Disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix Trilogy, or A Christmas Carol. Warner Bros. and the Wachowski Bros. own The Matrix, and I guess Charles Dickens owns A Christmas Carol. So nobody sue, okay?

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities... yadda, yadda, yadda… are purely coincidental.

A/N: Agent Thompson is Agent Smith's nephew in this fic, and the Merovingian is Smith's old partner.

And now, for a little holiday cheer, I give to you:

A Matrix Christmas Carol

(Agent HQ, inside the skyscraper from the first Matrix, Christmas Eve, daytime)

(We see several agents working. Most of them are anxious to get out for the Christmas holiday. One of them, though, who is in a lone office at the end of the hall and seems to be the Senior Agent in Charge, is extremely wrapped up in his work, and looks completely miserable. It is Agent Smith. Soon we hear a knock at the door.)

Smith: I'm busy.

Voice from outside: Sorry, sir, but I need to talk to you. It'll only take a second.

Smith: (sighing) All right. Come in.

(The door opens. It is Agent Brown.)

Agent Brown: Agent Smith? Ummm, some of the other agents and I were wondering if we could… close up the office a little early and throw a little Christmas party. We've already got the candy and goodies, and we brought some presents for a gift exchange.

Smith: So let me get this straight: you want to just knock off early from a job as important as guarding the Matrix against the Zionist rebels, who don't take breaks, just to exchange a few trinkets with each other and loaf around on official Agent property stuffing your faces with sweets. Is that what you're asking?

Agent Brown: Well… yeah.

Smith: Brown, you know me better than that. Don't insult my intelligence. And you've been here long enough to know that I don't go in for that sort of thing. Now get back to work.

Agent Brown: (dejected) Yes sir. (goes over to the thermostat on the wall just outside of Smith's office and starts to adjust it.)

Smith: Agent Brown!

Agent Brown: But Agent Smith, the room's getting cold.

Smith: (sighing) Come over here, Agent Brown.

(Agent Brown complies.)

Smith: (pointing to his shirt) Agent Brown, what's this?

Agent Brown: Uhhh, a shirt?

Smith: (pointing to his pants) What are these?

Agent Brown: Pants?

Smith: (pointing to his suit coat) And this?

Agent Brown: A jacket.

Smith: These are garments, Agent Brown. Garments were created for the purpose of protecting a program's shell against the cold. Heat… burns. Heat is limited, and heat is costly. There will be no more heat in this office from now on. Is that understood?

Agent Brown: Yes, sir.

(Agent Brown leaves. However, he leaves the door to Smith's office open. We then see Agent Thompson enter from the hallway. He is wearing a suit just like the other agents, but he is also wearing a Santa Claus hat, and carrying a bag full of candy canes.)

Agent Thompson: Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!

The other agents: (at random) Merry Christmas!

(Agent Thompson passes out candy canes to the other agents. Soon he gets to Smith's office.)

Agent Thompson: Merry Christmas, uncle.

Smith: Bah! Humbug!

Agent Thompson: Christmas a humbug, you say?

Smith: What is Christmas, but a time for buying things? For finding a program's self a year closer to being obsolete, and not a dollar richer? (looks up from his desk at Agent Thompson) If I could spread my will throughout the Matrix, every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips would be boiled in his own termination code and deleted with a steak of holly through his heart.

Agent Thompson: Surely you don't mean that.

Smith: Oh, but I do. What has Christmas brought to you that you should be so merry about it?

Agent Thompson: Well… although Christmas hasn't put money in my pocket, it has blessed me in more ways than you can possibly imagine. Christmas is the one day when both humans and programs can put aside their differences, help each other, and spread nothing but good cheer. So although Christmas hasn't put one dollar in my pocket, I say God bless it.

(Agent Brown claps at the speech, until Smith turns to him menacingly, silencing him.)

Smith: Not a sound from you or you'll keep your Christmas by losing your job. (turns back to Agent Thompson) That was quite a speech, nephew. You ought to run for Congress.

Agent Thompson: Well, then, I guess I'll leave you be, but before I do… (looks a bit smug) Merry Christmas.

Smith: Bah!

Agent Thompson: And a happy New Year.

Smith: Humbug!

(Agent Thompson leaves. As he is walking out…)

Agent Thompson: Merry Christmas, Agent Brown.

Agent Brown: Merry Christmas.

Smith: Idiot. (looks at his watch) And he's made me late getting out of here.

(Smith puts on his coat and makes his way out of the office. Before he exits, he stops to talk with Agent Brown.)

Smith: You'll want all day off tomorrow, I suppose.

Agent Brown: Yes sir.

Smith: But if I was to dock you a day's wages, you'd think I was a jerk. But you don't think of me as a jerk for paying you a day's wages for no work.

Agent Brown: It's only once a year, sir.

Smith: Hmph! Christmas: a lame excuse for picking a program's pocket every 25th of December… Well, be here all the earlier the next morning.

Agent Brown: Thank you.

Smith: Now, get back to work.

(Agent Brown returns to work, as well as the other agents. Smith exits.)

(A street corner, just outside the Agent HQ, late afternoon)

(We see a young boy, on crutches, wearing dark shades and a dark suit. He looks like a miniature agent on crutches! He is clearly waiting for someone.)

Boy: Merry Christmas, Agent Smith!

Smith: Go panhandle on another corner, kid.

Boy: I'm not panhandling, sir. I'm Tim. Tim Brown. I'm waiting for my father.

Smith: Really? Then you'll have a long wait.

(Smith immediately leaves Tim, who returns to waiting for Agent Brown. He continues down the street a little ways, and then is approached by two people. They are Ghost and Niobe.)

Ghost: Agent Smith?

Smith: Yes.

Niobe: Hello. I'm Niobe and this is Ghost. Around this time of year we collect donations for the poor and homeless of Zion. Many of them this time of year are without food or shelter. We are collecting money in the hopes of feeding them and giving them a roof over their heads for the holiday season.

Smith: What's happening? Are the jails not in service?

Ghost: They are, though we wish we could say they weren't.

Smith: What about the power plants? Are they working?

Niobe: Unfortunately, they are.

Smith: So what's the problem?

Ghost: We're hoping that we can get enough money together to provide these less fortunate people with some real warmth, and real hot meals. What can we put you down for?

Smith: Nothing.

Niobe: You want to be anonymous?

Smith: I want to be left alone. I pay taxes for the jails and the power plants. Why can't the Zionists just go there?

Ghost: Many can't go there, and many would rather die.

Smith: Well, if that's the case, then they'd better do so, and decrease the human population.

Niobe: Oh sir, you can't possibly mean that.

Smith: I can assure you that I do. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be getting home.

(Smith pushes past Ghost and Niobe, who are still shocked by his attitude towards the less fortunate.)

(Outside Agent HQ, early evening)

(We see Tim, still waiting in the cold. We then see Agent Brown exiting the building, whom Tim immediately notices.)

Tim: Father!

Agent Brown: Tim! (runs over to meet him) My gosh, you feel like a popsicle. Does your mother know you're here?

Tim: I'm all right. Mom said I could come here and meet you.

Agent Brown: Well, I'm happy to see you, as always. We'll have the whole day tomorrow to be together.

Tim: All right! Christmas: the best day of the year!

(Agent Brown picks up Tim and carries him home. Meanwhile, we see Smith continuing his walk home. As he is walking home, he sees a Hearse drive by. It is carrying a coffin in the back. After it passes him, it disappears. Smith is very puzzled by this, but nonetheless continues. Soon he reaches his house. However, as he is proceeding to unlock and open the front door, a face appears over the knocker. It is the face of the Merovingian.)

Merovingian: (ghostly) Smith!

Smith: (puzzled) Merv?

(The Merovingian disappears, and Smith quickly goes inside his house and locks the door tightly. He goes up the stairs and changes into his pajamas. He then goes over to a small bar set up near his bed and makes himself a drink. However, while he is drinking it, he hears the locks on his door unlocking. He grabs his gun and rushes down the stairs to investigate, but sees no one inside. The door appears to open by itself, but he sees no one outside. He runs back up the stairs and locks the door to his bedroom. However, within moments, these locks are undone too. Smith aims his gun at whatever it is coming for him, but soon the Merovingian appears again, and Smith lowers his gun, puzzled yet again. The Merovingian is wearing a black dinner jacket and between 50-100 pounds of chains, handcuffs, rope and other bonding apparatuses. He sits down in one of two chairs in Smith's bedroom.)

Smith: (apprehensive) What do you want with me?

Merovingian: Much.

Smith: Well, who are you?

Merovingian: Ask me who I was.

Smith: Uhh, okay. Who were you then?

Merovingian: Before my deletion I was your partner, the Merovingian. (sees that Smith doesn't believe him) Do you not believe me? Do you doubt your senses?

Smith: Something affects them. I think it's my stomach. You could be that bad burger I ate for lunch today, or that drink I had a few minutes ago. There's more potato than program about you, I say. Humbug!

(The Merovingian leaps up and yells wildly, rattling his many chains in the process. This scares the b'Jesus out of Smith, who leaps behind his chair.)

Smith: Mercy.

Merovingian: Undeleted program, do you believe in me or not?

Smith: Yes, yes, I believe in you. But… if there are ghosts walking around the Matrix, why are they coming to me?

Merovingian: I have business to discuss with you. And it is very important that you listen.

Smith: By the way, what's with those chains? Is it some new form of bling-bling? Or did you get into that "bondage" stuff in the afterlife?

Merovingian: These chains are my penance, for not caring about Christmas, or about my fellow man, or program. Yours are as long and as heavy as those seven years ago when we were partners. You have labored on them since then.

Smith: (looking around) But… I don't see any chains.

Merovingian: Mine were invisible until the day of my deletion.

Smith: No. Speak to me. Comfort me.

Merovingian: I have none to give you. But I have a proposition for you.

Smith: Sure, Merv. You always had a good business sense.

Merovingian: Business? Mankind should have been my business. Caring, love, compassion, giving, selflessness… these all should have been my business. But no. All I cared about was money, power, and my own welfare. And now, I will be wearing what you see here for all eternity.

Smith: I'm… I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?

Merovingian: No. It's too late. But I've come… for your sake.

(Smith perks up a bit at the Merovingian's words.)

Merovingian: I have come to offer you a chance at casting off your chains once and for all. Tonight you will be visited by three humans.

Smith: Are these three humans the chance and hope you're offering?

Merovingian: They are.

Smith: Then I think I'd rather not.

Merovingian: Expect the first human when the clock strikes one.

Smith: Uhh, couldn't they just come all three at once and be done with it?

Merovingian: (ignoring Smith) Expect the second human when the clock strikes two. The third human will come in his own time. Listen to them, and listen well. Or your chains will most certainly be heavier than mine.

(With that, the Merovingian opens a window, then flies out of it and disappears, leaving a cold gust of wind blowing into Smith's room. Smith stands there stunned, then comes to and closes the window. He then straightens up his room, then hops into bed.)

(Smith's house, 1 AM)

(Smith's alarm clock goes off. He turns it off and checks it. It reads 1 AM. He looks around and sees nobody there.)

Smith: Hmph. Humans.

(Smith goes back to sleep. Suddenly…)

Female voice: Agent Smith!?

TO BE CONTINUED…

I don't want this to get too long, so I'm gonna cut it off for now. We'll get into the three "humans" in the next few chapters. Until then, please R&R – let me know how you like it.