Cat leaned back in her rented chair, sipping her Diet Coke with satisfaction. She was uniquely positioned to enjoy the luxuries of this place. After all, Resistants hardly had time to stop for french-fries when they were in the Matrix.
Still, it really wasn't safe to hack the Matrix for prolonged periods of time. Few, if any, unplugged humans had spent the night there. If they had, they certainly hadn't slept. Maybe she'd speak to Smith about that.
She swallowed; it was lucky that nothing had happened yet. She was still slow to remember the dangers of the digital world, although Trinity'd insisted Cat's plugs be put to good use. She'd been into the Matrix more times in her few short months with Neo than in five years under Binary. Cat snorted. No wonder she'd been off her game. Put Neo in the Operator's chair and just see how smoothly things went.
Trinity, Cat supposed, never did quite come to terms with her status as an operator. Nearly everyone with a set of plugs who joined a ship crew worked within the Matrix in some capacity or other. Cat had caused more than bit of grumbling when she took an operator's position; there were only so many, and it was tough for Zion-born fighters to join the effort in any other way. Still, she was more than a little resentful that her offer to operate had been dismissed out of hand, although she supposed Trinity had a point. Link could fill in at her old chair, but he couldn't operate within the digital world.
It had been hard to regain even the shaky skills she'd been taught five years before. Binary had arranged some jaunts into the Matrix so that Cat could form a realistic idea of her crewmates' capabilities, but hadn't given her much training on the mechanics of manipulation. There would have been no point, after all. Trinity had thrown her in over her head. The One attracted Agents like flies, and Cat couldn't cope with the difficult missions while learning Matrix skills. Secretly, Cat doubted that she'd ever be any good within the digital construct, no matter how much she practiced. She just wasn't a physical person.
It didn't help that her new crewmates were two of the most gifted manipulators the Matrix had ever seen, beautiful and famous people who everyone wanted a glimpse of. Still, they drew too much danger for most of the ship captains and so they were stuck with the crewless Sekh, and stuck with Cat.
She sighed. It hurt to see them, looking drawn and serious as they paced the deck Binary had floated over. Trinity and Neo seemed to have been born without a sense of humor. Nothing could be farther from Binary's affectionate nicknames and practical jokes. Cat thought of her as more a sister than a captain, and the chilly relations with Trinity and Neo only made Cat ache more for her missing friends.
A rap at the door startled Cat out of her introspection. She welcomed the interruption; she'd been verging on a familiar melancholy. Smith was difficult, but the effort required to keep up her dangerous game dragged her out of the grieving she'd been trapped in for months.
Her jaw dropped as she opened the door. Smith was smiling. Not grimacing, not sneering. Smiling. "Hello," he said.
The greeting sounded awkward; Cat was almost relieved that his voice was the same. "Friendly Smith" was flatly unnatural.
"I knew you'd be a quick study," she said, covering her shock and motioning Smith to sit. "I take it this afternoon has done you some good."
His face slid back into its neutral set. "I observed and recorded several hundred interactions."
"It seems that you can imitate them, too. Why don't we put that to the test?"
Smith sat silently as she sipped the last of her Coke. "All right," she said. "Where do you want to go?"
The Agent shrugged. Cat repressed the urge to gape again; the motion had been only a little stiff, but it still seemed very out of place. It wouldn't look that way to others, she supposed, but it was odd to see human mannerisms on Smith. After all, he'd started this whole process to purge himself of the "taint" of her species.
She shook her head. "Well, first things first. I have a couple of things that don't bear public discussion. Like, is there some way I can contact you if I need you?"
Smith didn't say anything.
Great, Cat thought. No amount of study can make the man easy to deal with. She sighed. "It's not customary for the unplugged to stay in the Matrix as long as I'm going to. I just worried that somebody I can't deal with will come along, and that will be the end of this little partnership." She was deliberately oblique. Smith had clamed up after she'd mentioned his former colleagues yesterday; maybe, she fancied, he missed his days as an enforcer for the system.
Smith's forehead creased. Well, it had been silly to try to spare his feelings, anyway, Cat thought. It wasn't like he actually had them. "What I mean, Smith, is that I'm afraid I'll meet an Agent."
The blankness was back. "They will be unable to find you."
Cat stared. "Are you shielding me somehow?"
"No."
It was her turn to frown. "Well, what will keep them off me, then?"
"You are not in contact with the others on your ship. There are no illicit signals available for trace."
Cat sighed. "I hate to trust to that. Won't they be able to tell that someone hacked the Matrix yesterday?"
Smith was still blank. "They will have traced that disturbance, but will have detected no further suspicious activity. They will not be able to pinpoint you without further incidents."
Cat thought that it was very positive that Smith was talking about something that could be construed as Agency secrets. He wasn't telling her anything the Resistance didn't know, but the fact that he would talk about it at all...
He WAS right, she supposed. Still, there was no harm in taking extra precautions. "Well, that's great to hear. I guess it just makes me a little nervous, though. Tell you what. Let's get cell phones on our little jaunt this afternoon. I won't use it unless I need you to keep me from getting killed."
Smith sneered, no doubt amused by her weakness and worry, but didn't object.
"Also..." She eyed Smith's business suit. "Can you change your clothing somehow, or do you need to shop for something to wear in the club?"
"I will procure something suitable."
Cat shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Your idea of suitable and mine are not likely to match up, at least not yet. Tell you what. If you seem to do OK with some low-key stuff today, tomorrow we'll sneak you in to a club. We can pretend that we work at the same office and I dragged you out for the night. If you lose the jacket and tie, that might work. It'll be a Tuesday, so it'll cause less of a stir. Still, we'd better go to a different club, you know, not the one we're going to set the trap in."
Smith was silent. Cat took that for agreement. "Ok. That's enough practicality for the day. Sure you're going to leave this up to me?"
Cat grinned. "Well, let this be on your head, then." If Smith wouldn't pick, she'd take him where she wanted to go. McDonald's had been calling her name for quite some time, and I she remembered her map correctly, the route to the nearest one would take them through the downtown business district. There'd be plenty of opportunities for Smith to show off his new skill.
He smiled again as they left the hotel. Cat wondered if she'd always find it disconcerting.
Smith must have seen her flinch; his forehead settled into its familiar crease. "Is this incorrect?"
Cat shook her head. "I'm just not quite used to an expressive Smith."
He didn't reply. Cat snorted. So much for expressive.
They walked along in silence for a while. Smith, Cat noted, still matched her pace, and his face now registered several generic-looking expressions. He no longer shoved oncoming pedestrians out of the way, and even went so far as to apologize to a middle-aged woman who ran into him. It humanized him more than she would have expected.
She was almost sorry to reach the retail district. She squashed the temptation to haul him into a store; his still-dour attitude would be perfect, the stereotypical reaction of a man dragged out on a shopping trip. That might very well be too much too soon, though. It was difficult to read Smith when he blanked out, but she'd bet anything that he wasn't pleased by her suggestion that he shed his tie. How she ever expected to talk him into club clothes...
It was just as well that the golden arches broke that particular thought pattern. "You may know the right restaurants to woo your average traitor, but I still say you can't beat the cuisine of the common man. Come on."
Cat grinned at Smith's rather forced-looking smile as she held the door open for him. She'd always loved this place. Of course, she'd been yanked from the Matrix when she was eleven and quite small enough to access the ball pit. "I'd like a chicken McNugetts Happy Meal, please." She grinned at the kid taking orders. "Old times' sake and all that. Come on, Smith, what'll ya have?"
"I am not hungry. Thank you."
Cat wrinkled her nose; his "pleasant tone" left more than a little to be desired. "Oh, come on. What's the use of slumming it if you don't eat anything? Tell you what; it's my treat." Smith remained silent. "Hmm. A number two, supersized, with a Diet Coke, please," Cat said, grinning. Turnabout was fair play, after all, and Smith had a preemption to pay for.
She sent him, tray in hand, to find a table as she procured the ketchup. She was still grinning like an idiot; the place put her in a whimsical mood. The stress that had nearly pushed her over the edge last night vanished in the face of her own turf and a little sunlight. It didn't hurt that the life-or-death element of her first encounter with Smith was absent. It even seemed safe to bait him a little.
"At least try a french-fry," Cat wheedled, sitting across from the glowering Agent. "You might just like them, whether they bleed or not."
Smith reached forward, glaring at the fry he'd grasped. Cat laughed. "It's not going to bite you," she giggled. Smith didn't look so sure.
You could practically see the gears whirring as he chewed, Cat thought. "Well?" she asked expectantly.
"They are... acceptable," Smith said, dry cadence belying his bland half-smile.
"Try them with ketchup," Cat recommended, turning her attention to her own meal. The McNuggetts were pure bliss after years of gloppy single cell. Even her present company seemed to enjoy them. Well, maybe not enjoy, per se, but for a woman who had named her keyboard and cell phone, Smith was anthropomorphism waiting to happen.
Sometimes he seemed so very human. The hatred for Neo was exactly that, a strong emotion in something that shouldn't have any. The sneering humor he'd evinced seemed more likely to be emotive than programmed; it had no obvious usefulness, making it an unlikely design element.
Cat started; Smith's stare was almost tangible. He'd eaten the whole carton of fries, she thought with some satisfaction. "See? I told you so."
"The food was enjoyable."
She smiled at him. "I used to eat here when I was a kid. Geez it's been what, 12 years almost, and everything still tastes just the same."
Smith didn't reply directly. "There is an insufficient number of tables."
Cat grinned and cleared the trays. "I can take a hint when I hear one. The cell phones, then, and perhaps a walk in the park?"
She sighed. "You could answer my questions occasionally, you know."
Smith raised an eyebrow at her. That, at least, looked like it belonged on him, Cat thought. "You would not adjust your actions in reference to my response," Smith drawled.
Cat cocked her head at him. "If you'd rather not go for a walk, that's fine."
"I did not say that."
"You implied it."
The Agent sneered. "I implied doubt that you require my input before taking action."
Cat snorted. "If you'd ever offer any, you'd find out, wouldn't you?" She grinned. "I think you like the mystery."
Smith's eyebrow moved even further up as he slowed to a stop. "If you still insist on communication devices, this shop will provide them."
"I do," Cat said, brushing past Smith to peruse the models in the glass counter. She touched Smith's arm to get his attention. "I forgot... We'll need a credit card to get service. These places don't take cash."
Smith wordlessly produced a card. Cat glanced at it, hoping for a first name, but it was stamped "National Security Agency." She snorted. It figures.
"Why don't you take care of this? It'll be good practice."
Smith walked to the counter. The clerk, a portly man with a car salesman smile, perked up. "What can I do for ya?"
Smith smiled. "My colleague and are in need of cellular phones."
"We've got 'em," the clerk declared, gesturing at the case. "What are you looking to use them for?"
"We will need them for very small amounts of time when away from the office."
"Well, we've got a pay-per-minute plan that should work for that. A flat fee of five dollars a month, and a sliding schedule for minute costs after that." The man shoved a brochure across the counter.
Smith glanced at it. "That will be acceptable."
"All right," said the clerk. "How about phones, then? The stripped-down ones should work if you don't plan on usin' 'em much." He pointed to a rather blocky, bulky black phone. "Cheap and adequate. Unless the lady would like something with a little more style?"
Cat smiled. "That one will be fine, sir."
"Oh, don't sir me," the man gushed. "Makes me feel old." He glanced at Smith, who was standing stiffly in front of the counter, frowning at the display. "What's a nice girl like you doing with a stiff like that?"
"Oh, we're partners," Cat said airily. "I guess it's a good-cop, bad-cop thing."
"Ooooh, government types. I'd better watch what I say," the man joked.
Smith frowned at Cat, then turned on the salesman. "That is all we require."
The clerk rolled his eyes at Cat, who threw him a conspiratorial smile. "The total comes to $149.75, with activation fees and all."
Smith swiped his card without comment as the clerk busied himself with the phones. "Could you program the other's number into them?" Cat asked.
"Sure thing." The clerk looked at her speculatively. "You don't look like cops. Who are you with?"
Cat's eyes darted to Smith. "He's mad at me for blowing our cover," she muttered. "I'm not much with this detective-in-disguise thing yet."
Smith held out his hand for the phones. "Thank you," he said flatly.
"Hit one, then star, and it'll dial the other," the clerk said a bit sulkily. He gave Cat a sympathetic look as Smith steered her out the door. At least he isn't dragging me this time, she thought.
"Well, friendly you're not but at least you're passable now. All we need is to get you inside, anyway, and you won't have to talk to anybody but me if we work it right." Smith remained silent. "That only works if you actually talk to me, you know."
"This conversation has long since ceased to be productive."
"Ouch! Well, then, color me bored with your company, too." Smith , predictably enough, didn't respond. Cat sighed. "Look at this as your chance to profile a Resistant. I was a reasonably typical one before Neo came along and screwed with my ship."
"I am no longer concerned with the Resistance."
Cat searched his eyes, finding the same careful neutrality they usually held. "Well, what do you do with all of your time these days? I mean, Neo isn't in the Matrix all the time."
Was she imagining it, or did Smith's posture stiffen? "I do not spend all of my time in pursuit of Mr. Anderson."
"I'm glad to hear that. He's hardly worth the trouble." Her tone held real malice. If Trinity underestimated her, Neo was worse. He seemed oblivious to Cat's existence, passably polite if she came to his attention. He certainly didn't trouble himself on her account, mumbling vagaries if Cat ever inquired after the nature of a mission. She resented that more than anything else; it only confirmed her status as an outsider that he'd clearly rather be rid of.
"Do you like ice cream?" Cat queried, spying a vendor on the outskirts of the park. "Never mind. I'm sure you'll like it if you give it a try."
She purchased two pops shaped like Snoopy and handed one to Smith. She felt a little guilty as she picked a path at random. There was no real reason for this jaunt. Smith was already passable as a human being, and one trip to a nightclub ought to give him enough input to act at that as well. Smith was certain to realize that soon, and she'd be unable to find the information she'd been sent to collect.
"I was able to identify patterns in your organization's choice of targets." Smith's voice startled Cat out of her own thoughts. "I was not, however, able to determine why those particular characteristics were chosen."
Cat grinned. Smith was not so indifferent to the Resistance as he pretended. Maybe old habits die hard. "I'm surprised you didn't figure that out. All of the things we look for - the searches, the time spent on the computer - denote someone who has already begun to suspect that something's not quite right with the world."
Smith frowned. "That is necessary?"
Maybe it wasn't so wise to tell him all this... Still, Smith was technically associated with the Mainframe anymore, and even if he somehow managed to pass the information along they already knew the what. What harm could be done if they had the why as well?
"Well, imagine the nasty shock that comes with waking up in a big pink pod, then being told you'd hallucinated everything you ever knew. It's not easy to accept. For most people, it's flat-out impossible. If you thought there was something off anyway, it's easier to accept the explanation."
Smith frowned. "What prompts this conviction that the world is 'off,' as you say?"
Cat shrugged. "It's different for most of us. Sometimes, a particularly clever hacker starts noticing cracks in the system that can't be explained very well. Sometimes, little glitches in the Matrix tip somebody off. And sometimes, it's you guys," said Cat. "That's how it happened to me. I got curious when one of the neighbors disappeared. I always played with her kid sister, until one night there was a shootout on our street and she was gone without a trace. They told us it was terrorists, and her sister was frantic enough that I went hunting on my own. The more I found, the less seemed to add up. It didn't take long for the 'terrorists' to come for me after that. I gave them quite an earful. I probably wouldn't have gone if the neighbor kid hadn't been with them."
Smith frowned at a couple holding hands on a park bench. "Imperfections in the Matrix prompt some humans to resist the program."
"That's quite correct. I'm still amazed that you didn't notice that when concocting your patterns."
"There was no need for such analysis. The signifiers could be pinpointed and potential targets identified. It was not necessary to determine why particular targets were chosen."
Cat grinned at him. "You lot obviously didn't watch enough tv. Every police detective on the silver screen catches the killer by getting inside his head."
"There are few places I would be more anxious to avoid."
Cat snorted and kicked rock in front of her. "I guarantee we have more fun." She preferred to think that Smith's silence meant that he had no comeback for that one.
She squinted at the sky. "It'll be getting dark soon, so we'd better head back. There's no sense chancing the city in at night."
Cat chose the path they'd come down. She frowned. Something just didn't add up. "If you knew exactly what we were looking for, how did we ever free any minds at all? What stopped you from stopping us?"
Smith didn't answer. Cat heaved a sigh. It figured that nothing about this would be so easy. If he wouldn't even discuss secrets that he no longer had a reason to keep, how could she ever pry the very personal information Neo sought from him?
Smith frowned as they again passed the couple on the park bench. "What does that gesture signify?" he asked, pointing.
The man on the bench looked at Smith oddly. Without thinking about it, Cat smacked his hand. "You're drawing..."
Smith whirled, looked at her flush on. Cat had always thought that "chilling the blood" was a cliche. Not so. Her muscles locked as the cold rush crept through her.
It was difficult to work her mouth. "I'm s-sorry. I didn't think," she choked.
"That much is obvious." Cat heard her heart thundering as Smith glared at her. The relief when he turned his gaze away was physical.
"I noticed it in several pairs of humans today, most commonly a combination of male and female. It occurred in a small but statistically significant number of groups," Smith continued, as though nothing had happened.
Cat took a deep breath. It was too easy to forget who - no, what - she was dealing with. She'd allowed herself to be lulled by their relatively comfortable conversation. It wouldn't happen again.
Her legs felt steady again; she started forward, looking straight ahead as she spoke. She couldn't quite face him yet - not after that look. Those eyes had been dispassionate death. "It signifies romantic involvement." Cat was relieved to hear a steady voice. "When people are in love and want to declare it publicly, they hold hands so that everyone can see that they're attached."
Smith frowned. "The gesture was not restricted to male-female pairings."
"Neither are romantic relationships." She bit words off, not yet comfortable with conversing.
Thankfully, Smith seemed to be out of questions for the time being. The walk back to the hotel was a prolonged nervous silence as Cat tried to avoid the realization of just what she'd gotten herself into. He could have killed her right then without any trouble. Lord knows she wouldn't be able to fight him off. It was sheer luck that her unconscious misstep hadn't betrayed anything important. One little slip like that regarding her real purpose here, and she'd be dead before she could blink.
The stiff silence continued as Smith again followed Cat into the elevator. She gathered her nerves, forcing the knot in the pit of her stomach to untangle. "There's no sense meeting until late tomorrow. Say seven?"
If Smith replied, it was lost in her rush to exit the elevator. The phone in her pocket as she fumbled for the room key reminded her that there were things here she feared more than Smith. "Let me test this real quick," she muttered, hitting the keys the salesman had described. A jarring rendition of Fur Elise emanated from Smith's pocket.
"All right," she murmured, still avoiding his face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." She was in her room well before Smith disappeared into the elevator.
~~~~~~~
A/N: Smithfan: You made my whole day. :D I promise that the next chapter will be a bit more eventful. It should come along very soon. (Maybe even tomorrow!)
Still, it really wasn't safe to hack the Matrix for prolonged periods of time. Few, if any, unplugged humans had spent the night there. If they had, they certainly hadn't slept. Maybe she'd speak to Smith about that.
She swallowed; it was lucky that nothing had happened yet. She was still slow to remember the dangers of the digital world, although Trinity'd insisted Cat's plugs be put to good use. She'd been into the Matrix more times in her few short months with Neo than in five years under Binary. Cat snorted. No wonder she'd been off her game. Put Neo in the Operator's chair and just see how smoothly things went.
Trinity, Cat supposed, never did quite come to terms with her status as an operator. Nearly everyone with a set of plugs who joined a ship crew worked within the Matrix in some capacity or other. Cat had caused more than bit of grumbling when she took an operator's position; there were only so many, and it was tough for Zion-born fighters to join the effort in any other way. Still, she was more than a little resentful that her offer to operate had been dismissed out of hand, although she supposed Trinity had a point. Link could fill in at her old chair, but he couldn't operate within the digital world.
It had been hard to regain even the shaky skills she'd been taught five years before. Binary had arranged some jaunts into the Matrix so that Cat could form a realistic idea of her crewmates' capabilities, but hadn't given her much training on the mechanics of manipulation. There would have been no point, after all. Trinity had thrown her in over her head. The One attracted Agents like flies, and Cat couldn't cope with the difficult missions while learning Matrix skills. Secretly, Cat doubted that she'd ever be any good within the digital construct, no matter how much she practiced. She just wasn't a physical person.
It didn't help that her new crewmates were two of the most gifted manipulators the Matrix had ever seen, beautiful and famous people who everyone wanted a glimpse of. Still, they drew too much danger for most of the ship captains and so they were stuck with the crewless Sekh, and stuck with Cat.
She sighed. It hurt to see them, looking drawn and serious as they paced the deck Binary had floated over. Trinity and Neo seemed to have been born without a sense of humor. Nothing could be farther from Binary's affectionate nicknames and practical jokes. Cat thought of her as more a sister than a captain, and the chilly relations with Trinity and Neo only made Cat ache more for her missing friends.
A rap at the door startled Cat out of her introspection. She welcomed the interruption; she'd been verging on a familiar melancholy. Smith was difficult, but the effort required to keep up her dangerous game dragged her out of the grieving she'd been trapped in for months.
Her jaw dropped as she opened the door. Smith was smiling. Not grimacing, not sneering. Smiling. "Hello," he said.
The greeting sounded awkward; Cat was almost relieved that his voice was the same. "Friendly Smith" was flatly unnatural.
"I knew you'd be a quick study," she said, covering her shock and motioning Smith to sit. "I take it this afternoon has done you some good."
His face slid back into its neutral set. "I observed and recorded several hundred interactions."
"It seems that you can imitate them, too. Why don't we put that to the test?"
Smith sat silently as she sipped the last of her Coke. "All right," she said. "Where do you want to go?"
The Agent shrugged. Cat repressed the urge to gape again; the motion had been only a little stiff, but it still seemed very out of place. It wouldn't look that way to others, she supposed, but it was odd to see human mannerisms on Smith. After all, he'd started this whole process to purge himself of the "taint" of her species.
She shook her head. "Well, first things first. I have a couple of things that don't bear public discussion. Like, is there some way I can contact you if I need you?"
Smith didn't say anything.
Great, Cat thought. No amount of study can make the man easy to deal with. She sighed. "It's not customary for the unplugged to stay in the Matrix as long as I'm going to. I just worried that somebody I can't deal with will come along, and that will be the end of this little partnership." She was deliberately oblique. Smith had clamed up after she'd mentioned his former colleagues yesterday; maybe, she fancied, he missed his days as an enforcer for the system.
Smith's forehead creased. Well, it had been silly to try to spare his feelings, anyway, Cat thought. It wasn't like he actually had them. "What I mean, Smith, is that I'm afraid I'll meet an Agent."
The blankness was back. "They will be unable to find you."
Cat stared. "Are you shielding me somehow?"
"No."
It was her turn to frown. "Well, what will keep them off me, then?"
"You are not in contact with the others on your ship. There are no illicit signals available for trace."
Cat sighed. "I hate to trust to that. Won't they be able to tell that someone hacked the Matrix yesterday?"
Smith was still blank. "They will have traced that disturbance, but will have detected no further suspicious activity. They will not be able to pinpoint you without further incidents."
Cat thought that it was very positive that Smith was talking about something that could be construed as Agency secrets. He wasn't telling her anything the Resistance didn't know, but the fact that he would talk about it at all...
He WAS right, she supposed. Still, there was no harm in taking extra precautions. "Well, that's great to hear. I guess it just makes me a little nervous, though. Tell you what. Let's get cell phones on our little jaunt this afternoon. I won't use it unless I need you to keep me from getting killed."
Smith sneered, no doubt amused by her weakness and worry, but didn't object.
"Also..." She eyed Smith's business suit. "Can you change your clothing somehow, or do you need to shop for something to wear in the club?"
"I will procure something suitable."
Cat shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Your idea of suitable and mine are not likely to match up, at least not yet. Tell you what. If you seem to do OK with some low-key stuff today, tomorrow we'll sneak you in to a club. We can pretend that we work at the same office and I dragged you out for the night. If you lose the jacket and tie, that might work. It'll be a Tuesday, so it'll cause less of a stir. Still, we'd better go to a different club, you know, not the one we're going to set the trap in."
Smith was silent. Cat took that for agreement. "Ok. That's enough practicality for the day. Sure you're going to leave this up to me?"
Cat grinned. "Well, let this be on your head, then." If Smith wouldn't pick, she'd take him where she wanted to go. McDonald's had been calling her name for quite some time, and I she remembered her map correctly, the route to the nearest one would take them through the downtown business district. There'd be plenty of opportunities for Smith to show off his new skill.
He smiled again as they left the hotel. Cat wondered if she'd always find it disconcerting.
Smith must have seen her flinch; his forehead settled into its familiar crease. "Is this incorrect?"
Cat shook her head. "I'm just not quite used to an expressive Smith."
He didn't reply. Cat snorted. So much for expressive.
They walked along in silence for a while. Smith, Cat noted, still matched her pace, and his face now registered several generic-looking expressions. He no longer shoved oncoming pedestrians out of the way, and even went so far as to apologize to a middle-aged woman who ran into him. It humanized him more than she would have expected.
She was almost sorry to reach the retail district. She squashed the temptation to haul him into a store; his still-dour attitude would be perfect, the stereotypical reaction of a man dragged out on a shopping trip. That might very well be too much too soon, though. It was difficult to read Smith when he blanked out, but she'd bet anything that he wasn't pleased by her suggestion that he shed his tie. How she ever expected to talk him into club clothes...
It was just as well that the golden arches broke that particular thought pattern. "You may know the right restaurants to woo your average traitor, but I still say you can't beat the cuisine of the common man. Come on."
Cat grinned at Smith's rather forced-looking smile as she held the door open for him. She'd always loved this place. Of course, she'd been yanked from the Matrix when she was eleven and quite small enough to access the ball pit. "I'd like a chicken McNugetts Happy Meal, please." She grinned at the kid taking orders. "Old times' sake and all that. Come on, Smith, what'll ya have?"
"I am not hungry. Thank you."
Cat wrinkled her nose; his "pleasant tone" left more than a little to be desired. "Oh, come on. What's the use of slumming it if you don't eat anything? Tell you what; it's my treat." Smith remained silent. "Hmm. A number two, supersized, with a Diet Coke, please," Cat said, grinning. Turnabout was fair play, after all, and Smith had a preemption to pay for.
She sent him, tray in hand, to find a table as she procured the ketchup. She was still grinning like an idiot; the place put her in a whimsical mood. The stress that had nearly pushed her over the edge last night vanished in the face of her own turf and a little sunlight. It didn't hurt that the life-or-death element of her first encounter with Smith was absent. It even seemed safe to bait him a little.
"At least try a french-fry," Cat wheedled, sitting across from the glowering Agent. "You might just like them, whether they bleed or not."
Smith reached forward, glaring at the fry he'd grasped. Cat laughed. "It's not going to bite you," she giggled. Smith didn't look so sure.
You could practically see the gears whirring as he chewed, Cat thought. "Well?" she asked expectantly.
"They are... acceptable," Smith said, dry cadence belying his bland half-smile.
"Try them with ketchup," Cat recommended, turning her attention to her own meal. The McNuggetts were pure bliss after years of gloppy single cell. Even her present company seemed to enjoy them. Well, maybe not enjoy, per se, but for a woman who had named her keyboard and cell phone, Smith was anthropomorphism waiting to happen.
Sometimes he seemed so very human. The hatred for Neo was exactly that, a strong emotion in something that shouldn't have any. The sneering humor he'd evinced seemed more likely to be emotive than programmed; it had no obvious usefulness, making it an unlikely design element.
Cat started; Smith's stare was almost tangible. He'd eaten the whole carton of fries, she thought with some satisfaction. "See? I told you so."
"The food was enjoyable."
She smiled at him. "I used to eat here when I was a kid. Geez it's been what, 12 years almost, and everything still tastes just the same."
Smith didn't reply directly. "There is an insufficient number of tables."
Cat grinned and cleared the trays. "I can take a hint when I hear one. The cell phones, then, and perhaps a walk in the park?"
She sighed. "You could answer my questions occasionally, you know."
Smith raised an eyebrow at her. That, at least, looked like it belonged on him, Cat thought. "You would not adjust your actions in reference to my response," Smith drawled.
Cat cocked her head at him. "If you'd rather not go for a walk, that's fine."
"I did not say that."
"You implied it."
The Agent sneered. "I implied doubt that you require my input before taking action."
Cat snorted. "If you'd ever offer any, you'd find out, wouldn't you?" She grinned. "I think you like the mystery."
Smith's eyebrow moved even further up as he slowed to a stop. "If you still insist on communication devices, this shop will provide them."
"I do," Cat said, brushing past Smith to peruse the models in the glass counter. She touched Smith's arm to get his attention. "I forgot... We'll need a credit card to get service. These places don't take cash."
Smith wordlessly produced a card. Cat glanced at it, hoping for a first name, but it was stamped "National Security Agency." She snorted. It figures.
"Why don't you take care of this? It'll be good practice."
Smith walked to the counter. The clerk, a portly man with a car salesman smile, perked up. "What can I do for ya?"
Smith smiled. "My colleague and are in need of cellular phones."
"We've got 'em," the clerk declared, gesturing at the case. "What are you looking to use them for?"
"We will need them for very small amounts of time when away from the office."
"Well, we've got a pay-per-minute plan that should work for that. A flat fee of five dollars a month, and a sliding schedule for minute costs after that." The man shoved a brochure across the counter.
Smith glanced at it. "That will be acceptable."
"All right," said the clerk. "How about phones, then? The stripped-down ones should work if you don't plan on usin' 'em much." He pointed to a rather blocky, bulky black phone. "Cheap and adequate. Unless the lady would like something with a little more style?"
Cat smiled. "That one will be fine, sir."
"Oh, don't sir me," the man gushed. "Makes me feel old." He glanced at Smith, who was standing stiffly in front of the counter, frowning at the display. "What's a nice girl like you doing with a stiff like that?"
"Oh, we're partners," Cat said airily. "I guess it's a good-cop, bad-cop thing."
"Ooooh, government types. I'd better watch what I say," the man joked.
Smith frowned at Cat, then turned on the salesman. "That is all we require."
The clerk rolled his eyes at Cat, who threw him a conspiratorial smile. "The total comes to $149.75, with activation fees and all."
Smith swiped his card without comment as the clerk busied himself with the phones. "Could you program the other's number into them?" Cat asked.
"Sure thing." The clerk looked at her speculatively. "You don't look like cops. Who are you with?"
Cat's eyes darted to Smith. "He's mad at me for blowing our cover," she muttered. "I'm not much with this detective-in-disguise thing yet."
Smith held out his hand for the phones. "Thank you," he said flatly.
"Hit one, then star, and it'll dial the other," the clerk said a bit sulkily. He gave Cat a sympathetic look as Smith steered her out the door. At least he isn't dragging me this time, she thought.
"Well, friendly you're not but at least you're passable now. All we need is to get you inside, anyway, and you won't have to talk to anybody but me if we work it right." Smith remained silent. "That only works if you actually talk to me, you know."
"This conversation has long since ceased to be productive."
"Ouch! Well, then, color me bored with your company, too." Smith , predictably enough, didn't respond. Cat sighed. "Look at this as your chance to profile a Resistant. I was a reasonably typical one before Neo came along and screwed with my ship."
"I am no longer concerned with the Resistance."
Cat searched his eyes, finding the same careful neutrality they usually held. "Well, what do you do with all of your time these days? I mean, Neo isn't in the Matrix all the time."
Was she imagining it, or did Smith's posture stiffen? "I do not spend all of my time in pursuit of Mr. Anderson."
"I'm glad to hear that. He's hardly worth the trouble." Her tone held real malice. If Trinity underestimated her, Neo was worse. He seemed oblivious to Cat's existence, passably polite if she came to his attention. He certainly didn't trouble himself on her account, mumbling vagaries if Cat ever inquired after the nature of a mission. She resented that more than anything else; it only confirmed her status as an outsider that he'd clearly rather be rid of.
"Do you like ice cream?" Cat queried, spying a vendor on the outskirts of the park. "Never mind. I'm sure you'll like it if you give it a try."
She purchased two pops shaped like Snoopy and handed one to Smith. She felt a little guilty as she picked a path at random. There was no real reason for this jaunt. Smith was already passable as a human being, and one trip to a nightclub ought to give him enough input to act at that as well. Smith was certain to realize that soon, and she'd be unable to find the information she'd been sent to collect.
"I was able to identify patterns in your organization's choice of targets." Smith's voice startled Cat out of her own thoughts. "I was not, however, able to determine why those particular characteristics were chosen."
Cat grinned. Smith was not so indifferent to the Resistance as he pretended. Maybe old habits die hard. "I'm surprised you didn't figure that out. All of the things we look for - the searches, the time spent on the computer - denote someone who has already begun to suspect that something's not quite right with the world."
Smith frowned. "That is necessary?"
Maybe it wasn't so wise to tell him all this... Still, Smith was technically associated with the Mainframe anymore, and even if he somehow managed to pass the information along they already knew the what. What harm could be done if they had the why as well?
"Well, imagine the nasty shock that comes with waking up in a big pink pod, then being told you'd hallucinated everything you ever knew. It's not easy to accept. For most people, it's flat-out impossible. If you thought there was something off anyway, it's easier to accept the explanation."
Smith frowned. "What prompts this conviction that the world is 'off,' as you say?"
Cat shrugged. "It's different for most of us. Sometimes, a particularly clever hacker starts noticing cracks in the system that can't be explained very well. Sometimes, little glitches in the Matrix tip somebody off. And sometimes, it's you guys," said Cat. "That's how it happened to me. I got curious when one of the neighbors disappeared. I always played with her kid sister, until one night there was a shootout on our street and she was gone without a trace. They told us it was terrorists, and her sister was frantic enough that I went hunting on my own. The more I found, the less seemed to add up. It didn't take long for the 'terrorists' to come for me after that. I gave them quite an earful. I probably wouldn't have gone if the neighbor kid hadn't been with them."
Smith frowned at a couple holding hands on a park bench. "Imperfections in the Matrix prompt some humans to resist the program."
"That's quite correct. I'm still amazed that you didn't notice that when concocting your patterns."
"There was no need for such analysis. The signifiers could be pinpointed and potential targets identified. It was not necessary to determine why particular targets were chosen."
Cat grinned at him. "You lot obviously didn't watch enough tv. Every police detective on the silver screen catches the killer by getting inside his head."
"There are few places I would be more anxious to avoid."
Cat snorted and kicked rock in front of her. "I guarantee we have more fun." She preferred to think that Smith's silence meant that he had no comeback for that one.
She squinted at the sky. "It'll be getting dark soon, so we'd better head back. There's no sense chancing the city in at night."
Cat chose the path they'd come down. She frowned. Something just didn't add up. "If you knew exactly what we were looking for, how did we ever free any minds at all? What stopped you from stopping us?"
Smith didn't answer. Cat heaved a sigh. It figured that nothing about this would be so easy. If he wouldn't even discuss secrets that he no longer had a reason to keep, how could she ever pry the very personal information Neo sought from him?
Smith frowned as they again passed the couple on the park bench. "What does that gesture signify?" he asked, pointing.
The man on the bench looked at Smith oddly. Without thinking about it, Cat smacked his hand. "You're drawing..."
Smith whirled, looked at her flush on. Cat had always thought that "chilling the blood" was a cliche. Not so. Her muscles locked as the cold rush crept through her.
It was difficult to work her mouth. "I'm s-sorry. I didn't think," she choked.
"That much is obvious." Cat heard her heart thundering as Smith glared at her. The relief when he turned his gaze away was physical.
"I noticed it in several pairs of humans today, most commonly a combination of male and female. It occurred in a small but statistically significant number of groups," Smith continued, as though nothing had happened.
Cat took a deep breath. It was too easy to forget who - no, what - she was dealing with. She'd allowed herself to be lulled by their relatively comfortable conversation. It wouldn't happen again.
Her legs felt steady again; she started forward, looking straight ahead as she spoke. She couldn't quite face him yet - not after that look. Those eyes had been dispassionate death. "It signifies romantic involvement." Cat was relieved to hear a steady voice. "When people are in love and want to declare it publicly, they hold hands so that everyone can see that they're attached."
Smith frowned. "The gesture was not restricted to male-female pairings."
"Neither are romantic relationships." She bit words off, not yet comfortable with conversing.
Thankfully, Smith seemed to be out of questions for the time being. The walk back to the hotel was a prolonged nervous silence as Cat tried to avoid the realization of just what she'd gotten herself into. He could have killed her right then without any trouble. Lord knows she wouldn't be able to fight him off. It was sheer luck that her unconscious misstep hadn't betrayed anything important. One little slip like that regarding her real purpose here, and she'd be dead before she could blink.
The stiff silence continued as Smith again followed Cat into the elevator. She gathered her nerves, forcing the knot in the pit of her stomach to untangle. "There's no sense meeting until late tomorrow. Say seven?"
If Smith replied, it was lost in her rush to exit the elevator. The phone in her pocket as she fumbled for the room key reminded her that there were things here she feared more than Smith. "Let me test this real quick," she muttered, hitting the keys the salesman had described. A jarring rendition of Fur Elise emanated from Smith's pocket.
"All right," she murmured, still avoiding his face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." She was in her room well before Smith disappeared into the elevator.
~~~~~~~
A/N: Smithfan: You made my whole day. :D I promise that the next chapter will be a bit more eventful. It should come along very soon. (Maybe even tomorrow!)
