AN: First off, WOW, I was not expecting this story to be as popular as it is. Thank you all for the support and the reviews! You guys are too kind!

I also apologize for the slow update, my real life went down the TUBES after I posted the first chapter. I ended up changing jobs (am still in the middle of that process) so my updates will be even slower than usual. Thanks for understanding!

Chapter 2

Alan did not program like Kevin did. That was hardly surprising, considering how different the two men had always been.

Flynn was prone to spontaneous inspiration and fits of intense programming, only to be stuck in a phase of trial and error afterwards to fix any patches he had missed the first time around. He was a brilliant man and one of the best programmers Alan knew, but his eagerness to see the end result often made him careless.

Alan always took the slow and steady approach. His programming was solid, repetitive and –as Kevin sometimes described it- boring as all hell. Alan didn't see it that way. He saw himself as careful; he always made sure to triple read any patch of code before moving on to the next patch, and he always did another run-through before he shut the computer at the end of every working day. It took him much longer to create Tron than it took Kevin to create either Clus, mainly because he knew he was pitting his program against an MCP and took painstakingly care to make sure it was glitch-free before he activated it.

Sam noticed this and had wondered aloud if that was where his father had gone wrong with Clu. If Kevin had been less rushed to create a system administrator for the Grid, or perhaps less in love with the idea of having partners to help him, he may have taken more care in creating Clu. Compared to other Programs like Yori, Clu lacked the flexibility to be open-minded and feel compassion for Programs that were different from himself. Had that been due to carelessness on Kevin's part, or some strange, spontaneous evolution that any User had no control over?

Lost in thought, Alan barely noticed when the door hissed open. "Is it Lora?" he asked without looking up. His brows furrowed in concentration as his fingers flew across the code swirling around Tron's floating holographic face. "Damn, I probably missed dinner again. I suppose we'll have to tell her that—"

He paused, suddenly very much aware that the high-heeled boots he could see in his peripheral vision did not belong to Sam Flynn.

He snapped to attention. "Hello, Quorra."

The dark-haired Program stood poised at the doorway, her hands balancing a tray of food that had no doubt been digitzied by Sam from the real world. Every ounce of her attention, however, settled on Tron and stayed there.

Alan immediately felt on edge. His eyes darted toward Tron's form, then back to Quorra. Damn. Damn damn damn. He had not prepared for this.

Sam had gone to great lengths to emphasize that Quorra was the last ISO, the sole remnant of what Kevin had called "the Miracle". She had undoubtedly witnessed the Purge first-hand and -if her willingness to battle Clu and Rinzler was any indication- she knew whom was responsible for the death of her people.

"Quorra," Alan repeated, louder than necessary, "Is that for me?" He hoped he sounded more calm than he felt.

The ISO blinked and turned to stare at him, as if just noticing that he was in the room. "Ah, y-yes, of course," she said quickly. She carried the tray over carefully, visibly embarassed. "Sam said that you often forget to eat, so I brought you dinner."

"Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you." It took every ounce of Alan's self-control to keep his voice steady as he reached out to take the tray.

Instantly, Quorra's attention was gone again, like a cat that had discovered a new toy. She seemed unable to keep her gaze off of Tron and her eyes glinted with emotions that Alan could not read.

Alan found himself wondering just how easy it would be for her to reach back, unhinge her disk, take a few steps forward and- No. Not on my watch. If Sam's tales of Quorra's bravery were true, Alan knew he didn't stand a chance against a warrior hell-bent on avenging her people, but he wasn't going to stand by and do nothing. Besides, Tron was under his protection now, and Alan Bradley was not one to walk away from those that needed him.

"Quorra," he said again, keeping his voice as gentle and casual as possible, "Would you like to share my meal? There's more than enough here for both of us." He gestured toward the seat across the table.

Quorra was visibly surprised by the offer but nodded instantly, perhaps too polite to decline a meal with a User. Alan had a sneaking suspicion that she found comfort in the fact that he –with white hair and black robes- looked convincingly like Kevin Flynn, but he said nothing. If Kevin's influence meant that Quorra was going to listen to him than she would be otherwise, he wasn't going to complain.

Before the ISO could sit, the man held up one hand to stop her. "Your disk, if you will." Decades of practicing his poker face with Encom's board was the only reason Alan could keep a straight face. He didn't want to mislead Quorra because he found her innocence endearing, but she didn't need to know what was on his mind right now.

Quorra tilted her head, puzzled. "Why?"

Alan held up Tron's disk and made a show of turning it off before he settled it by his elbow. He reached around his own back and set his own disk on top of Tron's. "No work at the dinner table," he quipped with what he hoped was a convincing smile. Lora would be so proud of me for saying that.

Quorra gave him a long look, perhaps thinking that this was another bout of strange 'User logic'. After a tense moment, she handed over her disk without another word.

Alan internally sighed with relief as he took it. That's one crisis taken care of, he thought as he carefully moved the three disks out of the way. He made sure to keep them on his side of the table rather than Quorra's –not that he thought she would attack him outright, but because he simply couldn't risk it. Not that it would slow her down, he grimly noted, She'd be up and running before I'm even out of my chair.

Picking up his fork, he began to eat in silence. He was grateful to see Quorra following his example, but his relief soon turned to exasperation. The ISO still repeatedly glanced at Tron out of the corner of her eyes and was only half-focused on her food. Alan wasn't sure if it was because she was a positively dismal actress or because she simply wasn't bothering to hide the gesture.

Eventually, he sighed and adopted his best fatherly voice. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Quorra's head snapped around and she stared at him like a deer caught in deadlights.

Alan was unperturbed and continued to eat. He had enough experience with kids -particularly difficult ones like Sam- to know that an innocent face was usually the first sign of guilt.

Eventually, the ISO looked down at her plate, visibly discomfited. "I-I haven't seen him without the helmet on in... a very long time."

Alan's interest was piqued. "You knew him? Before... everything?"Strange, it was easy to forget that Quorra had existed on the Grid long enough to remember Tron before he became Rinzler. The ISO didn't speak much about that period of time, not even to Sam.

The ISO's smile was small but fond. "Yes," she confessed. "He was... kind. To me, to everyone."

Of course he was. Alan felt a twinge of bittersweet pride. "Will you tell me about him?" he requested gently, "I'm obviously a few decades late."

Quorra seemed torn between confusion and sympathy. She had spent so long with Kevin Flynn that she often forgot that most Users do not know about and have never met their Programs.

Eventually, her eyes lowered to the table, distant and unfocused. "When we ISOs first came out of the Sea," she recalled slowly, "we wandered around the coast with no aim, no goal. Eventually, we banded together and headed toward the only light source we could see, which ended up being the foundations of Tron City. The first beings we met there were the Creator, Tron and Clu.

"We immediately knew that Flynn was different. It's like he was a... a blank void, a walking emptiness. We couldn't read him, couldn't sense him, couldn't even tell that he was there unless we saw him with our own eyes. I didn't know at the time that it was because he wasn't written in code."

"Is that what we feel like to Programs?" Alan mused aloud with a raised eyebrow.

Quorra nodded. "I remember being frightened of him, but he didn't give us a chance to run away. He was all over us in an instant," she remembered with a chuckle, "We didn't understand half the things he said, but we could tell that he was happy to see us. Tron came over next and he was," she struggled for words, "also different. Like us, but not like us."

"A Basic?" Alan offered.

"Yes, a Basic. He had a purpose, and his signature was clean, powerful. We didn't fear him like we did the Creator, and he was much kinder to us than Clu ever was."

The ISO suddenly looked bashful. "I thought he was so beautiful," she whispered, "I-I didn't realize that he was built to look like you."

Alan couldn't help but laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Quorra grinned. "I wasn't the only one to feel that way. In the beginning, we ISOs liked Tron more than we liked Clu or Flynn. Flynn was confusing to be around and he disappeared often. Clu didn't like us from the start and didn't usually seek us out. Tron helped clothe us, taught us how to navigate the city and how to live on the Grid. He translated our needs to Flynn, because the Creator did not understand the basic needs of a Program without a purpose.

"Flynn explained to us later that Tron was a security program, one that was written to protect others and to fight for the Users. We didn't understand any of that, so we simply called him our Protector."

"The Protector, the Administrator, and the Creator," Alan mused wistfully. "What a trio those three must've been."

Quorra's smile widened. "It was quite fun to be around them back then," she agreed with a spark of child-like enthusiasm, "Flynn had the best stories about the User world and I learned a lot from watching Tron and Clu spar."

"They taught you how to fight?" Alan's eyebrows disappeared toward his hairline. The irony of that was just... too bizarre.

"Not Clu, no. He never willingly taught us anything." Quorra's voice was suddenly bitter, but the tone disappeared quickly. "But Tron taught us some basic things, like how to throw our disks. I was awful at it, but he was very patient. He didn't want us to be unprotected in case there was a gridbug attack and he was elsewhere."

Alan nodded with approval. He was becoming more and more fond of Tron by the minute, and he hadn't even had a word to share with the guy.

Quorra giggled, but the sound was quiet and wistful. "Tron used to call me 'the little troublemaker'. He knew I was prone to getting into trouble if he or the other ISOs weren't watching."

"Sounds like Sam, really," Alan chuckled.

The ISO looked pleased with the comparison. "Flynn said that, too! He said I was always where I shouldn't be, which is probably why-" She stopped suddenly.

Alan leaned forward, worried. "Quorra?"

The Program looked down at her lap, suddenly deathly quiet. "Which is probably why I survived," she finished softly.

Alan swallowed harshly. "I don't understand."

"I-I was trying to get into a meeting that I wasn't invited to. Radia -our leader- was there, because Flynn was going to name her Co-Administrator along with Clu. Tron saw me wandering around and sent a System Monitor after me to keep me out of trouble." She clenched her fists, as if the next few memories were particularly painful. "There was a virus attack in the middle of the ceremony. It was... so sudden. None of us saw it coming. I wasn't even sure what was going on before I started seeing infected ISOs and Basics everywhere. I saw Tron leading Flynn to the Portal and I followed them, since I thought they had a plan about what to do. They... were attacked by Clu and his goons along the way." Her voice shook and she had to take a deep breath before she continued.

"It was awful," she whispered, "I couldn't hear anything, but I saw Tron fighting the Black Guards as Flynn ran toward the Portal. Clu went after him, so Tron went after him. I've never seen them fight like that. They've sparred before, but that time, they were really fighting. Clu was trying so hard to get to Flynn, and Tron was hanging on to him, trying to hold him back. Then I saw a flash of light and... and suddenly it was just Clu standing there with his disk. Tron was at his feet and he wasn't moving."

Alan couldn't breathe. He had heard this story before from Sam, but it was entirely different hearing it from someone whom had actually been there.

"I-I remember screaming," Quorra continued, her eyes misted over with guilt and pain, "but I was too far away to help. The System Monitor held me back and...looking back on it, that probably saved my life. I would've been no match for Clu, not after what he had done to Tron."

Not after what he did to Tron. Alan closed his eyes and fingered the bridge of his nose. "You thought he was derezzed." Everyone thought he was derezzed.

"Yes," Quorra confirmed, heaving a sigh of guilt, "I don't think I had ever been so terrified in my life. Without Flynn, Tron was the strongest ally we had. Without him, we had... nobody. No one on the Grid was safe."

"I'm sorry," Alan said spontaneously, surprising even himself. He was unsure what he was apologizing for but feeling the overwhelming urge to say the words regardless. I'm sorry that this happened to you. I'm sorry I didn't make Tron stronger. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help. I'm sorry that-

Quorra stopped his train of thought by taking one of his hands and squeezing it with her own. Her brilliant eyes were no longer sad but sharp and fiercely determined. "No. Don't be sorry. You're here now, and you're trying to fix Tron. If you can do that, that will help fix what went wrong a thousand cycles ago."

Alan sat perfectly still, touched by her unwavering support. First Yori, now Quorra. Did they truly believe that he had the ability to fix everything, or was it their trust in Users that made them say such things? "Quorra, we Users are not infallible," he said slowly, squeezing her hands back, "I can't promise that this will go well. I never planned on Tron being corrupted by another Program, and I certainly never thought I'd be trying to 'fix' him thirty years after I first wrote him."

Quorra raised a dainty eyebrow, and suddenly Alan remembered just how dangerous she could be. "None of us thought he had survived the last thousand cycles, and yet he did that and overrode Clu's reprogramming without any direct help from the rest of us. That isn't something every Program can do, and Tron isn't a Program that every User can write."

Alan was dimly amazed by her words. Just who is lecturing who right now? He chuckled, pulling his hands away so that he could run them through his white locks. "Such blind faith. You kids will be the death of me, I swear."

Quorra frowned. "I certainly hope not."

"It's an expression."

"Ah." The ISO grinned. "So was 'no work at the dinner table' also an expression?"

Alan froze. "Pardon?"

"I wasn't going to hurt him," Quorra continued, her eyes twinkling with mischievousness, "but Sam warned me that you would be troubled about my being near Tron."

Alan groaned. Sam Flynn, we are going to have a nice CHAT about your practical jokes. "I thought it was a legitimate worry, yes," he sighed, attempting to salvage what he could of his dignity.

Quorra smiled gently. "So did Sam, at first," she admitted, "but I had to remind him that I lived with his father for a long time. Flynn fed me many stories about his adventures with Tron, and also those that he had with you."

Alan had the grace to look embarrassed. "I'm a boring man compared to Tron."

"No," Quorra said, shaking her head again. "I have only known you for a little while, Alan One, but everything I see in Tron, I see in you."

Alan was stunned into silence. "T-Thank you," he said eventually, his voice tighter than he would've liked it to be.

Quorra nodded, standing as she began to collect their plates of half-eaten food. She gracefully reached over to take her disk, returning it to its rightful place on her back. She seemed pleased that Alan had no protests. "I don't need any thanking," she said with her characteristic bluntness, "I only speak the truth."

Alan felt a shiver run up his spine. What was the phrase that Sam said his father used to describe the ISO's? Profoundly naive, yet unimaginably wise.

He watched as Quorra turned to leave without another word. Yes. Very wise indeed.

He looked down at the two disks remaining on the desk -one white and glowing, the other black and dim. The designs on both were practically identical. Everything I see in Tron, I see in you.

Taking a deep breath, Alan reached out for Tron's black disk.

Yes. He could do this. He had to. He was the only one who could.

AN: And there you have it, my very random headcanon involving Quorra, the ISOs and Tron. I based parts of it off the comic Tron: Betrayal and the video game Tron: Evolution, especially the cut scene in Evolution where Tron dryly refers to Quorra as "someone who's looking to get into trouble". It's also shown in the video game that Quorra, along with the monitor program Anon (the player's character), witnessed Clu's coupe against Tron and Flynn.

I feel like the relationship between Quorra and Tron was more like a little sister / big brother complex (even if Quorra crushed on Tron a bit 'cause seriously, who wouldn't? lol). I had fun with the idea of Tron teaching the ISOs basics in fighting. Since he was such a powerful warrior and was probably also the oldest Program on Kevin's new Grid, he might've taken it upon himself to help the ISOs out.

Also, nicknaming Tron, Flynn and Clu as the Protector, the Creator and the Administrator was just too easy. I love catchy titles. :D I seriously think of these two as a weird version of the Three Stooges. Back in the day before Clu went beserk, they must've had crazy fun adventures together. THAT'S MY HEADCANON AND I'M STICKING TO IT.