a/n: Hello, everyone, and welcome to chapter 16, written from Trinity's POV (as it is Trinity's memory!) Note: this chapter builds on two previous chapters - ch4 (Trinity and Cypher's history) and ch6 (the first night Trinity cleaned up Neo's cabin on the Neb).

Also note: To put it in context, this is the night before Neo goes to see the Oracle (recall Trinity's comment from the last chapter: Did the Oracle notice you were hung over?).

Enjoy! -Syd

Chapter 16, (part 1 of 2)
Nebuchadnezzar, circa 2199

I sit in the core, staring at the code as I often do at this time of night, but the truth is, I'm not reading a single symbol of it. It's damn irresponsible. One hundred Agent Smiths in ballet slippers could pirouette by, and I would be none the wiser. The system could crash. The world as I know it could end, and I would just continue to sit here with a dreamy smile on my face, humming the tune to that lame (albeit ironic) Backstreet Boys song.

I'll be The One…

Is it any wonder why I've been demoted from ship's first mate to mess hall punch-line? I saw the looks on their faces. I'll never live this one down. But I can't bring myself to care. Not tonight. I'm still flying. I'm still soaring with Neo's hand in mine, his fingers slipping into empty places I didn't even know I had. I keep replaying the experience in my head, addicted to the memory. Addicted to him.

"Whoa."

The breathless exclamation was stuttered as he stumbled on the ledge, his balance faltering on the concrete I'd broken when I landed. I reached out and grabbed his lapel, yanking him back, and he collided with me, our arms around each other.

"We made it," I whispered after we regained balance, my composure never faltering as I stated the obvious. I couldn't look away from his eyes. And he couldn't look away from mine. "Congratulations, Neo. You just passed the jump test."

And I recognized that voice that I used. That was my you-can-jump-me-next voice. Not that any of my colleagues would believe their ears if they heard me name that seductive purr for precisely what it is. I'm good at keeping my personal life very personal. There are a few men in Zion who have known that voice, none of them in the army, and all of them discreet.

But none of them like Neo. Good men, with good hearts… but definitely not like Neo.

He picked me up, lifted me off my feet, and spun me around on the roof of the hotel, laughing and jumping. "We're alive! We're alive, Trin! I can't believe it! This is incredible! You're incredible! And I'm the king of the world! Whoo-hoo!"

Shameless pilfering from the blockbuster Titanic aside, I shared his sentiments exactly. He made me laugh, again. For the hundredth time that night. And the fact that he had the balls to pick me up (I'm still IRS-D base Trinity, after all) was rather impressive. No, not impressive. Romantic. Wildly, madly romantic. I would have kissed him right then and there, if I weren't certain we had an audience of crewmen gathered around the monitors, placing bets on whether or not I would do just that. So I just held onto him, beaming and losing myself in the moment, adoring him for his joy and excitement and the kind of innocence that doesn't exist in this world. Not that he was wrong to celebrate. Only one other person has ever passed the jump test on the second try (not that I like to brag about it).

"Hey, Trin."

I gasp, ripped from my pleasant reminiscing by a rather unwelcome voice. "Cypher," I greet him as nicely as I can, hoping he hasn't been watching me for long. "What are you doing up here? You weren't supposed to relieve me."

"I know. But I felt like taking a shift."

It isn't the first time he's wanted my nighthawk duties. And it's unusual for him, the ship's slacker, to want more screentime. "Watching anyone interesting?" I ask. "I don't recall assigning anyone new to you."

"Naw, just thought you'd be tired from that hot date with Neo. You know, you two make the cutest couple. All of us think so."

"What are you doing here late every night, Cypher?" I demand evenly. "I noticed the memory cards have been wiped more often than they should have been. Entire hours of airtime are missing."

"The Woman in Red and I had a few dates of our own, if you must know." I grimace, and he gins that insincere, twinkling grin of his. "She likes privacy."

"You're disgusting." It seems I'm stating the obvious quite a lot tonight. I stare straight into his eyes, and it's only a few seconds before he looks away. Down to my hands, to the screens, and he lingers awkwardly.

"Cypher, you aren't happy here," I observe, tone softer than the one I normally use with him. I know suffering when I see it. "Why don't you transfer to somewhere else? I know some people in Zion who are well-connected in software R&D. I'll make a call or two, get you in somewhere good."

"You, know, I really appreciate that," he says, with a courtesy that isn't like him at all. "But actually, I've already filed an application for a transfer."

"Oh?" I frown, completely surprised, and mildly displeased to be learning of this development so abruptly. "To where?"

"No, no, no. Don't want to jinx it," he says, crossing his fingers. "I'm still waiting on an answer. But I promise, if it goes through, you will be the first one I tell. Because saying goodbye to you, Trinity, is going to be the hardest part."

His arm rests on the back of my chair, his face too close for comfort. And yet, I can only feel relief that he's leaving. And, perhaps, a flicker of guilt. Because it's no mystery how he feels about me, or that I'm the only reason he has persisted on the Neb as long as he has. I unplugged him long ago into this world that he hates, and indirectly, I suppose I've kept him in it, too.

Thank God, he's finally putting it behind him.

"Look," I say, sliding out of the chair, more to put some distance between us than anything else. "I won't lie to you and say that I'm sorry to see you go. But I do wish you well, Cypher. I hope that wherever you end up, you'll be happy."

I look into his eyes, meaning everything that I just said, and wanting him to know it. I don't like to leave unfinished business. I want a clean break, no hard feelings, no emotional baggage; such nonsense clutters the mind and drains the spirit. And I need both to be strong when I do my job. Otherwise, this entire crew could be dead tomorrow.

My unexpressed longing for Neo and its deleterious effect on my work serves as case and point. Tonight, Cypher probably would do a better job of nighthawking than I, though it costs me greatly to acknowledge the fact. And so I don't try to stop him as he takes possession of the operator's chair. He isn't looking at me, and still hasn't said a word in response to my well-wishes, almost as if he hasn't heard them. But why should I expect anything different from him?

So I turn to leave, heading towards the shaft which leads to the lower level, resolving anew to take Neo aside and tell him how I feel. I can't wait any longer; I can't let the Oracle's grim prophecy continue to control my life. If I were that easily manipulated, I would have taken the blue pill.

"Hey, Trin." Cypher's voice, so soft I almost don't hear it, stops me midway down the ladder. "Sleep well," he says. "You've earned it."

"Yeah," I reply, not needing his permission to enjoy my rest. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The light filtering out from Neo's bedroom door catches my notice as I peer down the corridor, and I'm overcome with both hope and dread at the same time. He's still awake, and I didn't expect to be presented with an opportunity to speak with him so soon. I still haven't decided what to say. And I'm sure my hair looks like hell.

"Shit."

I run my hand through the catastrophe on my head, and pinch my cheeks a few times to coax some color form my capillaries. I'm embarrassed as I do it, but I bite down on my lips, too, nervously tucking hair behind my ears. Double-oh-fire-hazard has seen me looking worse, but this ship's fluorescent lights are a woman's worst nightmare, and I haven't been sleeping well. Not that I'm vain. I check my breath. Or presumptuous.

Alright, Resistance-fighter-Barbie. That'll do.

I take a deep breath and stand outside his door, heart pounding in my throat. I tell myself that I'm just going to wish him a goodnight, but I know in my heart that I won't stop there. This is it. I close my eyes as I softly call his name and nudge the heavy metal forward to peek my head in. But he isn't inside.

Déjà-vu.

I've been here before, the first night Neo spent in this bedroom, back when I couldn't screw up enough nerve even to face him. I tried to sneak by without being seen, only to find the room empty. So I folded his sweater and made his bed, using my obsessive-compulsive disorder as a convenient excuse to avoid going to find him in the mess hall.

I'm tempted to do it again. The room is even more a mess this time, as he's been living in it for nearly two weeks now. I smile, but resist the temptation to tidy up, deciding rather to respect his privacy. Though, if we ever do become lovers, he will have to be trained. No more blowing me up, no more messing with my car (Paulo is veritably traumatized, vain creature that he is), and no more using the floor as a closet. I should make a list before I forget. And is that food on his desk?

"Oh, gross."

My fingertips itch, and it takes only a moment for me to break, wading through the clutter to collect the dishes. And as I march towards the mess hall to clean them, I realize I'm grinding my teeth. The honeymoon is over. When I find him, Neo is going to find that his adorable smile and big puppy-dog eyes will offer him no defense against First Officer Trinity… she is impervious to his charms! She is going to make it clear that on this ship, her rules are meant to be followed, and we do not eat at the computers… Then, and only once I make that clear… I'll tell him that I'm in love with him.

It's a plan.

The sound of laughter stops me, only because I recognize the whooping cackle as Switch, who only laughs like that when she's plastered. I scowl. It seems like everyone is asking for an ass-kicking tonight.

"Oh shit, oh shit," I hear her stutter, barely getting the words out as she gasps for air. "Trinity was right about you, rookie. This guy is hilarious!"

"Trin thinks I'm funny?"

In response to Neo's excited, hopeful question, Switch dissolves into laughter again. "Oh, Christ. This guy could do stand-up!"

"Naw… Can't stand up. Too dizzy to stand up right now."

"I love this guy!" announces Switch.

"No you don't! You called me a pussy," Neo slurs, sounding hurt. "And you've always been mean to me…"

"Switch, say you're sorry." I recognize this as Apoch. "You have been a real bitch to him."

"I have not!" A choir of voices proclaim disagreement. "Oh, fine, you big bunch of pussies. Neo, come here."

My cheeks burn as I rush into the mess-hall. If this is anything like it sounds, they'll all be returning to Zion in body-bags…

"Oh, my God!" I hear my own voice call out as I nearly drop the plate and S-shaped spoon that I'm holding. I've never seen Switch hug anyone before. But there she is, her arms around Neo, whose shirt and pants are piled in the center of the table around a scattering of playing cards. "What the hell is this?"

Apoch and Mouse look up at me, the first shuffling his cards nervously in his hands, the second looking ready to scurry under the table for cover. In the time it takes me to scare the hell out of them, Switch has managed to pry herself away from my Neo. She hiccups, and holds her hands in the air, where I can see them.

"Trinity!" Neo greets me as if I'd just risen from the dead. "You're back! Oh, thank God!"

He practically pushes Switch out of the way to stagger towards me, clad only in boxers and a pair of socks that don't match. "Where did you go for so long?" he asks, throwing his arms around my neck. "I missed you so much!"

"We told you already, Neo," Apoch says patiently. "Trinity had to go to work."

"Oh." He pulls back at looks at me up and down, moving his hands to my waist. "You're not hurt, are you? The agents didn't get you?"

"No, she wasn't doing that kind of work," Apoch explains, in a tone that tells me he'd already been through this with poor Neo. "She was just watching the code. Very safe."

Neo hugs me again, squeezing so tightly I think he might actually break me in half. "Oh, good. Good."

I glare at Switch, Apoch and Mouse over his bare shoulder. "When I get him off me," I say with a voice that would frighten a sentinel, "You're all going to die."

"Trin?"

"Yes, Neo."

"I'm cold."

"Then maybe you should put your clothes back on."

"I can't."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because Mouse won them in the last round of thirty-one."

"Is that so?" I reply. Mouse looks ready to throw up. "Well, that is a problem."

"He can have them back!" proclaims the guilty party, suddenly brimming with the giving spirit. He hands me the shirt and pants, keeping his body (and vital organs) as far away as possible. "We were just playing around."

Playing around, indeed. The traditional hazing associated with passing the jump test is usually much worse (I have the tattoo to prove it). But I'd been unplugged for nearly a year, and had been through two semesters of training. Those circumstances are hardly comparable to a man who has been out fewer than two months. The One or not, he isn't ready to ingest Dozer's paint-thinner, and these three should know better.

I tell them so as I banish them off to bed, helping Neo maintain his balance as he faces the terrific challenge of getting the right foot in the right pant-leg. I'll deal with them more harshly in the morning, if the hangovers don't kill them first. Right now, I have more pressing concerns.

"Neo, hold onto the table, I'm going to get you some pills."

"Pills? No, no more pills. I'm through with pills, Trin. Never again."

I leave him to struggle with his sweater and boots as I fish through the cupboards for acetaminophen. "I know. But you want to take these ones."

"Why?"

I ignore his question as I count out five hundred milligrams of the chalky white capsules and pour him a large mug of water. "Here," I sit him down and present the meds, but he moves away as if I were exposing him to deadly nerve gas.

"No way. Not until you tell me exactly what they do."

"It's Tylenol, Neo." I can't help but smile a little. "Stop being so difficult."

"Difficult? Yeah, if I wake up in a pod of goo tomorrow, I'll show you difficult," he grumbles. "The minute I saw you, I knew you were trouble. The hot ones are always trouble… spying on me… playing games with me… screwing with my mind... Red Queen Trinity… IRS-D Base Trinity… beautiful, perfect… wonderful Trinity…"

"Neo, take the-"

"And you electrocuted me!" he blurts out, as if he'd just uncovered the critical piece of the puzzle that proves my ill-intentions.

"Well, I am truly sorry about that, Neo," I retort sarcastically, raising my eyebrow. "Next time you have a mechanical parasite, I'll leave it to nest in your colon. But don't call me when the eggs hatch."

He grimaces. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"No, I'm sorry, Neo. Take the pills and drink the water," I insist, taking his jaw in my hand to get him to look at me. I take note of his pupils, which seem fine. "You're going to be alright. Trust me."

He hesitates for a moment, apparently calculating his next move very carefully, and then follows my instructions. Though, it doesn't escape my attention that as he drinks, Neo narrows his eyes at me suspiciously over the rim of the mug. I'm watching you, Red Queen...

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Now I see what had Switch so tickled. Neo is an adorable drunk. And somehow… charming, even though he is halfway dead and thinks that I'm trying to poison him.

Beautiful, perfect… wonderful Trinity.

"Okay, soldier," I say once he's done, standing him up. "Now march."

"Huh?"

"It's past your bedtime." I gently push on his back, steering him out of the room. "I've got you. Now, just put one foot in front of the other… and everything will be fine."

tbc in pt2...