AN: Hey Everyone! What's going on? I hope everyone's having a good time doing whatever it is you're doing! I'm not exactly having the best week ever. It's more like one of the busiest weeks I've had in a while. I'm helping to plan a charity fashion show my Girl Scout troop is doing on Friday. All the money we're hoping we make is going to be donated to the Lance Armstrong Foundation for Cancer Research. We figure it's a good cause and, besides that, my sister, mother, and I are big fans of Lance Armstrong. Not just because he's won seven Tour de Frances but because he's an excellent role model and does a lot of good work in the research field through his foundation. On top of that, my darling little sister decided to dump her four midterm papers on me! She's apparently, too busy planning the St. Patrick's Day party her and her friends are going to have to bother doing her homework. Since she doesn't want to flunk out her last semester in college, she'd decided, in her infinite wisdom, to dump all of her homework on me! Plus I have my own work and project to do for my own classes but, hey, I guess she figures I'll work something out. Not exactly the best of situations but I guess I'll figure something out. Anywho, I don't know how many people are out there still reading this story. If anyone is, thanks a bunch! Please, feel free to let me know what you think! I'm always open to new opinions!
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The Matrix, The Animatrix, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.
"Say you will say you won't
Say you'll do what I don't
Say you're true, say to me c'est la vie…" (from "C'est la Vie" by B'Witched)
Pixie gaped at Wheeler, sort of like a fish out of water, if said fish could affect a disbelieving sort of look on their faces. It was hard for her to comprehend what her friend had done even though she logically knew what had happened. She was just having a very hard time wrapping her mind around it.
Wheeler- the only person within the confines of Zion and, probably, the world as a whole to earn the title of Pixie's best friend- had just kissed her.
The odd thing, the thing that made Pixie almost want to laugh was that it wasn't even a horrible kiss. If anything, it was rather sweet and all together innocent. A simple brush of his lips against her own. Nothing too major or anything horribly rude. Still it was a complete shock to Pixie's system. It was something very out of character for Wheeler, something she never would have expected him to do.
Apparently and despite the fact he'd been the one to kiss her, Wheeler looked sort of shocked- Maybe surprised was a better word for how he looked- himself. His face was staining a bright red color that seemed to be starting from the back of his neck and working its way around from there. He'd stepped away from Pixie, standing closer to the railing than to her door now.
Not that Pixie had taken any steps towards her scruffy looking friend. She was standing a bit closer to the doorway of her home, glancing around in an almost nervous manner. Pixie wasn't keen on making direct eye contact with Wheeler, his bright hazel eyes turning her face a brighter shade of red every time they met with her own brandy brown eyes.
"I'm…I'm…going to go. Yeah, that's a good idea," Wheeler mumbled, half speaking nervously to himself and half speaking to the young woman standing in front of him, "I'll talk to you tomorrow or whenever I guess."
Pixie, at a loss for words and afraid her voice was going to stutter and stammer like Wheeler's, only nodded her head. Once Pixie was sure Wheeler had gone on his way, heading for his own home a few levels down from hers, she stepped into her home, shutting the door behind her.
The young woman leaned back on the door, her head and back resting on the red, metallic surface. It might have been just her imagination acting up but the door felt very cool to the touch, a stark contrast to how warm she felt. Pixie felt like she'd gotten a very bad sunburn. Her entire body felt warm, almost feverish from the pale red blush that spread itself all over her face.
Her eyes slipped closed, a silent wish for the coolness to spread across her body going out to whoever was out there listening to the wishes of the population of Zion. What she needed, Pixie figured, was a moment to think. A second or two or ten to let what happened between her and Wheeler and decide what this meant for her and her scruffy looking best friend.
There was just one small problem with her plan. One tiny little hitch that wasn't allowing her to do what she wanted. A small annoying bump in the road as Pixie tried to figure out just what had happened and just why the world had decided, in that one moment when Wheeler kissed her, to go mad on her.
Pixie's mind seemed to be split into two halves. What's more the halves of her mind were warring against one another.
One part of her mind, the logical part Pixie always listened to, was screaming for her to find someone to talk to, someone to help her understand what had just happened. That part of her mind was having trouble rationalizing the feelings that were coursing through her. It could not understand why her heart was racing and her pulse pounding.
That part of her mind was searching for and not finding a rational explanation as to why her best friend had kissed her and set her head spinning. There must have been someone, within the entire body of Zion, who could interpret these feelings, understand the where and why of what was happening to her.
The other part of her mind was the part she usually kept quiet. It belonged to the teenager she actually was, age wise anyway.
That part of her mind wanted to scream and shout and dance around her small, sparse, and, all together utilitarian, kitchen. There was a boy who liked her and he had kissed her. This part cared little for the fact that she had no idea if she reciprocated the boy's feelings for her. It just was happy that someone liked her.
Putting a metal muzzle on the teenaged part of her mind so she could get some thinking done, Pixie considered what the logical part of her mind wanted her to do. Though she wasn't all the keen on asking for help Pixie knew she'd never be able to work her feelings out of the twisted jumble Wheeler had put them in.
The walls, so to speak, had been breached; reinforcements were necessary.
Her first impulse was to run right back to Rain's. Rain, after all, was the closest thing Pixie had to an actual mother and, on those TV shows she watched while living in the Matrix, mothers were supposed to know how to solve these kinds of problems. Rain had seen her through her years in the Academy and was still playing her mom even though Pixie was living on her own as an, arguably, grown young woman.
Maybe that was why she decided against asking Rain. She didn't want the one person she counted as a mother to think she wasn't able to handle herself and the situations she found herself in. She didn't want to disappoint Rain, in the same way some children didn't want to disappoint his or her parents.
Pixie's thoughts drifted next to the two women she worked alongside with. They too were eliminated, for a variety of reasons. The day's events would not be talked about unless they, somehow, managed to get the story out of Pixie in some way. That being unlikely to happen- Pixie was always careful to keep what could be deemed her "personal life" out of her work situation, the whole mess with Hawk notwithstanding. He'd been the one to drag that into their job.- so Pixie was secure in the fact this story was going to stay quiet.
There was Aisling or Ngaio, her two female friends her own age, but Pixie figured asking them what she should do or say was a dangerous thing. She knew if she asked them for advice she wasn't going to hear the end of it. They'd remind her of it every chance they got about it. This was not exactly her proudest moment, not exactly a span of time Pixie wanted to be reminded of.
With a weary sort of sigh, Pixie wracked her mind for another option. She couldn't talk to Adoh nor would she talk to Mouse. Hawk was a nonentity in this case. He'd never liked Wheeler to begin with and this, certainly, wouldn't help. As a matter of fact, he might do something rash the next time he "happened" to bump into Wheeler.
Her eyes snapped open though, as a laugh bubbled out of her. There was one person she could ask for help. One person who'd pointed who had said that Wheeler was completely head over heels for her. One female who had tried to put everything in perspective for her but Pixie hadn't wanted to hear any of it then.
Looking up at the small digital clock tucked into a natural niche in the wall, Pixie checked the time. It was awfully late- Too late really for her to pay any unsuspecting person a visit- but the need to talk to someone was still there. It wasn't going to go away any time soon.
Besides, Pixie figured Chian wouldn't mind her showing up. It wasn't like Pixie was going to wake her up anyway. After all, if she remembered correctly, Chian was supposed to be doing something Sparks that night. Pixie figured that the Operator would have left and Chian would still be awake, cleaning up or something.
Pulling away from her red door, Pixie peered out onto the catwalk that served as a side walk. Though she'd seen him leave, Pixie was just checking to make sure Wheeler had really gone back to his own home. She wasn't keen of having to face him right now. She knew she had to eventually but now was not the time.
Not seeing Wheeler, Pixie set of for Chian's home at a fast jog. She wasn't exactly full out running but she wasn't exactly walking quickly either. Pixie was moving somewhere in between the two.
Her friend's home was not very far from her own small home so Pixie got there rather quickly. Like every other door in Zion, Chian's was red in color and virtually indistinguishable from its neighbors. Pixie knew it was her friend's door, though, since she'd had the occasion to visit more than once. Closing her fist, Pixie banged on the door as hard as she possibly could. Several times with no answer later, Pixie gave the door a very odd look. With an absent minded shrug and the need for an ear to bend and to have her feelings explained to her, Pixie tried the wheel that acted in place of a door knob.
Much to her surprise, the door was wide open. Pixie took that to mean her friend was still awake and someplace in her home. After all, those who came out of the Matrix still had a propensity to lock their doors at night. One of those ingrained habits some Matrix born individuals still had.
Like a shadow, Pixie slipped into her friend's home. All thoughts of her friend being awake and cleaning up after her dinner with Sparks were banished in that moment. The room was a mess, with mismatched dishes and cups still on the table and in the basin that served as a sink.
"Maybe she's asleep?" Pixie wondered, mumbling to herself because the space around her was just too quiet.
Glancing around the rather messy space- Pixie had never known Chian to be this slovenly- Pixie noticed that there were boots piled on the floor near the battered couch. Two boots belonged to her friend; she recognized them as the ones she always wore. The other two were unfamiliar. They were larger in size and were a bit blacker then Chian's, if that was at all possible.
Unsure of what to do, whether or not she should stick around, Pixie called, "Anyone home? Anyone here?"
Her voice sounded small and unsure, in her own head, but she'd shouted as loud as she possibly could. Still she got no reply. The door had been opened, there was a mess everywhere and, yet no one seemed to be around. Though she'd come looking for someone to talk to and help her sort out her own feelings- It sounded strange in her head, no matter what angle she came at it from.- she suddenly became concerned for her friend. Something seemed to be amiss in the situation she'd wandered into.
Not thinking of anything else except the well being of a friend- Even though Chian was more like the older sister she'd never had. - and almost glad to have something else to dwell on, Pixie decided to see if her friend was in bed. Maybe she'd gone to sleep without cleaning up or locking up or something. People, including her, could be forgetful from time to time.
Clearing her throat in order to give Chian some warning, Pixie stepped around the rain cloud gray curtain that separated the bedroom area from the rest of the space.
Moments later, the young woman made a sound like a mouse being stepped on and fled back to her own home, mentally berating herself the entire time. She was, hypothetically, old enough to be able to handle her own feelings. There was no need for her to go and seek another person's help. That was foolish of her, no matter how badly she thought she needed someone to talk to.
It was best she try to handle things on her own. At least, that's what she decided as she fled back to her own home, to her own room with her own thoughts chasing each other in circles in her head.