A/N: I just saw the movie, plus I'm writing a speech on it. Alternate universe, so don't yell at me if it's not "in the box." Another thing, I'm never in the box, so you don't have to ask me to think outside the box. BTW, where is the box?

"Sing."

Sing? Why? There is no sound coming from my lips. I have no lips. You? You have lips. You sing. I'll listen. But to what? You make no sound either. Why? You aren't really here. How? You're in a game. Me? I'm a part of the game. My job? I'm just waiting for the player and his party to come… Then I tell them some things and join them. I hope to at least. If the agents find me, I'm dead. And so are they, and you. I hate choir practice, almost as much as I hate you.

"He to whom praises belong," I sing. I'm singing, damn you, so don't glare at me like that.

~@~

The stairs creaked under her feet as she tromped up to finish changing her clothes. She was wearing her pajama pants, but she still had on the shirt she had worn that day. Her mother had picked it out.

 The stairway was a switchback stair. It went up into the wall, turned ninety degrees, went about three feet forward, and turned another ninety degrees. 180 in all, making one switch back stair.

A voice whispered across her brain. "A2060474100," it said. "You have not filed your weekly check-in report. Do so now or face termination."

She sighed. Thinking back, she said, "Lemme get to the bathroom first."

"Now," said the voice.

"But the woman will freak out," she thought back, continuing up the stairs.

"We can hack her memory," the voice responded.

"If you hack it, you might mess something up!"

"File your—"

A2060474100 glared at the mirror as she approached it. Her eyes flashed gold (she had always loved how they did that when she hacked), and the mirror liquefied. Its surface raced fluidly to reform, creating a window with a man on the other side. He was in a black suit, and was apparently the one to whom she had just been speaking.

She could feel his glare though his shades.

"A2060474100," said the man. "Your scheduled weekly report is three point one four seven hours late. What is your explanation?"

"She dragged me off to Lauren Ralph Lauren," the girl said calmly, indicating her mother. She continued, "That store is the most—"

"Stay on topic."

She sighed. "If it were possible," she muttered.

"A2060474100, what is your report?"

"Oh for Christ's sake, Doe!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. She turned her back, and then walked back over to the window. "You know what my name is! Use it and save time!"

"I am Agent Doe, Rhiannon, and you will give your report or face termination!"

"You terminate me, and they terminate you, Doe. I'm the most sophisticated assassin they've got right now, and until I'm even old enough to go rogue, the one who terminates me is a dead man. As to my report," she continued, "what is there to report? I'm at a bloody high school!"

"Give the report."

Rhiannon seemed to calm down, but her reckless grin and clenched fists only made her look wilder and crazier than she had already. "Alright," she said through grinding teeth. "There are no anomalies at my high school," she said sarcastically. "No one running around trying to save the universe. The only one you'd be interested in is this one girl who thinks she's Jean Grey."

"Really?" said the man. Getting suspicious, he added, "Tell me more about her."

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DOE! THERE IS NO MUTANT CHASING YOUR ASS TO SAVE EARTH! And besides, even if she did find out you're the one who made Madeline, it's been long enough that she won't come and whup your ass for it."

She paused for air before starting anew, "She's a damn schizophrenic, Doe. Even if she does reject the system, she'd be the same way outside of it. And I'll bet those rebels wouldn't even know there's a character called Jean Grey in the first place!"

"Do you think she will reject the system?" said Doe, completely serious.

"ARE YOU AN IDIOT?!" Rhiannon yelled. "She's just crazy! She is not your precious 'One'! You don't have a cow every time some bozo thinks he's Thomas Jefferson, do you? No! So why freak out when some girl thinks she's Jean Grey!"

At a near loss for words, Agent Doe salvaged the conversation by saying, "Give me your report, without emotion."

Rhiannon sighed, "No anomalies this week, Captain Crunch. No anomalies next week, either. Or the week after that, or the week after that. Just make these reports once a month, and you won't have to see me as much."

After a moment of thought, Doe said, "Done. Any other requests?"

"Make that human I call 'mother' let me wear whatever I want. And reorganize my room. And let me get faster DSL. And cooler deserts. And no more choir practice. And a longer training time. And permission to hack for time so I can get more sleep—"

"You hone your skills by hacking, but you must live within the rules the humans do."

"Damn!"

"As to the human," he said with disgust, "you can have whatever you want."

"Yes!"

"Now I am going to check in with a few other A-lines, have your report ready next Sunday—"

"Next month," Rhiannon corrected.

"Right. Goodbye, A2060474100. And stay out of trouble."

-}^^#~@~#^^{-

A/N: What do you mean what just happened? Rhiannon is a computer programmed assassin-in-training. Agent Doe is… well he's an agent, duh! And if you haven't seen the movie yet, two things.. Why are you reading this? And the anomaly is the One, aka Neo. Note for the slow: This happens before Neo becomes the One. The rest happens afterwards. But with exams coming….trust me. You can wait for this one. We all need to be studying, although I daresay I shan't be.

PS: It's been corrected…