Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They are all property of the Wachowski brothers and Warner Bros.

Thanks for all the reviews, and helpful tips on storylines. Unfortunately, I've planned everything ahead in this story, so I apologize if everything doesn't go the way you like it to. And thanks to Jane, as always, for the VERY helpful tip on plotting. Therefore, post-discussion, Trinity gets an appearance.

Chapter 5: Through the Looking Glass

Rated PG-13.

'Morpheus,' Trinity said, her heart suddenly lurching within her chest. 'Something's wrong, I know it.'

Morpheus looked at his wristwatch, the reflection of her frightened face gleaming in the mirrors of his shades. 'They've only been gone for 10 minutes.'

'She's done something to him, I just know it.' Her heart was fluttering in her breast, a disturbing tappity-tap that was as unusual to her normally calm exterior as it was painful.

His face impassive, Morpheus produced his cellphone and punched a series of numbers. 'Link, we need a trace on where Neo is.'

Trinity watched all this with a growing dread. If something happened to Neo, she would never forgive herself. She would never forgive Morpheus. He had talked Neo into this, damn him. Neo wasn't invincible, the way everyone seemed to think he was the rate they were going. It was always - send Neo to this, get Neo to handle that, Neo could take them all, easy. He was risking his life for them everyday, and they (the council, the ship captains, and the entire citizenry of Zion) were taking him for granted.

Damn them all to hell, if they weren't in it already.

She would tear down the entire Matrix itself if she had to, just to make sure Neo was safe.

She remembered that conversation they had had, the very last night they had been in Zion. The temple had thrown a rave to celebrate what could possibly be humanity's last moments in the last human city, which would have been unusual in most of mankind's history, which was pockmarked with war, hunger and pestilence. But not in this strange post-apocalyptic 23rd century - where society had acquired (or so they would like to think) a certain sophistication and saturation level. Where the need to be so different from the very machines they had created became paramount to their existence, so sex became an overwhelmingly integral part of human expression.

Overthrowing the shackles of religion and ignorance that had usually prohibited ribald behavior in most epochs, Zion embraced a doctrine of living life to the fullest and in total abandonment every day. Most people who were newly unplugged found this more than a little shocking.

'Takes time getting used to,' Neo had commented to her.

She agreed. It had taken her several years to get used to it. 'These people face total annihilation every day. I suppose it gets tiring after a while, so anything is a cause to celebrate.'

'It's like a throwback to the '60's.' He paused, looking a little embarrassed. She had smiled, knowing the reason why. He had never received so many offers of sex thrown his way in his entire life than within the past 6 months, or so many offers from women who wanted to have his children. The Zionites never did care whether or not he had a permanent lover, because permanence for them was fleeting. Clearly, being a messiah in the 23rd century was a far cry from being one in 32 B.C.

They had made love in a curious antechamber she had found somewhere in the underground warrens. There was an arch in the ceiling that was prophetically symbolic, like the pictures she had seen in triptychs of saints. Arches in medieval paintings were used to signify divinity, and since he was as close to divinity as anyone in Zion could get (while remaining assuringly human), she thought it was pleasingly apt. The moment she had found the room, she had wanted to make desperate love to him in it.

And so they had, far away from the revelers, the debauchery and the madding crowd. She had found the experience erotic, though somewhat lacking. Although he had never been technically superior, he usually more than made up for it with sheer passion and enthusiasm. But tonight, he seemed distracted. Something had been bugging him lately, something he was keeping from her.

She knew it had something to do with her, because he had a haunted look in his eyes when he rolled over, perspiration dotting his body. 'Trinity,' he had whispered. 'I can't lose you.'

'You won't lose me,' she avowed, and held him fiercely, as though she could shelter him from all the bad things in the world and keep him in her little cocoon, warm, safe and protected. She had never imagined it possible to love anyone so much. But here she was, head over heels - infatuation, lust, fever, romance and that timeless, heart wrenching 'do all or die' love that people write sonnets about - all bundled into one glorious mess.

They held each other for a long time before he spoke again. 'If we get through this..all of this..have you ever thought about..making this...more permanent?'

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he asking what she thought he was asking? Not many people solemnized marriages in Zion, it was the culture to build entire families without that symbolic piece of parchment.

She spoke her mind before she realized it. 'Let's get through this first...shall we?'

She wanted to berate herself for saying that because he immediately looked away, a disquiet in his eyes. Now why did she have to go and say something like that? Wasn't this what she wanted, dreamt of for the last 6 months like a giddy schoolgirl?

'You're right,' he said. 'Maybe we'd better wait a while and let things settle.' He wouldn't look at her.

Now you've gone and hurt him, she thought miserably.

Commanding herself to return to the present, she heard Morpheus say, 'Are you sure?' A pause. Then, 'keep looking.'

A cold draught gripped her heart. 'What is it, Morpheus?'

'Link was unable to find a trace on him. It seems he's vanished into one of those corridors or ports that are black holes in the system.'

'And we're just going to accept that?' She fought hard to keep the righteous anger from her voice, but she didn't think she succeeded.

'Trinity...'

She knew she was on the brink on insubordination. But when it came to Neo, all reason and rationality seemed to fly out of the window.

'I'm sorry, Morpheus,' she said, striding out of the bathroom, 'but I've got to find him.'

*

The moment he woke up, he immediately knew the world felt wrong.

He was lying on a divan swathed with green and gold sheets, propped up by an amazing number of pillows. Above him, a canopy of filigree curtains hung, bordering the bed in a cloud of transparent gold. The walls of the room were hung with heavy tasseled drapes, and there were plush rugs on the veined marble floor, all worked in the same green and gold pattern. There was so much green and gold in the room that he was getting an eye ache.

(You never did quite like green....)

He frowned. Now where did that thought come from? And more significantly, where was he?

He sat up in alarm. It was not so much a realization that he didn't know where he was, but that he didn't know WHO he was. His mind was churning up an empty blank. Wait...there were images..but these were so fleeting and so jumbled he couldn't make any sense of the flotsam.

Damn it, concentrate. Within his chest, he was aware his heart was drumming up a frenetic staccato.

The images. Yes. A woman with long dark hair in a white dress. A pool in a center court, with a fountain in the middle. Lush gardens with olive trees and white marble statuary. Earthenware ewers of spring water. A waterfall and a river. Horses. None of it made any sense.

My name, he thought. I know my name. It was at the tip of his mind...something that began with..

The door opened and a young woman entered, carrying a pitcher. She had dark braided hair that was wound around her head in a style he found both familiar and yet strange, as though his mind was in a dichotomy as to what was right and wrong. She wore an off-shoulder, sleeveless white tunic that fell loosely down to her ankles. Around her arms were gold circlets, with an insignia of something he knew he should recognize worked into the metal.

She looked at him, and obviously something about him startled her, because her mouth gaped open in a surprised 'O.'

'Hello?' he said uncertainly.

The pitcher fell and crashed onto the floor, shattering. The woman's cheeks colored. He looked down, and realized that he was naked, and the sheets had fallen off.

'For.forgive me, Master,' the girl was stammering. 'I'll.I'll go get the Queen.'

She rushed off, leaving him bewildered. Queen? What Queen? Again, it was something he knew he should have known, but his mind - which was at this moment more scattered than the shards of pitcher across the floor - was refusing to accept.

He groped for the sheets and swung his feet onto the floor, hoping to make himself presentable before this Queen, whoever she was, arrived and pronounced some dire fate on him for frightening her handmaid. If only he wasn't so addled. He wasn't sure where his clothes were, or what they were supposed to look like, if he had any.

In fact, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be fleeing right at this very moment.

Crossing the room, he made a beeline for what he assumed was the bathroom, his bare feet taking care to avoid the detritus from the pitcher. He found himself in a smaller room that was completely white and black mosaic, replete with a square pool in the middle and several miniature fountains that sprung from stone daises, showering the place with a pleasant tinkery sound. There was a large mirror above a marble table against one wall, and to this he strode, still frowning. Because if this was a bathroom, shouldn't there be

(taps?)

Again, the word startled him, as though it shouldn't have been in his vocabulary. And yet it was.

He was almost afraid to look at the face in the mirror. What if it was someone he couldn't recognize? A pulse was throbbing painfully in his forehead now, and as his reflection stood before him - a black-haired man with pale skin and large, haunted eyes - hand raised to touch his own at the surface of the mirror, as though in supplication. Two worlds colliding, divided only by a sheet of glass....and...

(he had been in this situation before, involving a mirror that bordered two lives, and this was déjà vu)

'Neo?'

He jumped. That was his name. Yes! Only it felt otherworldly, as if it didn't quite belong there. The dark-haired woman he had seen in his vision was standing at the threshold of the bathroom that wasn't quite a bathroom, only she was dressed in mauve instead of white, a long dress made of gossamer material. She looked hesitant, as though she was afraid to step in.

'Are you all right?' she asked again.

He was deliberating on what to answer, and settled for the truth. 'I.I'm not sure I remember anything...about who I am, or what I'm doing here..'

She drew closer, and he could see how beautiful she was. If beauty was equated to royalty in this weird little world, then he summated that she had to be the Queen. 'Do you remember anything about the hunting accident?' she pressed. 'You were unconscious for two weeks. We were worried about you.'

Hunting accident? He wasn't aware he hunted; even the word felt strange to his mind. An image of a wounded stag zipped across his temporal recesses, its eyes wild with fear.

'I.I don't remember.'

'It's all right.' She had come up to him now, and she was standing so close that he could smell her perfume. 'It'll all come back to you. I'm just so glad you're awake...' She laid a slender hand on his cheek. '..my beloved husband.'

The memories came in a dizzying rush all of a sudden, and he knew it to be true.

TBC

P/S: Please R and R, as always!