A/N
Hello, eveyone! I'm so happy to see some new readers, and am foreverly grateful to those who continue to reveiew every chapter (theres nothing that makes me happier than to know that you enjoy reading as much as I do writing it: DM and LiMiYa,I mean you two especially!).
I just love this cutsy Trin-Neo flirtation stuff, so here's more of it. Chapter nine is almost done, it will follow.
OK: I am also working on a new story, which is intended to be a post- R&R 'sequel' to this one. It's meant to take place twenty years in the future, and is an epic that follows the matrix crew, as well as Rorie and some other "next generation heroes" (morpheus' son? wink wink) on a journey to destroy the matrix entirely and recolonize the surface. I intend to finally address the question of HOW TRIN AND NEO SURVIVED THE WAR (that must be bothering some of you), and there is a huge twist to the story that i wont give away, but suffice it to say that SMITH will be back, and I intend some interesting character development with him (agents have feelings, too!) -
let me know in reviews if any of you would be interested in this, because im excited about developing the story if i can be sure of at least a few readers! (working title: PEPSI PRESENTS: MATRIX, the NEXT GENERATION. lol jkjk)
and enjoy chapter 8! - kristen
Chapter 8
Nebuchadnezzar, circa 2199
Hidden in the shadows behind the Operator's chair, Neo stands directly behind her, watching her; listening as she plays a series of discordant bars at the keyboard.
Tica-Tica; tap, tap, tap. Rest. Tapitty-Tica; tap, tap. Tapitty-Tica-Tica-tap. Rest. Tap. Tap. Rest.
In her concentration, Trinity has not heard him come in, and, now that he's found her, Neo is in no hurry to give himself away. Instead, he listens, all the while imagining her, sitting at those monitors, watching him, just as he's watching her now. Neo knows that Trinity had been his audience for many performances of this type. She'd walked through his home, touched his things, and run those long, slender fingers over his keyboard.
He is also sure that she was the one who cleaned his keyboard. In retrospect, Neo can imagine that this was probably the first thing that Trinity the obsessive-compulsive neat-freak did.
He realizes now that this small service was her subtle, self-indulgent 'hello' to him. She wiped years of built-up dust from between the keys, and lifted the layer of grey grime from the once off-white plastic. Moreover, the fingerprints that had previously smudged his computer screen were gone, and the room smelled like Windex®.
Thomas Anderson answered by nailing his window shut and changing the locks.
Neo's eyes narrow as he stares at Trinity. He folds his arms across his chest.
You probably sat right there and watched me take the bus to the hardware store, buy nails, come back, borrow my landlady's hammer, subsequently hit my thumb with said hammer…
You're just pure evil, aren't you, Trinity? Honestly, how did you sleep at night?
Neo suppresses a whimsical urge to yell out suddenly, frightening his unsuspecting (yet deserving) victim right out of her wits. She could certainly spare some, given all the mischief she'd caused. If it wasn't his plants being watered (may the poor things rest in peace), it was the day-old take-out she'd cleared off his desk. Or his clothes were picked-up and folded (a habit that, it would seem, is not yet out of her system). At one point, Neo even noticed that Trinity had set his clock ahead fifteen minutes. Evidently, his boss was not the only person who had noticed his chronic lack of punctuality.
I can't believe I left her milk and cookies. What I should have done was gotten myself a damn-good guard-dog. A birthday cake wouldn't have saved her from that jam.
He smiles at her. The memory of the bunt cake strikes a cord with him. Strangely enough, this year's March 11th was the first birthday in a long time that he didn't spend feeling completely alone.
Tica-Tica-Tapitty; tap, tap, tap. Rest. Tapitty-Tapitty, tap, tap. Rest.
The musician's delicate fingers lift from her instrument. She softly breathes some heat into her fists and rubs her hands together. Her head dips and her shoulders tense as she begins again.
Tap, tap, Tica-tap…
In truth, Neo had come to enjoy the various unconventional intricacies that characterized their ongoing game. She'd had the advantage in the Matrix, but, clearly, he caught her off-guard last night. Trinity not only skipped breakfast with the crew today, but he also noticed that she was the only one of his colleagues who hadn't watched him fail the Jump Program. Indeed, Neo had almost given up on her.
That is, of course, until he woke up to the dinner tray she left by his bedside. Specifically, what interested him most about the mysterious gift was the state of his unfortunate spoon. She'd bent it into a strange S-shape, exactly mimicking the way he used to bend his heavy metal forks to keep them from toppling nearly-empty Chinese-food containers (which, naturally, she'd cleaned off his desk on more than one occasion).
The mess probably drove you nuts, didn't it, Trinity? I should have spread plum-sauce all over the keyboard before going to work.
Neo can't stop smiling at her. Far from a peace-offering, he knew that the eccentrically warped utensil was her attempt at a smug recovery from yesterday's humiliating defeat. This time, she wanted him to know the gift was from her.
Tica-tap. Tica-tap, tap, tap. Rest. Tapitty-Tapitty, tap, tap. Rest.
Again, the music suffers an abrupt break as Trinity exhales heavily onto her fingertips, trying to recover sensation. She sits on her hands.
"You know, Neo, I can see you from the reflection in the monitors. Which means I've been watching you stare at me for the past five minutes." Trinity turns in her chair, and regards him with her most serious expression. "And, to be quite honest, I'm a bit… bent out of shape? …about it."
Neo, completely taken by surprise, looks back at her like a deer staring straight into oncoming headlights. He can't decide if her pun was intended or not. Indeed, the clever play on words would seem to indicate that Trinity has a sense of humour, but the look on her face and tone of her voice warn him of the contrary. Confused and more than a little embarrassed, he considers simply running away.
"That was a pun, soldier. Not a live grenade. You're going to be OK."
She raises an eyebrow, smirks at her own cleverness, and then, satisfied that she's taught him a lesson, turns back to the keyboard.
Tica-Tica, tap, tap, tap. Rest. Tapitty-tap. Tica-tap, tap, tap. Rest.
Neo walks up to the screens, still uncomfortable, but too drawn in to even think of walking away. He finds Trinity's eyes in one of the many monitors. They're laughing at him.
He leans against her chair and looks over at the side of her face. "Thank you for dinner, Trinity."
"Hmmm." She continues to tap away at the keys. "You're welcome, Neo."
"My poor flatware is less grateful, however."
"Aha." She raises one finger in the air, while her free hand continues to glide across the board. "I thought you'd enjoy a taste of home."
"What? The home you made me completely terrified to live in?" In keeping with Trinity's dead-pan sense of humour, Neo tries hard to sound serious, but he simply can't conceal the pitch of amusement in his voice. "If I'd jumped off a bridge, or checked myself into to a mental institution, Morpheus would have been very upset with you. Apparently, I'm important… to him anyway. But clearly, not every member of the crew has the same concern for my well-being."
Trinity stares blankly ahead at the screen with a sober expression on her face. As she continues typing, a subdued 'Mmm,' is the only answer she offers.
He scowls at her, confused by the grave, non-response to his comment. Trinity is making it rather difficult to engage her in conversation. Perhaps she has simply learned her lesson from last night. Neo decides to try again.
"I didn't see you all day..."
"Well, I was busy."
"Or, you were avoiding me."
The hair on the back of her neck prickles to attention. Of course she was avoiding him, and she hated that he knew it. "No, I'm not. People work." She nods testily at the monitor. She punches the keys with more force now, making numerous mistakes, but she doesn't bother to correct them. "Unlike you and your considerate mentor, I can't play in the Constructs all day. I'm too busy writing them."
As soon as she'd finished the sentence, Trinity regretted saying it. She knows he had an awful day. Mr. Consideration had pushed him harder than she would have liked, and she spent much of the afternoon brooding about it. Trinity had programmed that Jump Program herself, and now she wishes that she'd made the ground a bit more elastic. Or the buildings closer together.
Neo, on the other hand, is unaffected by Trinity's apparent irritation. He continues to beam at her, just as he had the night before she moodily bid him goodnight with an expression that was one-quarter contempt, and three-quarters humiliation. Neo finds it all irresistibly amusing. It is probably the mental image of her making his bed that is getting to him the most. Among other things, the thought of Trinity and her many… eccentricities had kept him up all night.
"Okay. Sorry." He wonders how long she sat alone in the mess-hall before sneaking back to her room. "No need to get upset… just because you were the bunt of some of my jokes."
Her hands pause in the air, and the green vines of code that had been tumbling down the screens instantly freeze. A blinking cursor flickers its impatience at the base of the monitor.
Oh, Neo…
Fighting to keep a straight face, and determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reply, Trinity ignores him, and tries to continue her work. But when her hands hit the keys she realizes that she suddenly can't remember anything about the program she'd been writing. Self-consciously, she types a few lines of gibberish, all the while sensing his eyes on her.
Neo can tell that he's very close: Trinity is either about to burst into laughter, or she's about to strangle him. After a moment of carefully weighing the odds, Neo decides that he is feeling lucky with her tonight. He will take his chances. Somehow, he can tell that Trinity's bark is worse than her bite (After all, she watered his plants, for God's sake… how dangerous could she be?). Besides, his only other option is to turn around and go to bed, and he'd much rather talk to her.
Neo exhales heavily, and nonchalantly leans his arm on the top for her headrest. It is time for his performance's grand finale:
"And now, after a long day of training and being thrown off buildings, you've stopped talking to me? My Ghost is giving me the cold shoulder?" Neo shrugs dramatically, turns his hands palm-up, and looks at the ceiling, as if to ask the gods for much-needed strength and patience. "Well, if that isn't just the icing on the cake! "
Trinity finally abandons her programming by forcefully shoving her chair back from the keyboard and practically leaping to her feet. She stands tall in front of him, hands on her hips, staring at him with a fiery mixture of irritation and amusement. She's too proud to let herself laugh, but can no longer bear to feign indifference. She wants to yell at him, but can't think of anything appropriate to say.
I love it. I've programmed guns, grenades, plastic explosives, bombs… and the only thing that has ever exploded in my face is the damned bunt cake.
Her mouth opens to speak, but her jaw remains idly ajar for a few seconds. His broad, handsome smile holds her captive.
You know, he never smiled like this in the Matrix.
His expression smug and silly and secretive all at the same time… she can tell that he's enjoying every moment of the conversation.
Finally, forcing her voice to be calm, "Neo… please tell me that you aren't like this with poor Morpheus."
He looks at her as if very confused. "Why would I be like this with Morpheus? Morpheus didn't make me birthday cake. And I certainly hope that those weren't his gloves." He fakes a comic mixture of shock and disgust.
In spite of herself, Trinity's face finally breaks into a stifled smile. She turns away from him, trying her best to regain composure, but she knows it is useless. The ridiculous expression on his face, coupled with the mental image of Moprheus in drag, has completely defeated her.
Alright, fine. I give up.
She looks back at him, and allows an honest smile to spread across her lips and shimmer in her eyes. "Tell me, did you enjoy my cake, Neo? I wrote it myself."
"Slaved over a hot keyboard for hours?" He steps closer to her, absolutely delighted with his victory.
"Uh-hum."
"It was marbelous."
"You can stop now; I've surrendered." Trinity mumbles under her breath, still smiling. "No need to torture the P.O.W. at this point…"
"In that case, your cake was delicious."
"Good. Then, in that case, you're welcome."
There is a long pause in the conversation as the two of them stand face-to-face in the nearly pitch-black darkness of the Core, their bodies half-lit with the soft light of computer screens. Trinity is looking at some undefined point on the wall. Neo is tilting his head, trying to find her eyes, much the same way she'd done the night before. He is less successful in his endeavour, however, and eventually gives up.
"So… did you enjoy the welcome mat, Trinity?"
"Oh, charming," she answers, trying to sound as sarcastic as possible. She eyes the Operator's chair and wishes she hadn't been so rash to get up. Trinity feels naked just standing in front of him with nothing else to do. After a few moments of deliberation, she has an idea.
Abruptly, "Tell me. Have you seen the cockpit yet?"
"Uhm… no, I haven't."
"Terrible!" She scowls at him as if he'd just failed some sort of test. "A fine tour Morpheus gave you, hm? In such a hurry to 'throw you off buildings', and yet he didn't even introduce you to the Ship properly." She clucks her tongue twice. "It's just bad manners."
Trinity turns and heads up the ladder. "You know, she's probably hurt."
"What? Who is?"
"The Neb." Already in the cockpit, Trinity peaks down the shaft at Neo's perplexed face. "I'm sure she'd love to finally meet you. That is, assuming I can't convince you to get some sleep?"
tbc...