AN: WHOO! 30 Chapters!  I never even thought  it would get this far. Well….now it has! *cackle*

Chapter is dedicated to….hrm….y'know what, we're not going to dedicated this chapter to anyone. SO there! This chapter just lacks this. lacks a dedication, and a title. And a disclaimer too! *giggles and hopes she doesn't get  sued*

Chapter XXX: Untitled.

Standing in front of the restaurant sends a shiver down my spine even now. Instinctively, I open my mouth to give a wisecrack to One, but the darkness in my mind reminds me he's not there. I sent out a few more bursts, but he hasn't answered. Neil's apparently stronger then Adrian, despite whatever I thought beforehand.

As soon as the little man at the counter (who I merely refer to as 'the little man at the counter') heard the footsteps, he opened his mouth for the standard greeting, "Comment je pouvez-vous aider?" But as he looked up to see who I was, his mouth did everything but drop to the floor, "Pourquoi avez-vous ici?"

"We're here to speak to the Merovingian. Isn't that obvious?"

"Ou est votre frere?"

"That is the reason we are here." Without waiting for his answer, I slid behind him and walk though the restaurant. The Frenchman isn't at his seat, but a quick glance at the surrounding tables, seeing a half-eaten piece of familiar cake with its owner gone gave me that answer. Of course, Persephone was there, looking off in the direction of the bathroom, "Persephone," I said flatly, sitting down at the chair opposite my former master's.

She turns and looks at me, the faintest hint of a smirk on her lips, "Bonjour."

"Where is the Merovingian?"

She gives me a look, "Where do you think he is?" She pointed to the empty seat and the cake.

"As we assumed."

"Now, my question," She leans in, giving me an unwanted visage of her cleavage, "Where is your brother?"

"He has……had a problem with something that we believe the Merovingian could fix."

"You'll have to wait, then," The expression on her face is bored, and she sighs, "As will we all, as usual."

"Hasn't changed, we see." I mutter quietly.

"Oui. Where did you go?"

"We lived in the city."

"Why?"

"We feared his wrath."

"He has not gone looking for you."

I blink in surprise behind my glasses, "What?"

"He does not care to look for you. You are replaceable. You were wise to not return. He would have deleted you on the spot."

"Of course he would," I comment, "That is like him. That is why we did not return."

"Take off your sunglasses," She sits back in her chair and places her napkin on her empty place in front of her.

I comply immediately. I suppose the habits from listening to her and her unfaithful husband haven't died off yet. She looked at me with an eyebrow raised, the smirk growing wider on her lips. But in a second, the smirk contracts into a confusion frown as her Italian eyebrows furrow, "I see something new in your eyes."

"We have had……adventures." I reply uncertainly, "We lost something, gained something….that is it."

"You don't want to talk about it," She says, the frown lifting into a pout.

"No, we don't," I shoot back. I shrugged my silver shoulders and leaned back in the chair, "We assume he has ranted lately?"

"You just missed it."

I look over to where One and I used to sit. The set is gone, replaced by a luscious plant of some sort.

"I can take you to the Chateau if you want, you can wait there," She says, standing.

"Very well." I stand next to her as she leads me out to the kitchen, to the exquisite entranceway/balcony. I look around for a second, and nod again. She motions to the couch.

"Wait here. When he comes back," Her tone is laced with disgust, "I will tell him someone wants to see him."

"Many thanks."

She walks back out to the restaurant and the true Matrix.

The entryway is as it always was. The marble flooring and the giant green 'M' in granite, the white stairways lined with deadly sharp weapons of all sorts, brilliant lanterns and chandeliers holding the light. Phasing up to the top floor, there is still the single door into the red-rugged hallway of many doors, the Frenchman's pathetic attempt to make his place seem like the structure of the Matrix itself. Back downstairs by jumping over the railing, seeing the two doors that lead to places.

I sit back on the couch and merely stare into the off television fixed into the set. I pinpoint the book in the shelving unit that leads to the Keymaker's old cell (which makes me wonder where the program has gone now) and the others prisoners. I laughed at them when I was guarding him, laughed at their soon-to-be unpleasant fates of deletion and torture  (good fun).