DISCLAIMER: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and its characters are the property of James Cameron and Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for The Sarah Connor Chronicles Virtual Season Judgment Day Challenge.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To ralst31[at]yahoo.co.uk
Dopplegangers, Apocalypses, and Femslash, Oh My!
Sarah Connor was terrified.
In the years since she'd met Reese and been introduced to the horrors of a Skynet dominated future, she had known fear in abundance, but neither death nor nuclear holocaust had prepared her for the terror that had just been unleashed.
"Order, order!" The bespectacled blonde slammed the gavel onto the table and watched with relish as every woman in the room jumped, her glee soon melting as forty-three hand guns, twelve swords, two Agiels, a pair of Sais and a strange round killing thing were pointed in her direction. "Could we get this meeting started?" she asked timidly.
Sarah started to edge out of the room and away from whatever hell dimension she'd been sucked into. Stupid time machines, she'd known they were nothing but trouble, but she'd never imagined anything like this.
"We cannot leave."
Cameron's face revealed none of the fear that could so easily be read on her lover's face, but as Sarah looked closer, she could detect the barest hint of amusement, the very idea of which made her blood boil. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, girlie."
Had she been human or even Klingon, those words would have wounded, but Cameron was made of stronger stuff, quite literally, and she took Sarah's insult in stride. "Do you want to stop Judgement Day?" she questioned, her tone mild despite the apocalyptic nature of her enquiry.
"No, I thought I'd sell tickets!" Anger had quickly metamorphosed into fury and Sarah was milliseconds away from launching into a tirade of Biblical proportions when she was suddenly engulfed from behind.
"Luce! I thought you couldn't make it?" Sarah was quickly spun around and, before she could reach for the 9mm strapped to her thigh, she was re-engulfed in an embrace of epic proportions. "I've missed you," the woman sighed and was just about to pepper her beloved's neck with kisses when Cameron yanked her collar and sent her flying to the floor.
"Oi! No need for rough stuff," said an annoyed looking blonde as she bent down to help the hugger to her feet. "Any pairing disputes need to be kept outside, you know that, or do you want another OTP war on your hands?"
Cameron and Sarah shared a look of bewilderment. "We do not understand," said the machine.
"Luce? What's going on?" The hugger looked ready to cry.
"I'm not loose," Sarah insisted. "Okay, there was that one time in the South American jungle, but I hardly think -"
"She thinks you're someone else," said the blonde. "It happens." She shrugged, as if that explained everything. "I'm Scribbs, by the way, and you are?"
"Sarah Connor." It was said with all the gravitas afforded to the saviour of the known world and elicited not even a hint of recognition from Scribbs or the bemused looking hugger. "John's mother?" She was met with blank looks. "That's Cameron." Sarah nodded in her lover's direction. "She's a killer cyborg."
"Really?" Scribbs smiled. "I must tell Seven; she's been complaining about the lack of artificial life forms and bio-whatsit thingies ever since Six and Boomer ran off with Starbuck to that intergalactic femslash retreat."
The hugger nodded, as if the words made sense, and the Scribbs woman wasn't certifiable. "I'm Rachel." She held out her hand. "You're the spitting image of my girlfriend," she clarified, when Sarah refused to take her hand. "Sorry about the hugging."
It was Cameron who ended the awkward moment and shook Rachel's hand. "I apologise for throwing you to the ground."
In the background, a cheer rang out as the blonde waving the gavel was tackled by a shorter blonde in a leather miniskirt.
"I don't think these people can help," Sarah whispered to her companion.
Cameron secretly agreed, but they were there now and logic would suggest they at least asked. "Do you know how to stop Judgement Day?" she asked Scribbs.
"Judgement Day?" Scribbs took a step back. "You're not a Jehovah Witness, are you?"
"No." Sarah sounded defeated. "We were hoping you could help us prevent the destruction of mankind and rise of the machines." It was a sentence just like that, spoken fervently and with the added inflection of a live grenade, that had resulted in Sarah's stay in a maximum security psychiatric unit. She sighed, "Never mind."
Rachel's brow scrunched. "Do you mean an apocalypse?" Sarah nodded. "Why didn't you say?" She turned to survey the crowded room, and spotting her target, she placed her hands on her diaphragm and shouted, "Buffy, Faith, Willow, over here!"
Scribbs chuckled, her ears still ringing from the ungodly bellow. "If it's an apocalypse you want stopping, they're your girls, but I'd watch yourself with the redhead, as her girlfriends are a bit on the jealous side." With a wave and a grin, Scribbs said her farewells and took Rachel to meet her partner and devise a way to lure Luce to the next meeting.
Sarah turned her piercing gaze to the approaching threesome, her doubts raised as she spied the pointed wood sticks held threateningly in the women's hands. "Do you think they can really help us?" she asked Cameron.
The terminator shrugged. "In a realm where machines love and dopplegangers are commonplace, anything is possible."
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