A/N: Okay, normally I don't make big author's notes. But...
1) You guys are the greatest. Really, you are. It's so wonderful to know that people are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. The Golden Spoons? I am honored! Thank you, all my loyal readers... Infamous One, Trinchardin, Naomie, Wallflower, Brem Nakada, Agent Daidouji, Kayt, Seline, Arabwel, Lotr-junkie, Micer, Fay, Shiro, Narsil, and of course my freaky darling, April.
2) Now for the bad news... sorry, guys, it's going to get worse before it gets better. Although I promise, the next chapter will be upbeat, conciliatory, even sweet and tender. Right now, though... well, let's just say that humanity and exile isn't setting too well with Smith.
3) For those of you who wanted to see the Mero and Persephone, don't worry! La Verite isn't going anywhere.
4) Neil is not Neil Rayment. Sorry folks.I know no one brought it up in reviews, but someone pointed it out to me...
5) I'm probably going to aim for a good.. hundred or so chapters. That's a good round number. Either way, the show's nowhere near over yet, and there are still two more companion pieces to finish. And that's not counting the (probably very AU) grand finale I have sketched out but not started yet! The companion piece so far is Strange New World, go take a look, and I have something planned for Brown as well.
You guys rock. Without your readership, I would likely have abandoned this a long time ago. Thank you, my friends, for reading.
And now, on with the show!
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Solace arrived to a scene of gaiety and laughed, a sharp contrast to her last twenty four hours. She was dressed in her usual dancing outfit... which was to say, very unusually indeed. Her leather vest was snug and cool against her skin, and the appreciative looks she got from her friends were more than worth the trouble of trying to lace it up all by herself. Sam even went so far as to murmur a few words in her ear that made even her blush. It was most definitely going to be a good night.
Maggie's two children were already upstairs in bed, although it was almost certain that they would sneak down to watch the festivities at some point. Informal guards had already been placed on the ends of the stairs to gently turn them back should they find themselves wandering. The rest of the adults were, by and large, out in the large expanse of backyard starting the bonfire. Solace made her way out to join them.
"Hey, Sol, looking mighty fine..."
"Duncan!"
She threw herself into the taller man's arms with a delighted laugh, and he picked her up and spun her around.
"It's been too, too long. How are you doing? How's the job? Still collecting artificial hips?" He had appropriated one at his last contract for a paperweight and she had been teasing him about it ever since.
"Nah. They've got me working on something else now. Some stupid telecommunications company. Would you like to switch to AT&T?" He put on an inane voice and struck a bored telemarketer face, and Solace doubled over giggling. "Hey, when are you going to come over and ride my bike?"
For a minute Solace stared at her old friend, wondering if he meant the innuendo the way it sounded or if he was just showing off his motorcycle, since he was an inveterate and unabashed capitalist. When he didn't follow up on the joke she decided he was just being a show-off, and smirked. "When you find a bike that isn't bright green, orange, red, or some other eyesore color. Did you have to pick that hideous shade of lime?"
"I like that color..." he escorted her out to the bonfire, where a small group of people were trying to start the slightly soggy wood. They appeared to have resorted to gasoline, and were pouring copious amounts onto the pile. Solace raised her eyebrows at it, and Duncan smirked again. "Don't worry. They're actually pretty good at starting fires."
"It's not the starting them that worries me, it's what happens when they're started and how easy it is to put them out." She shook her head, pulling up a semi-dry log to sit on.
"I thought you liked bonfires."
"I like them as long as they stay good little bonfires and don't try and kill me."
Duncan chuckled, picked her up and stood her to one side while he made himself comfortable on the log, then pulled her down onto his lap. She rolled her eyes but acquiesced, since his lap was more comfortable on her satin-covered bottom than the log. She watched as Julian came out, balancing no less than four large round trays of snacks, with what looked like a dip bowl on his head. He was actually doing very well at it, although he was only taking about a step or two every thirty seconds. Neil, Sam, and Sharon were setting up the picnic table, and Maggie had come out to orchestrate the three men lighting the bonfire. Which was a good thing, as it had gone up with a giant fwoosh.
Lyrics occurred to Solace, and she hummed them under her breath.
"Putting out fire with gasoline?" Duncan murmured in her ear as he played with the ties on her vest. Again she was struck by that peculiar unconscious sexuality, made strange by the fact that she and Duncan had been friends for almost too long for him to start flirting with her like that.
"Been so long..." she finished up the chorus. "Yeah. I can't believe they're doing that."
He shrugged. "Time honored tradition of men being stupid."
"Clearly." At least it got the fire started. A couple of people were pulling out their drums and starting to warm the heads. Solace leaned back in Duncan's lap and started to affix her bells to her ankles.
"Is anyone else showing up but you and the drummers?"
"Don't know. I think Rain was supposed to show up, and Star." She shuddered, remembering something. "I hope Kerr doesn't show up."
Duncan's hands froze. "Your ex?"
"Yeah. He was hanging around one of those cosplay games about a week ago. Tried to start a fight." She shuddered. "We left before anything happened... thank God. Smith's working on a background check."
"Smith?"
Solace froze. She'd forgotten that she hadn't told him about Smith yet. "Oh... that's right, you don't know. Ummm... well, he's an Agent..." she spun out the lie, trying to remember what she had told the others. It had been simple, short, to the point. Her summation was over within two minutes.
"You never struck me as the type to take up with the government, Sol..." Duncan said. She stuck her tongue out at them.
"Yeah, that's right. I was always the communist, and you were always the capitalist..."
"What do you mean, were?"
"... but I guess people change."
Duncan shrugged. "People always do."
The bonfire started. Solace grinned at her friend, leaped off of his lap, and moved over to the fire that was now burning merrily as tall as she was. Star had arrived at some point when she wasn't looking, and had brought out the acoustic guitar. Solace clapped her hands, starting the drummers off on a beat. Star winked at her and began picking out an accompaniment. The talk began in a low murmur around the fire, mingled with the sound of soft feet on grass and the moving of plastic forks on metal trays. Solace closed her eyes, her feet picking out a rhythm on the dirt ground that ringed the bonfire.
It wasn't a particularly skilled dance, and aesthetes around the world most likely would not have counted it among the most beautiful. But it was heartfelt and built from all the passion Solace could muster, powered by the drums and enhanced by the fire. Sweat made her body glisten in the flickering light, both from the exertion and from the heat of the fire. Her costume - leather vest, leather chaps, and satin bikini bottoms - rustled and clanged around her with the bells she had attached.
When the drummers paused to rest their weary (and probably already blistered) hands, Solace took a break as well. She went over to the cooler that had appeared while she was distracted and pulled a beer out of it, popping it open expertly and draining a third of it in one gulp. Julian winked at her from across the fire, and Duncan was applauding quietly. As she rested and cooled down, with someone... Neil? Going up to take her place, she scanned the crowd that had grown. Sharon and Sam were huddled up around a growing pile of bottles (although thankfully they were half beer and half water). Star was playing, leading the drummers while Neil cavorted and bounded around and nearly through the fire. Duncan was perched on a log talking to someone... Solace thought she recognized the other man. Smith was standing under a tree, barely out of sight. Richard...
Smith?
Wait a second...
Yes, that was Smith standing there, watching the proceedings with a look in his eyes that spoke of murders. That look alone turned her heated blood to ice water, drained all the joy from the occasion in an instant. Images flashed through her mind, of the dying fire lighting a scene of carnage, the bodies of her friends, and Smith with his hands in blood up to the elbow. He was clearly not enjoying the festivities, not even bored. He was acting like a wolf staring at the sheep he was about to kill and eat, and he knew it.
Solace moved over to where he was standing, just in case, hoping she wouldn't have to forestall any bloodshed. "Smith...? Are you all right?"
He turned to look at her so slowly and directly that she half expected to hear gears grinding and creaking in his neck. "No." He turned back and stared at the fire in the same way.
Solace was quiet for a little while, not sure what to make of the blatant rebuff. "Do you want to talk about it? Is there anything I can do?"
"No."
Silence. He was stonewalling her, and they both knew it. She didn't want to press him... wouldn't have wanted to pry even if he had been human. But... she couldn't leave it like this. Not after... "What happened at the interview?"
"I do not wish to talk about it."
It must have been bad... he was talking mechanically, without contractions again. They stood there, no more than two feet apart, and Solace turned to stare at the fire after a little while. Suddenly she didn't feel like dancing anymore.
"Hey... care for a beer?" she heard Julian murmur to Smith, and only barely heard what was said in response. It went back and forth like that for a couple of minutes, until the comment that made her fists clench and her eyes blaze.
"... I came to watch Solace prostitute herself."
That stopped not just Solace and Julian, but everyone around them fell silent as well. Slowly the area of quiescence spread until the only sound in the yard was the crickets chirping. Everyone stared at the Agent.
"You bastard..." Solace whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "You utter, unmitigated bastard."
Smith looked her up and down, a blatant and oddly lascivious look for a computer program. It was a look designed to make her feel like a whore, and although she had never been self-conscious in any of her dancing outfits that had been designed for flare and comfort rather than seduction... suddenly she felt like the lowest street-walker. The completely non-verbal exchange was over in an instant. Solace looked away first.
"How dare you..." Julian had caught the look, even if no one else had seen it in the dark. "Just who do you think you are..."
Smith turned. Julian caught the look in his eyes and was silent.
Solace stalked up to him, released from The Stare when he had turned. "You can't do this to my friends, you little shit..." she snapped, suddenly furious beyond thinking. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
He slapped her.
The noise echoed in the clearing. Even the crickets had stopped.
Solace reached down and touched the blood on her lip, felt her jaw start to ache almost immediately. That had hurt... had he even pulled that punch? What must Tank be thinking, seeing that on the other side of the Matrix? She had to deal with this, and fast...
Oh god...
Julian had grabbed Smith's arm and was trying to pin his hands behind his back. Smith tossed the man off easily. From the way he landed and the sickening crunch... or had she been the only one who heard that... something was broken.
This couldn't happen. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't going to happen.
Solace launched herself in a flying kick at Smith before she realized what she was doing (or how utterly ridiculous she had to look... so much for black leather and vinyl). He ducked, looking startled, and stood again. She crouched directly in front of him; the kick had been meant more to back him up than to actually strike him. He blinked at her, almost as though startled that she had stood up to him. She hadn't realized how much he had changed until she saw that old look in his eyes, the uncaring and unfeeling Agent look. The look that said he would just as easily squash a human as a bug... although with more satisfaction.
He reached out to slap her again, but this time she wasn't having any of it. Old instincts kicked in, the instinct to fight or run when an Agent was spotted, and she dodged.
They exchanged blows for a couple of seconds, and it wasn't until Duncan and Neil had Smith in what they thought was a secure holed and had pulled him back that they both realized what they had been doing. The shock in his eyes echoed in hers. He shook them off, thankfully with more human gestures than machine, and left without so much as a word, straightening his cuffs as he walked.
Solace stared after him until he had gone, then promptly fell to the ground and burst into tears. It wasn't what she wanted to do... what she wanted was to jack out and run screaming to the other end of the ship... but it would have to do while she was in the middle of all of these people. Her jaw was still throbbing, and now so was her cheek and her side... she'd have a black eye the next day. And yet none of that hurt as much as the sudden hostility and violence in Smith's eyes. None of it scared her as much as the thought that she might have broken cover and revealed herself for what she was to the Agent.
Solace cried, and was held, and hugged. The party split a little, some moving over to make sure Julian was all right. The rest gathered around the weeping woman, festivities forgotten, trying to ease the confusion, fear, and pain.
1) You guys are the greatest. Really, you are. It's so wonderful to know that people are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. The Golden Spoons? I am honored! Thank you, all my loyal readers... Infamous One, Trinchardin, Naomie, Wallflower, Brem Nakada, Agent Daidouji, Kayt, Seline, Arabwel, Lotr-junkie, Micer, Fay, Shiro, Narsil, and of course my freaky darling, April.
2) Now for the bad news... sorry, guys, it's going to get worse before it gets better. Although I promise, the next chapter will be upbeat, conciliatory, even sweet and tender. Right now, though... well, let's just say that humanity and exile isn't setting too well with Smith.
3) For those of you who wanted to see the Mero and Persephone, don't worry! La Verite isn't going anywhere.
4) Neil is not Neil Rayment. Sorry folks.I know no one brought it up in reviews, but someone pointed it out to me...
5) I'm probably going to aim for a good.. hundred or so chapters. That's a good round number. Either way, the show's nowhere near over yet, and there are still two more companion pieces to finish. And that's not counting the (probably very AU) grand finale I have sketched out but not started yet! The companion piece so far is Strange New World, go take a look, and I have something planned for Brown as well.
You guys rock. Without your readership, I would likely have abandoned this a long time ago. Thank you, my friends, for reading.
And now, on with the show!
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Solace arrived to a scene of gaiety and laughed, a sharp contrast to her last twenty four hours. She was dressed in her usual dancing outfit... which was to say, very unusually indeed. Her leather vest was snug and cool against her skin, and the appreciative looks she got from her friends were more than worth the trouble of trying to lace it up all by herself. Sam even went so far as to murmur a few words in her ear that made even her blush. It was most definitely going to be a good night.
Maggie's two children were already upstairs in bed, although it was almost certain that they would sneak down to watch the festivities at some point. Informal guards had already been placed on the ends of the stairs to gently turn them back should they find themselves wandering. The rest of the adults were, by and large, out in the large expanse of backyard starting the bonfire. Solace made her way out to join them.
"Hey, Sol, looking mighty fine..."
"Duncan!"
She threw herself into the taller man's arms with a delighted laugh, and he picked her up and spun her around.
"It's been too, too long. How are you doing? How's the job? Still collecting artificial hips?" He had appropriated one at his last contract for a paperweight and she had been teasing him about it ever since.
"Nah. They've got me working on something else now. Some stupid telecommunications company. Would you like to switch to AT&T?" He put on an inane voice and struck a bored telemarketer face, and Solace doubled over giggling. "Hey, when are you going to come over and ride my bike?"
For a minute Solace stared at her old friend, wondering if he meant the innuendo the way it sounded or if he was just showing off his motorcycle, since he was an inveterate and unabashed capitalist. When he didn't follow up on the joke she decided he was just being a show-off, and smirked. "When you find a bike that isn't bright green, orange, red, or some other eyesore color. Did you have to pick that hideous shade of lime?"
"I like that color..." he escorted her out to the bonfire, where a small group of people were trying to start the slightly soggy wood. They appeared to have resorted to gasoline, and were pouring copious amounts onto the pile. Solace raised her eyebrows at it, and Duncan smirked again. "Don't worry. They're actually pretty good at starting fires."
"It's not the starting them that worries me, it's what happens when they're started and how easy it is to put them out." She shook her head, pulling up a semi-dry log to sit on.
"I thought you liked bonfires."
"I like them as long as they stay good little bonfires and don't try and kill me."
Duncan chuckled, picked her up and stood her to one side while he made himself comfortable on the log, then pulled her down onto his lap. She rolled her eyes but acquiesced, since his lap was more comfortable on her satin-covered bottom than the log. She watched as Julian came out, balancing no less than four large round trays of snacks, with what looked like a dip bowl on his head. He was actually doing very well at it, although he was only taking about a step or two every thirty seconds. Neil, Sam, and Sharon were setting up the picnic table, and Maggie had come out to orchestrate the three men lighting the bonfire. Which was a good thing, as it had gone up with a giant fwoosh.
Lyrics occurred to Solace, and she hummed them under her breath.
"Putting out fire with gasoline?" Duncan murmured in her ear as he played with the ties on her vest. Again she was struck by that peculiar unconscious sexuality, made strange by the fact that she and Duncan had been friends for almost too long for him to start flirting with her like that.
"Been so long..." she finished up the chorus. "Yeah. I can't believe they're doing that."
He shrugged. "Time honored tradition of men being stupid."
"Clearly." At least it got the fire started. A couple of people were pulling out their drums and starting to warm the heads. Solace leaned back in Duncan's lap and started to affix her bells to her ankles.
"Is anyone else showing up but you and the drummers?"
"Don't know. I think Rain was supposed to show up, and Star." She shuddered, remembering something. "I hope Kerr doesn't show up."
Duncan's hands froze. "Your ex?"
"Yeah. He was hanging around one of those cosplay games about a week ago. Tried to start a fight." She shuddered. "We left before anything happened... thank God. Smith's working on a background check."
"Smith?"
Solace froze. She'd forgotten that she hadn't told him about Smith yet. "Oh... that's right, you don't know. Ummm... well, he's an Agent..." she spun out the lie, trying to remember what she had told the others. It had been simple, short, to the point. Her summation was over within two minutes.
"You never struck me as the type to take up with the government, Sol..." Duncan said. She stuck her tongue out at them.
"Yeah, that's right. I was always the communist, and you were always the capitalist..."
"What do you mean, were?"
"... but I guess people change."
Duncan shrugged. "People always do."
The bonfire started. Solace grinned at her friend, leaped off of his lap, and moved over to the fire that was now burning merrily as tall as she was. Star had arrived at some point when she wasn't looking, and had brought out the acoustic guitar. Solace clapped her hands, starting the drummers off on a beat. Star winked at her and began picking out an accompaniment. The talk began in a low murmur around the fire, mingled with the sound of soft feet on grass and the moving of plastic forks on metal trays. Solace closed her eyes, her feet picking out a rhythm on the dirt ground that ringed the bonfire.
It wasn't a particularly skilled dance, and aesthetes around the world most likely would not have counted it among the most beautiful. But it was heartfelt and built from all the passion Solace could muster, powered by the drums and enhanced by the fire. Sweat made her body glisten in the flickering light, both from the exertion and from the heat of the fire. Her costume - leather vest, leather chaps, and satin bikini bottoms - rustled and clanged around her with the bells she had attached.
When the drummers paused to rest their weary (and probably already blistered) hands, Solace took a break as well. She went over to the cooler that had appeared while she was distracted and pulled a beer out of it, popping it open expertly and draining a third of it in one gulp. Julian winked at her from across the fire, and Duncan was applauding quietly. As she rested and cooled down, with someone... Neil? Going up to take her place, she scanned the crowd that had grown. Sharon and Sam were huddled up around a growing pile of bottles (although thankfully they were half beer and half water). Star was playing, leading the drummers while Neil cavorted and bounded around and nearly through the fire. Duncan was perched on a log talking to someone... Solace thought she recognized the other man. Smith was standing under a tree, barely out of sight. Richard...
Smith?
Wait a second...
Yes, that was Smith standing there, watching the proceedings with a look in his eyes that spoke of murders. That look alone turned her heated blood to ice water, drained all the joy from the occasion in an instant. Images flashed through her mind, of the dying fire lighting a scene of carnage, the bodies of her friends, and Smith with his hands in blood up to the elbow. He was clearly not enjoying the festivities, not even bored. He was acting like a wolf staring at the sheep he was about to kill and eat, and he knew it.
Solace moved over to where he was standing, just in case, hoping she wouldn't have to forestall any bloodshed. "Smith...? Are you all right?"
He turned to look at her so slowly and directly that she half expected to hear gears grinding and creaking in his neck. "No." He turned back and stared at the fire in the same way.
Solace was quiet for a little while, not sure what to make of the blatant rebuff. "Do you want to talk about it? Is there anything I can do?"
"No."
Silence. He was stonewalling her, and they both knew it. She didn't want to press him... wouldn't have wanted to pry even if he had been human. But... she couldn't leave it like this. Not after... "What happened at the interview?"
"I do not wish to talk about it."
It must have been bad... he was talking mechanically, without contractions again. They stood there, no more than two feet apart, and Solace turned to stare at the fire after a little while. Suddenly she didn't feel like dancing anymore.
"Hey... care for a beer?" she heard Julian murmur to Smith, and only barely heard what was said in response. It went back and forth like that for a couple of minutes, until the comment that made her fists clench and her eyes blaze.
"... I came to watch Solace prostitute herself."
That stopped not just Solace and Julian, but everyone around them fell silent as well. Slowly the area of quiescence spread until the only sound in the yard was the crickets chirping. Everyone stared at the Agent.
"You bastard..." Solace whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "You utter, unmitigated bastard."
Smith looked her up and down, a blatant and oddly lascivious look for a computer program. It was a look designed to make her feel like a whore, and although she had never been self-conscious in any of her dancing outfits that had been designed for flare and comfort rather than seduction... suddenly she felt like the lowest street-walker. The completely non-verbal exchange was over in an instant. Solace looked away first.
"How dare you..." Julian had caught the look, even if no one else had seen it in the dark. "Just who do you think you are..."
Smith turned. Julian caught the look in his eyes and was silent.
Solace stalked up to him, released from The Stare when he had turned. "You can't do this to my friends, you little shit..." she snapped, suddenly furious beyond thinking. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
He slapped her.
The noise echoed in the clearing. Even the crickets had stopped.
Solace reached down and touched the blood on her lip, felt her jaw start to ache almost immediately. That had hurt... had he even pulled that punch? What must Tank be thinking, seeing that on the other side of the Matrix? She had to deal with this, and fast...
Oh god...
Julian had grabbed Smith's arm and was trying to pin his hands behind his back. Smith tossed the man off easily. From the way he landed and the sickening crunch... or had she been the only one who heard that... something was broken.
This couldn't happen. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't going to happen.
Solace launched herself in a flying kick at Smith before she realized what she was doing (or how utterly ridiculous she had to look... so much for black leather and vinyl). He ducked, looking startled, and stood again. She crouched directly in front of him; the kick had been meant more to back him up than to actually strike him. He blinked at her, almost as though startled that she had stood up to him. She hadn't realized how much he had changed until she saw that old look in his eyes, the uncaring and unfeeling Agent look. The look that said he would just as easily squash a human as a bug... although with more satisfaction.
He reached out to slap her again, but this time she wasn't having any of it. Old instincts kicked in, the instinct to fight or run when an Agent was spotted, and she dodged.
They exchanged blows for a couple of seconds, and it wasn't until Duncan and Neil had Smith in what they thought was a secure holed and had pulled him back that they both realized what they had been doing. The shock in his eyes echoed in hers. He shook them off, thankfully with more human gestures than machine, and left without so much as a word, straightening his cuffs as he walked.
Solace stared after him until he had gone, then promptly fell to the ground and burst into tears. It wasn't what she wanted to do... what she wanted was to jack out and run screaming to the other end of the ship... but it would have to do while she was in the middle of all of these people. Her jaw was still throbbing, and now so was her cheek and her side... she'd have a black eye the next day. And yet none of that hurt as much as the sudden hostility and violence in Smith's eyes. None of it scared her as much as the thought that she might have broken cover and revealed herself for what she was to the Agent.
Solace cried, and was held, and hugged. The party split a little, some moving over to make sure Julian was all right. The rest gathered around the weeping woman, festivities forgotten, trying to ease the confusion, fear, and pain.