A/N: I apologize for the long wait, guys. School happened. But regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Thank you to Reviewers: SixFootUnder, Fritz as Pritz, Amanda, Ennya, Rosethorn, and vivalablond. You guys are fantastic, and I really appreciate all of your support! :3

Also, thank you to those who Favorited and Story Alerted: Angel Demone, daylightvampire, Ennya, pugswanthugs, SixFootUnder, Erika the Phantomess, Fritz as Pritz, i'm not ulysses, icetenten, ILovePie930, littlejumper01, NellieTheHeartless, PSPGamerGirl, Scarlet Snidget, and Sidicious.

Disclaimer: Hmm... No... No... Not here, either. I'm so sorry, but I couldn't find a single right to Tron anywhere! D:

Fandom: Tron:Legacy

Pairing: CastorXQuorra

Prompt: Tron 50 Challenge

Title: EntertainmentsandDiversions

Chapter Three: Home

Quorra flipped another page of NineteenEighty-Fourdistractedly, continually marveling at the feel of the thin sheets of paper under her fingertips. It was so unlike anything the Grid had shown her thus far, but that was not what had her so distracted. It wasn't the text itself that was causing her thoughts to be so jumbled, either; indeed, it had been almost thirty-six millicycles—nearly two weeks, by her understanding—since her audience with Flynn, and thus far, she had already read through the novel in her hands twice, now attempting to start on her third. There was just one problem.

"Hey, Quooooora!" A loud voice resounded in her ear as a spandex-covered hand pressed right on top of the page which she'd been attempting to focus on. "Stop ignoring us and join in!"

The ISO glanced up from her book, only to quickly recline further back into her seat at the surprise of seeing another face so close to hers. A young man, precisely the same age as her, grinned widely back at her, his green eyes flashing with mischief. Dark hair hung in a jagged style around his face just as it spiked up haphazardly on top of his head. His black clothing was just as disorderly, fashioned in an asymmetrical style similar to her own. His right arm was covered in spandex while the other was left completely bare, the tattoo of the ISO glowing proudly on his upper arm. Small squares of circuitry were alight sporadically on his chest, arms, and legs, with two solid, glowing, white lines falling from his shoulders, the one on the left running completely down his leg while the right line stopped to wrap around to the back of his knee.

Across the room, another program was sitting at their apartment's dining table, which glowed from the white lines situated around its edges and down its four legs. It was one of the few things that had its own circuitry, since, in these apartments, programs could actually obtain light from flipping a switch to activate the electrical panels on the ceiling and the lamps found throughout the rooms. At the moment, the program stood from his seat, pushing his chair back, to cross the room towards Quorra and the other ISO, the black cloak he wore swaying with his almost silent movements. Flashing a quick smile at Quorra, his white teeth gleaming against his dark skin and clothing, he quickly pulled the male ISO into a headlock, dragging him away from Quorra throughout his loud protests.

"Quit annoying your sister, Rubrix. She's obviously more interested in that book than she is in whatever pigheaded arguments you have to say." He grinned, rubbing his knuckles fiercely against the ISO's head. He didn't see the harm, as the program's head looked like an identity disk had been taken to it, anyway. The head in question, however, thought otherwise.

"OW! Nero! Get off! Not the hair, notthehair!" Rubrix yelled frantically, wriggling away from Nero's grasp, hands going immediately to his hair to rearrange the strands. "Ow!"

"Don't be such a virus next time, then." Nero shook his head, a small smile still curving his lips slightly.

"But she's read that thing a hundred times already! She should have it memorized by now!" Rubrix whined back. "And this is important!"

During this display, Quorra closed NineteenEighty-Four, placed it gingerly on the small table in front of her, and rose from the couch, knowing the two programs well enough that now was the time to dispel an argument before it started.

"Rubrix is right," Quorra stated, shooting him an apologetic look as she ran a hand through her short, ebony locks of hair. "I should have been paying attention instead of reading. Figuring out how we're going to keep paying rent here is more important right now."

Quorra had met Rubrix right after her meeting with Kevin Flynn. Being an ISO himself, he had walked right up to Quorra and started talking to her as if they'd known each other all their lives, which in a way, she supposed, they had. His easygoing attitude and unlimited positivity had calmed her nerves significantly. With how expressive he was, warmth flooded Quorra's circuits in relief. Maybe being an ISO really did make all the difference. She couldn't take it if she discovered that all of the other ISOs except her had been devoid of natural emotion, as programs like Ellipse, Ada, and Clu seemed to be. And it was with a start that she realized that he was the first program of their kind to actually talk to her, to actually interact with her as if it were the most normal thing in the world to do. Up until that point, she had only been treated like that by the Creator and…

But with Rubrix, this kind of interaction was different. There was a pre-established sense of kinship between them to the point that when he had grabbed her hand and pulled her along, saying that he'd found a place that might be welcome for them to live, she didn't resist at all. Immediately, even though they were the same age, she had viewed him as a little brother who needed to be looked after, and it wasn't much of a stretch for her to realize that she wanted to be the one to protect him.

Both of them knew that a compound had been constructed for all of the ISOs to reside in if they so desired, all costs paid in full. But Rubrix proved how similar he was to Quorra the instant he'd revealed that he wanted to become a part of the Grid like the other programs. To live how they live and see as they see. "It's just boring if everything keeps being done for us," he'd said.

That was how they had found Nero. The program was a part of the Grid's security protocol; he had lost his former two partners, and thus his roommates, to a virus they had tracked hanging about the outskirts of the Grid.

"Rent won't pay itself," he had said gruffly to them when they had approached him at the small bar Rubrix had heard that he frequented, a hard look in his eyes as he brushed off their condolences. Despite the kindness Nero had shown them after that meeting, Quorra knew that the loss of his friends in the field was something that was still hurting him, but he was trying to bury the pain deep somewhere. After all, he had still not returned to work, and his energy reserves were running out. Nero had leveled them with a steady, golden gaze, music humming low in the background. "You ISOs are getting paid good energy for that research program of Flynn's, as I understand it."

That was true as well. All of the ISOs were a part of a study that Flynn and Clu had organized when they had been first discovered. Since they had yet to be summoned back to Flynn's tower, neither Quorra nor Rubrix were sure of exactly what the study entailed. They had heard that it was to do with their functioning potential, as they were supremely different from every program that had been created thus far, so it wasn't yet certain what all they were capable of. This study would, perhaps, answer these questions. In addition, the information they acquired on their disks were required to be sent at the end of every day to Flynn, so he could scan them for any anomalies or advancements. Any bite of information that deviated from other programs could tell him a great deal about the ISOs, if he could figure out how to read them, of course. As a result, each ISO was also sent a payment of energy at the end of every day to do with what they wished. Most of Rubrix and Quorra's were being spent through rent and daily living, though they were trying to save up in order to buy tickets to attend the Games. With the recent influx of rent costs, however, it looked like they would have to put off that dream for awhile.

"Look, you two," Nero said in the present, placing a hand on both of their shoulders, "it's no big deal. It's about time I went back to work anyway. I've had long enough to brood here."

"As appreciated as that is," Rubrix stated, brows furrowed in uncharacteristic seriousness, "you don't get paid until the end of every week, right? At the rate we're going, we're going to run out of time.

"I suggest," he announced, pulling away from Nero to pace the room, adopting a sudden air of importance, "that we browse through the poor, downtrodden programs of the Grid and try to find another roommate! One that can pay, of course!"

"But where would they sleep?" Nero asked. "We barely have enough room for us as it is, with Quorra and I taking up the two bedrooms and you bumming it out here on the couch."

"Honestly, Nero. If you want me to share a bed with you, all you have to do is ask."

Rubrix's sudden cry of pain combined with shouts of "Not the hair, I said!" and "Gimme your damn disc, boy, so I can give you that buzz-cut you desperately need!" didn't shake Quorra from her pondering.

While it was true that the ISOs were getting reimbursed for their information and for their participation in Flynn's study, there really wasn't any reason why they couldn't work other jobs, right? And besides, Quorra still desired to see and experience more of the Grid than she had thus far, and getting a job somewhere in its depths would help that. Plus, she'd be able to send more information to Flynn as a result.

It seemed, though, that seeing more, learning more was an unquenchable need that would never be fulfilled, and that realization was starting to speed up her circuitry in a frantic way. In fact, ever since the Creator had shown her thatbook and gave her a small taste of his world, ever since she had read about it herself (What exactly was a newspaper, anyway? A chestnut tree?), she knew that the Grid, for all its wonders, would never be enough for her.

"What'sitlike?Yourworld?"

"You'll see it one day. I promise."

It was a promise Quorra hoped and dreamed would be kept. But, at the moment, the Grid was home to her, its lightning-ribboned skies, its glowing surfaces, and its quirky inhabitants. This was home, and it was enough.

For now.

And it was time she did her home a service.

"Rubrix, why don't you and I try to find work?" Quorra called over the noises of the two wrestling males. Instantly, they broke apart, Nero sending Rubrix a dark glower, which he returned with a cheeky grin.

Until he registered what Quorra just said.

"What?" he cried, aghast. "Work? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh, what's the problem?" Quorra questioned, smiling sweetly at him. "It'll be good for us. You keep saying we need to branch out in the system more."

"And there's always some sort of work to be done in the system," Nero contributed, smirking slightly at the male ISO's reluctance. Of the two, Quorra had proven to be the most sensible. "Keeping a system like this running smoothly is a round-the-cycle job, trust me. I'm sure you two can find something." He paused, before a wicked look came upon his face. He leaned in to Rubrix, saying in a mock-conspiratorial voice, "You could probably easily find work sweeping up old bits of derezzed programs. So many quit from the strain, they're always looking for workers."

"That is cruel and unusual, man!" Rubrix paled at the thought. "Besides, why are you telling me this? She's the one that wants to work!"

"A gruesome job like that is no place for a lady. How sickening of you to suggest it!" Nero said blandly.

"Maybe we should make him sleep out in the hall tonight?" Quorra joked innocently, joining in on teasing Rubrix.

"You!" the shocked ISO yelled, pointing an offending finger at Quorra, before dropping his voice to a stage whisper. "Traitor! After all, I've done for you…"

"C'mon, it's not gonna be that bad." The female ISO smiled a genuine smile this time, before drawing her brother into a hug to intone softly. "Do this for me. We need the energy, and it won't be for too long. You might even find that you enjoy working."

Rubrix returned the hug, laughing softly. "Unlikely. Very unlikely, but...you're right. I'll try. For you."

"I hate to break up this sharing-is-caring mood here," Nero interrupted them, his gruffer side emerging again at such a blatant display of affection, "but if you two don't hurry it up, get out there, and start looking, all of the good jobs will get gone, if they're not already."

Quorra broke away from Rubrix and went to lean against the dining room table that Nero had taken to sit behind again.

"Any suggestions on where to start?"

Scratching his short, black hair, Nero thought to himself briefly before replying. "You remember when I took you two to Flynn's Arcade in the center of Tron City?" At the girl's nod, he continued. "If you go there, about two blocks away to the north, there's a kind of Kiosk center. It's huge, you can't miss it, and your disc will tell you where to go if you do. People looking for employees usually upload job openings there. Just ask one of the people behind the desk for help, and they'll look for something you're interested in doing. Pretty basic stuff."

Nero stared at Quorra, his golden eyes unwavering and unwilling to show his surprise that she hadn't dragged Rubrix's pouting form out the door with her yet. And then he deducted what else she was after. Fishing around in his cloak pocket, he withdrew a translucent rectangle that had a small, blue disc design glowing in its center.

"You can borrow my train pass, I guess. Just be sure to bring it back."

He couldn't resist the fond smile that reached his face as he watched Quorra take his pass triumphantly and proceed to enthusiastically drag Rubrix out the door behind her, as he knew she would. Nero knew he was being too generous to the ISOs, more generous than he had ever been with his two coworkers, in fact, but there really wasn't much he could do about it.

After all, Kevin Flynn had made it clear to all programs in the system that the ISOs were to be assisted in any way possible. The difference between Nero and some programs was that he was actually happy to do so. Over the millicycles, those two brats (well, one was a brat, the other was almost too naïve to function) had grown on him more than he expected, maybe even more than he wanted.

Nero could only hope, after the turmoil he had been going through lately at the loss of his comrades, that that would prove to be a good thing.

It took everything Quorra had to pull Rubrix away from Flynn's Arcade as they passed by the building, with its shining neon sign and it radiating such a welcoming atmosphere. Part of her hoped that he would be too distracted to notice, but that really was a foolish thought. No matter how preoccupied Rubrix was, the soft beeps, whirls, and chatter coming from the Arcade's open doors always broke through his stupor and called to him.

"Just one game of Tron! We're here, in his city, and I might as well pay him homage by beating Clu at the light cycle battle! C'mon, Quorra, please!"

"No."

"Please!"

"NO!"

"Pl––"

"Rubrix, how old are you?" Quorra interrupted, torn between amusement and exasperation.

"The same age as you, obviously" was his dry reply.

"Then, explain to me why I am so much more mature than you!"

"Again, obvious! It's because you're so boring, that's why."

Planting herself into a firm stance, Quorra gave a final yank on Rubrix's arm, who surprisingly gave way and allowed himself to be shoved in front of her, his laughter ringing around her.

"You're impossible."

Her brother ISO ignored her, waving solemnly back at the flashing arcade. "Farewell, my love––"

"––C'mon!"

Though the two attracted a lot of attention from other programs as they traveled their short path down the few blocks towards the Kiosk center, Quorra tried not to notice the stares and whispers flying all around them, and Rubrix remained completely oblivious, chattering happily about the high score he had racked up once from playing Frogger.

Quorra let him have the conversation, though admittedly she was barely listening. One thing she had learned about herself since her creation was that she did not like being the center of attention, especially not by a large group of people. Whenever she went out, however, her skin began to prickle, her spine would tense, and her senses were heightened beyond what she thought was possible. It was why she made a point of never exploring the Grid alone if she could help it, though of course if neither of her friends were available, she would make due with the sharp gazes and the more-than-obvious murmurs. What she truly wondered was if the other programs could just tell she was different from them, or if it was the mark on her arm that tipped them off to what she was. Regardless of that answer, she refused to cover up her tattoo; somehow, that seemed incredibly wrong of her to do, a blatant and ineffective yet no less disgraceful denial of her identity. She would just have to hope that the other programs became used to the ISOs the longer they shared the Grid with them. That, or she'd just have to get used to the unnerving attention.

For of all his reluctance at finding a job, Rubrix became strangely excited when they finally reached the Kiosk. His green eyes danced as he took in their surroundings. The Kiosk was a circular stand which stood in the center of an open square. Assistant programs and self-help databases were located alternately from each other all around the Kiosk, and many programs were already frequenting the area, either looking for work as well or amusing themselves with the food, clothing, and entertainment booths and stores which lined the square. It seemed that, among being a place for information, the Kiosk center was also a fairly popular recreation site for Grid inhabitants.

Quorra took Rubrix's arm and led him towards the Kiosk before he could "accidentally" wander over to the pretzel stand.

"Have you thought at all about what you'd like to do?" Quorra inquired, suddenly curious as she realized that she truly had no idea what she would be interested in or even what her skill sets were. Beside her, Rubrix shrugged dispassionately.

"Eh. Not really. I mean, technically, there is a job that I am a bit interested in, but it doesn't really matter since ISOs are, more or less, restricted from it."

Quorra raised an eyebrow at that. She'd thought that, with as free as Flynn had said this system was, nothing could truly be barred from the programs that lived here. The fact that ISOs didn't have this freedom… She shuddered slightly, a feeling of cold settling disconcertingly within her.

Rubrix must have sensed it, because next he said, "I mean, I understand why, of course. They're aren't many of us, and Flynn's made it perfectly clear that if any of us get derezzed, he wouldn't be able to reconfigure us. There's just too much risk having an ISO work as a security program."

Quorra stopped in her tracks then, forcing Rubrix to stop with her. She looked at him searchingly, but a few strands of jagged hair had fallen into his eyes, making it hard for her to really divulge what his true thoughts were about the subject. From the slight sag of his shoulders and his sudden serious mood, though, it was obvious that he was less than pleased, maybe even a little sad, at the situation. The female ISO reached up, moving his hair out of his face, and settled what she hoped was a reassuring smile on her face.

"You've talked to Nero about this, haven't you?" He merely nodded, so she continued. "Tell you what, then? We'll find something that will accommodate the both of us for now, and I'll try to convince Nero to give you some basic training. If I angle it the right way, I can probably convince him before you can. And, if Flynn ends up summoning me before you, I'll also try to show him why he should make an exception. I'm sure you'd be a great fighter, and the Grid would be lucky to have you as a protector." And since she was already laying it on thick in order to cheer him up, Quorra decided to finish with, "Oh, and, maybe Tron will be there again, and I can tell him you want to meet him! I'm sure if anyone can tell if a program is worthy enough to join the ranks of security, it would be him."

"You–you'd really do that?" Rubrix replied, flabbergasted. Quorra was nice to him, sure, but she was never this nice. Was this a trap? She wouldn't tease him like this, would she? She knew how much he longed to meet Tron, the Hero of the Grid!

"Of course, 'Rix." Quorra's smile widened. "I wouldn't lie about something like this, I promise."

She cried out in surprise, laughing as he suddenly scooped her up in a bear hug, twirling her around once before setting her back down. "You are the best sister ever!" he shouted joyously, the spring in his step back with a vengeance as he fixed a mock-critical gaze on her. "I still can't believe you actually were in the same room with Tron, and you didn't even say a word to him! Hello? You know how much I would give to have been in your position?"

The female ISO just quirked a cheeky grin at him. She knew how he acted in his fanboy moments, and it was best not to add any fuel to the already raging fire.

One of the programs at the Kiosk desk, a light-skinned young woman in a black, linen coat with blue circuitry and bright orange hair that matched her eyes, gave an amused smirk as the two ISOs approached her.

"Good afternoon, how can I assist you?" she questioned, a simulated voice subtly underlining her low, sultry tone.

"Why, yes, you can." Rubrix grinned, leaning down casually on the counter. Both female programs rolled their eyes at him.

"We were told that job listings were uploaded here," Quorra stated, "and that someone here can help us find something we're interested in."

"Ah, yes, that's certainly true," the program replied, activating a touch screen resting within the counter in front of her. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"A job where we could, preferably, work together, but beyond that, I can't really say." Quorra suddenly felt sheepish as her lack of specificity became painfully apparent. "I'm sorry, that's not too helpful, is it?"

"I've heard worse," the program quipped, her fingers flying over the keys as files flashed white lights over her pale skin. Her orange eyes rose suddenly from the screen, flickering over their faces, to the mark on their arms, to settle finally on Quorra. "You're ISOs." She said it plainly, her right eyebrow rising slightly. "I was under the impression that you were all being reimbursed quite handsomely for research."

"We're a bit more independent than most of our kind," Rubrix answered her unspoken quarry, "and I've heard honest work does a program good, wouldn't you say?"

"Hmm," was her distant reply as her attention returned back to her touch screen.

Her questions to them stayed professional after that, and through the research process of the variety of jobs around the Grid, the two ISOs learned very quickly that their capabilities remained a frightening unknown. All Quorra knew was that she wanted a job that would help other people, while Rubrix wanted somewhere he could earn energy and have fun at the same time.

Guess how many jobs fit that description?

To her credit, though, the program helping them remained thoroughly patient as the minutes ticked by; they would turn into actual millicycles if she and Rubrix didn't settle on something, but somehow, they'd always find something wrong with the descriptions or the job itself.

"Are you kidding me? Those hours are horrible!"

"The pay doesn't really seem worth what you actually have to work for…"

"'Employees must maintain a professional tone and a strong work ethic at all times,' what does that even mean? Do you know?"

A small bing! and a flicker of light flashed from their assistant's monitor, interrupting their conversation. Her brows scrunched in confusion as she excused herself to open the message that had just appeared. Her expression cleared when she realized what it was.

"It seems we've just been sent some new job openings," she related to them, scanning the page for something the ISOs would like. She believed she had a pretty good grasp on what they were looking for, now that she had taken the time to observe them. Midway through the list, one in particular caught her eye. "Ah, yes, this might work. A new club is opening up soon, and they're looking for bartenders, hosts, waiters, performers, everything. The hours are mostly nights, but it's a club, so I doubt it'll be boring, andyou'll get to serve the patrons that attend there, as it is a bit exclusive." She looked up to see Quorra's curious gaze and Rubrix's eager face. She smiled. "Sound like a deal?" She already knew the answer.

She held out her hand to them. "Hand me your discs, and I'll give you all the information I have here, including the location of the club. And I recommend that you both hurry over there. A job like this won't stay open for long."

The ISOs did as instructed, and it was only a spare moment before they had their discs back in their hands, and their assistant was wishing them a pleasant day before she moved to help another program that had arrived behind them.

"This'll be awesome, won't it, Quorra?" Rubrix was practically bursting with energy at the prospect. Quorra could have sworn his circuitry was glowing brighter than usual. "Working at the hottest new club on the Grid. Looks like we're getting our adventure after all."

"Don't get too excited. We don't even have the job yet," Quorra cautioned, already activating her disc to bring up the information on the club, so she could read about it herself.

"Always have to rain on my parade, don't'cha?"

Quorra ignored him, reading the text as it scrolled past her on its holographic display. She read the directions on how to get to the club, and she was surprised to find that its locale was actually the new tower that had been built in the center of Tron City near the Gaming Grid, which they had passed on the train. The club's name was called End of Line, and it's proprietor was a program named Castor. A gloved finger reached up to tap on the owner's name, since she noticed that a link to a photo was attached to it. The hologram blipped out for a moment before flickering back to life, lines and curves traveling rapidly every which way to present to her a 3D image of the program's face.

Quorra almost dropped her disc in shock.

There was no way… It couldn't be him!

But it was. At least, it certainly looked like him. But…Castor?

Huh. And here she had been, thinking he had been right when he'd said that she would truly never see him again…

A/N: So, any word on when Tron: Uprising is coming out, or is it already playing on Disney XD and I'm just a loser who's missing it?