Smith found her the next afternoon, going through the papers she had had Tank create for her. It had been a long, tedious process, resulting in her getting perhaps six hours of sleep in the last two days. Her living room had become one giant mess of paper, with a brand new (so new, in fact, that it had never seen the inside of a store) file cabinet upended on its side, the keys still dangling from one open drawer.

"What happened?" It had taken weeks of association for her to become accustomed to his moods, but she thought she detected a note of concern in his voice. How remarkable.

"My ex-husband stopped by last night, after I got home." She sighed heavily and set down her discharge papers from a supposedly (now defunct) psychiatric institute. "Actually he was here waiting for me."

He was silent for a bit, probably not knowing what to say. "What happened?"

Solace was rapidly discovering that she didn't have to feign being upset and nearly hysterical. "He accused me of being in collusion with the government to get him into trouble," she murmured in a near-whisper, hands freezing on the documents. "He wanted me to stop associating with you… dating you was the exact phrase he used." She wasn't entirely sure how Smith was going to react to that one.

The former Agent stood in the entryway, watching her. His face, although no longer shrouded by the sunglasses he had habitually worn, was still closed to her scrutiny. "What else did he say?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "He said that I was under scrutiny too, since we were seen so much together. He said that I would get in trouble for it." Her voice cracked. Dammit. "He… threatened to cause trouble for me.'

"Can he?"

Yes. Oh god, yes. She took a deep breath. "I think so. I don't… " she gestured at the papers that were spread out all around her. "I dug out everything I could find… might as well try and put this in some order. I don't know if he can do anything…"

Smith knelt down by her. Now that he was so close she could see there was something strange… something different about him. Her mind, however, refused to focus in on him close enough to be able to tell what it was. "Solace… have you broken any laws? Have you committed any serious crime?"

Terrorist acts. Shootings. Explosions, breaking and entering, data theft. "No." It was barely a whisper. This identity, this self, the one that had been almost entirely erased when she was fourteen, had never committed any crimes.

"Have you been found unable to care for yourself, or mentally incompetent in any way?"

"No."

"Has there been any point where you were examined and diagnosed as a danger to yourself or others?"

"No."

"Then there is most likely nothing he can do to you, beyond financial harassment… and if that should happen, I will take care of it." She looked up at him, blinking, startled more than she could admit. "If he should try to contact you again, call the police. Do not speak with him."

Solace ran her fingers through her hair, worried. "I don't know… I don't want to hurt him or get him into any trouble, I just … want him to leave me alone."

"But he will not, as long as you remain out of his control and associating with people or in places of which he does not approve. Solace, he is a …"

"Control freak." She sighed. "I know. I'm just surprised he's turned up again, after so long."

Smith didn't say anything to that, instead clearing himself a place to sit down and glancing around at all the documents that surrounded them. "You decided to search through your paperwork…"

"Looking to see if there was any way he could hurt me through my past…" she reached out, brushing her fingertips over the mess of psychiatric reports, admittance papers, therapy bills. "Mostly because of this whole mess."

"Your autism."

"Yes…" it was almost a whisper. "It's not exactly a condition that goes away. But it can be lived with, I guess." Hopefully he would never check up on that. She and Tank between them had managed to cobble together a diagnosis that looked like a mild form of autism, some sort of alienation disorder that would account for a long stay in a hospital and then a subsequent release and a sort of life that could be faked… but they didn't know if the deception would hold up against Agent scrutiny. They didn't want to chance finding out, either.

"Is that why you chose a career as a journalist?"

"Freelance writer. But… yes. It's the kind of career I can do from my house if I have to. If I have a bad day…" she took a deep breath. Let it out again. "Haven't had one in a while, which is good. But… I don't want Kerr to try and get it held against me, either."

"There is, legally, no course of action he can take that will debilitate you. The records are all perfectly clear: you are able to function, to fend for yourself and account for your actions, you are able to hold down a job, and you are not a danger to yourself or to others. If he attempts to have you involuntarily committed, you can have friends or co-workers testify to that… I will personally organize it." Coming as it did from him it sounded almost more like a threat than a reassuring promise. Still, it seemed to help, a little.

"Thank you…" she murmured, eyes prickling suddenly with suspicious tears. This whole damn thing was depressing her more than she'd thought. Or maybe it was just the pressure of having her entire made-up life under scrutiny, and knowing that she could be killed in seconds if he found out. And yet it somehow wasn't about that anymore. His fingertips brushed her cheek, making her freeze, making her breath catch in her throat, fear and apprehension and wonder all rolled into one.

"Solace…"

She wanted to respond, to say something. She couldn't.

He stood up and moved into her kitchen. She heard the sound of water running, heard what sounded like ice clinking into a glass. She heard cabinet and refrigerator doors open and close. She heard footsteps on paper again, and then she watched him sit down beside her with two glasses of crystal clear water, two ice cubes floating in each. The image seemed to sharpen itself as she focused on the glass, and the slender yet strong hand that held it.

"Drink…"

He had to wrap her hand around the glass before she realized what he wanted her to do. Mechanically, automatically, she drank. He took the glass from her again and set it down on the table behind them, set his own glass down, and pulled her into an embrace. She was so startled, so confused by everything that had transpired in the last thirty six.. forty eight? Seventy two? She didn't even know anymore. In the last few days. It had all happened in the last few days. Smith stroked her hair, and for a little while she forgot who he was. She forgot that he was an Agent, a computer program, and that she was a human being taught to fight the control of his kind. For a little while all she knew was that she was confused and afraid, and he was warm and comforting and made her feel safe. He stroked her hair, and she knew he would take care of it all.

Reality reasserted itself with an annoying jolt as her phone rang. "Oh my god…" she sat up, nearly slamming the top of her head into his chin. "I forgot to call Mike…"

Smith reached out onto the table and picked up the phone, keeping her pinned in his arms and on the floor. "Hello?"

Silence. Solace realized what looked strange about Smith… his cuffs were unbuttoned, his shirt as well, a little lower down than was really proper. His tie was slightly askew. Some attempt, perhaps, to dress more casually? Or had there been something going on she wasn't aware of?

"She is fine. There was… as I understand it there was an altercation with her ex-husband. Yes. I see." Pause. "No, I would say she is not in any condition to come in to work today. In fact, I would strongly recommend that she be excused from her duties for the rest of the week."

Solace opened her mouth to protest and promptly got a hand clamped over her mouth. She briefly considered biting him. Nah. That probably wouldn't work anyway.

"She seems to have suffered considerable mental and emotional distress. She has also told me that she has been threatened, both physically and otherwise. I think it might be wise if she …" the barest of pauses, probably while he figured out what the right words were. "took a few days off." Pause. "I don't know. I don't believe so… if he did…" Smith looked her up and down. Solace blushed. "There is no sign of it."

"He didn't hit me…" Solace said, guessing what Mike had been asking. Smith gave her the look that said he didn't believe her, and she turned her gaze to the carpet. "Much. It was an even trade."

"There was something of a struggle, she says. I could take her to the hospital…"

"No!"

Long silence. Solace sighed, realizing it probably wasn't up to her. "All right. Yes. Yes, of course. I will contact you later. Thank you. Good-bye."

Solace stared at him in disbelief, hoping it registered as shock on her face. It was so entirely out of character, so unlike the blank-faced killing machines she'd seen in the Agents up till that point, that she didn't think she could move from the spot where she sat, huddled in his arms. Then again, this was also Agent Smith, who for some reason over the last several weeks had been displaying unprecedented degrees of human-like behavior and emotions. And although it had been what she had been half-hoping for… now she had no idea what to do or expect.

"I'm being managed?" she got out, finally.

"You are in no condition to manage yourself."

"I'm fine."

"You're hysterical. And quite probably in shock as well. You need to rest, and you need help to take care of the situation." There was the faintest of pauses. "I can call your friend Julian to come and take care of you, if you prefer."

She took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any. And the echoes of Julian's words were still in the back of her mind. Men… such fragile creatures. But this wasn't a man, it was a machine. A machine, her mind whispered again, built in the form of a man, so are they really so different? "No…" she murmured.

"Hmm?"

"No…" she turned, pulling out of Smith's embrace but laying her hands over his forearms, raising up to a kneeling position on the floor. "No… Please stay." She dragged her gaze up to meet his eerily blue eyes. Shouldn't programs have less captivating eyes? "I'd… feel more comfortable… if you did…" She had no idea what to say and trailed off, disoriented.

His hands turned up ever so slightly, returning the gesture. His palms were warm on her skin, fingertips gripping her arms lightly. She could feel the heat of his body all the way down the wrists to where his suit jacket began. She was only wearing a light blouse and a relatively short skirt, just below the knees instead of sweeping down to her feet. Suddenly it didn't feel like enough. His eyes were so blue, so close.

"What do you need?" He asked it so softly, and for one split second, horrifying and tantalizing as it was, she thought he was propositioning her. And maybe, in a way, in the only way he knew how, he was. She didn't know enough yet to be sure.

"I need…" What did she need? What did she want from him? What the hell had he meant by that obscure and surreal question? "I need…" best answer it honestly. "… to feel safe." That was for damn sure. She took a deep breath, her fingers digging into the fabric over his arms. "I need to know that no one is going to try to hurt me, or kill me… or do other horrible nasty things to me." She smiled, but it was weak at best, and they both knew it. His fingertips were moving gently over her arms, distracting, puzzling. "I need to know… that everything's going to be all right. That … everything is going to go back to normal again."

Smith nodded slowly. It looked as though he had asked the question for edification purposes only, for more data in his mind, more information on humans and their reactions. The conclusion was both disappointing and reassuring. And then it occurred to her to say something she knew they both might regret. But what the hell.

"I need to know… what there is between us."

He blinked, and dropped his hands immediately as though she'd physically struck at him with the one simple statement. "What are you talking about?" His voice, although she hadn't registered the change (again) was more Agent than human.

"I…" Had she been mistaken? Had it just been solicitous kindness that had spurred on the last fifteen, twenty minutes of action. "Never mind." She looked away, now blushing and embarrassed to have drawn any conclusions at all out of his behavior. "Sorry. I'm…" Oh god. She'd just hit on a computer program. "Sorry."

Slowly, gracefully, Smith rose to his feet. Somewhere in his mind she was sure the statement 'humans are strange' was running around. Damn. Whatever had been between them, hovering unspoken and un-acted upon in that one moment, she had completely shattered the opportunity. With any luck, there would be another one. Somewhere down the line. Sometime. She hoped.

"I will help you clean up…" he said in that business-like tone that told her she was being managed again. "And then we will go for a walk. You should take a day or two and … relax… before you attempt to get your affairs in order."

"Yes, Smith," she murmured, bowing her head like an obedient girl. And somewhere in those few days, for she had no doubt that he would be keeping a close eye on her in that meantime, she would return the favor and perhaps discover what in the name of all that was human had just happened. Solace had the feeling she'd just missed something very important.

Except that she couldn't for the life of her figure out what that was.