The Matrix: Legacy
Twenty-Five A
The Morning After:
Part 1

Danaë awoke, sore and naked, in the arms of an equally naked Ghost. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, then images of the past night flooded into her mind, and she cringed. She slid out of his arms; luckily, Ghost slept like a dead man, so he didn't stir. This was bad.

Danaë looked at the sleeping man, and felt her heart break. She had taken advantage of his drunken stupor and led him to believe she was Trinity. She hadn't been entirely sober herself, of course, but still.... Quickly, she dressed and slid out of Ghost's room. It was early in the Zion 'morning', so no one saw her leave.

She didn't return to her room, just wandered over Zion, sinking further into a depressed state that dragged her further down as she headed to the engineering level to be alone.

"They're starting to suspect," she heard someone say. Eyes widening, she ducked down to where she couldn't be seen. "Is that so?" mused another voice that made Dana's blood run cold. She remembered that voice, remembered its owner holding her against him, razor blade to her neck, saying softly to her, "We don't think we'll kill you... not just yet...."

Even the memory scared her.

"Yes, it is!" the other voice growled. "There's rumours going around Zion about a part-program being here. A lot of people think it's bullshit, but Deadbolt believes it, and he is not someone D'Artagnan wants looking for him."

"That is an excuse. He wants the Ghost and the woman, and he wants them now."

"Ever hear of shore leave? Logos isn't going out for at least three days."

"That is ample time to give them Kishen."

"And what does the Bomb-Happy One have to do with it?"

"He is like D'Artagnan."

There was silence for a long moment. "You lie," the voice growled.

"We cannot lie," the other voice replied. "It is not in our programming. The Frenchman wants him out of the way, and he wants the woman and the Ghost."

"If he gets them, the girl will go in after them."

"That is our hope," purred the British accent, causing Danaë to shudder.

"You and your twin are sick bastards."

"Not at all. She caused us injury. She intrigues us."

"Give them Kishen and get the others in the Matrix. We will take it from there."

"Fine."

"Oh, and Asmodeus?"

"What?"

"Do not let him fail."

Footsteps approached, and Danaë ducked back into the concealing shadows. She looked out again to see a dark head walk past, too far away for her to see who it was.

But she knew the name. Asmodeus was a Zionite, a young loner who was even more antisocial than AK. It was rumoured that he had a sympathy for the machines, but this had never been proven, mainly because his vocabulary consisted largely of monosyllabic words such as 'yes', 'no', and 'hn'. As far as the Council knew, no deals could be made with those three words. Danaë had heard Asmodeus say more in that conversation than she had in the four or five years she'd been free.

Frowning, Danaë started to sneak after him, but winced as she pulled her sore abdomen. Immediately guilt overtook her, guilt over her "seduction" of Ghost. Granted, he had kissed her first, but she shouldn't have gone along with it.

She hadn't been thinking.

Danaë crept back to her niche, bringing her knees close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, allowing guilty tears to fall. That was where Sparks found her an hour later.

Strangely enough, the operator didn't say anything, just hugged her. Danaë found herself spilling the story to him, causing his eyes to widen. Ghost gets horny when he's wasted? Jesus Christ, no wonder he doesn't drink! And he thought she was Trinity? Damn fool. He can't let go, Sparks thought as he tried to comfort the guilt-ridden girl.

Sparks couldn't believe he was the only one on the ship who realised that Danaë had a major self-esteem problem. Good God, it was evidenced in how vastly different her RSI was from her physical body! He had talked to AK about it, and her foster father had mentioned that not much had been done to give the girl good self-esteem when she was still plugged in. The middle child between a mama's boy and a daddy's girl, she had often been the odd one out.

She had first come to the Rebellion's attention under the pseudonym Danaë when she was looking up methods of treating multiple gunshot wounds and wounds caused by explosives on the internet. This wasn't exactly on the list of what a fourteen-year-old girl Needed To Know, so the Gnosis had been ordered to survey her.

The operator nearly had a heart attack when they looked in and found her taking care of a wounded Agent. Then he nearly fainted when he realised that her patient was a wounded Agent. Word went out that someone had managed to hurt an Agent, which eventually led them to Krsna, the Mad Bomber. Neo had had to be called in because the kid left no virtual trail for them to follow, meanwhile Danaë was getting to know the Agent they identified as Jones.

The operator actually did faint when Jones, for reasons unknown to probably even him, protected his caretaker when Agents came to bug her and wipe her memory of the incident. To this day, Danaë still didn't realise that her patient had been an Agent.

As far as Sparks knew, only Jones had treated her like a person, not a third wheel. Then the Gnosis had unplugged her, bringing her to Zion, and she had made a name for herself in the hospital wing during the final battle. This had helped, but Danaë still had trouble with her self-esteem. Her crush on Ghost had been particularly bad for her mental health, and now this....

God, he wanted to punch Ghost so bad.

Not for sleeping with her, of course, Ghost most likely would not remember that, but for failing to see what his depression was indirectly doing to her.

Damn it.

Sparks had just about had his fill of angst. He was a light-hearted guy by nature, and the Logos was starting to get to him. He was going to find a way to fix this one, or he might just go crazy.

---------

The crew of the Logos was walking for the ship when Commander Locke and five soldiers caught up with them. "Niobe, wait!" Locke called. Niobe made an odd face that said 'The next person who interferes in my departure is Going To Die' before turning around with her usual bland expression.

"What is it, Jason?"

She still called him Jason; no one knew why.

Locke gave her an unreadable look as he said, "I'm afraid one of your crew members can't accompany you."

"And why not?" Niobe demanded, going straight into 'I-Will-Kick-Your-Ass-If-You-Even-Think-Of-Messing-With-My-Crew' mode.

Locke did not answer, instead he turned to another of the crew. "Krsna Aatmik, I must ask you to accompany to the brig."

The man seemed to pale some, but suspiciously demanded, "Why?"

"A matter of security was brought to our attention," Locke replied, "and some research was done to confirm our suspicions. You hide your tracks well, Aatmik, but we know the truth now."

"What 'truth'?" Ghost demanded.

"He's a program."

The Matrix: Legacy
Twenty-Five B
The Morning After:
Part 2

A rather dishevelled and smiling Horizon made her way into her apartment, a certain white jacket hanging off her shoulders. Seraph was surprisingly old-fashioned, but even though he wasn't for premarital, he did make out like a pro.

Horizon flipped on the light and stared at the figures on her couch. There was Avvy, curled up with the man she'd walked out of Freedman with. Horizon almost squealed, it looked so cute. She was all but pinned between the man - Abel, Seraph had said he was called - and the back of the couch, his arms holding her against him. Grinning, she ran to get her camera. Blackmail photos were blackmail photos, after all.

---------

Avalon woke slowly, knowing and liking where she was. Abel made for a nice blanket and pillow rolled into one. She snuggled closer to him, nestling her head against his shoulder, and was startled when his lips pressed softly against her forehead. She twisted slightly in his arms, looking up at him with a soft, tired smile. 'G'morning,' she signed.

He kissed her cheek. "Morning. I'm glad you weren't hurt."

'I knew you wouldn't hurt me.'

Abel wasn't as confident as she was, but he figured that it didn't matter right now. The situation was over, he'd plotted Cain's punishment, and she was here, in his arms, right now, therefore everything was good.

She shifted in his arms, turning to face him, nuzzling his neck a little before reaching up to rub her thumb over his soul patch. 'Do you have any idea of how sexy this little patch of chin fuzz is?' she signed with her other hand.

He grinned, kissing the top of her head again. "I do now." She moved up so that their faces were level and rubbed her cheek against his.

Abel turned his head and captured her lips in a soft, chaste kiss that quickly moved beyond chaste and well into the realms of sin. Unfortunately for both, before Abel could get past second, the light flipped on. "It's all well and good that you love each other," a tired Horizon said, half in her native Spanish, "but could you please hold off on love-making until after I go to work? The walls are thin."

Avalon turned a very brilliant red as Horizon vanished back into her room; Abel just chuckled. "Don't worry about it," he told her in a low tone. "We'll make up for it after she leaves...."

'We can't,' she signed sadly. 'I go to work before she does.'

Had this work of fanfiction been for an anime, Abel would have fallen off the couch in a very comical manner. However, as it is not, Abel just sighed and whispered in her ear, "Waiting will just make it better, then," and laughed as she turned bright red again.

He kissed her again, but this time kept himself under control and did not progress past first base. He almost lost control when her fingers slid into his hair, but managed to calm himself and keep control of the situation.

At last they both rose, Avalon with slightly swollen lips and both of them looking rather dishevelled. She rose to her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, vanishing into her room to change.

"She's quite a piece, isn't she?"

Abel turned to Horizon, startled to see her up. The Hispanic girl grinned. "I'm a morning person. She isn't, and yet she seems to be surprisingly horny in the morning. Weird." Abel arched an eyebrow at the blunt girl, then grinned as he realised who he was smelling all over her own scent of toffee.

"I've heard tell that Seraph gets rather amorous in the evening. Is this true?"

She blushed and returned to her task of making coffee. Abel smirked and grabbed a mug for himself, pulling the pot out from under her hand before she could get herself some. She glared until he poured the coffee into her mug before filling his own. "Old habits die hard," he said by way of excuse, grinning.

There was a series of knocks to the beat of 'shave and a haircut, two bits,' and Horizon laughed. "Sounds like Avvy wants her coffee," she teased the other girl as she tossed her friend a mug. Avalon caught it left-handed, mainly because she was using her right to flip Horizon the bird.

Abel again played the gentleman and poured Avalon her coffee, discreetly taking in her skirt and polo shirt. They both smelled of different teas and sandwiches, indicating that she worked at least part-time in a tea shop. Abel then got an interesting mental picture of Avalon in her Trinity outfit standing in a tea shop and almost choked on his coffee.

He coughed and grinned at the two girls, not explaining what he found amusing. They both glared, at least until Abel offered to walk Avalon to work. Horizon grinned and all but shoved them out the door.

Neither said a word (or signed, in Horizon's case). Abel simply reached down to take her hand in his and didn't let go. As they walked out of the building, Abel felt eyes on him and looked back to see a jacket-devoid Wingless watching him.

Shit, the angel had put on some muscle since leaving the château…

Abel got the message. Horizon was Seraph's, and messing with her would not be a good thing. Abel made a mental note to keep Horizon's relationship with Seraph a secret.

---------

He dropped Avalon off at work, leaving all her co-workers quizzing her about him, then made his way back to the château, where he finally let loose the anger that had been building inside of him. "YOU'RE A DEAD MAN, CAIN WULFRIC!" he yelled.

In the library, Cain fell off his couch and smacked his head on the table. "Shit!" he yelped as he sprang to his feet seconds before the doors were flung open and a very pissed off Abel stormed in.

A very amused Matthias watched as Abel grabbed his larger cousin by the trench coat lapel and pinned him against the nearest book case. Abel was speaking German, but Matthias had downloaded knowledge of every language he could get his hands on, so he understood.

"If you ever," Abel snarled, the vitriolic sound of the German tongue making it sound even more threatening - not that it needed the help - "try to interfere with my love life again," he slammed Cain against the bookcase for emphasis and proceeded go into long, graphic detail of the torture he would inflict upon the other werewolf, starting with his balls and working his way around from there.

"And if you ever try to hurt her," and he started another list, this one even more graphic than the first and incorporating methods medieval and Asian. He then proceeded to punch Cain hard enough to knock the other wolf out. "And that was for making me change. You know how much it hurts, you bastard," he spat at the unconscious body before stomping off.

Matthias winced.

"Y'think wolfy-boy is pissed?" Red murmured in his ear.

"Just a bit," he replied, not looking at the constantly shell-changing program. He'd never seen anyone get as bored with his shell as quickly as Red did.

Red sighed. "I have never seen them fight like that in the two Cycles I've known 'em."

"Ah, but Cain hadn't done anything that stupid in two Cycles you've known them," came another voice that caused both Matthias and Red to jump.

"Hello, Jacob," Matthias said.

The dark-skinned program nodded to them both. "The Frenchman is not going to like this turn of events."

"No. He isn't."

"Seth's gone down to meet with that human again."

"What are the terms?"

"Same as last time. At least this human is consistent."

"Unlike some humans we know..."

"I resent that!"

"I was referring to D'Artagnan and his gofer Asmodeus."

"Oh."

"Y'know, that brings up an interesting thought: Who's more human, a part-program or Red here?"

"I'm not human."

"But you were."

"Do I bring up your former state of being?"

Jacob shut up.

Funkless: Wait a minute, what spelling mistake? Where? And Heywood is very hard to forget. -shudders- But yes, I am a GAFFer and proud of it.