Outside, someone's watching Sarkissian, through the windshield of a car with a Virgin Mary statuette on the dash, exit the Connor Compound.

Over at the science museum, John stares at a tyrannosaurus skeleton. "You haven't spoken for twenty-eight minutes," says Cameron. John, clearly in some kind of snit, says it's nothing. And under absolutely no prodding from Cameron, John totally folds and is all, "Well, if you must know..." and explains that tomorrow is his birthday. Except Cameron doesn't have any idea what a birthday is, and can I ask just what exactly Terminators are programmed with, and what's the point of trying to get them to blend in with humans when they're not even equipped with understanding of basic human rites like birthdays? He figures Sarah forgot, and last year he got flak jacket ("That's a tight present," says Cameron helpfully), and this is technically his 24th birthday, only he time-traveled over eight years, and thank god Cameron interrupts his whining to ask if she has a birthday. "Were you born?" asks John, and Cameron says she was built, and John says maybe she has a "built-day" and now I kind of wish the tyrannosaurus would fall on them and shut them up.