Magazine offices were busier than he had expected, and the lobby had been deceptively calm. A nice enough young woman with one eye on her textbook (Differential Equations, Smith noted out of the corner of his eye) had directed him to the correct floor and room, but the second he'd stepped out of the elevator he'd been greeted with a riot of sound and movement. He barely avoided crashing into a young man running down the hall with a sheaf of papers in hand, dodged a woman who walked calmly by with her eyes on the paper in front of her, and somehow made it down the hallway to her offices.
Solace, much to his amusement, was shouting into a phone. "It's called Freedom of the Press, you unmitigated prick! Look it up! Bill of Rights?" The last few words had been spoken to a dial tone, he could hear it even from the doorway. A couple other writers looked up at her and shook their heads in sympathy.
"Excuse me..." a young man squeezed past Smith into the room, paused, and looked over at him. "Are you here for someone in particular?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact..." he looked over at Solace.
"Ah. Sol!" She looked over, saw Smith... and blushed, inexplicably. "You've got a guest."
Smirks, snickers, and questioning glances all around. The Agent walked through the mass of too-curious humans, outwardly unperturbed.
"Hi..." she sighed quietly. "Sorry. Kerr asked Robinett where I was last night, so naturally the whole office knows. At a guess they assume you're the reason he went off like a firecracker last night."
Well, that made sense. The endless giggling was still aggravating, though. "I thought I would stop by and make sure you were all right..." he said slowly, aware that that wasn't helping the situation anyway. "And ask you to lunch, if you didn't have anything else to do."
She'd started shuffling papers into a stack on the desk, and paused when he mentioned lunch, looking up. "You know... That'd probably be good... I actually forgot to eat breakfast today, so..." She reached in front of her, unplugging the small box laptop from her desk. "Mike! I'm going to finish working out of my home today... I'll e-mail you the articles tonight."
The man at the end of the room nodded... Mike Robinett, or so his nameplate said. "Grist for the rumor mill?"
Solace smirked. It took her perhaps a minute to pack up. "You wish. Nothing's happening, guys! Nothing to see here, you can go about your business."
There was a low chuckle around the room and then, mercifully, everyone turned their attention back to their work. Smith was able to escort her out of the room without further comment.
"Don't mind them..." she sighed, rolling her eyes affectionately at the now-closed door. "I think they were worried about me, and they're just being silly."
He thought back to the previous night, and what he had discovered about Kerr after she had gone to bed. "With good reason. I... discovered something about your ex-husband."
Solace froze. "You ran a background check?"
Smith nodded carefully. She looked tense, worried, scared. Did she know? The way her eyes were fixed on his face, her body unmoving, seemed to indicate that she did. "He is a suspect in several small-scale terrorist attacks. He also has no recent records, driver's license or credit card accounts, which would indicate that he is keeping a low profile."
Solace exhaled slowly, and then she began to shake. "Oh God."
He touched her shoulder. She looked terrified. "You didn't know?"
"That stupid, stupid man..." she shook her head. "No. No, I didn't know, but I'm glad you found out... when you did. Should I report him... did you report him to the police?"
Smith took a deep breath. This would be the hard part. "Unfortunately, there is no proof that he is actually responsible for the attacks, and he is already under as much observation as is permitted by law. He did nothing illegal, despite the objectionable nature of his presence. There was nothing I could report him for. I did make his presence in the city known, so he may be under more strict surveillance."
They stood in the hallway so long that people started to move around them as though they were statuary. He watched her expressions slowly change from terror, to a more subdued fear, to anger, to sadness, and finally to quiet resignation. She nodded. "All right." Deep breath. "All right. Okay, so there's nothing we can do?"
"I'm afraid not."
Another deep breath. "Okay. Then, let's go to lunch."
He shadowed her out, walking just barely behind her. He told himself it was in case she fainted, turned, changed her mind, fell. Deeper down, though, logic told him that it was purely an emotional response to her distress. The knowledge mingled with the reflexive self hatred for feeling emotions, wants and desires, and the hatred for Neo, who had changed him so intrinsically. The feelings, the softer thoughts that came creeping in day by day, they were coming faster and in greater numbers now. It was getting harder and harder to resist.
"Did you have some place in mind?" Solace's voice, tight with false cheer, broke through his musing. But he actually did have some place in mind.
"It's a surprise..." he said, and then silently cursed himself for saying so. "Jump in."
She smoothed her hands over the sides of the seat on the way, shaking her head. "I'm never going to get over this car... it's just... so..."
He had to chuckle. She was ... almost ... acting like a child at Christmas. "Not what you had expected?"
"Not at all. It's beautiful."
"I enjoy beautiful things..." he said, then immediately wished he could take it back. He just knew she was going to interpret it in all the wrong ways.
"Indeed." She glanced sideways at him, smiling just a little bit. His hands tensed and then smoothed out on the steering wheel. She knew he hadn't meant it that way, and she also knew he had panicked a little when he'd realized what he'd said, and was letting him know that she understood. Wonderful woman.
There were those thoughts again. At least he didn't have to worry about being discovered; he couldn't be deleted twice. He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, still distracted.
"La Roma?"
He could tell straight away by her inquisitive tone of voice that she didn't have any idea what the restaurant was. A little smirk forced its way onto his face. "You'll see."
He took her arm like a gentleman to escort her inside. Which in fact consisted of a hollow square lined with tables, the back section containing the kitchen. An obsequious greeter showed them to their 'garden' table, as Smith requested. Solace gave him that inquisitive look again but didn't ask.
The widening of her eyes and her slowly ecstatic expression when they emerged in open daylight again was worth it. The restaurant had decided to simulate the best of the Italian cafes with a huge open air dining area, ornate wire tables, vines hanging artfully... it was everything he'd seen once in Venice, but without the persistent smell of sewage. He neatly bypassed the waiter and pulled her chair out for her to seat, for once behaving with grace, poise, and style. There was nary a hint of his usual grumpiness.
And the worst part about it was, if put to the question he couldn't have said what had made him do all this. It would have been a perfectly reasonable thing for a human to do... but he wasn't. The look on her face somehow made it all worth it, and he didn't understand that either. It was aggravating.
"How is it that I've never heard of this place before?" she asked with undisguised wonder as she looked around. This time the grin on his face was smug; any second now the owner's cousin, who was an inveterate matchmaker, would show up with his violin.
"It caters to a very specific sort of clientele, and the owner doesn't advertise. Most of his custom is word-of-mouth. He immigrated over here with his father, who started the restaurant, decades ago."
She scanned the menu, looking for something she could read. "Oh my... I don't speak Italian!"
He chuckled. "Look underneath."
"Oh."
Brief pause.
"I'm not ordering spaghetti. This place is too Lady and the Tramp for me..."
Cognitive dissonance. His thoughts reformed, and his eyes widened in a moment of panic as he realized what she was talking about. She looked up and caught his gaze, held it, both of them frozen. For one split second...
"Don't you ever watch Disney?" she smiled. The moment passed. He slumped a fraction of an inch in his chair, relieved.
"Not in a very long time."
"Pity." She was smiling more, at any rate. She seemed to be in better spirits. "So, what do you recommend?"
They settled down to haggling over who would order what, as she had evidently decided that they would order something different each so she could sample a little of everything. She demurred on the wine, citing her need to go back home and work, but she accepted the Italian soda as a reasonable thing to try. When the waiter finally returned (and Smith saw that he had been watching them discreetly from a corner) they were ready.
"So how did you discover this place?" she wanted to know. It was actually a reasonable question for which he actually had an answer.
"We apprehended a suspect here... he thought the unique architecture would protect him at least long enough to make further plans." He took a sip of water, uncomfortable with the answer he had chosen. "At any rate, several of us took note of this place and came here in later days."
"It's beautiful..." She didn't move her head and yet she couldn't stop looking around; her eyes traveled over the trellis, the walls, up to the open sky, back down to the table.
"It seemed warranted after the events of last night."
Her eyes locked with his, curious. "Oh?"
"To take your mind off of ... things"
"Ah." She looked down. Perhaps neither of them were comfortable with the intimacy of the situation.
Or perhaps not. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. Her skin was soft, cool. She was moving easily, graceful and relaxed, as though the past twenty four hours had ceased to exist when she stepped into the restaurant. Was it that easy for her? Her fingers twitched, as though she wanted to draw them over his hand but was afraid to. It all seemed very surreal. He stared down at their hands and then over at her. She was watching him, carefully expressionless.
Then she smiled, and pulled her hand back. "Thank you."
Solace, much to his amusement, was shouting into a phone. "It's called Freedom of the Press, you unmitigated prick! Look it up! Bill of Rights?" The last few words had been spoken to a dial tone, he could hear it even from the doorway. A couple other writers looked up at her and shook their heads in sympathy.
"Excuse me..." a young man squeezed past Smith into the room, paused, and looked over at him. "Are you here for someone in particular?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact..." he looked over at Solace.
"Ah. Sol!" She looked over, saw Smith... and blushed, inexplicably. "You've got a guest."
Smirks, snickers, and questioning glances all around. The Agent walked through the mass of too-curious humans, outwardly unperturbed.
"Hi..." she sighed quietly. "Sorry. Kerr asked Robinett where I was last night, so naturally the whole office knows. At a guess they assume you're the reason he went off like a firecracker last night."
Well, that made sense. The endless giggling was still aggravating, though. "I thought I would stop by and make sure you were all right..." he said slowly, aware that that wasn't helping the situation anyway. "And ask you to lunch, if you didn't have anything else to do."
She'd started shuffling papers into a stack on the desk, and paused when he mentioned lunch, looking up. "You know... That'd probably be good... I actually forgot to eat breakfast today, so..." She reached in front of her, unplugging the small box laptop from her desk. "Mike! I'm going to finish working out of my home today... I'll e-mail you the articles tonight."
The man at the end of the room nodded... Mike Robinett, or so his nameplate said. "Grist for the rumor mill?"
Solace smirked. It took her perhaps a minute to pack up. "You wish. Nothing's happening, guys! Nothing to see here, you can go about your business."
There was a low chuckle around the room and then, mercifully, everyone turned their attention back to their work. Smith was able to escort her out of the room without further comment.
"Don't mind them..." she sighed, rolling her eyes affectionately at the now-closed door. "I think they were worried about me, and they're just being silly."
He thought back to the previous night, and what he had discovered about Kerr after she had gone to bed. "With good reason. I... discovered something about your ex-husband."
Solace froze. "You ran a background check?"
Smith nodded carefully. She looked tense, worried, scared. Did she know? The way her eyes were fixed on his face, her body unmoving, seemed to indicate that she did. "He is a suspect in several small-scale terrorist attacks. He also has no recent records, driver's license or credit card accounts, which would indicate that he is keeping a low profile."
Solace exhaled slowly, and then she began to shake. "Oh God."
He touched her shoulder. She looked terrified. "You didn't know?"
"That stupid, stupid man..." she shook her head. "No. No, I didn't know, but I'm glad you found out... when you did. Should I report him... did you report him to the police?"
Smith took a deep breath. This would be the hard part. "Unfortunately, there is no proof that he is actually responsible for the attacks, and he is already under as much observation as is permitted by law. He did nothing illegal, despite the objectionable nature of his presence. There was nothing I could report him for. I did make his presence in the city known, so he may be under more strict surveillance."
They stood in the hallway so long that people started to move around them as though they were statuary. He watched her expressions slowly change from terror, to a more subdued fear, to anger, to sadness, and finally to quiet resignation. She nodded. "All right." Deep breath. "All right. Okay, so there's nothing we can do?"
"I'm afraid not."
Another deep breath. "Okay. Then, let's go to lunch."
He shadowed her out, walking just barely behind her. He told himself it was in case she fainted, turned, changed her mind, fell. Deeper down, though, logic told him that it was purely an emotional response to her distress. The knowledge mingled with the reflexive self hatred for feeling emotions, wants and desires, and the hatred for Neo, who had changed him so intrinsically. The feelings, the softer thoughts that came creeping in day by day, they were coming faster and in greater numbers now. It was getting harder and harder to resist.
"Did you have some place in mind?" Solace's voice, tight with false cheer, broke through his musing. But he actually did have some place in mind.
"It's a surprise..." he said, and then silently cursed himself for saying so. "Jump in."
She smoothed her hands over the sides of the seat on the way, shaking her head. "I'm never going to get over this car... it's just... so..."
He had to chuckle. She was ... almost ... acting like a child at Christmas. "Not what you had expected?"
"Not at all. It's beautiful."
"I enjoy beautiful things..." he said, then immediately wished he could take it back. He just knew she was going to interpret it in all the wrong ways.
"Indeed." She glanced sideways at him, smiling just a little bit. His hands tensed and then smoothed out on the steering wheel. She knew he hadn't meant it that way, and she also knew he had panicked a little when he'd realized what he'd said, and was letting him know that she understood. Wonderful woman.
There were those thoughts again. At least he didn't have to worry about being discovered; he couldn't be deleted twice. He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, still distracted.
"La Roma?"
He could tell straight away by her inquisitive tone of voice that she didn't have any idea what the restaurant was. A little smirk forced its way onto his face. "You'll see."
He took her arm like a gentleman to escort her inside. Which in fact consisted of a hollow square lined with tables, the back section containing the kitchen. An obsequious greeter showed them to their 'garden' table, as Smith requested. Solace gave him that inquisitive look again but didn't ask.
The widening of her eyes and her slowly ecstatic expression when they emerged in open daylight again was worth it. The restaurant had decided to simulate the best of the Italian cafes with a huge open air dining area, ornate wire tables, vines hanging artfully... it was everything he'd seen once in Venice, but without the persistent smell of sewage. He neatly bypassed the waiter and pulled her chair out for her to seat, for once behaving with grace, poise, and style. There was nary a hint of his usual grumpiness.
And the worst part about it was, if put to the question he couldn't have said what had made him do all this. It would have been a perfectly reasonable thing for a human to do... but he wasn't. The look on her face somehow made it all worth it, and he didn't understand that either. It was aggravating.
"How is it that I've never heard of this place before?" she asked with undisguised wonder as she looked around. This time the grin on his face was smug; any second now the owner's cousin, who was an inveterate matchmaker, would show up with his violin.
"It caters to a very specific sort of clientele, and the owner doesn't advertise. Most of his custom is word-of-mouth. He immigrated over here with his father, who started the restaurant, decades ago."
She scanned the menu, looking for something she could read. "Oh my... I don't speak Italian!"
He chuckled. "Look underneath."
"Oh."
Brief pause.
"I'm not ordering spaghetti. This place is too Lady and the Tramp for me..."
Cognitive dissonance. His thoughts reformed, and his eyes widened in a moment of panic as he realized what she was talking about. She looked up and caught his gaze, held it, both of them frozen. For one split second...
"Don't you ever watch Disney?" she smiled. The moment passed. He slumped a fraction of an inch in his chair, relieved.
"Not in a very long time."
"Pity." She was smiling more, at any rate. She seemed to be in better spirits. "So, what do you recommend?"
They settled down to haggling over who would order what, as she had evidently decided that they would order something different each so she could sample a little of everything. She demurred on the wine, citing her need to go back home and work, but she accepted the Italian soda as a reasonable thing to try. When the waiter finally returned (and Smith saw that he had been watching them discreetly from a corner) they were ready.
"So how did you discover this place?" she wanted to know. It was actually a reasonable question for which he actually had an answer.
"We apprehended a suspect here... he thought the unique architecture would protect him at least long enough to make further plans." He took a sip of water, uncomfortable with the answer he had chosen. "At any rate, several of us took note of this place and came here in later days."
"It's beautiful..." She didn't move her head and yet she couldn't stop looking around; her eyes traveled over the trellis, the walls, up to the open sky, back down to the table.
"It seemed warranted after the events of last night."
Her eyes locked with his, curious. "Oh?"
"To take your mind off of ... things"
"Ah." She looked down. Perhaps neither of them were comfortable with the intimacy of the situation.
Or perhaps not. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. Her skin was soft, cool. She was moving easily, graceful and relaxed, as though the past twenty four hours had ceased to exist when she stepped into the restaurant. Was it that easy for her? Her fingers twitched, as though she wanted to draw them over his hand but was afraid to. It all seemed very surreal. He stared down at their hands and then over at her. She was watching him, carefully expressionless.
Then she smiled, and pulled her hand back. "Thank you."