Okay, here's a short little (fun) chapter 2... it came to me while re-reading the first chapter and deciding that the birthday cake prospect was too cute to resist! I'm trying to keep this light, Ch1 was a bit dark.

CHAPTER 2-
THE MATRIX. MARCH 27th, 1999.

Briefcase and newspaper in hand, Thomas Anderson struggles to unlock the door to his small, cramped apartment. He jiggles the key for a few moments, and pushes. Jiggle. Push. Jiggle. Goddammit. Suddenly, the door flies open and Tom awkwardly stumbles into the room. Several sections of the newspaper scatter across the floor.

Not bothering to pick them up, Tom just stands there, defeated.

I don't even read the paper.

He walks right over the mess and tosses his briefcase onto the couch. Eyes wander lazily around the room as he moodily shuffles off his suit-jacket. Suddenly. He freezes. And his heart skips a beat.

The ghost was here today.

Curiously, he lifts the black, elbow-length leather gloves off his desk. They're still warm. He rushes back to the door, and checks the hallway, then, scowling, he rushes to the window. Nothing.

Tom paces around the rest of his room, searching for anything out of place. As usual, he finds nothing of interest missing or moved. Typical of his ghost.

The door was locked. The window was nailed shut. Well, shit. I don't have a chimney. So how the hell do you get in and out?

The hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. The paranoia is suddenly back, and Tom, frozen where he stands, nearly stops breathing as he regards the eerily silent room, listening. As usual, nothing.

One day, I'm going to catch you.

The paranoia had started months ago, as simply a vague feeling. An instinct, telling him that he was being watched, followed… studied like a goldfish in a bowl by someone that he couldn't see… but could always sense.

Naturally, his first inclination was to think that he was being trailed by the police. But it didn't take him long to decide that this wasn't the case. It just didn't make any sense. No, this stalker was too peculiar to be law-enforcement.

And the last time he checked, it wasn't the M.O. of the FBI to water their suspect's dying plants. Or pick their clothes up off the floor. But maybe I'm just imagining it, is what he had thought at the time.

But, after finding a mysterious slice of cake in his fridge two weeks ago, Tom Anderson became sure that he wasn't inventing any of this stuff.

Okay, Marble Bunt Fairy, what do you want from me?

The next day, Tom, feeling uncharacteristically witty, had left a plate of chocolate-chip cookies and a glass of milk on the counter. Which, of course, were left untouched. However… and he couldn't be certain of this… Tom Anderson was very suspicious that one of his beers had gone missing from the fridge.

But for the past two weeks or so, things had been very quiet. The prickling feeling of being watched had suddenly gone. With each passing day, Tom found everything in his apartment (including the contents of his refrigerator) exactly as he'd left them. And his plants, unquenched by their green-thumbed benefactor, were nearly dead again. He was nearly dead again.

Indeed, the past two weeks were not the welcome respite from a constant, sickening state of fear and suspicion that one might expect. In truth, after finally being left alone, Tom Anderson felt… well, he felt exactly that. Alone. Again. And the return of that horrible feeling he'd felt his entire life was almost more than he could bear.

It was pathetic, really. The only person who knew anything about him at all was probably this anonymous, leather-clad stalker. To everyone else, Tom knew he was… invisible. He just didn't exist. And when it came to most people, he didn't want to exist, either.

Besides, becoming closer to people just made his chronic feeling of isolation stronger. Of course, when he was younger, and more optimistic, he had tried desperately to be sociable, likable, lovable. But every time he attempted to befriend a colleague, or love a woman, he'd end up feeling empty. Every time, he just couldn't feel enough.

Tom had more of a connection with the poor birds that would get trapped in his office building's lobby in the summertime. Over and over… they'd frantically, desperately fly into the glass. They could see through the window, see freedom. But with each hopeless, panicked attempt, they'd thump up against an invisible barrier. Eventually, they'd either give up, or they'd die trying to get out. Gradually, quietly, Tom is giving up.

He turns his attention back to the gloves and quirks an eyebrow. So you clean and bake like my mother…but dress like a stripper… so. Who are you?

The unlikely riddle puts an intrigued smirk on his face, while the idea of the gloves' owner walking around his apartment sends an eerie shiver down his back. He imagines her eyes traveling over his small living space, her slender fingers moving through his things. It is chilling. But, strangely, in this moment, he likes it.

The familiar presence back in his life is welcome. Almost a relief (he was beginning to feel abandoned). In truth, the idea that someone knows him, or, at least, wants to know about him… is comforting. He just wishes he could see her face. He wonders what she's doing in his apartment. What she's looking for. And why she keeps coming back. He smiles.

Maybe she came back to check on the plants.

Tom shakes his head, as he examines the dry dust in the pots under his bookshelf.

Nope, dead.

He feels guilty.

She is probably disappointed with me.

Tom Anderson is suddenly stricken with how ridiculous he's being.

This is not a relationship, you moron. You're fucked up… and you're pathetic. And you should change the locks again.

He feels his throat constrict as a wave of loneliness passes over him. Frustrated, he rolls the gloves into a ball and pitches them into the trash.

What do you want from me, Bunt Fairy? What are you looking for?

Thanks for great reviews of Ch1... I'm soglad that pple like Rorie! She will be back really soon (I have some REALLY fun ideas for her character, and for some fun "what Zion doesn't know about the myth" stuff...!).

Teasers:

The next 2 or 3 chapeters will be some nice Neo/Trin stuff (because M1 didn't really focus enough on them I think!)... and some sticky Morpheus/Trin stuff (she confronts Morpheus about his "savior hunting", while he confronts her abouther own lack of professionalism... !).

After that, my time line will be at the end of M1. At this point I will move into somejuicy "trinity's past with ghost" stuff---andI promise this will bea very fresh take on it !

Cheers for now! Kristen