Spirit of Inquiry
The System was huge.
It was a fact that Flynn hadn't properly appreciated while they were dodging innumerable hazards in their stolen lightcycles, crossing whole sectors in brief moments. Here, though, the terrain was too rough to drive in, and they were stuck picking their way across a vast fragmented plane on foot, clambering down cratered surfaces and over huge chunks of inert data.
He desperately wanted to see the coding for this area - and lord knew he was never going to be able to look at any program's code the same way again. There was something going on here that science couldn't account for, and he itched to get his fingers in it. Where in Alan's work was the grim set of Tron's jaw, that fleeting smile when they overcame some obstacle, the strong hand that pulled both his companions over the tough bits without breaking a sweat? What would Ram's laughter look like in letters on a screen - how did you code a sense of humor; how did you code a heart? What was he, in the end, out of the stream of information that had stranded him here; how different from the Users, really, were the children of their minds-
He had a feeling he knew what he was going to be doing for the rest of his life... if said life didn't end up being extremely short.
In the meantime, Tron was too focused on his goal to care for conversation and Ram had apparently been programmed to ask really good questions, so it was pretty hard to pump him for information without giving too much away. Flynn, with nothing to do but hike and think, came to the shocking conclusion that his curiosity was going to drive him mad if he didn't find something to sink his teeth into.
When Ram's boot slipped halfway up a particularly slick fragment of terrain, and a quick grab at the slim program triggered a bucking squirm as his hand slid under Ram's arm, he found it.
How in the name of all sanity could a program be ticklish?
Flynn mulled that over for several minutes before concluding that he needed more data. Accordingly, the next time they reached an obstacle, he helpfully boosted Ram up before him, studying in fascination how his underarm circuitry flared brighter when prodded. The way Ram's muscles jumped of their own accord was also of interest. At the next opportunity, he "tripped" and poked Ram's neck. Then he got an arm around him and casually tickled his side, just briefly enough that it might not have been deliberate. The data were rapidly accumulating. He started to wonder if programs' boots came off.
Ram had given him an odd look or two, but on the whole seemed to be writing it all off as more of the strange behavior he'd noticed before. Flynn smiled blandly. That's right, buddy, I'm just a weird but harmless fellow program.
He was congratulating himself on his research stratagems as they clambered over the next low ridge. Sliding down first, he reached over to help Ram down, but instead of swinging his feet around, Ram seemed to lose his balance and slip backwards, clutching at Flynn for balance. His fingers dug in right at the side seams in Flynn's armor and something like lightning stitched up his ribs, not unpleasant but not exactly the same as the sensation would have been in his own world. Flynn yelped and squirmed away, noting ruefully that apparently Users weren't exempt from digital ticklishness either.
Too late, he saw the dangerous twist in Ram's smile.
Launching off the rock, the little program landed squarely on Flynn's chest, pinning him down and launching a gleeful tickle attack that fully paid back every poke and prod he'd been given.
Flynn writhed. Flynn howled. Ram hadn't survived the Game Grid for nothing; he expertly dodged or deflected every attempt at retaliation, and didn't stop until Tron, who had apparently been oblivious up till then, loomed over them and demanded, "What are you two doing?"
"Just a little scientific experiment," gasped Flynn.
"Yeah," grinned Ram. "Flynn here keeps coming up with all these bright ideas."
"Worst idea ever," Flynn groaned, letting his head fall back. His nerves, or whatever he had here, were still twitching. "If there were tickle games back there, you'd be all over them. Remind me not to write any till I get home, okay?"
Ram, rolling his eyes at this latest bout of gibberish from his eccentric fellow conscript, smirked and tickled him again.
Tron tried to look stern, but his voice was tinged with amusement and fond exasperation. "Well, if this experiment is more important than the IO tower..."
"You can go ahead," said Ram brightly, looking up. "We'll catch up to you."
"You bet we will." And Flynn, taking advantage of the distraction and his own superior weight, flipped Ram over on his back and tickled him until they were both laughing too hard to breathe.
When they finally rose, stumbling, whooping, and clinging to one another for support, Tron had already gone a good way ahead. He was moving slowly, though - less than half the pace he'd set before, giving them plenty of opportunity to make up the ground they'd lost.
Well, what do you know. The guy has a heart after all.
Flynn looked at Ram, asking a silent question. Ram flicked a glance at Tron and then, his eyes dancing, answered with a slow, meaningful nod.
"Hey, Tron!" yelled Flynn. "Wait up!"
This was probably going to hurt. But hey, man. It was all for science.
(The meme prompt was: "Flynn and Ram have a tickle fight. An entirely innocent tickle fight, I just want sillies okay."
Somebody pointed me there, and I couldn't not fill it. :D)