The Matrix: Legacy
Twenty
Desire

Abel awoke to find Avalon standing over him. He blinked several times. "Avvy?" he asked softly, the nickname rolling easily off his tongue. She leaned forward and gently pressed her fingers against his lips to silence him, her vanilla-mist scent filling his nose. Abel sat up, looking warily towards the couch where Cain normally slept.

He was out like a light, a pillow over his face.

Abel turned back to Avalon curiously, wondering how and why she had come back to the château. About two years had passed since he had last seen her, and she looked stunningly beautiful. Her skin was a healthy colour, neither bleached by a computer screen nor damagingly darkened by the sun; her eyes, though the colour of ice, held an unmistakeable warmth in them; her silver-black hair had grown longer though she still wore it in the style Persephone had shown her awhile ago.

Avalon smiled at him, sitting beside him on the couch, her small hand reaching up to caress his cheek. "Avalon-" he began, but she again pressed her cool fingers against his lips. Those blue eyes stared into his own lupine eyes for a long, heart-stopping moment, then Abel reached up, taking her hand in his and pulling it gently away from his mouth as his other arm slowly reached out and wrapped around her waist, drawing her slender body closer to his.

He let go of her hand and gently cupped her cheek, slowly bringing her face closer to his. Their lips met, and all reason was blown out of Abel's mind.

He.

Wanted.

Her.

He deepened their kiss softly, and her arms wrapped around him, one of her hands sliding up his neck and entangling itself in his hair. Yes, yes, yes! he thought dazedly, abruptly scooping her up into his arms. Knowing Cain, he would pick an utterly inappropriate moment to wake up. Abel somehow managed to locate the key to the room he shared with Cain but never used, though it did take him a moment to remember how to operate a door.

He got it after a moment and carried Avalon in, shutting the door behind him with his foot. The room was mercifully empty.

Abel resumed their passionate kiss as he led her to one of the beds - they'd never figured out which one belonged to who; they'd instead claimed the couches - and gently laid her down on it.

He slowly began to disrobe her --

Abel woke with a start, falling off his couch and smacking his head on the table. It took his addled mind a moment to realise that he had been dreaming. "Bloody...!" he let his head slump forward and accidentally banged it against the side of the table. "HELL!!"

He clamped his hand to his aching head, stumbling to his feet. Cookies. He wanted cookies. Abel wandered within the general direction of the door and tripped over Cain's couch, landing on his cousin. Cain could sleep through a lot of things, but another man falling on his stomach was not one of them.

He pushed Abel off, and Abel's head slammed into the table a third time. "DAMN IT!"

Cain blinked at his cousin. "Abel?" he yawned. "Why're you on th' floor?"

Abel growled several unrepeatable things in their native German under his breath before rising unsteadily to his feet. "I'm going to get cookies and vodka. Straight up. Want some?"

Cain checked his watch; it was four in the morning. "No...," he said slowly in his 'Talking-To-Crazy-People' voice, "that's all right...." Abel shrugged and walked towards the door. Cain observed worriedly that he was not walking straight.

Abel went to open the door and managed to smack himself in the face with it. "Shit!" the younger wolf yelped, clutching his forehead.

He glared at the door, turned to Cain with a classic 'Not-A-WORD-About-This-Gets-Out' look, turned back to walk out, and ran smack into the frame. Cain winced and was at his cousin's side before he could injure himself anymore. "Abel, why don't you sit down and let me get your vodka. You wanted it straight up?"

"The whole fucking bottle."

"Yes, Abel."

"And don't forget the cookies!"

Cain shook his head as he headed off. He was a bit worried about leaving Abel there by himself, but he figured that even he couldn't hurt himself if he sat still and - didn't - move!

Cain wasn't too sure of that point, however, so he decided to hurry. Finding the cookies wasn't a problem - Esau had a sweet tooth that outdid the Merovingian's taste for wine - but finding the vodka was. Esau's sweet tooth may have outdone the Frenchman's thing for wine, but even his taste for sweets was outdone by Red's taste for alcohol in general.

Cain rolled his eyes. He still didn't consider the Merovingian's decision to give the Irishman a place as one of his guards to be a good one -- as far as he was concerned, the former William Brennan could switch his loyalty elsewhere as easily as he had switched to the Merovingian. One could never be sure of the redhead who constantly changed his shell's appearance.

At least he'd dropped the stupid facial tattoos and the odd haircut in favour of a shell that looked much more like he had when they'd first encountered him - Very tall, muscular, with a head full of extremely red hair and a permanent grin.

No matter what the shell, though, Red tended to hide the liquor.

At last Cain found the bottle of vodka and started to pull it out of the floor cabinet Red had hidden it in, when the scent of moonlight flooded his nose as a female voice said, "Didn't know you drank, lover."

Cain jumped, banging his head against the top of cabinet. "Ow! Luna!" he yelped. The female program giggled from where she was sitting on the counter, her dark blue hair spilling down her back and framing her pale face. Luna was a ghost program not unlike the Twins, though she had served her purpose before the system remembered that ghosts were not a good thing. They had not expected severe resistance from the lunar program's Exiled lover.

Cain smiled at her. "The vodka's not for me, it's for Abel."

Luna sighed. "Is he still pining for the girl?"

Cain dropped the vodka. "What!?" Luna smiled, mischief in her grey eyes, but she said no more. And she had ways of distracting him so he wouldn't ask.

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After about an hour, Abel realised that Luna had shown up and therefore Cain would not be back for some time. He managed to make it to the kitchen without injuring himself. At least they had the courtesy to go somewhere where no one would walk in on them, he thought wryly. He found the cookies and the vodka and proceeded to try and get good and drunk. He was half-way there when it occurred to him that he could go see the Oracle and get her interpretation on his odd behaviour.

The Merovingian didn't like it when his programs went to see her, but it wasn't exactly verboten just frowned upon. Abel snatched a few cookies, grabbed his keys, and made a visit to the city.

All of them knew where the Oracle lived, of course. They just weren't stupid enough to try and harm her with the traitor watching over her, especially after that solid ass-kicking Neo had given the Merovingian's best bodyguards. He wouldn't know, of course. He hadn't been there due to a silver bullet between the eyes.

A growl emerged from his throat at that bitter memory, but he choked it down. Better not to scare the hell out of the coppertops... they were avoiding him enough as it was. Abel had gone for his less formal wear for this visit - black slacks, a black shirt with the top three buttons undone, and a long black trench coat.

They were looking at him as if they expected him to pull an XM8 Carbine out from under his coat and open fire… Abel looked down to where he had the submachine gun strapped to his side. No, it wasn't visible.

Stupid humans.

Abel couldn't take the looks or the smell of the tightly packed subway anymore, so he got off at the next stop. He would walk to the Oracle's. He was afforded a wide berth as he made his way off the train and into the station.

The young-looking werewolf stepped into the morning sunlight, wincing as his eyes, accustomed to dim lighting, burned as the brightness seared them. Instinctively he raised an arm to shield them, and found himself staring right into the face of the traitor.

"Wingless!" he breathed.

Suddenly this didn't seem like that bright of an idea.

To his utter surprise, Seraph didn't attack. He didn't look too thrilled to see Abel either, but he said, "She is expecting you."

Duh.

She was the Oracle.

Feeling a bit foolish that he'd thought he could just drop in for a surprise visit, Abel meekly followed Seraph. He'd not been attacked, which was a good side. However, he kept his hands free in case he needed to grab the carbine at his side.

Seraph led Abel to a rundown part of town and up some stairs - Abel could have sworn he heard Seraph muttering in Chinese, "Damn elevator is still broken...." He almost laughed at that, but refrained. Caution was best around the fallen angel.

Abel stopped dead as a familiar scent came to him, one he'd missed due to all the other scents floating about the building. All rational thought was blown out of his mind as he turned to stare at the door from which the scent was strongest.

She was here.

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Lehorin: The plural of matrix is 'matrices'. And yes, I am including the failed matrices. They are canon.