Chapter Three

Observation

She was picking at the grass, marveling, still, after all this time that The Matrix still felt so real. Even down to the little ants that crawled upon the Earth, this little ecosystem felt so alive, even if the reality was that it all was a lie.

Trinity felt eyes on her. Cold, dark, brooding eyes. Damn drama queen.

"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" asked the rebel, throwing a bit of turf at the agent who was standing next to her. She was sitting, he was standing. Smith had insisted that sitting was ridiculous and she did not bother to debate him. It would have been pointless anyway. Damn stubborn bucket of bolts.

"Just observing," he replied simply.

"Observing what?" she retorted, a bit annoyed. He was always watching her as if she was a lab rat.

It was a rather brisk day, but the sun was still out. She had no idea what the month of the year was, but if Trinity was normal, she might've thought it was fall.

The program seemed unfazed, not embarrassed in the least by her line of questioning. "Observing how you react and relate to stimuli. It is…interesting."

'Oh?"

"Yes. You grew up in The Matrix, rebelled against it, severed yourself, and here you are again, touching the grass as if it is nothing. I find it..amusing, I suppose."

Trinity snickered at his honesty. Over the course of their many interactions, she found that he had became increasingly transparent in his thought processes. It was both frightening and illuminating.

"I am amusing, huh? Like a puppy?"

"No, Miss Edwards, not like a Canis lupus familiaris."

She half-hazardly threw a handful of grass at him. "God, just call it a fucking puppy."

Unbreakable

"What does it cost to be unbreakable?" Trinity touched his chest, feeling the material of Smith's suit underneath her warm fingertips. It felt expensive. "You can't be killed unless the entire Matrix is destroyed, so you are essentially immortal, yes?"

Smith, for once, did not meet her gaze, seemingly unwilling to divulge any internal thoughts. "I fail to see why that question is pertinent."

"Well, humans have accomplished a lot, but the one thing we could never crack was immortality and that is essentially–"

"–What I have, yes. I suppose you could say I am…undying, in a sense."

Her eyes twinkled with almost a child-like curiosity. "Then I ask again: what does it cost?"

His response was curt, his eyes dark. "Something you can't get back. Perhaps I never had it. I don't recommend it."

Jealousy

"Where have you been, Miss Edwards?"

They were in his car, which Trinity vehemently detested; she felt cramped in the little foolish Agent box on wheels, but there was not much choice. He had insisted that they drive around. The Mainframe was becoming suspicious of him stay too long in one location during their (what would describe what they were doing?) meetings, thus necessitating he stay moving to avoid suspicion.

Trinity shot him a look, slightly confused. "In Zion, of course. Why?"

Smith said nothing, but his perpetual frown settling deeper on his face, indicating discontent.

She continued. "Where else would I have been?"

"You have been away from the Matrix for approximately three weeks." replied the Agent.

Fighting back a look of surprise, she replied, "Approximately?"

A nod. "Yes, approximately. In exact terms. you have been away three weeks, two days, seven hours, and twenty-two minutes."

Hm. Curious.

"Why have you been keeping track?"

A pause. "It is my purpose. I must keep track of who comes in and out of the Matrix, maintaining its integrity, and ensuring you and your…colleagues…do not come and go as you please."

Liar.

"So you keep track of how long all the rebels are out of the Matrix?"

Another pause. "Something like that."

Trinity took a moment as she processed the information he had just relayed. She had not realized it, but she had been out of the Matrix for quite a while. She had been preoccupied in Zion with general plans and administrative work within Zion.

Additionally, she had actually made a somewhat romantic connection with another man on a different ship - the Amadeus . His name was Jinx. Did she love him? No. Not even remotely, but it was nice to not be alone. Morpheus' endless search for The One and the constant war against the machines had dominated her life to such an extent that she had not realized until a month ago just how lonely she was.

That was when she met him. Before she knew it, three weeks had passed and they'd spent a majority of it together.

Smith slowed the car to a stop, bringing Trinity out of her thoughts.

Oh right, she was in the car with him. But why stop the car?

"I sense something is different about you," remarked Smith.

Though she did not know why, Trinity feigned ignorance and simply kept her face neutral. She shrugged. "Nothing new here."

Before she could react, Smith's face was closer to hers. He was smelling her, face stony as always as if this was perfectly normal and acceptable behavior. Trinity whipped her torso back from his invasive presence. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"I can sense him on you. I can smell him."

Another feign of ignorance. "Who?"

Trinity detected his eyes narrow behind his glasses. "You tell me."

Dumbfounded, Trinity's head was spinning. Sense him? Since when did Agents become virtual bloodhounds? And whose business was her personal life but her own?

She guffawed. "I will do no such thing."

"Is he the source of your absence here in the Matrix?"

"He is none of your business!"

"So there is another human."

"Why is this any of your business?"

"I already explained, Miss Edwards - anything pertaining to human activities within Zion is my business."

"Bullshit." Trinity leaned back again, thinking about the next words that would leave her mouth. She needed to be careful. The Agent, not unlike an unpredictable animal, was clearly on edge. "Wait a second. Are you…jealous?"

It was Smith's turn to guffaw. "Jealously? I've never experienced such an inane emotion before. Do not confuse my professional interest with…interpersonal stakes."

She decided to let it go. There was no telling what was going on in that broken code of his.