me." Finally, her smile widened and reached her eyes, "Plus, you look like a decent guy."

John looked at her and returned the smile, "Thanks. Yeah, I know. I mean, everything has the end, right? So I just need to get over it." He checked the surroundings and added, "By the way, we're almost on spot. At the next turn go right, then two hundred yards and right again, straight into the underground parking."

After seven minutes, they were in place. Cameron killed the engine and handed the keys to John. They got out of the car and headed to the elevator at the far wall. Climbed up to the second floor, they came to the apartment with a sign 'Four'. John opened the door and again used the 'ladies first' thing.

Cameron came in and looked around. The apartment was small and plain. Average living room with comfortable-looking sofa. Moderate flat screen TV on the wall opposite it. Small kitchen, with a neat table and two chairs, and everything you need. And just two doors, one of which, apparently, was the bathroom, and another one, the bedroom.

John closed the door behind and announced, "Home, sweet home."

Cameron turned to face him, "Small but cozy. I like it."

John smiled and nodded his head, "Look, it's been a hard and a long day, so if you don't mind, I'll take a shower and go straight to the bed. On the sofa, I mean. So, be my guest."

"No, I can't allow you that. I'll take the couch. Today is your Birthday." John opened his mouth to argue, but Cameron quickly interrupted him, "Please. I insist."

He stood with an open mouth for a few seconds, and then finally said, "Are you sure? Because I still think it's not right..."

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Cameron assured him with a small smile.

John sighed and said, "Okay." With that, he went to his bedroom. Inside, he took off his jacket and folded it neatly on the chair. He took out his H&K P2000, and hid it under the pillow. Going to the closet he took a clean black tee shirt, with pair boxer briefs of the same color, and slightly baggy grey sweatpants. He headed to the bathroom, but after he opened the bedroom door, he literally jumped back. Cameron stood in the doorway, right in front of him.

"HOLY SHIT!" He swallowed hard. "You scared me to death. Please, don't do that."

"I'm sorry, John. I didn't-"

"It's all right. You want something?"

"Yes. Do you have an extra blanket and pillow?"

Right, how I forgot. John went to the bed, grabbed one of the two pillows and returned to Cameron, "Here. There's a blanket on the couch."

"Thank you."

Cameron walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. John entered to the bathroom.

-I also need a shower. Allison, do you think this would be acceptable, if I joined to him?

-Are you fucking kidding me? Of course not! You'll freak him out.

-…

-Cameron, wait your turn.

-…

-CAMERON!

-Fine.

Approximately ten minutes later John came out, dressed in clean clothes, and feeling himself fresher than before. Cameron immediately got up from her seat on the couch and walked over to him.

"John, can I ask you something?"

He swallowed and said, "Of course. What do you want?"

"I need a shower too. Could I borrow something to wear?"

"No problem. Be right back."

John entered his room, went to the closet and pulled out a crystal white tee shirt and black sweat pants. Also he decided that a clean towel wouldn't hurt. Returning to the living room, he handed them to Cameron.

"Thank you John. Goodnight," Cameron leaned over and kissed him on the left cheek. Then she smiled and headed into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her. John stood for a few seconds, staring blankly at the door.

"Goodnight, Cameron," he pulled himself together, shook his head and went into his bedroom. Closing the door, he plopped down on the bed.

He listened to the hiss of the shower and tiny splashing sounds, and swallowed as he imagined Cameron, her hair soaked, turning naked under the showerhead.

Best. Birthday. Ever. He fell asleep.

TBC...

Just to be clear - Allison has NO power over Cameron.

The cover image belongs to MikEvil.