a/n: I'd like to again all of you who continue to review this story every time I update - A. Bunny, R. Reeves, L. Stranger, Shatteredimage, Zinck, Phia... (eyes of sky, Fezzes, Chiarastorm, Aurinko, LiMiYa: I hope you're still with me!) you're all wonderful for supporting me. Also, a rather unenthusiastic thank you to my 100th reviewer, AtmoicMerovingian... whom I hesitate to admit is my brother - he has actually played an active role in helping me shape this undersexed plot. (He's a fifteen year old boy, though, so what can I expect!). This chapter, I hope, makes up for it - as we get all little hot 'n heavy with Neo and Trin. As promised, ladies and gentlemen, the fluff:

Chapter 18

"Urrraahhgggg!" Trinity let out a euphoric growl as she turned the key and burst through the door to their upper-level apartment, lugging two heavy duffle-bags behind her, dragging rather than carrying them over the threshold. Neo had two of his own balanced on his shoulders, and in a futile attempt to help his wife, he kicked at the butt of her luggage as she pulled.

"Oh, yes, they're much lighter now," she chuckled, biting her lower lip and giving the bags one last heave into the dark foyer. Dropping the straps and raising her arms in victory, "That's it. We are officially home! Time, Neo?"

He checked his watch. "Oh, it only took twelve hours. You know, I think we have time to go back for another round-table caucus. Maybe get The Oracle on speakerphone this time."

Trinity had been untying her boots, but when Neo said this she began to laugh so hard she couldn't continue. He stared with amazement as she hugged herself, doubled over, body shaking uncontrollably. Then Trinity slumped to the floor, head dropping between her knees. "The Oracle on speaker… oh, God," she managed, face red, gasping for air between outbursts. "I was ready to shoot myself… Neo… and then, then when you fell asleep… I had to kick you under… under the table… you had no idea… Jason Lock was so offended…! His face, Neo! You should have seen… oh… "

Neo grinned as his wife cackled and snorted at her own jokes, tears in the corners of her eyes, chest probably aching from the spasms seizing her diaphragm. Sometimes, she still managed to surprise him. He raised an eyebrow and stepped over her, flicking on the lights and sighing. "You are exhausted, Captain Trinity," he said, stating the obvious as he looked around their blessed domestic haven. It was warm, tidy, and meticulously organized in his wife's uncompromising style, everything exactly as they'd left it, everything as it should be. And God be praised, not a single insect in sight.

They'd moved into this larger two-bedroom loft shortly after marrying, only a few months before Rorie was born, and Neo was surprised by how quickly Trinity had transformed it into a home. Of course, they'd been showered with gifts for the baby, and nothing but the softest, hand-woven fabrics went in the nursery. But Trinity had been just as particular about the rest of the rooms, decorating in cozy neutrals, matching the furniture and rugs to the earthen walls, using colourful candles and unusual Zionist art to give the loft a mixed, eclectic feel. She'd done an exquisite job, and Neo loved coming home to it more every day as it was cluttered with family photographs, Rorie's artwork and other memorabilia of what had been a very happy eighteen years.

"Can I get you a drink?" Neo asked, glancing over his shoulder at his wife, who was back on her feet, yanking off her boots with great effort. She was still giggling to herself. "Something to calm you down a bit? My love?"

She looked up at him, apparently in reaction to his choice of words. "Meet me in the shower with a bottle of scotch," she said evenly.

Neo held her eyes to measure how serious she was. Sex, alcohol, and a hot shower, enjoyed simultaneously; he recalled their old home-coming ritual with pleasant nostalgia. They used to call it 'the instant cure for shell shock,' and from what he remembered, it worked marvellously. "We haven't done that in years, though," he replied.

"Speak for yourself, lover." Trinity wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and smiled into his shoulder. "I drink alone in the shower all the time. Marriage to The One will do that to you."

She was being silly, but it was so late and they'd been through so much that he didn't blame her. She was past the point of combat fatigue, past the requirements of post traumatic stress syndrome. And he wasn't far behind. "Go get started," he said, nudging her towards the bedroom. "I'm coming. Whatever you want tonight."

Neo watched with a mixture of amusement and affection as she walked backwards through the living room, maintaining eye contact as she lifted her sweater and undershirt over her head. Nearly tripping over a chair on her way, she tossed the clothing on the floor, showing off a navy blue bra which matched the generous collection the bruises over her ribcage.

"You should ice those," he said, taking the phone off the hook and checking for messages. The machine flashed 99. He turned it off.

"Did you ice yours?" she hollered back from their bedroom. "And don't lie because I'm about to do a thorough inspection…"

"Uh-oh. Trin."

"No, I moved the scotch to the glass cabinet."

"It's not that." Neo spotted another pile of luggage, pushed out of the way into a corner. Lowering his voice, "We might not be alone. I think our family defector has decided to move back in."

"What?" Trinity hurried back into the living room, tying a robe around her waist. She beamed true joy when he pointed to the bags, hurrying over to Rorie's room, pressing her ear against the metal door and knocking softly. "Sweetheart?" she announced her presence before taking a peek inside.

"She's not there." Neo said the words before she could, holding up a note he'd found on the dining room table. "Dear Mom and Dad, working late at the lab. Don't wait up. Love, Rorie. P.S. Mom, I left Pyro with David. Thought you could use a vacation. Exclamation point, heart."

Trinity took the letter from him, smiling as she read it over to herself silently. "She really is wonderful, isn't she, Neo?" she whispered thoughtfully. "Our Rorie?"

"Mmm." Neo hummed his agreement, loving the sound of his wife's voice when she said 'our Rorie.' He took Trinity in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "You know she's going to want to go," he murmured, interlacing their fingers.

"Yeah." She answered with a sad acceptance that told him she'd already come to the same decision he had. "I know."

"After Defence establishes a reasonable military presence and secures the area, the SRP will send their first wave of researchers." He summarized the decision that had taken over a hundred people four extended debating periods to reach. "I'll speak with Baines to get her a good posting. Yes?"

Trinity nodded, leaning into him as he rubbed her back, her shoulders, her neck. "I've never seen her so happy," she said. "Just her face when you told her, Neo. A child on Christmas morning. It was like that day we took her to the gemstone caves for the first time. Remember that? She was nine. Maybe ten?"

"Nine. Yes, I remember. I remember because you saved her life that day."

"That's an exaggeration."

Neo scoffed his disagreement, turning her face up to his and gazing into crystal blue eyes, as pure and perfect as the sparkling stones which had come crashing down round their daughter that day. Despite his repeated warnings not to touch the walls, Rorie had snuck off to pry a few tanzanite samples from the rock base, hitting a hidden fault-line with her pick. It seemed she'd only been out of their sight for a moment, only a second before Trinity said to herself, "something's wrong," as the ground began to tremble. He'd never seen Trinity move so fast as she darted around a bend in the tunnel, somehow knowing exactly where Rorie had gone. Micro fissures cracked like lightening bolts through the rock and she snatched their daughter from the cave wall, covering her tiny body with her own just as chunks of stone collapsed on top of them. And although Rorie had come out of it relatively unscathed, Trinity was in bad shape.

"What was it, Trin? A collapsed lung, three broken ribs and a shattered collarbone? And the concussion."

She shrugged. "I don't even know."

"Rorie could tell you," Neo said. "She was so upset. She wouldn't leave the hospital until you were alright."

Trinity laughed wearily. "Uh-huh, so I had to fake being alright. Which she didn't buy."

"So she stayed with you. Rorie didn't move until she fell asleep in her chair, her head on your hospital bed. I carried her home." Neo completed the memory with a sigh that was something like relief. "But you were more than Rorie's hero that day, Trin. You were mine. If it hadn't been for you…"

"Oh, don't say it. Please." She touched his face, soft fingertips over rough stubble, from earlobe, to jaw, to chin. "I don't want to think of it. She's okay tonight. She's safe. No more talk of… anything. I can't anymore."

"Alright." Neo slid his hands over the soft, thin fabric of her robe. She had nothing on underneath, and as she moved closer, melting into him to fill every space which separated their two bodies, Neo felt himself begin to relax for the first time in days. They kissed, her hand still on his cheek, cradling him, subtly guiding their intensity, encouraging him to linger awhile before taking her. She loved for him to do that, to go slowly, to tease her with the idea of love. To whisper his intentions in her ear while gently cupping her beasts, while tracing a flight path around her curves, only briefly hovering over the most sensitive places. And as Neo thought of just how well he knew this woman, how in tune he was with her desires, her needs, her whims, he found himself all the more aroused.

How strange that when they first met, it was the mystery of Trinity that had attracted him, the enigmatic allure of the unknown. Even in the heat of their spectacular affair, Trinity had always been secretive, and it had taken him years to discover her fully. "Tell me your fantasies," he'd say as their limbs tangled together, her hands in his hair. "Just one, Trinity. Tell me one." And sometimes, if he was lucky, she actually did. Playful confessions spoken softly in the dark, moaned in his ear, panted against his lips. And yet it was the chase, the pursuit of this intimacy which used to drive him wild.

But now, as the world outside spun out of his control, all Neo wanted was the comfort of the familiar, to make love to his best friend, to know every step to their dance and perform it flawlessly. Trinity was his anchor, and as Rorie steadily drifted away from him, the wind sitting in the shoulder of her sail, his wife held him close, understanding his loss as nobody else possibly could.

"Never mind the scotch," Trinity said against his lips. "How about a nice wine? We'll set it out to breathe while we shower."

He couldn't help but smirk at how her tastes had changed, all the while adoring her for it. "I suppose you want me to shave as well, my Queen?"

"Uhm…" She smiled as she debated her preference, brushing her nose and lips over his two days' growth, marking her travels with a trail of feather light pecks. She worked her way to his ear and said huskily, "No. Keep it. Just… be gentle with me, lover."

Such masterful seduction! With those last five words, every coherent thought diffused from his brain, remnants of syllables dissolved on his tongue. In one fluid motion, he swept her off the ground and into his arms, laughing with her as she giggled and screeched her surprise, attacking his neck with kisses. He carried her through the kitchen and held her next to the wine rack, telling her to pick her bottle, taking jabs at her indecision when she took time to read the labels.

He tapped his foot with mock impatience. "You're heavy, you know."

"How romantic! I'm heavy! You're just getting weak in your old age, Neo!"

"Yeah? Oh, I'll be gentle all right..."

Neo tossed his wife onto their bed, throwing her with more force than was necessary, pretending to be angry, but smiling with his eyes. He discarded his clothing as she uncorked the 2198 synthetic fermentation, taking a graceless swig from the bottle before leaving it on the nightstand and following him into the master bathroom. The shower was pure heaven, though as Trinity sandwiched him against the cool tile, taking him firmly, confidently in her hands, she commented that she'd much prefer another dip in the lake. And while Neo disagreed, hot water beating down on his head, warmth tingling through his body at her expert touch, he couldn't help the feeling that he was under some sort of spell. That whatever magic they'd encountered on the surface was still lingering between them, be it pixie dust or a witch's potion, activating them both with its power.

It must be the magic of hope, Neo decided after Trinity had fallen asleep, her hair still damp from the shower and tangled from their lovemaking. He brushed a few errant strands from her face as he finished the final few drops of wine, thinking of the last time he was this tired and elated at once. Unquestionably, it was the first few months after Rorie was born. She wouldn't sleep through the night, Neo remembered, and he and Trinity were wont to pace back and forth through the living room for hours, trying to soothe her. Finally, after what seemed like weeks without any sleep, Trinity had looked at him one night and said, "Okay. I've got a bit of a crazy idea."

Trinity had wrapped Rorie in a royal blue blanket, placed her in a covered basket, Moses style, and snuck her up to the Loading Dock at half past midnight. They'd used the freight elevator to avoid being seen. Back then, the Neb was only a skeleton of a ship, though Trinity had just supervised the installation of the engine core and a dozen new pads. "Consider this the first real test of this ship's metal," she'd said, fingers crossed as she flicked the naked switches in the cockpit. And the minute the ship began to hum, vibrations tickling their toes as the Neb hovered off the workpad, Rorie stopped crying. "Ah, I must have built a good one," Trinity concluded proudly, stretching into the Captain's chair, baby already asleep in her arms. "This is a good omen." Within a few minutes, Trinity was also asleep, and thought he knew they couldn't stay all night, Neo didn't have the heart to wake her. The image of mother and child, snuggled together in the half-built cockpit was too precious to disturb. New ship, new baby, a new purpose. It was the happiest time of his life.

And although it was premature to be so hopeful, Neo felt the same glow of optimism when he thought about Genesis. Indeed, it was impossible for anyone to experience such transcendent beauty and not be inspired to dream beyond the prudent frontiers of sensibility. The entire crew was intoxicated with thoughts of repopulating the surface, of life beyond Zion. And despite the obvious concerns regarding their relations with 01, and indeed, an understanding with the machine Resistance itself, Neo couldn't help but feel an uncharacteristic flutter below his ribcage. He wasn't wrong about this; they were going to make it work.

And Synergy, the lupine beauty with eyes the colour of granite, was the key to everything. Not just to Genesis, but to him. She was lapping at his toes like an ocean's tide on a hot summer day; her waters were deep, black and icy, and though he couldn't see the bottom, Neo had already decided to take the plunge. Everything about her called out to him, and not a moment had passed in Genesis when he hadn't felt her presence, her voice in the wind, her frigid gaze resting on his shoulders in moonbeams. How could one who lives in such wonders be corrupted by a mere program, a shell of such greatness? Neo refused to believe it. Synergy was stronger than that. His daughter would be stronger than that.

He caught himself. What proof did he have of her parentage? Nothing but a feeling, an instinct he'd suppressed until the reality became undeniable. He'd known it since the moment he saw her, reading the anomalous product of his and Trinity's code with poised disbelief, with concealed awe. And now that he was ready to accept the truth, Neo could see clearly that what the machines had taken as a symbol of peace had become the unrelenting object of their downfall. And if Synergy was true to her word, she would destroy everything to claim the freedom she was owed. The freedom he'd been instrumental in denying her.

But the hope for redemption eclipsed his self-loathing as Neo silently vowed to make her cause his own. He would get her out. He would not abandon her again.

"Neo?" Trinity shifted in her sleep, casually sliding a leg between his, her head on his shoulder. "Are you awake?"

"Mmm." He cupped the back of her head.

"Can't sleep?"

As her fingers danced over his naked chest, Neo had to consciously fight the impulse to tell her everything. He'd always promised himself he would, if he ever found their daughter, if he ever got her back. And while Neo knew it would hurt Trinity, he'd submit to her judgement, he'd trust her to forgive him, even if he'd never forgiven himself. He knew her well enough. Somehow, Trinity would find a way to pull them all together.

But now was not the time, Neo realized, reality sinking in. Synergy's future was still too precarious; she left too many unanswered questions. He'd waited for twenty years; now was not the time to rush things. If they could all hold on just a little longer…

"Neo? Is everything alright?"

"Not yet," he said softly, resolutely. "But it will be, Trin. I promise."