Hey, everyone! My name is Erin. So, this is my first TSCC fic. I was going for something subtle and not too complex. And of course Sarah/Derek, because I just love them. Especially the Derek part -wink-. I really tried to keep Sarah in character, and I'm not sure if I did, so please review and tell me if I did or not. Hmm...Enjoy.

He used to be there, all the time. He would point out her flaws, what she should be doing, and how to do it. Sarah once said she didn't know why she didn't shoot him in the leg. But, then she'd only have to help him get better. Because, even though she never admitted it, she needed him. Needed him to help her, to protect John, to get information from and send on missions. She needed him there to remind her that she could never stop, or even slow down. That the future was there, and it even sent back proof.

At the other house, when he had been injured, shot in place of John, he had been unable to leave whenever he wanted. At night, sometimes Sarah would wake up at the little of noises. Either Cameron walking around or the noises the old house made. She would get up and make a quick check-up. There he would be, sleeping deeply on the couch, his shirt where he had been shot stained red. And she felt comforted when she saw him there, sleeping. It was nice knowing someone else was there to protect her or her son. That someone could know what was going on and react alertly, just like her. He was harsher; more willing to make those unessicary kills, but Sarah was relieved about that. Even though she complained about that to him, she secretly felt grateful that someone could do the things she couldn't. Cameron was there to do that, Sarah knew, but she trusted Derek more, for obvious reasons. Because if Cameron tripped out and tried to hurt John or her, Derek would be there to stop her. Sarah needed him there.

Even if he was a complete pain in the ass. Even if he sometimes looked at her like he was her superior. Even if he did sneak off in the middle of the night, and not tell her where he was going. Even if she wished it was Kyle there, instead of Derek.

Sarah began to wake up every night, as if her mind was programmed to do so. She would check on John first, of course, but then she would go find Derek. When he was there, sleeping soundly despite the fact that she knew if she even whispered his name he would be jumping up, reaching for the gun. A sense of comfort would wash over her, and she loved that feeling. Comfort. She didn't feel it much. She found it was better not to, it would make her less alert and sharp. But she still craved it like every normal person. So, she would stand in the doorway, watching his chest rise and fall as he breathed even, and slow, sleeping breaths.

Sarah recalled one night when she been standing there, arms hanging loosely at her sides and she stared calmly at Derek's sleeping form. Cameron had silently walked in and Sarah had done her best to try to act like she hadn't been standing there long, snapping her eyes to Cameron and crossing her arms, standing up straight.

"What are you doing?" Cameron had asked, in that flat dead tone only a machine could have.

"Checking everything is fine." Sarah snapped. Her eyes flickered to Derek as his breathing quickened and he rolled over onto his side, wincing slightly, his hand moving to the red stain of blood. Sarah pushed past Cameron and moved down the hallway.

"You don't have to. I was doing that." Cameron explained to her.

"I don't trust you." Sarah said, stopping at her bedroom door and turning to look harshly at Cameron, who had followed her.

"Your heart rate quickened, and you stood in a defensive stance when I saw you watching him." Cameron confronted her, and Sarah wondered if she was simply stating a fact, or hanging the information over Sarah's head, teasingly, like a normal teenager girl would. Sarah tilted her head, her eyes boring into Camerons fake ones.

"I was making sure he was okay. Like I said, checking everything was fine." Sarah snapped, her hand already heading for the knob.

Cameron held her gave for a long moment before nodding. "I see." She said. Sarah hurried into her room, annoyed that Cameron had questioned her like that. After that night, Sarah had been careful not to lose herself and stare at him again during the night. She shook the idea that Derek could provide her such a feeling of comfort like that, and tried to make herself hardly glance at him during her nightly check-ups. It was harder to sleep at night, but Sarah discarded that telling herself it was simply because she was more alert. She couldn't lose herself like that. Loose Sarah Connor, the tough mother of the legend John Connor. She couldn't be Sarah Baum, or whatever her alias name was at the moment.

But when they had moved into the new house, and Derek had healed sufficiently, he started leaving a lot more. Soon, he would spend whole nights away from them. Sarah tried not to confront him about it. He was an adult, a man; he didn't have to stay in the house all day. He could go out and do his own business, whether it had to do with Sarah and John or not. He hadn't led any cyborgs and danger their way doing this, and knowing Derek, it wasn't likely he would anytime soon.

Still, when Sarah would wake up in the middle of the night, restless, and he wouldn't be there sleeping on the couch, she felt disappointed. Sometimes even, she would go and sit down on the couch herself. She didn't know what she was accomplishing doing that, but it made her feel a little better that the couch was being occupied, even if it wasn't by who she wanted it to be by.

Until he had been gone four nights in a row and Sarah began losing a lot of sleep, tossing and turning, feeling vulnerable and unsafe. Not like when she would see him there, ready to protect her. Ready to take a bullet for her or even tell her that the house was secure. This feeling of vulnerability was becoming unbearable, and she sat there on the edge of the bed, gun in hand, eyes on the door crack for hours at a time during the nights.

On the fifth night that she had gone to bed without him settling on the couch, and instead heading out the door, she got out of bed to perform her check-up. She put her gun between the strap of her flannel pants and her lower back; she silently snuck out of the room. Checking on John was a nessicity. He was sleeping soundly in the small little boy bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and toy trucks. At least he hadn't snuck out to spend time with Riley. The living room where the cold, desolate couch stood, was secured...and Derek-less.

Doubt filled her, and she slowly moved to sit down on it, when a noise coming from the kitchen made her jump and pull her gun out. Slowly, walking on the balls of her feet, she inched toward the archway. She saw a shadow dance across the visible wall in the kitchen. Taking long strides to cross the floor that separated her from potential danger, she pulled the gun up to eye level, her finger moving to the trigger.

She jumped through the archway and into the kitchen, eyes locking onto the back of a man.

"I expected to see you sooner, Sarah." Derek told her, turning around with that smirk she hated. He was looking at her like he was superior, and Sarah hesitated to lower the gun.

"And I didn't expect to see you at all. Shouldn't you be off doing whatever it is you've been doing lately?" She asked, harshly, moving closer to stand on the opposite side of the counter of him.

"Why? Do you miss me?" He asked, and Sarah noted he sounded a little irritable by something she didn't know.

"I don't like people creeping around the house in the middle of the night." Sarah corrected, her gaze staying harsh.

"Coming from someone who does enough creeping for two people." He told her, humor in his voice even when his face stayed blank, if not annoyed.

The silence filled in the air and Sarah was forced to look away. Derek moved to the fridge and opened it, retrieving two water bottles, handing on over to her. Sarah watched as he sipped at his before she opened hers. After a moment, Sarah spoke. "Why are you here, Derek?"

He stared at her for a moment, but Sarah was almost as tough as she led everyone to believe and stared back evenly. "To protect John, and you." He said, tossing the last two words on casually.

"I don't need you to protect me." Sarah told him, defensively. A little voice in the back of her mind teased, so that's why you can't sleep without knowing he's in the other room, huh?

"Okay." He told her, shrugging. "But I'm still here to protect John. Might as well protect you as well."

Sarah looked away from him and found a new fascination in the piece of wallpaper that was peeling in the corner by the fridge. Unfortunately, it could only be so interesting and her eyes flickered back to Derek, but he wasn't watching her. Instead he was slowly spinning the water bottle around in his hands, watching it. But Sarah had a feeling it wasn't the water bottle he was seeing. They stood silence for a while longer. Sarah liked the way they could do that, be near each other and not speak, without it being awkward. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, breathing in the comfort that filled her. She knew she should hate that feeling. Hate him for the way he gave her that feeling. But instead, just for a moment with her eyes closed oblivious to the reality of the world and the moment, she listened to the water bottle scrap against the counter as he spun it, and his deep, even breathing. She knew as long as she didn't open her eyes, she'd stay in this feeling. But Sarah knew better than to.

Opening her eyes, Derek was staring at her. With those cold, scrutinizing eyes that were always trying to break down her barriers. "It's okay, you know." He told her, and her eyebrows furrowed. "To feel, just for a second, safe."

"We're never safe." Sarah answered harshly, using the words she had repeated so religiously to John.

"Doesn't mean you can't feel safe." He explained. "I mean, not all the time. But those moments are part of being human." His eyes studied her face, and she became self-conscious.

"Are you going to be staying the rest of the night, or leaving?" Sarah asked him, changing the subject.

He sighed. Sarah contemplated how different Derek seemed to sigh from anyone else. There didn't seem to be anything different that she could point out, but it was different to her. Maybe she was just making things up. "I haven't decided." For a moment Sarah had forgotten what she had asked him in the first place. Shaking her head slightly to herself, she remembered. Suddenly her muscles seemed to become weak and sore, and her shoulders slumped. Had she been this tired the whole time?

"You look like crap." He stated, blankly.

"Thanks." Sarah responded sarcastically.

"What has been keeping you up?" He asked her.

"Nothing." She answered defensively, as she shifted. "Maybe if you were here more you'd know."

Derek smiled, and even almost laughed. "I've been busy, I guess."

"Doing what?" Sarah questioned.

"It's not important to you." He told her sternly. Obvious she wouldn't be finding out tonight. But she was making it a mission to. Whatever it was, it was taking Derek from them and somewhere inside her, somewhere she wouldn't admit or even know, she didn't like that. Sighing, she shifted and moved back. She hadn't realized how close they had been leaning towards each other. He stood up straight, and Sarah screwed the lid back onto the half empty water bottle.

"It is more than you know." Sarah told him as she took a step back. She didn't give him a second glance as she walked out of the kitchen and back to her room.

-

Later that night, Sarah woke up. She lay in bed restlessly for a few moments before getting out. It didn't seem the night was providing her with much sleep, but that didn't seem new. Slowly, she creeped into the living room, already having memorized which spots on the floor squeaked. She stopped short when she saw the solid figure lying in the couch. She had grown used to, but not attached to, the image of the lonely couch. Taking a few more cautious steps toward him, she stopped by the entrance and leaned against the white column. His chest slowly rose and fell rhythmically, and she could almost imagine the sound of his heart beating inside. It didn't seem like her to be to effected by him this way, but she couldn't stop it.

He rolled over on to his side, facing her, and rested his face on his arm, sighing. She noticed he wasn't sleeping with a blanket. Quietly stepping over to the armoire, she pulled it open and took out a warm dark grey fleece blanket. Walking over to him, she unfolded the blanket and hesitated draping it over him. It seemed like an incredibly affectionate thing to do and she felt like doubling back. She had done this more times then she could count to John, and to be caught dead by the Sarah Connor in her mind, she didn't know what she should do.

But the way he shifted, nuzzling his arm and the couch pillow with his face, Sarah could almost picture John doing the same thing and the blanket seemed to gently slip from her fingers and over him. He responded immediately, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up, closer to him.

Sighing, she shook her head and turned to walk back upstairs. She needed to stop this. Needed to stay Sarah Connor. Which meant not feeling so comforted by Derek's presence. Or worse, getting blankets for him in the middle of the night, like he's some kind of child.

It didn't matter that it's not what she wanted.