AN: First things first, I'm really sorry about these updates not being as frequent as I'd like to be. I've been trying to balance like a million things and I'm not having an easy time doing it. See, I'm preparing to take my Master's Exam in June and I have lots of studying to do BUT my little sister dumped all of her homework on me as well. Apparently, her being able to hang out with her friends is more important than her homework and it's up to me to keep her academic head above water. Just to add insult to injury, my computer decided to crash over the weekend, meaning I had to retype both of our papers. Ah well…Now, the second thing! This is the last chapter of this story. I decided that this is going to be a short, sort of offshoot of the larger misadventure that's going on here. I hope that's alright with anyone out there still reading this. Anywho, please keep an eye out for the next part of this story! I promise there'll be Matrix-y fun and, maybe, an appearance by the One!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The Matrix, The Animatrix, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Love, love is a verb

Love is a doing word

Fearless on my breath

Gentle impulsion

Shakes me makes me lighter

Fearless on my breath…" (from "Teardrop" by Massive Attack)

"You know," Pixie commented, looking around at where her walk with Wheeler had taken the two of them, "I've never been much for playing catch. Come to think of it, I don't ever really remember playing catch with anyone."

Their walk- Since neither of them could think of any one specific thing they both wanted to do. Neither wanted to shop nor were the hungry. Training was out of the question since that dominated their time when they worked. -had taken them to the last place in Zion Pixie had thought of. Last only because she rarely had the occasion to go there. She'd been there before, true, but she rarely ever made it a point to go there recently. It just struck her as more than a little odd, given the circumstances.

Their walk had taken them to what passed for a park in Zion.

It was a far cry from the parks Pixie knew of- The ones with trees and grass. Green islands in the middle of the metal and glass jungle she called home. – but they still called it a park. The park was made up of long stretches of dirt split down its center and branching into many directions with cobblestoned paths. Here and there along the paths were metal park benches. There was even a playground- Its equipment made of metal and stone- for the smaller members of Zion's population. Pixie had spent some time in that part of Zion's park when she was living with Rain and Eli was younger. She, Aisling, and Adoh use to take the small boy to the playground when they were watching him.

How she and Wheeler wound up in the park was mystery but it wasn't the one she was focusing on. No, the mystery she was focusing on was just how she and Wheeler wound up playing catch.

Before they left Wheeler's home, the boy had picked up something off of his table and shoved it in his pocket. He'd done it so swiftly that Pixie wasn't able to discern what the object was. She'd shrugged it off and the two of them had gone on their merry way. Well, it wasn't really their merry way but the point was about the say. Pixie had paid the strange object no mind and they'd gone on their way into the body of Zion.

It wasn't until they arrived at the park that Wheeler showed her what he'd taken off of his table. It was a roughly made baseball. A far cry, he explained, from the baseballs he use to use. The ones that were covered with white leather and had bright red stitching. This one was made of some sort of rough gray cloth pulled tightly over a rubber core. The stitching was a bit heavier than the baseballs he use to use but not by much.

"You've never played catch before, Pix?" Wheeler blurted, sounding rather stunned as he caught her soft toss, "I don't remember a time before I was playing catch with my dad. It was something we did at least once a day when I was a kid."

Pixie shrugged, as she caught the ball Wheeler, carefully, tossed in her general direction. Her answer was what it was. She'd never played catch with anyone mostly because she'd never had the opportunity. It wasn't something she would have been able to do during her stay in the Matrix.

As it was, she felt silly playing catch with Wheeler. She knew that baseball was very important to Wheeler and it was what he'd decided was the reason he'd gotten out of the Matrix. It was the sport he enjoyed most of all and something she knew he missed since there was no regular baseball in Zion. There were no leagues or anything like that. Just pick up games one had to be lucky enough to get involved in. Though Pixie figured that Wheeler was probably one person everyone wanted on their team.

She also figured that he was holding back on just how hard he was throwing to her now. His tosses too her was of the soft, underhanded variety. They weren't anything like the pitches she knew he had to throw when he was a boy in the Matrix. Those had to be far harder than what he was throwing to her now.

Tossing the ball back to Wheeler- Pixie had decided that he was probably going to tell her she threw like a girl sooner rather than alter- Pixie put in, "I just never had the right circumstances, I guess. Didn't know anyone who would want to play catch with me."

Wheeler caught Pixie's soft little lob and smiled. He played catch often with the man the Matrix told him was his father but it hadn't been a fun activity for quite some time. His father had made him play catch every time he- He being his father- thought he had a bad start. It was around that time that Wheeler stopped enjoying the simple act of tossing a baseball between two people.

This was the first time in a long time that Wheeler found himself enjoying the game of catch. There was no pressure here, no call to impress. It was just him and Pixie tossing a baseball between them and talking while doing it. Not a big deal at all.

"That's too bad," Wheeler pointed out, tossing the ball from hand to hand before throwing it back to Pixie, "It's a fun game to play. Great way to pass the time on a lazy day. At least, for me it was."

"How come you sound like you don't mean that?" Pixie asked, making an attempt to return the ball as hard as she possibly could.

The ball, much to her delight, sailed a bit farther than her last making Wheeler take a few steps backwards in order to catch it. Wheeler seemed to enjoy the fact she made him chase the ball because he as laughing as he stepped back a bit to catch it. At least, in her mind, she wanted to show him that she didn't throw like a girl. Pixie was well aware of the fact she'd never throw as hard as he could but that didn't stop her from trying to.

Wheeler paused and tossed the ball from hand to hand for a moment before, again, softly throwing it in Pixie's direction. He wasn't using kid gloves or anything on her nor was he tossing the ball softly because he figured she was a girl and she was incapable of playing sports. It was more like he knew that he'd hurt her if he threw to her at his full strength. The only person who'd ever been able to catch him without hurting himself was a boy named Ben, his catcher during his stay in the Matrix.

Watching Pixie try and line herself up to catch said ball, Wheeler answered, "I'm having fun now but this game use to not be fun for me. Just something from the Matrix. Don't worry about it. Like I said, this is the most fun I've had in weeks."

"Your dad, right?" Pixie asked as the ball hit the dirt just next to her, making her frown, "You said something about your dad and him being a former baseball player once before."

Pixie picked up the ball and looked at it, her frown deepening. She'd never been really athletic but that wasn't her fault. Circumstance in the Matrix prevented her from being able to play sports or do anything like that. She was better now but, apparently, catching baseballs was still not her thing.

The strange thing was that Pixie didn't find this fact frustrating. Usually when she couldn't do something or had trouble doing something- as in the case of her learning how to bend the Matrix so she could perform what she thought were amazing feats- it would frustrate Pixie to no bitter end. She'd continue to push herself until she was able to do whatever it was she set her mind to. In this case, though, she wasn't annoyed. She was perfectly alright with the fact Wheeler was better with the whole throwing and catching thing than she was.

The ball made a lazy arc through the air, sailing towards Wheeler's waiting hands. He caught the sphere shaped object, putting it in his pocket and gesturing for Pixie to, as his coach use to call it, "bring it in"

For her part, Pixie wasn't sure why Wheeler was ending their little game but she knew he had a reason. She jogged the short distance between the two of them, coming to a stop and kicking up some dirt, at Wheeler's side.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned that something had happened to Wheeler's arm during the course of their game.

"Nothing," the scruffy looking young man answered, looping an arm around Pixie's rather narrow shoulders, "come on, let's go find someplace to sit."

The pair walked a short distance, finding a free bench near the park's playground. The playground struck Pixie as being almost as odd as the idea of a park in Zion, itself. There was just something so completely and utterly normal- like Matrix normal- about it. For some reason, that had always unnerved Pixie. She guessed it was because it was something she hadn't expected to see in the far flung future she called home.

At the moment, the fence that surrounded the playground and separated it from the rest of the park was lined by a few older looking women and a few men. The equipment- the usual mix of slides, swings, monkey bars and other things- was being taken advantage of by a mix of Zion born and Pod Born kids. Their shouts were loud enough to fill the air but not so loud that they were painful to the ear.

"You were right," Wheeler pointed out, speaking to Pixie, "The whole catch thing wasn't fun because of my dad. He just took all the fun out of the game but I guess I owe him."

"What do you mean?" Pixie, curiously asked.

She remembered the stories Wheeler use to tell her about the man the Matrix said was his father. Pixie often wondered if there were any real blood relations in Matrix families or was it just random individuals put together because it was easier for the Machines that way. Aisling had once said that her query was weird, given the fact she was an orphan in the Matrix. Whatever the case was- whether or not they were actual blood relations- the point was still the same in this case. The man the Matrix had told Wheeler was his father was a failed pitcher. Something about him tearing his rotator cuff when he was a minor leaguer in the Boston Red Sox farm system and him not being able to pitch quite the same ever again. Because his dream had failed, he'd pushed all of his hopes on his young son who showed the same talent.

That boy was Wheeler.

"If my dad hadn't driven me insane about pitching, then I would have never gotten into hacking and I would have never found the truth," Wheeler answered, "I would have never found myself here and I would have never gotten the chance to meet you."

Nodding his head as if he was deciding something, Wheeler added, "I owe him for getting me here, at least."

Pixie laughed, a sound that was both nervous and happy. She only wished she had something to say like that. Some reason other than her own desire to escape her death as a catalyst to get out of the Matrix.

She and Wheeler had shared stories about their past lives- including their given names but that was a moot point since they didn't use those anymore- and Pixie had mentioned things about her own past. She just happened to leave out the parts about her dying. All Wheeler knew was that she was a very sickly person in the Matrix and nothing else. Pixie hadn't said anything to him because she didn't want him to feel sorry for her, the very same reason she failed to say anything to Hawk back when they were living in the orphanage.

"I didn't know my parents," she told Wheeler, stating it as if it was a given fact, "I never met my real father so I don't know if I have to thank him for anything. If anything, I guess I'd have to thank Hawk for getting me into the hacking thing."

"I'll make you a deal, Pix," Wheeler broached, "I won't thank my dad if you don't thank Hawk. Hawk doesn't deserve your thanks. You got yourself out of the Matrix with your smarts."

A pink blush covered Pixie's cheeks at Wheeler's words. Her own smarts, in her opinion, could be called into question at any time. She figured she wasn't as smart as she came off to people.

"Whatever got me out; I'm just glad it did. Coming here earned me a new lease on life. I got to do things I never thought I'd be doing," she said, elusively.

The look Wheeler was giving her, the fact she knew Wheeler was the type who would listen to her made Pixie decide to take her answer a bit further. She wasn't entirely sure why she decided to- Since Pixie had avoided telling anyone since her arrival in Zion- but she felt she had to. It was the honest thing to do.

With a sigh, Pixie told Wheeler the whole truth of her situation before her unplugging. It was the Cliffs Notes version to be sure but she still admitted everything to him. The entire truth of her situation in the Matrix, right down to the fact that if she hadn't taken the red pill, hadn't been given the choice when she did there was a good chance she wouldn't have lived to see her sixteenth birthday.

"That's why all of this is so new to me," she admitted, ending her tale, "I just never expected to be able to do any of this because of what I was told. I'm glad I took the red pill and I'm glad to have met you on this side of

the looking glass."
Wheeler was stunned into silence. He, like all of their friends, knew that Pixie had been sickly in the Matrix. She'd told them stories about her many hospital visits but she'd never told anyone about her being that sick. She'd never mentioned that she was going to die.

"Why didn't you say anything before, Pix?" Wheeler asked, once he found his voice again.

Pixie shrugged and answered, "I just didn't want to be treated differently, you know. I didn't want anyone to feel bad for me and treat me different. Please, don't tell anyone I told you. I…I…still don't want to tell them yet."

"Your secret's safe with me," Wheeler stated, "and that's a promise."

Pixie opened her mouth to say something else when her scruffy looking friend added, "And I promise I won't treat you any differently either."

After leaving the park, heading off to get something to eat, Pixie and Wheeler spent the day wandering around Zion, just talking about life, liberty, and what things were like for them while living in the Matrix. It was late when Wheeler brought Pixie back to her home. The dimming of the lights that signaled nighttime in Zion had occurred hours earlier but neither of them paid it any mind. They didn't know when they'd both be in Zion together again and, besides, they'd run into Aisling, Adoh, Ngaio and Conall. That had started a whole new round of fun.

She allowed Wheeler to hold her hand the whole way back, something she wouldn't have normally allowed anyone to do. Her hands were her own and no one else's but she had to make an exception for Wheeler. She liked the fact it made her feel all warm and fuzzy when he did.

There were no nerves to deal with when they arrived at her door. He gave her a small kiss on the lips and laughed when he saw Pixie's cheeks tinge red.

"I have to get use to this," Pixie mused, waving good bye to her friend and heading back into her home.

That was one self-made promise Pixie had every intention of keeping.