It turned out, they worked quite well together. Greene was like Etna; human, yes, but a logical human. On the other hand, she liked life interesting. It was her goal to introduce Thompson to as many new things as possible. If there was something he'd never tried, she was going to make sure he did.

Sushi was one of the first, during the second week of their patrols. Heartened by the success of her milkshake experiment, Greene lead the way to Sekisui, her favorite sushi bar. They sat at the bar, and as the waitress came with their drinks, she chose 2 rolls from the list and passed the order slip to Thompson.

"Pick two."

Thompson looked startled, but he took the slip. Between the milkshake and now, she'd introduced sodas (he didn't like them), dried fruit snacks (he liked them), and made an attempt at a green tie (he wasn't having it). At least he was open to things. She'd been afraid that he would reject all these things out of hand; she was happy that he was at least being a good sport.

He handed the slip back to her. She'd chosen her two favorites: the "Tiger roll" and the "Titan roll", as well as an order of salmon sashimi. Thompson, on the other hand, had picked the "Volcano roll" and the "Fire roll". She looked at the slip and looked up at him.

"Feeling spicy today?"

"You've given me sweet things up until now. I believe that at some point you're going to want me to try something else, and it might as well be today."

"Very good point," she said, satisfied. She had just enough time to teach Thompson how to hold chopsticks before their rolls arrived. He was quite good at it right away. She showed him how to use the soy sauce and wasabi on the sashimi. His eyes brightened, and he took a nibble from the wasabi again.

"That," he pointed with his chopsticks, "is very, very good."

"What, the wasabi?" she asked incredulously. He nodded, mouth full of salmon. "Well, then, you definitely need to try your Fire roll."

He did, closed his eyes and sighed. Greene giggled delightedly. "You really like that! Ha! I should have known you'd be the spicy type." He looked bemused, but kept eating.

Food wasn't the only new experience she decided he needed. She introduced him to music, too. She liked a lot of zany humor music, and a little electronica. He, on the other hand, didn't have much use for the humor. He liked jazz, and from there discovered blues and jam bands. Anything with a lot of improvisation, he liked immediately. It startled her, a little; he had taken a liking to the least logical, most chaotic form of music. She didn't really like it. Unfortunately for her, he drove, so it was usually his music they listened to. One afternoon, he'd pulled the car up to the curb for her to get in after they'd patrolled a block on foot. Greene stopped mid-stride getting into the car and stared at him in open shock. Agent Thompson was singing. Very softly, under his breath, but he was definitely singing with the music.

"THOMPSON. You're singing."

His eyes widened and he suddenly looked indignant. For someone who didn't have emotions, he certainly feigned them extremely well, she'd noticed. He was constantly either humoring her or mocking her by pretending to have an emotional reaction to something. "I am NOT singing," he pretended to splutter.

"Yes, you were! And you sounded good! What th--"

"Don't be ridiculous, Greene," he said dismissively, and then, "Why do you smell like that?"

She was so taken aback that she wasn't even irritated he'd changed the subject. Of all the senses she decided she was going to introduce him to, scent had not occurred to her. "It's a perfume," she said, astonished that he'd noticed. "A scented oil; they're my favorite." He nodded silently, weaving through traffic. "This one's called 'Gingerbread Poppet'. It reminds me of certain holidays, from when I was very young."

"I see."

"Do you like it?"

"I liked yesterday's better," he said, and immediately looked as though he wished he hadn't. Probably had something to do with her astonished look. He sighed and looked resigned, turning his eyes upward. "I like the ones that make you smell like the park."

"...the park?"

"Like..." he struggled for words. "Like air, I think. And flowers and fruit." He shook his head. "Never mind."

He seemed very irritated, possibly at his inability to describe what he thought. She didn't press the issue; she'd seen him angry and she'd rather not see it again. If agents had any emotions, they were definitely somewhere in the anger spectrum. Greene silently speculated that whoever had created the agents had created a pack of very logical rabid wolves. Still, she smiled to herself. It was entertaining that he thought about how she smelled at all.

This afternoon they'd been assigned to Etna. As the permanent human ambassador to the Matrix, she was always performing some ceremony or another, and on the larger occasions, other agents were assigned to help Smith keep an eye out. Today it was a meeting to discuss the punitive measures taken against redpills guilty of abusing the Matrix in one way or another. The term "peace" was relative, and in this case meant only that no one was openly trying to murder anyone else. The truth was that this was a tenuous balance kept in part by Zion's perception of Etna's "humanity" and the Machines' perception of her as some sort of program. No matter what the disagreement, everyone somehow seemed to feel that Etna was on their side. Today's meeting was taking place in a park; there being little greenery in the real, Etna usually chose to conduct meetings in an outdoor area. Today's guests were important members of Zion's council.

The discussion had become mildly heated, and everyone participating was enthusiastically stating his or her case when shots rang out suddenly. Greene cursed; not 3 feet from her was a redpill with a gun aimed at Etna. She leaned her shoulder down, tackling the thin, bald man. She heard his arm snap as they both hit the ground. She thought that would be the end of it, but he clawed at her as if he hadn't felt the break. He wrenched his way from her grasp and wriggled over the top of her, reaching for his gun. She swung around hard with her hips, kicking the gun away and wrenching her own Desert Eagle from its holster. One shot and the would-be assassin went still. She flew to her feet and looked around; Thompson was standing next to a body and Smith was standing over two men, one with a black-hilted sword protruding from his chest. Greene didn't know Smith ever used a sword, and idly she wondered where it came from. The dying fanatic gasped out his final words.

"Abomination! Traitor!" he hissed at Etna. "An offense to nature. God demands you be destroyed!" He gasped once more and then lay still.

Etna, clutching her arm, was looking at the fanatic, her face unreadable as any agent's. It seemed at least one bullet had hit its mark; her arm was bleeding. She looked at Smith, who was the picture of fury itself, then around at the participants in the meeting, who were standing in various states of shock. One, Greene noticed, had managed to put herself between Etna and the gunman. She seemed to have taken a gunshot wound to the left side of her torso. "I believe we should table this discussion for another time. Tayla should be jacked out as quickly as possible," Etna said, rising and looking a bit unsteady. The guests hurried to comply. Smith took Etna in their car, and Greene and Thompson followed. They drove in silence back to the headquarters, where they made the requisite report. Etna had looked sadly at Greene.

When they were through, they walked back out onto the street, where the car was waiting. Greene wanted to head home, but it was a nice night and she found she'd rather walk. She told Thompson, and to her surprise, he offered to walk with her.

"I don't have anything else to do," he explained, falling into step beside her. "'Abomination', he called her. Why?"

She jumped, startled. She looked at him, then looked down at her hands. "There are those Outside who almost worship Etna as some sort of goddess. They call her The Infinite. It's silly; it was only an accident that brought her here, not some 'fate' or 'destiny' as they'd have you believe." She took a deep breath. "And there are those on the opposite end of that spectrum, who call her an abomination. They believe she is a mockery of human life, and an offense to some 'god' and everything he created. Those are the ones that keep Smith busy."

Thompson nodded. "You arrived via similar means to Etna. You will also attract the zealots."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Etna seems to have done me a favor. She used whatever influence she has in Zion to make certain that my name and the names of anyone else who successfully copies themselves are classified at the highest level." She put her hands in her pockets. "As far as anyone in Zion except my crew and the highest authorities know, I am nothing more than a new agent program. Etna even told them I'm female and have a more intuitive AI because she was trying to boost public relations with residents." She sighed, and looked up at the sky, straining to see the few brightest stars through the street lights. "That's part of what upsets me, though. She can't hide herself. She's common knowledge. So for me, and for anyone else who comes after me, Etna is taking all that hate that might've been directed at us. She's sacrificing herself to shield us, in a way." Thompson looked thoughtful, and Greene went on. "I love Etna. She's the closest thing I've ever had to a sister, and it hurts me to watch her do this." She kicked at an errant stone on the sidewalk.

"Why?"

Greene thought for a minute. Thompson's question was sincere, and he seemed to want to understand this. She was trying very hard to think of a way to describe love to someone who felt no emotion. "Love is an attachment. An extremely strong feeling that you're happier because that person exists. There are different types, but in all of them, the attachment is so strong that you would rather be hurt yourself than allow the other person to be harmed."

"And you feel this way about Etna?"

"Yes. The whole thing is her choice, and I wish it didn't bother me so badly." She took a deep breath and looked at the stars again. "I need a distraction." She thought a moment, biting her thumb as was her habit, and then she turned to him, looking curious. "Would you like to watch a movie with me?"

"I don't have anything else to do," he repeated. That was all she was likely to get from him.

It started to rain just as they came to her apartment building. It was the same building Smith & Etna lived in, but Greene lived several floors down, in a much smaller place. "I didn't really want anything as big as Etna's" she explained as they entered her apartment. "Have a seat on the couch." He did so as she walked through another door. It must have been the kitchen, because when she emerged she had two bottles of soda and a bowl of potato chips. She was also without her tie and coat, and two of her shirt buttons were undone.

They watched Greene's favorite movie, a silly but exciting pirate film. She didn't know how Thompson would take it, but really he didn't react much at all, except to point out which of the actors were actually Exiles. That was rather entertaining. Greene was surprised at one, but had the others pretty much pegged. Thompson drank his soda, and ate at least half the potato chips. He even had the tact to look mildly amused when Greene roared with laughter at her favorite parts. "Your social skills are improving, Mr. Thompson," she announced as she stopped the credits rolling across the screen. He'd gotten up, and she walked him to the door. "Anyway, thanks for sitting around with me. It was nice not to be alone, even if you do converse as much as the average houseplant."

"You're welcome," he said, stepping halfway through the door. "I will see you--" he began, but she had put her hand on the back of his neck. He looked slightly alarmed until she reached up and kissed him, at which point he looked simply stunned. After a few seconds of standing as stiff as a board, he seemed to realize he should kiss her back. He did, wrapping both arms around her and leaning his head down so she could reach him more easily. If he was any indication, Etna's theory that agents could learn anything physical very quickly was correct. It was the best kiss Greene had ever had. He responded quickly to every move she made, and even tugged a bit on her lower lip with his mouth. His lips were soft and his hands on her back were warm. She teased him a bit with her tongue, and was surprised when he met her halfway. She felt a flush rising in her cheeks and ran her fingers through his hair. He pulled her closer and made a soft noise--could he actually be enjoying this?

The thought snapped her out of her daze. "Oh my--Thompson, I am SO sorry," she said, disentangling herself from his arms and stepping backward through her door into her living room. "I have no idea--I don't know what--GAH!" she said, giving a panicked little flail with her hands. Her cheeks were flushed as red as they could go. "I'msorryI'llseeyoutomorrowgoodbye" she finished, almost unintelligibly, and slammed the door.

Horrified at herself, Green ran for the bathroom and scrubbed her face in water as cold as she could make it. With Thompson gaining more and more "personality" and human-like habits, it had become harder for Greene to remember he was an agent program, and not just a very introverted, socially inept, extremely attractive coworker. Today's events had her so unsettled that she'd simply forgotten herself. Leaning her head against the door jamb, she sighed. "I hope the crew was watching. I'm sure they got the biggest kick out of that," she told her reflection ruefully.

Outside her apartment, though, Thompson stood staring at the door, looking as though he was not sure what had just happened. He looked for just a moment as though he might knock on the door again, but stopped with his hand raised and reconsidered. He shook himself a little, reassumed his usual, unreadable expression, and headed for the elevator.

-------------------------------

Thompson couldn't help but think about it over the next few days. If he thought about irony he'd have certainly noticed it now; he didn't have a lot of information about kissing, and when he'd seen it in the movie he'd fired off a query to the system, just to clarify. Agents were curious, a necessity given the nature of their purpose. Not ten minutes later, she'd kissed him completely unexpectedly. For the first few seconds, he'd been too startled to do anything but try and assess the situation. Once he had, he realized that it felt very good. So good, in fact, that he didn't want to stop. And if he were going to be very honest, he really wouldn't mind doing it again. He'd been getting more and more used to Greene's presence, and by this time he thought he was somewhat attached to her, given her explanation of what that meant. He preferred her presence to being alone; he supposed if he were human he'd call her a friend. His only friend. He supposed he should be concerned that he was feeling anything at all, but he had certainly considered it all: it wasn't interfering with his ability to do his work, it hadn't resulted in any poor decisions, and so far it was actually pleasant. It had taken him by surprise when the kiss had somehow sharpened that feeling of attachment. He would like to see if the same thing occurred if it happened again.

Greene had refused to talk about their kiss during their patrols. He had declared this to be a silly tactic, and pressed the issue harder than she'd have liked. She began to answer him with increasingly unlikely threats. In the end, he decided to table the discussion when she vowed to throw him off the Grey Street Bridge, and then throw the car after him. He couldn't be entirely certain she was joking.

Patrols had been eventful as of late. There were more attempts to assassinate Etna; Etna didn't seem to worry much about it, but it put Greene on edge. Then there were the redpills who treated the Matrix as their own personal playground. And then there was the group of redpills who felt their mission was to announce the truth about the Matrix with a bullhorn. Luckily, most people had thought them to be about as credible as the man who stood on the corner of Park Drive and Preston Avenue with a "The End is Near!" sign. Nerves were frazzled all around as the Matrix summer wore on.

"Vacation," Etna had announced at her apartment. She'd invited both of them over for dinner. Thompson usually didn't eat unless Greene made him (or unless he passed that little ice cream stand in the park), but the Anomaly was well known for being an extremely good cook. Tonight she'd made a Thai dinner. She'd put extra red pepper in his, she said. Greene must have told her he liked spicy food.

"What?" Greene asked flatly, her bite of coconut fish and rice halfway to her mouth.

"It's summer. Everyone's squished together in this god-forsaken non-existent city, and everyone's going mad. We need a vacation. Even if it's only a weekend trip. We're all going."

"This is beginning to sound like a bad sitcom episode," Greene said. Thompson had no idea what that meant, having never watched a sitcom, but he couldn't imagine that Etna was including him, and said so.

"Oh, you're coming with us, Mr. Thompson. The more the merrier."

Greene sighed in a resigned tone. "Well, where will this farce take place, then?"