I don't own the whole Matrix idea or any of the original characters. I do, however, own Sara/Moonlight and Michael/Falcon, their school, and most of the people they interact with.

This story is based on a dream I had in which I was Sara. I just thought it would make a great Matrix story. Hope you enjoy!! J

Chapter One

My name was Sara Flannigan. That name is no longer mine. For now, I am Moonlight. The story of how I came to be me is a strange tale. And now, if you'd care to listen, I shall tell it…

Sara Flannigan stood on the edge of the flat roof, the wind whipping her shoulder length blonde hair. Her large green eyes took in the city below. Why did it seem so… wrong? What was wrong with her life?

"Sara! Sara!"

Sara turned around and smiled. It was Audrey, her best friend, a tiny, dark girl with eternal energy. The two girls were so different that they made a great team. There was gentle, intelligent Sara and wild, energetic Audrey.

Sara adjusted the dark blue scarf around her neck. "Hey, Audrey. What's going on with you today?"

"Nothing much. Too bad we got stuck in two different third grade classes." the dark girl replied. "I can't help it I'm not as smart as you. They shoulda known that and put us together anyway!"

Sara smiled. She knew her friend would not be able to handle the English class she was in. "Well, how do you like third grade, anyway?" she asked. "Any cute boys?"

Audrey shrugged. "Nah. Not like in your class." She winked and nudged her pale-skinned friend. "Not like Michael Yamato."

Sara grinned. Michael was a mutual friend of Sara and Audrey, the third addition to their trio. He was also in the "smart class." And he was very cute. Half-Japanese and half-Irish, he had pale skin, silky black hair, and huge, beautiful blue eyes. He was the smallest third grade boy, but he was also the fastest and one of the smartest.

"Shouldn't he be here soon?" Audrey asked.

"Yeah. He's always late, you know."

At that moment, Michael burst onto the roof, carrying his book bag and a lunchbox.

"Hey, Michael!!" both girls exclaimed.

The next day, Sara walked home from school. Just as she did when she was always alone, she felt like she did not belong in the world. Something about it was so… fake. She remembered a time when she was five and she had jumped over the back of her father's recliner chair. She had just leaped over it with no help. Her parents had gone all crazy and told her never to do that again. So she hadn't. Now…

She peered up at the buildings lining the alley where she walked. She grinned, wondering if she could jump them. Audrey would say it was her overactive imagination again. Maybe it was.

Suddenly, something bright blue lying near a dumpster caught her eye. She rushed to it and bent to examine it. It was a cloak, beautifully wrought, with some sort of silver design on the back. She gently picked it up. It didn't smell anything like the nearby garbage. It smelled… just… old. Very old.

Sara unfurled the cloak and gasped. The design, the colors… she had seen them all before. She closed her eyes, thinking hard, trying to recall where she had seen that design before. Ahh! Yes!! In her history book!! This cloak was from the Middle Ages. It was a knight's cloak, woven with the symbol of some great lord, a duke or something.

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps. Sara turned to look behind her. A man in black was entering the alley. He was dressed the same way her father always dressed-- black suit, white shirt, a tie, and sunglasses. And it scared her.

Gathering the knight's cloak to her, Sara ran. She ran as fast as she could to the apartment building where she lived with her family. If you could call it a family. Somehow, Sara knew she did not quite fit in with them.

"Sara."

It was her father.

"Come in!"

Sara's father slid into her room, his face, as usual, devoid of emotions. "Sara, your mother said that you came home quite disturbed from school today. Do you have something that doesn't belong to you, Sara?"

Sara frowned. Did he know she had the cloak? If so… how? "What do you mean, Father?" She had always called him father. How could she call him dad or daddy? He was nothing like other fathers. He seemed to have no emotions. He never did anything with the family. All he did was watch and talk on his cell phone with his coworkers, Johnson and Brown.

"Did you steal something, Sara?" He sat down slowly in her beanbag chair, taking off his glasses melodramatically.

"No." Sara frowned. No, she hadn't stolen it. She had found it. Someone had thrown it away. It belonged to her now.

Mr. Flannigan crossed his long, thin legs and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Now Sara… you have so much potential. One day, I will ask you to join me. But for now…"

Join him? What was he babbling about?

"You may have noticed by now that you take more after me than you take after your mother."

It was true. She looked nothing like her dark-haired, brown eyed mother. Come to think of it, though, she didn't really look like her father, either. No, not at all. He was tall, slim, and pale like her, true, but he was also dark-haired. And his nose, eyes, and mouth in no way resembled hers. Now that she was considering it… she began to think that she was adopted.

"Sara, I want you to help my fellow… real estate agents… when you grow older. But for now…" He stood with a slow, graceful motion. "For now… stay out of trouble." Then he left the room.

"He's not my father." It took Sara a moment to realize that she had whispered the words aloud. She shook her head to clear it of all the strangeness that she had experienced. For some reason, when she saw Mr. Flannigan coming, she wanted to run.

And what was he talking about anyway? He wanted her to join his company and help him and his coworkers? Hmmmm…. It was all so strange.

There was a war.

A local gang in the city was trying to take it over. They had somehow gotten hold of a weapons store and they were holding the citizens in panic.

Sara was afraid when the teachers sent all the children home from school four hours early. She was very afraid because she had to walk home from school. She was an eight-year-old child for heaven's sake!!

She began running down the alley, feeling more afraid than she had ever felt before. She could hear screams and gunshots all around her. What if some of those gang members came down this alley? She heard footsteps behind her and picked up her pace.

"Sara!"

She stopped running with relief. It was Michael. He would protect her. He quietly took her hand and they began walking together.

"I'll take care of you," Michael whispered.

They soon neared Sara's apartment building.

Suddenly, a man with a machine gun jumped out from behind them and pointed his gun at them. "Are you scared, little kids?" he sneered.

Both of them nodded. Michael pushed Sara behind him, ready to defend her with his life.

And then, Mr. Flannigan appeared out of nowhere and with one swift motion, shot the gang member in the head, killing him instantly. Sara's father turned to her and Michael. He was pointing his gun at Michael!

"No! Father! If you shoot him, I'll never join you!"

There was a moment of silence. Mr. Flannigan holstered his gun. "If the two of you know what's best for you, you'll never tell anyone what happened here." And suddenly, he jumped on top of the apartment building!!!

Maybe Sara did take after her father…