a/n: Chapter 20 was dinner. This is dessert.

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The Last Exile
Chapter 21: Guys and Dolls.

Zion. Chapter 2219

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"Mom? Dad?" Rorie calls out to her parents as she and Knight walk into her living room. When she receives no answer, a broad smile spreads across her face. "Okay, we're alone."

Knight rests a few packages on the ground and looks through bags until he finds one from the museum's gift shop. "These are so cool," he gushes, pulling out two pairs of sunglasses and handing Rorie the smaller of the two. "Put them on."

Rorie slides the large ovals onto her nose, and Knight does the same with his limited edition shades of The One (or so the tag reads).

"Whoa," he gasps, in his best Neo impression. Rorie smiles.

"No, no," Knight corrects. "You're Trinity. When Trin is in the Matrix, she doesn't smile. You're lucky if she even talks to you. Try again. Shoulders back, chin high… and scowl just a bit, like you just swallowed a lime."

"A lime?"

"Something sour. She always looks like she has an awful taste in her mouth. She calls it focusing. Or something. I don't really listen."

Rorie tries hard to wipe the smile off her face and imagines chewing on a bitter gumdrop. She stands akimbo, and gives Knight her best deadpan expression. He stares back with equal apathy, and the stand-off eventually becomes a competition. Rorie loses in short order, turning her face away as she giggles.

"Urgh! You're a terrible Trinity!"

"I'm sorry, it's just… these sunglasses. They look so silly."

"What is it with you free borns? This is official old-school resistance eyewear! It drips with attitude! Here… come here, girly-girl." Knight leads her over to a mirror and pulls her hair back, tight. While Rorie has her father's eyes, her slender, ski-jump nose and tiny lips are Trinity's. So with trademark Red Queen shades on, and her long hair tied, she looks very much like a younger version of her mother.

"There," he says to her reflection. "Now, imagine yourself in blood-soaked black leather, packing a pair of Beretta 84's." He touches the nonexistent holsters on her hips, and draws the weapons with a pair of extended thumbs and index fingers. "The agents are chasing you over the rooftops of Hong Kong. Pow! Pow! Pow! Bullets whiz by your head as you run through the darkness. You're swift, elegant, stealthy… but not fast enough. One grazes your calf, another, your thigh. You stumble your way to the edge of the roof. There's nowhere to go… faced with the barrel of a Desert Eagle, you gaze directly into the eyes of the agent, ready to die. Or so he thinks. On blind faith and your legendary instinct, you let yourself fall back, knowing that somehow, the love of your life will be there to catch you."

Rorie, getting more into character, tilts her head slightly to the side. "So, is he?" she asks evenly, her voice a little lower than it normally is.

"Of course. The One has a knack for daring last minute rescues. You're caught, mid-flight." Knight bends her back, and in a very fast, effortless movement, sweeps her up into his arms, carrying her to the couch. "And flown away to a distant rooftop… where you swoon."

"Excuse me?"

He chuckles at Rorie's classic imitation of her mother as he sits with her in his lap. "Yes. Let me see you swoon, Trin-style."

She puts her arms around his neck, and looks into his eyes through dark lenses with a completely blank expression. He smirks and nods. She's getting better that this.

"Neo?" she whispers.

"Yes, my love?"

"Are those… noodles on your shirt?"

"Shit," he curses in the deep, husky voice he has often heard The One use in a crunch. "Damn chopsticks."

"And plum-sauce or your tie?" Rorie grimaces. "Neo! Put me down. You're all sticky. I hate sticky. And messy. And all things fun."

"A miracle you were even born."

"Let's not go there."

"Agreed."

The sound of a key in the front door startles Rorie onto her feet. She snatches the glasses off her nose and Knight does the same, hiding them behind their backs just as Neo and Trinity enter. They are wearing matching squash uniforms and carry racquets.

"Hi Trin…. Sir," Knight greets the pair with his usual disproportionate amount of formality. "Who won?"

"Oh, Knight. You now it isn't important whether you win or lose," Neo says. "It's about the thrill of competition."

"Congratulations, Mom."

"Thank you, Rorie." Trinity slips her shoes off and raises an eyebrow to her daughter, then to Knight. "Alright, what's going on? Are you going to tell me, or are you going to wait until I hear it from the police?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Knight, I know you too well. Your eyes have that look that they get right before you do something stupid. Or right after," she replies, picking up the towel that Neo has just tossed over the back of a chair. She folds it neatly.

"Come to think of it, we see that expression quite often these days," Neo remarks. "Are you sure his face didn't just get stuck like that?"

"Oh, ha, ha, ha." Knight fumbles with the sunglasses in his hand and slips them into his back pocket. "You sound like two people who don't want their presents. Maybe I should just leave two lumps of coal in your sock-drawers and leave with my bag of goodies."

Trinity continues to regard him suspiciously. "A little early for your usual Christmas rounds, Knight."

"Well, it just so happens that your daughter and I went to the museum today."

At this revelation, Neo and Trinity both look like they'd just swallowed limes. "Did you?" she says with an unreadable tone, glancing at her husband sideways. "Well, isn't that… nice."

"I told you, we should have wired that place with explosives when we had the chance," Neo mumbles, pouring some cold water into a glass. "Trin, go get the gunpowder under our bed and start making shells."

"Dad!" Rorie scolds him. "That is not funny. You haven't even seen the exhibit."

"And I have no intentions to. You know I heard they have that sentinel lit up like a goddamned Christmas tree," he comments distastefully, handing Trinity the glass of water after he takes a gulp. "The thing nearly killed your mother and they display it like a trophy. I'm angry with fleet command for even giving it to them."

"Neo-" Trinity shakes her head. "Leave it alone. They don't understand."

"It wasn't all like that," Rorie persists. "A lot of it was very nicely done. People in this city are grateful to you for what you did. What you both sacrificed."

"This city will never know what we've sacrificed," Neo retorts softly, but there is a sudden darkness about him that makes Knight uneasy. "Nobody will."

"Daddy, your sacrifices gave thousands of people hope. They still give people hope. Isn't that worth celebrating? Isn't that worth remembering?"

Neo meets her eyes and sighs. Rorie has a way with her father, and it has never been more clearly demonstrated. "You spend too much time with Morpheus," he says, visibly disarmed. "Soon he'll have you interning on the council and preaching rhetoric in the temple."

"I promise. My rhetoric doesn't leave this house. Uncle Morpheus is vocal enough for both of us."

If there were any tension left in the room, Rorie's wry comment dissolves it. Neo smiles at her affectionately. "Alright then, if I have your word on it. So… you brought us back presents, hm?"

She rolls her eyes. "Knight did. In fact, he spent most of his time in the gift shop. Like always. He'll walk right past a collection of precious animal fossils, and then rush to buy the tacky snow-globe that trivializes the nuclear winter which killed them in the first place."

"I like snow-globes," the young man claims defensively as he produces two plastic bags from his pile of purchases. "Reminds me of my childhood. Eh, Trin? Les hivers blancs à la belle province?"

The reference to their shared home-province of Québec, Canada, makes Trinity smirk. "T'es encore désespérément dépendant du système," she says in his native tongue. It is a common phrase on the ship, one that she uses often when her newbies speak longingly about their lives in the Matrix. You're still hopelessly dependent on the system.

Knight hands her the gift he selected. "So you'll be happy to know I've found a new toy. And I got you, one, too. Maybe later they can spar together. Or mud-wrestle. Or do each other's nails and hair."

Trinity gives him a strange look and peeks into the bag. A smile creeps across her face and her eyebrows shoot up is a strikingly uncharacteristic expression. "Oh, no. You didn't."

"Bien sûr. Vous êtes une superstar!"

"Knight! You monster."

"What is it?" Neo asks.

She hides the package. "It's nothing. It's stupid."

"A Trinity action-figure is not stupid!" Knight exclaims. "She's the new Barbie!"

"A Trinity what!"

"I'll go get that gunpowder now." Trinity tries to scuttle away, but Neo hurries after her, pulling her back into the living room. After some wrestling, coaxing, and a long period of reluctance, Trinity gingerly reveals the PVC-clad doll. It's a roughly ten-inch replica of her RSI, with removable sunglasses and cell-phone. Neo gawks at it, apparently not sure whether to be amused or offended. After a few moments of examining the tiny pair of metal Berettas in her holsters, he decides on the former and laughs it off.

"There's a button on her back that says push me," he observes, glancing from his wife to the figurine, then back to the full-sized version. He pokes her. She slaps him. He pokes the doll, and her tiny plastic arm flies up, then down again in a karate-chop-like motion. "Wow, that's creepy. It's like reverse voodoo or something."

"Oh, my God. It knows jujitsu?"

"No, that's so she can type at the computer. They programmed this thing to crack the IRS-D Base," Knight says drolly, avoiding his captain's glare by handing Neo the second bag. "This one is for you. So that Trinity Junior won't be lonely."

The One reaches into the package and examines his own miniature likeness with a pricelessly bewildered expression. The figurine is shirtless, and ripped beyond reason (the name Arnold Schwarzenegger comes to mind). Trinity chortles as she glances over his shoulder. "Hm. Nice. But who is it?"

"Said Mrs. Pot to Mr. Kettle."

"I thought I was the spoon."

"What I mean is, little Trin's bust isn't exactly proportional to her waist, so let's not get personal." He turns the action-figure in his hands a few times, regarding it curiously. "What's he do?"

Trinity takes it from him and looks it over. She shrugs. "Nothing."

"What?" Neo scowls. "Impossible. He has to do something… I'm The One, for God's sake!"

"Sorry, love. Mr. Kettle can't even boil water. Ironically, it's the only thing you and the Terminator here have in common."

"Well, I have to say… this has me pretty steamed."

"Oh, no."

"Sorry. I knew that one would get me into hot water."

"No, I mean I figured out what he does." Trinity seems to discover a hidden lever. "He flies. Here, walk across the room and I'll show you."

Neo dumbly complies, at which point Trinity quite simply tosses the doll to him. As the two younger people snigger at his gullibility, he folds his arms across his chest. "Yes, thank you, dear. You're very funny. A shame the real you doesn't have an off switch."

"Don't be so sure. In fact, you're turning me off right now."

"Kaboom!" Knight laughs. "Dodge that! You're so cool, Trin."

"Knight?"

"Yes sir."

"Shut up."

"Gotcha."

"You know, their hands fit together perfectly," Rorie chimes in. "They're magnetic."

The husband and wife gaze at each other at the cheesy symbolism, and without a word, they sit the two mini-superheroes together on the dining table, positioning them hand-in-hand. Neo imitates the action on a larger scale and kisses Trinity quickly on the forehead. "There, now," he whispers. "Go get the gunpowder. Tonight, you and I will waste that joint."

Trinity takes his jaw in her hand, pecking him on the lips. "We'll sneak out like ninjas and be back before the nerd even notices."

"I can hear you!" The nerd folds her arms. "And it wasn't all nonsense! You'd see that if you just walked through the exhibit!"

"If you're referring to that marble statue of us, your father and I have seen it."

"Not just that. They have tons of artifacts from your first apartment in Zion. They rebuilt the entire room right in the museum. It's pretty cool."

Trinity frowns. "How'd they get their hands on any of that stuff? I saved everything."

"No, it's all from Dad's place."

"What are you talking about?" Neo scowls. "My place?"

"On level 101, east arc? The quarters assigned to you by the active housing committee at the time. They've declared it a historical landmark. Nobody's allowed to live there."

"Rorie… I've never been to level 101. I couldn't even tell you how to get there."

"Then, where did you…" she trails off as comprehension dawns. "Oh. Ew."

"This, coming from the young lady who is writing a book about my personal life?" Trinity asks. "Is that your professional, journalist's opinion, Rorie? Oh, ew?"

"Yes. In fact, it's the working title of my entire section on your shore leave in Zion."

"Lovely."

"In any case, the public's got it wrong," Rorie concludes. "Dad went home with you."

"Well, of course he came home with me. We had…"

"A tea party," Neo interjects. Off Rorie's scowl, he shrugs. "That metaphor worked when you were four."

"No, it didn't."

"I was going to say we had a committed relationship."

"But… don't you think that it was kinda…" Rorie hesitates and then comes out with it. "Fast?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, how long had you known Dad for… like, three weeks at best? After all your lectures to me about waiting…"

"That's different."

"How?"

A beat passes as all three of them look to Trinity for her answer. She frowns. "Your father… well… he's The One."

"Well done, Mother."

"Okay." Trinity pats Rorie on the head, tucks her hair behind her ear. "You just wait until you fall in love, my dear. Then we'll talk about how long three weeks can feel."

"Trin, don't give her any ideas."

"Don't worry, sir. I'll personally do away with any guy who so much as looks at her." Knight folds his arms with as much macho as he can muster. "Nobody's getting past this bouncer to club Rorie. I am guarding all the doors. I am holding all the keys."

Rorie sighs and pats him on the shoulder. "Which means that sooner or later, someone's going to flatten him."

"Don't think I haven't given that some thought," Knight says, slipping an arm around her waist. "Why do you think I bought myself a Trinity action figure?"

"I wasn't even going to ask."

"She's my backup."

"Yeah, a guy with a doll. That'll scare those pesky suitors away."

They laugh, and Knight pulls her close and pecks the top of her head. He holds her for a beat or two, then whispers, "Speaking of doing stupid things that will probably end with me in the hospital, we have to go."

"Yes. Yes, we do." Rorie picks up the rest of the packages they brought from the museum gift shop. "We'll be back for supper."

Trinity pierces Knight with an ice blue stare. "What are you up to?" she asks in her most intimidating voice.

"Nice try, Trin," Knight slides his sunglasses on. "But I've discovered Neo's secret to defending against your magie noir. Observe. I see no evil… thus I fear no evil…"

Trinity's jaw drops, and she is about to tell him to go elsewhere for food and shelter if she is so evil, but just then the poor boy walks straight into the door. He stumbles back, curses in French, and then says he's all right, if someone could just hand him a tissue, he'll be just fine. Just a little nosebleed… no big deal…

And this is the man guarding her Rorie's virtue?

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to buy her some pepper-spray.

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