a/n:

Hello, everyone - here are chapters 2 and 3 together, because chapter 2 is quite short, and should be read with chapter 3, really.

Thank you all for your reviews, Rhiannon Reeves, this chapter 2 is dedicated to you for you were my second review! And Phantom Cleric - special thanks to you; your review was so sweet and touched me greatly.

Please enjoy this, I know it's a little depressing to have our two lovers at a distance from each other at such an early stage of the story, but I assure you there is method to my madness, and they shall find each other again.

Do keep in mind- they have been married for eighteen years, and have a daughter, so their relationship has changed a great deal. But they are very much in love, and we will see that, as it is one of the focal interests in this fiction- what true love can survive. (Theirs is the "old love" to which I refer in my God-awful summary)...

Chapter 2

When the elevator doors opened, Trinity quickly brushed past him and headed for the conference room, eyes focussed on some distant location straight ahead, as if walking alone and with a purpose. Annoyed, Neo refused to chase her. He walked slowly, deliberately maintaining several paces behind.

Oh, no please, Trin. I insist. After you…

Trinity was clad in the old-style Zionist clothing, wearing a dark beige open-backed halter gown that loosely clung to her curves, draping elegantly to the ground. The hems were subtly gilt in a lace of gold leaf and embroidered with tiny jade beads, both of which were popular additions to the recent garments. Her minimalist jewellery was selected to match: wide, dangling earrings and solid hoop necklace, both made of a marble-like mixture of creamy white and deep, emerald-green jade, set in gold. Far from ostentatious, the ensemble was rather understated by present Zionist standards. That is, after twenty years of relative peace, the fashion-conscious city had enthusiastically embraced the finer elements of life with a vengeance.

To Neo's surprise, Trinity didn't seem to resist a touch of vanity in her life. Several decades in the army had apparently made her weary of rags, and so whenever the Neb docked, she made sure to dress her part as an influential Zion elite. He certainly didn't mind. She looked divine, like a kind of ethereal goddess, or ancient queen from the Far East. Indeed, by Zion's social standards, these parallels would not be inappropriate; the city revered Trinity as much as it worshipped Neo himself. And, as Trinity found that she was incapable of escaping the attention, she'd eventually learned to live with it. Fashionably.

While his wife continued to march ahead of him through the meandering maze of tunnels, Neo let his eyes trace a slow line along the trail of metallic plugs on her spine. As she moved confidently and with grace, chiselled shoulder blades jutted from her back, moving synchronously with the smooth sway of her hips. Over the years, Trinity's body had become as familiar to him as his own but in this moment, her beauty seemed strangely foreign to him. She was not his Trinity, but an exotic, untouchable stranger, statue-like in aesthetic appeal and proud dignity, remote and unattainable. Even to him.

Neo couldn't recall the last time his fingers had teased a slow, meandering line between the plugs on her back, or the last time his lips had lingered on the ivory perfection of her skin. Only that it had been much too long since he'd allowed himself the luxury of taking his time while loving her. Neo frowned. He should be ashamed of himself for not indulging in such a gift.

He tried to remember when things began to change between them. Months ago. Could it have been that long? Neo didn't know. He only knew that somewhere along the way, she'd stopped sleeping with one arm casually folded on his chest, and he no longer expected her to wake him with kisses and soft whispers spoken against his skin. They still made love, but it wasn't the same. Neo always felt that she was somewhere else, worried, anxious, unhappy. It broke his heart to not be able to please her.

The vast conference room was nearly empty, except for Morpheus, Niobe and Ghost who were standing in a small cluster near the end of the councillor's table. Morpheus was wearing the long, priestly robes of a senior council member, and the other two were dressed in standard captain's red V-neck uniforms. Their hushed conversation echoed off the walls.

When Trinity saw Ghost with a bandage around his torso, she quickened her pace, nearly breaking into a run. "Ghost, oh my God."

"I'm fine."

"I'm so sorry." She touched his arm gently, squeezing it a little. "What happened to you?"

Ghost looked over her shoulder to see Neo walking towards them, a rather depressed expression on his face. He waited a few seconds for him to join their circle before beginning.

"We were attacked by a program. A fast one." He exhaled harshly. "And he looked like an agent."

Neo noticed that Trinity's hand was still on Ghost's arm, and he felt something inside his mind snap. He tried to concentrate on the conversation. "Excuse me, he looked like an agent?"

Ghost's eyes vacillated between Neo and Trinity uncertainly, apparently noticing something was wrong. He took a subtle step back from Trinity and regarded the husband with a renewed professionalism. "Yes, but not like any agent that the new operators would know how to identify. His code would suggest that his program was derived from the Old System." Ghost hesitated for a moment before delivering the punch-line. "Neo, he called himself Smith."

There was a long silence as the name hung in the air like thick smoke. Trinity tried to find Neo's eyes but they were fixed on some distant point on the wall. She wanted to touch him, to take his hand in hers, but something in his face told her not to.

"That's a name I haven't heard in a very long time," Neo mumbled.

"Yes, well apparently, he missed you too," Ghost continued. "He killed two of my crew and then sent me back to deliver a message to quote: 'Mr. and Mrs. Thomas A. Anderson'."

"Well, it sounds like him." Neo was still looking at the wall. "Let's hear it, then."

"He said that he wants to help you."

"What?" Niobe raised an eyebrow. "Help them do what?"

"End the War. Those were his words exactly."

The captain of the Logos smirked, but her voice was dead-pan. "Sounds like the guy's been out of the loop a bit too long. Maybe we should send him a MEMO: The War is Over."

"Niobe, two people are dead. I'd hardly say the War is over," Trinity said, finally taking her attention from her husband.

"In any event, I hardly think that helping us is his intention." Morpheus stated the obvious. "Has the Oracle said anything about this?"

Neo shook his head.

After a long silence, Niobe looked at Trinity and carefully remarked, "I can spare my own crews to help out with your upgrades. They're ready on your request."

"Yes, Thank you, Niobe. And thank my daughter for her help, on my behalf."

Niobe shifted uncomfortably, but held Trinity's eyes. "We're lucky to have her."

Trinity jumped when she felt Neo's hand on her back. He gave her a nudge towards the door. "Let's go." He nodded to the other three. "We'll be in touch. Morpheus, I'd advise that we suspend all unnecessary broadcasting until we get to the bottom of this."

"It is already done."