I Will Find You
Disclaimer: I don't the Matrix. I also don't own the movie that Bronwyn and Jones see together—you get a cookie if you can guess what it is.
Summary: It's been 3 weeks since Jones agreed to look after Bronwyn and neither is finding their close contact easy to bear. (I know, I know, I can't write decent summaries—but with over 41 reviews for this story, I must be doing something right!)
Bronwyn threw the TV guide on the floor in irritation. It was that time of year again and there was not a damn thing on tonight except early Thanksgiving and Christmas specials. She looked over to the table and noticed the newspaper that had arrived earlier in the day.
So what if what's on TV sucks, she thought. There's always a movie. There's got to be something playing somewhere that I want to see. Opening the paper to the "Entertainment" section, she perused the movie listings. She read with interest the fact that the local art house downtown was showing a movie from a few years back. Even thought she owned a DVD copy of it, she wanted to see it again on the big screen. The start time was in forty-five minutes but she knew if she hurried, she knew she could make the early showing. And maybe this time I can lose that shadow who insists on following me everywhere.
She left her apartment and was almost out of her building when she heard the familiar sound of those leather shoes as its owner strode purposefully after her.
It had been Mickey's idea that Jones should take an apartment in Bronwyn's building so that he could always be close to her should the need arise. It had been taxing on both of them for different reasons. To Bronwyn, she didn't like the idea of being followed all the time, but she understood the reason for it. For Jones, being constantly close to and watching over a woman was a new, if frustrating, learning experience to say the least.
It took time and patience on both their parts, but after nearly three weeks of this arrangement, they were getting used to being in each other's company.
She whirled around and clicked her tongue chidingly. "You're slipping, Jones. I almost made it out the door this time."
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To the movies. You want to come too? Fine." she said, knowing he was going to follow her anyway.
"You might not like it, though. There's no car chases, explosions, space battles with ray guns or gunfights at the OK Corral in it. There is one naked woman in the movie, but she's having a portrait done of herself, that will have to be your fill of T&A." Besides, she thought, if I am really lucky, he might even change his mind about following me to the movies again, once he realizes this is a love story, not an action film.
He sat beside her as he always did when they went to the movies. Looking around, he noticed he was not the only man who was here at this movie sitting beside a woman, but he was the only one whose arm was either not around the shoulders of his companion or resting on the back of her seat.
Am I expected to do that as well, he thought. And what would she do if I did? He puzzled over the matter until the lights dimmed and grainy sepia-tinted images of a departing ocean liner followed by the rolling waves of a moonlit ocean accompanied by a plaintive and haunting melody interrupted his thoughts.
"What's wrong?" Jones asked, as he and Bronwyn left the theatre over three hours later.
She sniffled. "I'm crying because the movie was sad, that's why."
"But you've seen this movie before. And it is a historical fact that the ship sank after striking that iceberg. After sustaining that much structural damage, it was impossible for the ship to remain afloat for any amount of time. So why were you crying?"
"Jesus, Jones, didn't you hear all those other people weeping in the theatre? We were crying because so many people had to die, needlessly. Don't you have a heart? Of course not," she snapped, "what could I have possibly been thinking? You worked for Smith, after all. He probably taught you everything he knew about how to be a cold, emotionless bastard. I'm sure he'd be proud of you now." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. She turned on her heel and quickened her step.
Unfortunately, for a petite and very pregnant woman, getting away from a man, any man, (not to mention one as large and as fast as Jones was), was far easier said than done. She found to her annoyance that he caught up with her all too quickly.
"Get away from me!" she hissed at him.
"No." he said, walking beside her.
"Leave me alone."
"No."
"Why won't you leave me alone and just go away? I didn't ask you to come along with me tonight and I'm sure you really did not want to see that movie. Wouldn't you rather have stayed home and cleaned your gun instead?" Bronwyn said, sarcastically.
"My gun didn't need cleaning."
"Reloading it then."
"It didn't need reloading."
"I don't know what you like to do for fun—watch professional wrestling? Download porn from the Internet? How the hell should I know?"
"I don't watch television and I haven't downloaded anything from the Internet, porn or otherwise."
She threw up her hands in exasperation. "I give up. Trying to have an argument with you is like trying to have an argument with Mr. Spock, for Christ's sake."
"You're wrong, Miss. Delaney."
"About what?" Bronwyn demanded, turning to look at him.
"I never worked for Smith, I only worked with him."
What a completely infuriating man, she thought angrily. "I don't care! Jones, why don't you just go fu—"
Bronwyn had been about to tell him to perform a sexual act on himself when she felt the baby inside her move for the first time. She gasped in shock before she doubled over and grabbed at Jones' sleeve to keep herself from falling. Without a word, he picked her up in his arms and carried her the remaining distance to her apartment. He carried her to her bedroom where he laid her slowly and cautiously on the bed.
He had never had an occasion or a reason to treat a woman with tenderness before in the past; Jones was unsure how to be gentle—he simply didn't know how. But he knew he had to learn, and quickly, because it was in his best interest to do so; his existence depended on it, for there was no doubt in his mind that her friend Mickey would not hesitate to act on his threat if any harm came to Bronwyn while she was in his care.
For the first time, he, Jones, an agent, was the guardian and protector of a woman, a human. Not only that, she was carrying the child of the most dangerous agent the Matrix had ever produced as well. Jones knew that Bronwyn would need all the safety and security he could give her. And what would Smith do to her once he found her was not pleasant to think about.
"What happened? Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Jones asked awkwardly, uncomfortably shifting his weight from one foot to another. Bronwyn shifted her position in bed a little and indicated that he should sit down beside her. Jones paused uncertainly for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I'm fine. The baby moved for the first time and it just took me by surprise, that's all. And no, you didn't hurt me. You were very gentle, as a matter of fact. Thanks for asking, though," she replied. "Do you mind?" she asked, indicating that she wanted to remove his sunglasses. He nodded uncertainly, knowing that he couldn't refuse her request, and he remained completely motionless while Bronwyn removed them.
"You have nicer eyes than Smith does," Bronwyn stated critically, tilting her head to one side and looking closely at his face.
He looked at her in surprise. "Our eyes are the same shade of blue."
She shook her head decisively. "Smith's eyes are cold, like they were chipped from ice or steel, but yours are warm. I like them."
"Thank you, Miss. Delaney," Jones said. He had never received a compliment before and simply didn't know what else to say.
"Stop calling me that," she said.
"What?"
"Please, just call me Bronwyn. And what should I call you? Mr. Jones?" she asked, trying not to smile.
"Jones. Just Jones. Like the way you've been doing."
"All right, Jones. You can leave now, only please turn out the light before you go; I want to go to bed. I'll scream if I want anything."
He nodded and left, turning out the light.
He is so straight-laced and formal, Bronwyn thought, as she changed her clothes for bed. That is such an unexpected quality in a man like this, even if he is insufferable and has absolutely no sense of humor. I wonder if his face would crack if he ever smiled. She laughed to herself at the thought and pressed her hand hard against her belly as she felt sudden movement again inside her. This time, it was much sharper, stronger and more intense than the first. Yes, I know you're in there little one, you don't have to jump around like that, she mentally chided the life within her, gently poking her abdomen playfully, before falling asleep.
Three hundred miles away, Smith slammed on the brakes of his car when the unexpected and unfamiliar feeling hit him. He had never felt anything like it, and he couldn't say how, but he knew exactly what it was. It was an emotional, neural impulse from his child as it moved inside Bronwyn for the first time.
She didn't get rid of it after all, he thought exultantly. The Merovingian's whore of a wife lied to me. My child is still alive.
When the child moved again, Smith felt that the sensation was a little stronger this time, but not by much. The fetus is yet too small and too weak to communicate anything to me other than it is able to move now. However, I know that the feelings and signals it sends to me will only get stronger in time. It wants me, it needs me and I will find you. And when I do, I'll make it's mother pay for the hell she's put me through.
Perhaps after all this time, she might even begin to feel that she is safe from me; that she actually succeeded in running to a place where I couldn't find her. But little does she know that our child will tell me exactly where she is and what she is doing. Or with whom, for that matter. For although Smith could not be absolutely certain, he had the feeling that Bronwyn was not alone.
It wasn't really all that important, he argued. After all, whoever he was, he was mortal and could die.