Title: Choices and Chances

Author: Stormhawk

Rating: PG-13

Updated Disclaimer:

Matrin (yes Matrin, not Martin) = Me

Chapter Word Count: 1612

Summary: whaps Brown with a sthingy looks oops, that's not a summary...ah well

Notes: Nope

Please read and Review.

Limping down the hall, she left a trail of blood. Holding her middle with her broken arm, she used the other to support herself. The door she needed wasn't far, she just hoped she could make it there without passing out. Her code was pretty messed up, she felt nauseous every time a subroutine tried to make contact with another that wasn't in the right place or wasn't there at all.

And the blood loss was no fun either. Her heart already felt sluggish and her vision was beginning to blur.

Opening the door, she found herself in Darth's room. She couldn't see him, but the door to his bathroom was closed so at least he was home. Falling in a heap on the floor, she kicked the door to the hall closed.

"Cray I told you to leave me alone," Darth said as he walked out, pulling a shirt on.

He looked down at Stef, "oh my god, what happened?" he asked as he knelt down and picked her up.

Holding a handful of his shirt, she looked up at him. "Please get me to the Agency."

"Can't you shift? It'll be quicker?"

"I'm digital dog meat, I don't want to break up in transit."

"All right, just hold on."

Quickly, but smoothly, he carried her down to the living room. Laying her on the couch, he picked up the phone and called a cab. "We need to get a car," he said as it connected.

He ordered the cab and then ran back to the couch. "Listen to me Stef, stay awake. Don't you dare go to sleep. Just concentrate."

"I be ok, hurts like shit," she mumbled.

"You are not ok," he said as he put his arm around her and pressed a pillow to her middle to soak up some of the blood. "Who did this to you?"

"Ander-snot, I'm bleeding cause he screwed up my programming. Tried to break me apart."

"The taxi will be here in a minute."

"I love you."

"Don't say that, people always say that just before they die. You can't die, I won't let you die."

She cracked a weak smile, "you're not blinking."

"I don't blink when I'm worried. I might miss something important."

"Like how you forgot to add that one line of programming to your butterfly so it made it made the wings bash its head."

"You shouldn't be talking."

There was the sound of a horn outside. Darth picked up Stef and carried her out the door.

"You just carried me over the threshold," she murmured.

"Kinda, it was the wrong direction."

The driver looked up and then got out so he could unlock the backdoor. "Shouldn't you have called an ambulance?" he asked as Darth walked over to the cab.

"Just drive," Darth ordered as the driver closed the door after him.

"Where?" he asked as he looked into the backseat. He did a double take as he saw Stef. "Don't worry, I know."

"How could you know? Drive!"

"I know what she is and I know where those people belong."

"What are you?"

"He's a exile. Don't worry about me, I like most of you people 'cept Mero."

"Who? What? Huh?"

"Kid, you aren't blinking. I'm Matrin. Exiles are ex-system programs. And Mero is an evil French guy."

"Can you step on it?"

"Just hold on to something," Matrin said as he accelerated. "You people aren't related to this brown-haired chick that had trouble with the rebels last week? Picked her up about a block from your mansion."

"Stevie," Darth said, "yeah, she's one of us."

About five minutes of speed-law-breaking driving later, Matrin stopped outside the Agency with the motor still running. "I am not sticking around."

"Whatever," Darth said as he carried Stef out of the cab and into the building.

Darth slowed himself down the second he walked into the Agency and wiped the worried expression and fear off his face. Calm, dispassionate, ex-rebel. Has to appear carefree. Ex-rebels don't care if agents live or die.

He just kept telling himself that all of this was a bad dream and he was going to wake up and none of it would have happened. Just a bad dream.

The guards got up when they saw that he was carrying one of theirs. "You got a doc or a tech or something?" he asked. "This agent ain't doing too well."

One of the guards spoke into his walkie-talkie and a second later the doctor appeared.

And then Agent Brown appeared as well.

The doctor immediately required a trolley and lifted her onto it. He unbuttoned the front of her suit and started to inspect the damage.

Brown walked over with a snarl on his face and pulled the doctor back from the trolley before he could require any bandages or sedatives or anything of the kind.

"Wait," he ordered. "She may not need it."

"Yes sir," the doctor said without hesitation. With Smith out for the count, Brown was in charge.

"How and why did you bring her here?" Brown asked Darth.

"Uh...she belongs here doesn't she?" Darth said, taking all the care out of his voice. It was vital that he answer the questions correctly, otherwise it could cost both their lives. "And I took a cab. Sorry, I thought I was doing a favor."

"Why would you want to do the Agency any favors?" Brown hissed at him.

"I may still look like a rebel, but I am a collaborator. I'm thankful to be back here so I have to treat you programs with a measure of respect, if only for the sake of my skin."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Darth shrugged casually, "I thought it would earn me brownie points or something, make you realize that I'm not still in league with the rebellion."

"Brown," Stef said in a painful whisper, "I'm close to flatlining, what is the nature of your problem?"

"How did you come to help her?" Brown asked, continuing as if she hadn't spoken.

"I was walking around, and I saw someone falling off a building. I ran over to catch whoever it was and found it was her. That's the truth."

Brown almost smiled, "and what is your personal opinion of this agen...this woman?"

Darth didn't miss a beat, "that's not a woman, that's an agent. Nothing more, nothing less."

"So you have no feelings for this program?"

"Program," Darth said with a grin, "is the keyword here. Program, not person. I couldn't feel any real attachment to a program any more than I could my computer. If you're confused cause it looked like I was carrying her over the threshold or something, it's just the easiest way to carry something human-shaped."

"...so no feelings, just as a human?"

"Is this a new form of interrogation or something?" Darth shook his head, "feelings? Maybe if she was prettier and I was drunk. The next female agent you program, make it something blond and built, this one just looks like another agent."

Brown just stared at him.

"You think maybe I have a relationship with this agent don't you? Something of a physical nature perhaps? If I could express how disgusting that concept is to me, I would. But instead I'll just do this."

Darth walked over to the trolley, he picked up her broken arm and twisted it up around her back, causing her tears of pain, and then he pushed her back down, making her lean on her broken arm and leant on the wound in her middle, making blood seep through even more of her suit. All the time, he just smiled at her pain.

IT'S JUST A BAD DREAM! He had to scream at himself.

Triumphant, he looked up at Brown. "Satisfied? No reasonable human would even cause that much pain to their dog. I could care less if that agent lives or dies, I just don't want to get shot for something I have no involvement in. And as for a physical relationship, aren't you guys built like Barbie dolls or something?"

"Agent Brown," the doctor interrupted, "if you are quite finished with this interrogation of the collaborator, and have any intention of allowing Agent Mimosa to live, I need to treat her now."

Brown shrugged then looked back at Darth, "leave this premises."

Darth turned and walked out of the building without even a look back. A look back wouldn't be a good thing, too dangerous.

He looked around the street, the taxi was gone. He'd have to call another one. He shook his head and walked around the block to look for a phone. The cab was waiting there, the driver looked slightly twitchy, but smiled when he saw Darth.

"You need a ride home or what? Cause this neighborhood is trouble for people like me."

Darth nodded and got into the cab. "Besides," Matrin added, "you didn't pay me for the other fare."

"Sorry," Darth mumbled. "Kind of preoccupied."

"You may want to change your shirt when you get home. You've got agent blood all over you, your high-class neighbors might start thinking you're some kind of crazed murderer."

The programmer smiled humorlessly.

"Well at least you're blinking again," Matrin said, trying to lighten the mood. "You humans bother me when you stop blinking."

Darth shrugged and looked out the window. When they got back to the mansion, he paid for both fares and then up to his room and sat silently, staring at the bloody stain his girlfriend had left on the floor and prayed to whatever divine force that could hear him that she would be all right.