A/N: Sorry I took this long with this. Crawling through my journal of chicken scratches where I'd scribbled disjointed paragraphs here and there (not in order, mind) was killing my eyes. I felt compelled to, ah, resume, when my reviews suddenly doubled (snicker, shameless plug). Still, I don't write for the reviews, but they are nice. Well, enough of me, just know that I've got a lot of material for the other chapters and that everyone should get Josh Groban's new album! Yes! Every word is gorgeous.

By the way, I was sort of stuck in an elevator for more than ten minutes, in the dark,

and I'm aware that it does get a mite stuffy…

Centaur, you're the best. Jie, if that's not a dorky conversation topic, I don't know what is. Well, that's still true.

But what's the point if I'm concealing not only love… all other feeling? ~ Where I want to be, Chess soundtrack

You better let somebody love you before it's too late. ~ Eagles, Desperado

"The lift's stuck. So now what?" You blink, hard, several times, until you start to see dim outlines in the darkness.

You're feeling rather silly standing in the dark while Trinity fumbles with what appears to be the control panel on the opposite side of the lift. After a few moments, she curses quietly. The slightest sound echoes around the silent cell.

"Nobody's answering the bell," she mutters. You hear her pressing the button several times over. "It looks like everyone's at the gathering."

"Shit." No wonder it was so packed. "When will they be back?"

"Most likely, tomorrow morning."

Rewind.

You're in a fairly small elevator with your female second in command, in the dark, where no one can hear you. You're stuck for the night.

At least the elevator is well ventilated – there's a residually large gap between the elevator doors; probably a result of its being jammed or pried apart once too often. The air will be stale later, but perhaps warmer.

"It looks like we're in for a long wait, then," you comment dryly, moving over to examine the control panel. You wonder if pressing all the buttons will do any good. You've always wanted to do that.

A dull thud resounds from behind, but it's just Trinity resting her head against the wall. It sounds like a good idea to you, but you've gone barely three steps before eliciting a sharp gasp. Trinity's sitting down, after all, you've just trampled on her hand. With delicate care, you manage to sit down without bumping into her again.

"How long till daybreak?" you ask after just a moment. You feel as if you're asking, "Are we there yet?"

"I don't know, maybe six hours."

You wonder out loud what you'll do until then.

Trinity makes no reply to that.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" you venture nervously, after attempting and failing to study your fingernails for the third time. Being in the dark is very dull.

She asks, with a touch of hesitation in her voice, "about what?"

You stop. You didn't really think of what you were going to ask her. In the end, you ask her the first question that pops into your mind.

"Well, do you think we're going to die?"

"That's a nice question," she comments wryly.

You suddenly realize how morbid you sounded. "Actually, I was just wondering if the elevator was going to crash."

"Zion hasn't seen an equipment malfunction for a long time. We're safe."

"Oh."

You trail off there, trying to think of another question.

"How long will we be staying in Zion?"

"Depends on how long we need to recharge the ship."

"How long is that?"

"Twenty-four, maybe thirty hours."

"Well, at least we know Morpheus won't leave without us." You add with a leaden tone. You've just answered your second question too.

You ask yourself, this time, why Trinity's being so passive and resolute over the jammed elevator. You'd expect her to have single-handedly reduced the cage to iron filings by now.

You just discover the meaning of the famous state of being off-duty.

"Neo?"

You blink. You just realize how close you were to falling asleep in your thoughts. "Trinity?"

"'Course it's me." You can hear a suppressed smile in that. "I'm kind of tired. I think I'll go to sleep now."

"Okay," you reply, shaking yourself mentally, "maybe I will, too."

You hear the material of Trinity's dress – that gorgeous dress – sliding against the floor as she shifts around, trying to get into a comfortable position. Something, her knee, probably, bumps your thigh. You expect her to pull away, but instead her shoulder touches yours. You feel as though you can feel every slightest movement she makes. You realize she's shivering slightly.

"It's getting cold in here, Neo," she whispers.

"O- no, that's… not good. Erm." You drop your words there abruptly, hoping feverishly that a thermostat would fall from the sky. When none does, you try to remember all the things that have kept you warm before. Hot milk. Blankets. Sweaters…

Sweaters. No wonder she was cold! You lift your oversized shirt over your head quickly and shove it, perhaps a bit too eagerly, in her general direction. There's a pause.

"Neo?" Voice husky with sleepiness.

"Don't worry about me," you say pompously, "put it on."

Trinity does so. You hear her yawn as she settles against you again, but it sounds, strangely, more like a sigh. Feeling for her hand in the darkness and for once finding it, you're surprised to find it nearly as warm as yours. You squeeze it gently all the same. Body heat always was one of the best defenses against the cold.

Trinity murmurs something into your shoulder that, to you, sounds suspiciously like "let go". You do, but she makes no move away from you. You find you're not especially uncomfortable with her nestled next to you. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eventually, her breathing evens out, and she stops fidgeting. She's gone to sleep with her head leaning on your shoulder. You think about what she said.

Soon you realize that you are feeling cold. Funny, considering everything Tank ever told you about Zion being in the earth, 'where it's still warm'. Judging by the diameter of your oversized sleeve, you can probably get it off Trinity's arm with some fancy fingering. She hasn't buttoned the front, which is good news for you, since you never were really good at fancy fingering.

You're not stealing it, it's yours, and you'll share it anyway… it's a bit of a stretch to make it into a blanket, but if you can-just-get-it-off…

With slight trepidation, you tug gently on one sleeve, the one further from you which you can reach with both hands. Unfortunately, that's all the more encouragement Trinity needs in believing that you are a pillow. She rolls on her side and ends up landing gently on you.

Initially, you were glad she'd fallen asleep, because she kept asking you questions you couldn't quite answer. You're not exactly rushing to wake her up… and besides, she's very warm. At least, you try to tell yourself that when the truth is, you like watching her. No matter how dim the lighting, she's beautiful when she sleeps. She's beautiful when she's awake, too, but if she ever caught you staring at her like that, she'd probably… throw you to the other end of the room. Or something like that.

You wish you could see her face. The warmth of her neck, resting on yours, though, makes up for the loss. Her hair feels soft, covering your ear. Slowly, her quiet breathing, the steady rise and fall of her chest against yours, lulls you to slumber.

Some part of your functioning mind reminds you that you'll have cramps tomorrow if you sleep with your neck against the wall at its current angle. Cautiously, you slide down until you're lying prostrate on the cold metal floor, Trinity beside you and gently crushing you.

Your right hand is pinned down, but your left strays to her back. You tell yourself you're only holding her to keep her from falling. You never were good at answering questions.

How long till morning?

You're left with the foolish issue in mind as you fade out of consciousness. At least you'll have sweet dreams tonight.

~*~