Chap 3...nothing much to say about this, only that I'm sorry my chapters are still rather short, but on the plus side, it allows me to post more often! Still don't own the Matrix...

--

As Agent Smith regained control of his body, he came to fully realize that he was lying on the floor, covered in dust. The past few moments had happened in a blur and he was glad that his charge, Trinity, had been more aware then he. Otherwise, they would both be lying against the wall, her dead and him painfully regaining consciousness in another body.

Smith got to his feet, looking around methodically. In the middle of the now empty dance floor stood the Agent, green patterns and complex shadows dancing across him. His dark shades held a challenge.

Not having time for this, Smith darted towards the man and they quickly met in combat. The unknown Agent held the upper hand for most of the fight, though any blow from each was perfectly executed, landing with the utmost strength. This perfection meant little to the two opponents, though, as attacks were easily returned with just as precise movements. It was impossible for them to do no less; machine was fighting machine.

Finally gaining an advantage, Smith prepared one well-placed blow and intended to, for now, finish off this uninvited guest. Though if the man was indeed an Agent, he knew there was little that could be done to stop him from eventually returning. So had their programming been ingeniously planned.

But it didn't matter; the flawless attack never arrived. While taking a step back, Smith inconveniently placed his foot on a cheap, shiny plastic necklace that has been discarded by the fleeing crowd. He was thrown off balance and went sprawling to the ground.

Smith looked up his foe in bewilderment. The Agent pulled his gun out.

"I didn't do anything," Smith spat out at him, "Why do you want me?"

The unknown Agent just smiled a metallic smile, identical to every other Agent's. Only this smile held something different, something unintentionally more human. Yes, that smile held a certain level of cruel satisfaction, pleasured by Smith's helpless and enriched with self-pride, emotions very much human in nature. But the smile flickered back to the meaningless grin in a matter of seconds.

"It was…inevitable," the Agent said.

--

Trinity's heart beat faster than it ever had and her body struggled to catch up. He was dead. But he was the one, how could he be dead and gone? She pinched herself over and over again, maybe hoping that she would wake up and this would all be a simulation, with Morpheus standing over her to tell her the mistake that had been made, so she could go back and try again. But nothing faded.

She glanced down at her hands. They were covered in specks of bright red, blood from Neo's wound.

Trinity gasped for air. She felt like a wimp, allowing emotions this much leverage to her soul, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Slowly, the tears began to fall, and the world melted away as she let her sorrow, her despair for a man she had never met, consume her.

--

The Agent had aimed his gun when a sound reached his ears. A quiet sob, emitted from the far corner of the room.

It distracted the Agent enough for Smith to jump to his feet, but his attempt to grab the gun failed. The man whirled back around in time to catch him with his hand on the weapon. Their momentary struggle resulted in two randomly shot stray bullets. One imbedded itself deep in the far wall, whizzing directly past Trinity.

It jerked her out of her own little world and she lifted a tear-streaked face towards Smith and the strange Agent.

The other bullet had found its way to one of the few green lights that gave the room its dim glow. Upon the collision, the center of the room went eerily dark, side lighted only by the two or so whirling lights left.

The shots had reminded Smith.

"The gun," he announced, 'Trinity!"

He needn't have called her name as she knew exactly what he meant. She had awaken from her state of shock in time to remember Smith's gun. It had remained by her side through the entire disheartening discovery.

Despite her still drying eyes, Trinity knew she had to focus, and even found the distraction comforting. At least this life and death situation took her mind off the questions that invaded it, including ones that would probably never be fully answered.

A quick flick of the wrist later, she was on her feet; a bullet shot through the other Agent. His dodging action separated him from Smith. The avoided bullet took out the second to last light illuminating the room.

In a moment, Smith had made his way, inexplicably in the dark, over to Trinity. The other Agent was still finding his bearings in the middle of the dark floor.

"Give me the gun," he ordered, his urgency well felt.

Her red eyes studied him.

"No"

"God dammit!"

He began to wrestle it away from her, but her grip was strong from years of practice. They engaged in a simple tug-of-war.

"Give me the gun! Do you want to die?"

"I don't want to be you hosta—"

"You are going to let go when I count—"

"I'm not!"

"—Shut up! When I count to ten: one—"

"In your dreams, asshole"

"—two, three—"

"Besides, you'll miss"

"—four; oh no, I won't; five—"

"Yes, you will"

"—six—"

"Watch out!"

The Agent had found his way out of the darkness, and came upon them, towering as he sped out of the shadows. As the light reached his vicious face, both Trinity and Smith's fingers found the trigger. They pulled at the same time.

The Agent was too close to escape this bullet and he inevitably took it hard to the stomach. The body of a squat man wearing tuxedo dropped to the floor, a single bullet hole piercing his gut. The Agent was already gone.

Smith turned to Trinity and smiled.

"Told you I wouldn't miss."

Trinity didn't know whether to laugh or punch him.