Author's Note: Fall semester has started at my college and so just as a heads up I may not get to work on this as often as I would like (not that I update weekly or anything) because I am taking classes that require a lot out outside of class work. So enjoy this chapter because I don't know what my free time will be doing.

Warning: Remember when Neo meets Trinity and he's amazed that she's this pretty legendary hacker? Good. And remember how this fanfic is categorized as a romance? Excellent.

Disclaimer: All character names you recognize from The Matrix are (C) of the Wachowskis. If you recognize character names because I have used them previously, those guys are mine. If you recognize a name from anywhere else it is coincidence. IRS stands for "It's Really Satan."

Hollow

Trinity was at if for almost a week before all Hell broke loose.

Hacking the IRS database was not easy, she needed to be at her computer for hours at a time just to get through the layers of security code, and hide her footprints when she managed to sneak past. Trinity did not leave her room all of Saturday after Smith left, most of Sunday, and even skipped school on Monday as she hacked her way through tax information.

The rest of the week Trinity did go to school, but excused herself from her friends to go straight home, back to her room, and right back to hacking. Wednesday afternoon, the story of how Debra Michaels had apparently been cheating the IRS for years was all over the news. Trinity couldn't help but smile when ever she heard that, and knew she could not stop there.

Oh no.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

There were plenty of people that the young woman born Christine Edwards had personal vendettas against. Guidance counselors that screwed her over, foster families that abused her, even a few teachers both at her current school and those she'd been to in the past. Companies and charity organizations, sports teams, business tycoons, and politicians Trinity believed were out of line. She laid siege to them through the power of apparent tax fraud. By Friday it was officially announced that the IRS had been hacked and it could be a while before the mess was sorted out and those guilty or guiltless of fraud could be revealed.

In the meantime, the internet was buzzing with computer geeks and hackers who had gotten her coded message claiming responsibility under the alias Trinity. Her assault had come in three waves, the promise/threat, the actual hacking, and the confession. Most people seemed to assume that 'Trinity' was a group of three people. Trinity found internet news, forums and chat-rooms dedicated to the controversy of the Hacker Trio, some praising their guts, other calling them crazy morons, but all of them agreeing that it was an incredible feat. Saturday, the name Trinity was linked to the IRS hacking, sparking whispers not just on the internet but in her school and on the street.

Stay out of trouble.

Somehow Trinity could see Smith shaking his head in exasperation and veiled amusement.

She was far too smug for her own good. Trinity was at her computer on the following Sunday evening, once again hacking into the IRS, she wasn't sure what she would do today, but that was part of the excitement. She had just by-past the firewalls to get to work on today's shenanigans (Oh how she suddenly loved that word), when the door to her room opened.

And the Old Man stepped in.

It took him all but six seconds to see what she was doing, remember the stories that had been on the news all week, realize she was the one responsible...And yell so loud his face turned red in the last of those six seconds. Trinity was just able to bolt out of her chair when he charged at her "YOU LITTLE BITCH! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH TROUBLE YOU'VE CAUSED!"

Trinity made a break for the door, she was faster than him, but he was closer to the only exit, and much bigger than her. He grabbed her arm with enough force she was afraid it might pop out of its socket, and yanked her around to meet his angry crimson face.

She screamed.

–

It hadn't taken the Agents half a day after hearing the first word of an IRS hacking to understand exactly who was responsible. The 'suspicion' they had was confirmed by cracking a coded message that left the signature "Trinity" behind. Smith had an irritated, but not unamused reaction to this.

That same Sunday, the Agents were called for final discussion on the decision of which candidate would take the job to help them capture Morpheus. Though it hardly seemed any debate was needed given how much attention the IRS hacking was getting.

"Humans just don't know how to listen." Jones said, perfectly aware of Smith's warning to the girl.

"Or perhaps they just enjoy defiance." Brown offered.

"I suspect both." Smith added. "Especially at Trinity's age, adolescent humans are particularly troublesome."

The Architect dipped his head in agreement, "Chemicals in the human cerebral cortex allow for rapid development of Egocentrism, adolescent humans such as Christine Edwards are more likely to make rash and high-risk decisions, particularly when attempting to impress their piers of potential mates, whereas a human who has already fully developed such as Mrs. Michaels, tend to be more conservative and aware of the consequences of their actions."

"So there is no debate now." Agent Chalmer concluded, "Miss Edwards has won the job through he demonstration of boldness and commitment-"

"-I disagree." Agent Harris countered, all eyes turned to him, and he reworded himself, "I agree with the conclusion, Miss Edwards should is most definitely the better candidate, but I disagree with your reasoning. Her decision to hack the IRS was not a demonstration of boldness. As the Architect implied it was an attempt to impress someone."

"Us, obviously." Jones said, "That was what the assignment was."

"I do no believe so." Harris continued, "True that the assignment called for it, but I believe there was more to this. Perhaps she subconsciously making an effort to fit in more with the hacker culture by leaving a mark so big none of her potential piers could ignore her existence, thus allowing easier acceptance when she joined. Or..." He trailed off, his mind clearly else where for a moment.

"Or what?" Smith asked.

"Or perhaps she was trying to impress a specific individual, a possible romantic interest. Humans of all ages tend to be more audacious when they want to attract someone's attention. You see it in grade-school children with teasing, sports in higher grades, and collection of skills in adulthood." Harris explained, he then folded his hands under his chin with his elbows on the table in a posture Smith often took himself, "Of course her reasoning has no impact on Miss Edwards' results, regardless of why she chose such a bold target she still is our finalist."

It occurred to Smith that he had tensed while the topic of Trinity trying impress someone was being discussed, and forced himself to relax when the Architect spoke. "Very well, is there anyone who believes that Mrs. Michaels deserves more consideration?" He was answered with silence. "Then the decision is made. The Agent who is most familiar with Miss Edwards may be excused to give her the news. The rest of you I want to continue with the investigation of the man known as Frank Larson, we need more information..."

As the Agent most familiar with Trinity, Smith was the one who rose from the table and left the room while the Architect continued to speak to the others. Since it was the weekend, Trinity was presumably still at her foster home. There was no urgency to meet Trinity and tell her she had been chosen, so Smith took the elevator down to the parking garage to get his car and drive over, rather than merely switching hosts as he had the last time he had visited.

The sun was low and the sky was dark with rain-heavy clouds, the last of the Spring-storms weather men where saying, and Smith hit almost exclusively red lights, and was sure this was somehow Henry Long's (the program responsible for traffic signals) attempt to antagonize him for being an Agent and friend of the girl who had humiliated him recently. Smith refused to let it have any effect on his mood. Still it took a ridiculous amount of time to reach the house Trinity currently took residence in. Smith parked his car in the gravel in front of the house, not bothering to lock it since he would only be here a few minutes.

When Smith knocked on the door he expected for Diane Kettner to answer as she had the last time, instead a man opened the door, presumably her husband Markus Kettner. He had sandy blond hair that was turning silver at the edges, and thinning at the top, he had more wrinkles than his wife but a full beard and mustache. He was a big man, with wide shoulders and a not un-slim waist, the body of a military man that had seen better days but had not quite let himself go yet. He was dressed in a white t-shirt that had a brown stain not quite in the middle of his chest that could have been from coffee, tea, or beer, and blue jeans that were ripped at the knees.

There were two things Smith noticed immediately about the man: first the color of his face and its expression (narrowed eyes, furrowed eyebrows, and lips that were turn down in a large frown) which indicated the man was in a rage. Drunk? Possibly, from the beer bottle in his hand, which might also explain the stain on his shirt.

The second thing Smith noticed was that Markus's lip was split, bleeding and starting to swell from what was obviously a well aimed punch to his mouth. Blood smudged his chin lightly from where he'd been wiping away at it. Inside Smith could hear the sound of weeping, the voice was distinctively feminine, but far to mature for Trinity. "Who the Hell are you?" Markus asked.

"Smith." He answered vaguely, "I am looking for your foster daughter, is she here?"

The sound weeping became a wail, and Markus immediately turned with a loud roar for her to shut up before looking back to Smith, "Fuck no! The little tramp took off two hours ago, good riddance I hope she never comes back!" He touched his lip, indicating either on purpose or subconsciously that Trinity was the one responsible for his injury.

That was worrisome. "What happened?" Smith demanded.

"You been listening to the news?" Markus asked, but didn't wait for a reply, "All that shit about the IRS hacking, fuck, believe it or not, that little bitch we've been babysitting is the one behind it."

"We're not babysitting her!" Diane shrieked coming up behind her husband with eyes red from crying, and cradling her arm as if it were hurt, perhaps it was. "We were supposed to be a family!" She cried.

Markus struck her with his back hand, knocking the woman to the floor where she immediately began bawling "Shut your mouth woman!" He bellowed.

Disgusting.

Smith could not believe the way humans treated one another, it was a big part of his hatred of them. How can humans believe in things like love and goodness when relationships like these were as common as they were. Smith was beginning to understand what had happened, somehow Markus had discovered Trinity's guilt at the IRS hacking and had tried to discipline her for it, based on what Smith had just witness, probably with physical abuse. Trinity defended herself and managed to escape. But to where?

"Do you know where she went?" He asked.

"Fuck no!" Markus repeated taking a swig from his beer, "If you're lookin' for her and you find her, you best throw her ungrateful ass in the deepest darkest dungeon you can find!"

Smith probably should have kept his mouth shut, but he couldn't help himself, "That is out of the question! The only one who belongs in a dungeon here is you, Mr. Kettner." His voice remained utterly calm, despite the venom that laced his words.

Markus's already red face, turned a shade darker and he lifted his free hand to strike at Smith. To the human, he probably thought he was moving fast, but for Smith assault attempt was almost painfully slow. It took no effort at all to avoid the fist being thrown at his face, to catch the wrist that was attached, and to snap the arm it belonged to.

It took Markus a full second to register that he was suddenly the victim and cried out in pain and surprise when Smith's fist collided with his already injured mouth. There was a distinct cracking sound when the force of the blow broke the man's jaw and knocked him onto the floor with his still sobbing wife.

No one ever attacked an Agent, and if they even dared, it was not a mistake they were going to make twice.

Mrs. Kettner screamed in astonishment, but not fear, and scooted as far away from her husband as she could manage. Smith hoped she had the sense to run like Trinity had, but did not stick around to see what happened next. Back in his car he relayed what he had just discovered back to the Source; Trinity was gone and no one knew where she was. He didn't even need to be told his new orders, it was the only thing on his mind.

Find her.

Smith did not get anxious and start a desperate search, he was an Agent, he kept an inhuman calm, focusing on the logical routes and destinations Trinity would have in mind, rather than panic thinking about how he didn't know where to start. Think: Trinity's foster home was where she was supposed to be safe, that was not the case, where would she seek a haven after that?

The immediate places he thought of were the school and at a friend's house. It was the weekend, the school would be virtually empty, and most likely locked, and even if there were people there, they would not be the kind of people Trinity would turn to for help. So she would have tried to reach one of her friends.

Smith knew that Trinity had a small group of friends, and had briefly met a few of them. With and understanding of Trinity's personality, her social awkwardness, he could easily narrow down which of her friends Trinity would be most likely to run to if she were in trouble.

Cynthia Berg lived in a housing district across town, if Trinity was not there Smith did not want to waste the time it would take to drive there and back to resume his search. He kept one hand on the wheel of his car, but put the other to his earpiece, "I need to call a civilian family. The Bergs, Trinity may be at their residence." He said. The little device was used, not only to connect the Agents to the Source, and to allow Agents contact with each other, but it was also used, not as frequently, as means of communication with humans.

The line was silent for several rings when finally a young woman answered, "Hello, Berg residence, this is Cynthia."

What luck that the human who answered was the one he needed to speak to, "Hello, I am Agent Smith, a friend of Christine Edwards, I believe we've met before." He introduced himself, as Smith recalled this was the girl that thought he was Christine's lover.

"Oh hey! Yeah I remember seeing you, how did you get this number?"

"That is not important." Smith said, "I am looking for Trin- Christine, is she at your house?"

"Christine? No, I called her to see if she wanted to come over this morning but she said she wasn't feeling well, she's probably at home. You have her phone number right?"

"She is not at home." Smith told her.

"She isn't?" Cynthia sounded concerned, "Was she fighting with her foster father again? I knew it was only a matter of time before she ran away. I told her she could stay with us if she ever did, but she hasn't called-"

"-Do you know anywhere else she would go?"

"Um, no. Why do you need to fin-"

Smith discontinued the call without letting the young woman finish, there was no time to converse with her if Trinity was not there. Not at her friend's...What next? Think. There was only so far she could go in two hours.

"Damnit Trinity, where are you?" Smith muttered to himself.

His last resort was to contact the Source, use eyes across the Matrix to locate her, it would be faster and easier, but harder to explain when he did find her. Typically the Source was constantly watching for human rebels or exiles so that Agents could be aware of any activity instantly, and was rarely used for any other reason. Luckily Trinity's avatar code was easily located, she had left the residential area and was in the city.

Smith turned onto the closest road, the fist spit of rain left a mist on the windshield of his car, but it was only a few minutes before the droplets became thicker and fell more heavily. He had to turn the wipers on just to be able to see the road in front of him. He closed in on Trinity, she had escaped into one of the less occupied parts of town, but one that was considered to be pretty high in activity for exiles, a quick scan revealed that none were causing any trouble at the moment. At last Smith could see her on the street.

She still didn't have a new hoodie, instead she was wearing a denim jacket with her backpack held over her head in attempt to keep dry. Smith pulled over, parking his car in front of a building with a big FOR LEASE sign across it's door. By the time Smith was out of his car Trinity was turning into an alley way half a block from him.

"Trinity!" He called, but the sound of the rain and wind ripped his voice away. Rain drops made it impossible to see through his sunglasses and he had to take them off, before he set of after the girl. He kept a quick pace, but not quite a run, he reached the ally to find it a dead end with Trinity no where in sight. Clearly she could not have disappeared, Smith examined the alley, the rain thinned a little, making it easier to see.

There was a pile of large boxes, a dumpster, and several trash cans. The dumpster was locked, she couldn't have opened it to hide from the rain inside, no would there have been room for her in the cars. That left only one place for her to be hiding. Smith approached the boxes, before he was even in full view of the opening, Smith could see the edges of her backpack. "Trinity." He called again, softer now that he was closer, and the rain was not as heavy.

She didn't say anything, but did crawl out of the box she was using for shelter. Her backpack, though completely soaked, had not done much to keep her dry, and but her face wet with more than rain. Her cheeks were red from crying, and she had a huge bruise forming at her eye, no doubt her foster father had struck her, and Trinity had punched back in order to get away. She looked more angry than frightened, "I'm not going back to that place!" she said definitiveness that made Smith certain that she wouldn't go even if it was his intention to haul her back to her foster home..

"No you are not." Smith agreed. He had seen how Markus Kettner treated his 'family' and if there was one thing that Smith was not going to allow it would be for any further harm to this young woman. He offered her his hand, "Come on. You are going to stay with me for a while."

Given the current circumstance, he doubted anyone within the Agency would object to this decision. They needed Trinity for the infiltration project, she was in danger from the foster family she was currently with and it would be simply less of a hassle for her to stay with the Agents rather than try to hunt down a suitable family. The only immediate problem was the Agents did not have homes in the way that humans and other programs did, they would need to make specific arrangements for her.

Trinity took his hand, her fingers were so cold that Smith's were warm in comparison. Smith started to lead her away, but then Trinity did something the Agent did not expect and was unprepared for. She hooked her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to do so, and pulled him down so that his lips pressed against hers.

A sort of shock went through Smith. He'd never had any interest in romantic ties after the failure of the Venus project and the deletion of his partner Hestia. He hadn't kissed a woman, or even took any notice of them since. Yet he found himself responding to the kiss Trinity was giving him. She was still only a child by the standards of the modern age that the Matrix represented, and that was reflected in the childish manner of the kiss, probably her first. Smith had no idea why he was responding, he didn't even like humans, and this...this just was beyond his ability to understand. The only explanation came in the form of something the Architect had once said after the Venus project was shut down.

Love is a chemical reaction in the brain required by two individuals that can not be stimulated by artificial methods.

The Source sang from his earpiece, Insectoid type exiles were at the center of a disturbance a few blocks from his position. Jones and Brown were already en route. These types of exiles were invulnerable to everything except fire, which would make them difficult to subdue in the rain, unless the Agents were to lure them inside of the abandoned buil-

Smith pushed Trinity off him gently and removed his earpiece. "Come on." He said again, pulling her toward the street. It was late, and Smith did not have anyplace he could take her that night, but there was a hotel across the street they could stay for the night. Jones and brown could take care of the exiles on their own for a little bit while Smith made sure Trinity was someplace safe. They were both soaking wet when they entered the hotel, the man at the front desk noticed Trinity's black eye, and made a comment on it.

"I got mugged." Trinity said saving Smith the trouble of explaining. It took too long for the man to get them a room, apologizing that there was only one available and it was a one person bed.

"We'll take it." Smith said, "We just need to get out of the rain."

The key was given to Trinity. The hotel had seen better days and was probably one bad payment away from being for lease like the building across from it. There was an awkward silence between them for a long time Trinity had been planning to runaway for a while, the backpack she had was not her school bag, but one she'd filled with extra clothes and bus money so she could escape to her friends house.

At their room, Trinity went into the bathroom to wash her face and change into her pajamas, Smith stayed where he was, wanting to make sure Trinity would be alright before he left to help his partners. He wasn't still wasn't sure what exactly had transpired between him and Trinity. Was she in love with him? What did he feel for her? He certainly preferred her company to that of other humans, and did not wish for her to be in danger. He genuinely liked her he supposed, but how deep did far did that linking extend? Smith didn't know enough about love to draw a satisfying conclusion.

Trinity came out of the bathroom. In the better light Smith could see the condition her eye was in, it didn't appear to be as bad he initially thought. She was wearing and oversized shirt to sleep in, the way some human females wore night gowns. Her arms were bare enough that Smith could see bruising on her left forearm, like she had been grabbed and squeezed hard. Probably around the same time she had been hit.

He needed to say something to her, "Trinity-" He began.

"-I love you Smith." She interrupted, her face turned red, "I'm sorry, I'm sure you think I'm just a silly little girl with a crush, but please..." Her eyes watered and her head dropped into his chest, "This might just be a crush, but its the most real thing I have ever felt!"

The confession made sense to Smith, of course with her being passed around she wouldn't have had time to make many friends, let alone know anyone long enough to develop romantic feelings. Except when he walked into her life. His arms went around her, dammit what was he thinking?

"It's alright." He told her, Trinity's shoulder's started to shake, and he lifted her face to kiss her forehead. "I care about you Trinity, I don't know how much, but its the most I've care for anyone in...A long time." He settled on.

Tears dropped over her cheeks, and Smith knew in that moment he did not want to leave her alone for the night. Jones and Brown would be fine on their own, but Trinity needed him. He still hadn't put his earpiece back in.

"You should sleep." He told Trinity nodding to the bed, "We'll talk tomorrow." There was a chair in the corner of the room close to the window which he intended to occupy until morning. Trinity noticed his gaze on the chair and touched his arm.

"Will you sleep with me?" she asked, her eyes widened suddenly and the color of her face flushed again, "I- I don't mean- you know- I just...Will you hold me for a while...? I don't want to be alone."

Her clarification had Smith confused for a second until he remembered that humans sometimes used the phrase 'sleep with' as a euphemism for sexual intercourse. He blinked at the request, but nodded, he would hold her, but nothing more. His jacket was still soaking wet so he took it off and hung it on a hanger in the closet. His undershirt was damp, but he didn't want to remove it too.

Trinity was already in the bed and under the blankets, when Smith joined her. The quilts smelled old and were itchy even through his clothes, the pillows and mattress were hard too. Trinity laid her head against his chest and their arms wrapped around each other. With the bed being so uncomfortable, it took several minutes of awkward shifting before they both were in a position were they could rest easily.

Human avatars and programs were virtually they same, and required a certain amount of recharge in order to function. Agents were no different, though the time they needed for recharge was vastly shorter, typically only a couple minutes of complete shut down, though these periods could last longer when Agents were not on duty. Smith had never 'slept' though an entire night, and he spent most of this one listening to the rain, wondering about his feelings toward Trinity and human emotion.

Things were starting to change, but Smith had no idea which way they were going...

Author's end note: Yes, stopping there, this chapter has been going on long enough. Speaking of chapters, believe it or not this fic is actually almost over, I suspect I have about five chapters left of story. By that I mean, it could be only four or could be six more chapters long.