I noticed a layout problem with my other chapters, I'm trying to fix it. This chappie is all about moving in and out of homes/worlds and some Programs who don't take a lost race too easy.

Disclaimer:I own nothing.

Please enjoy and review!

Two weeks later I put down the last box, looking around me at my new room. Earlier today Mike helped me move all my belongings to a large room above the shop where we deposited them in neat piles. I brought my bed from home, a large closet and a desk along with a couch and some rugs, and Mike made some shelves from planks lying around in the shop. It wasn't much, but it was comfortable and I loved the industrial lights and the large windows.

"Em, come help me with this," Mike called from the stairs, struggling with my mirror.

I got to him just as it was slipping out of his hands and helped him prop it on the wall opposite to my bed.

"Are we done?," he wheezed, hands on his knees and gasping for air.

"That should be all," I said, inspecting the room. "Did I get to thank you for letting me live here?"

"Seven times precisely," he moaned. "And I told you it's fine every single time. You can bring everyone you want home, unless they make a mess or something like that."

I fidgeted nervously, looking anywhere but at Mike.

"Even a Program?," I asked.

Mike's jaw dropped.

"Are you serious? You plan on getting Tron out? I mean, can you even do that? He's not like us," he deadpanned.

"When we digitize we're just the same as a Program, apart from our different code," I begged. "And apart from that, I can't just leave him alone in the Grid. He is a bit shaken after being reprogrammed, losing the Program he loved and everyone he knew in there. He'll share a room with me, I'll show him around and get him used to our world, and I promise he won't kick your ass. He's also good with motorcycles, I've seen him. Please, Mike, pleasepleaseplease!"

I even pulled the puppy eyes in an attempt to convince him, knowing that he won't resist. And of course he didn't.

"Okay," he sighed, "you can bring him in, but there's only one problem."

"And what's that?"

"Just imagine my mum coming here to see me and me introducing him. 'Hi mum, I'm fine, thanks. Who's the new guy? Ah, he's Em's friend, his name's Tron. Where he's from? Well that's the awesome thing about him, he's actually a computer program from a place called the Grid.' That would be a sight to see, believe me."

He was right, and we both fell silent for a moment, considering our options. After some time, Mike let out a pleased "I got this", pulling out his phone and texting someone.

"I know a guy who can fetch us what we need," he explained, "papers and stuff like that. Tron also looks like he would easily pass as a senior year student, so you can take him to school with you; he'll get used to this place easier that way and he would also have something to do."

"You're a genius, Mike," I cried and he bowed as if he was on stage receiving applause. I kept forgetting that he was a theatre major when he wasn't fixing bikes.

"Aren't you going to get him?," he asked.

"I'll get the place fixed first," I chimed.

"I'll let you unpack then. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

I could swear that I heard him mutter something like 'the things I do for this girl' on his way out.

Later that night when I transported to the Grid safe house I found Tron laying on the floor in front of the shelves reading a book with about ten other volumes around him. I had uploaded them to give the Monitor some form of distraction while I was off Grid, putting some of my favorite titles among classic literature. I noticed the title of the book he was reading: Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451".

"Dystopian worlds, huh?," I said.

"It's educative on the way you Users think," he answered without looking up from the pages, "but I liked 'The lord of the rings' the most. I'm finished with this one too."

The Monitor closed the book and set it on the pile of other finished lectures.

"Welcome back," he purred, getting up.

"What news from the city?"

"One of Clu's generals took control of Tron city and there was some turmoil, but other than that things are silent. I know nothing of Argon and the other cities, though."

I went to the windows, looking at the city that glowed beyond the Outlands.

"I wish I could help them," Tron's voice came behind me as he joined me, "to do what I was programmed to do in the first place, but you were right. They see me as the Enforcer now."

"I told you so, but you had to see for yourself."

"Indeed," he mused. "What do we do now?"

"I've decided that I'll take you with me when I return to the User world," I informed him.

The Monitor looked dumbfounded with the news and all he could do was stare at me.

"Can you do that?" he finally said.

"Sam got Quorra out, their wedding is all over the news, and I could get Mike in and out, so it's possible."

"Are you sure it's a good idea?"

"It's better than leaving you to rot here with more time for brooding than you should have," I retorted. "Come on, let's go downtown."

We both grabbed our batons, but when we went out a huge grin split my face.

"I have another idea," I announced.

"I hope it won't get us derezzed," Tron growled under his breath, shooting me a suspicious look.

"It actually might," I admitted. "Let's race to the edge of town, like from here to he sewers' entrance."

The Monitor threw me a smug look and I smiled back.

"Are you so ready to lose? It may be some time since I last competed in the Race Grid, but I was the champion before the Coup."

"Bring it on, Program," I taunted, shoving him playfully.

"Let's race, User," he shot back, getting ready. "We go at three. One, two...!

I already broke into a sprint, rezzing the Lightcycle and bolting to the city with Tron behind me. He really had a skill with racing, and we sped to the city, focusing on getting to the finish first. When we approached the sewers he was parallel to my Lightcycle and I could almost feel the taunting grin behind his black mask.

"I'm not losing to a computer program," I growled, gripping the handlebars and shooting forward to the tunnel entrance with just a few centimeters in front of Tron's Lightcycle.

We both grinded to a halt and derezzed the bikes. The Monitor derezzed his mask with an incredulous look on his face.

"I want a rematch," he growled. "I almost had you owned."

"Sore loser, are you?," I beamed.

"I never lost a race," he hissed, making me chuckle.

"There's a first to everything," I told him in a matter of fact tone.

"I still want a rematch."

"You're a good racer... for a Program that old," I teased.

"Old?!," he choked, "I'm not that old! Well, I may be, but that's not the point!"

His look of disdain was too much for me and I howled with laughter before my knees gave in and I landed on the ground, tears streaming on my face and gasping for air. Tron graced with a murderous glare, making me break into another fit of hystericals and roll on the floor holding my midsection.

"How old are you, anyway?," he asked when I finally got up and wiped my cheeks, still chuckling.

"Almost nineteen," I answered straightening up.

"See?! You're just a... a..."

He searched for the right word.

"Just a kid," he finally declared.

"You'll have to live with the shame of getting beaten by a kid and a girl, Tron," I grinned, shoving him playfully and he shoved back, kicking my legs from the ground in the same move. The fall knocked the air out of my lungs with a gasp, and the next thing I know was the Monitor holding me in a headlock.

"Rematch on the way back, and I'll show you the true meaning of "sore loser"," he growled in my ear. "Or 'sore User' more like it."

Tron let me up and I motioned him to go first.

"Age before beauty," I teased.

He went first into the tunnel, grumbling something of which I caught only "old my arse", and "is going to get both of us derezzed".

"You cheated," I snapped when we pulled up our Lightcycles in front of the hideout. Tron and I had raced again on the way home, and that damn Program pulled a stunt, activating his Lightribbon and crossing my way, making me stop so I didn't slam into it head on.

"I never said anything about playing nice," the Monitor retorted looking smug. "I win. Nice job on those Guards, by the way."

We had encountered a patrol in the city and we had to fight our way through them to get back. After I finished with them I saw a glint of pride in Tron's steel blue eyes. Ever since I got him out he had insisted to train me every time I went into the Grid, ignoring my protests.

"I was good enough to stay alive before," I protested when he told me I needed training.

"Yes," he admitted, "but you Users have a lot of enemies in the Grid, not to mention your tendency to get into trouble at every step. You have to get even better."

"Tron's boot camp", as I called it, was a painful and somewhat humiliating process.

The first times the Monitor literally beat the crap out of me with implacable ease, always pushing me to my limits. Usually our sessions ended with me on the ground, gasping for air, and Tron towering above me. I progressed fast, though, and soon I wasn't the only one sore and tending to various bruises. The last two times I didn't lose even once: all Tron could get was a tie, and when the last fight ended up with my inactive Disk at his throat he decided that finally I was apt for handling any situation on the Grid.

Combat training was just a part of what the Monitor had in mind for me. Apart from sparring I had to practice the advantages my User status presented, using the environment to my advantage in a fight and even testing my imagination with encoding art pieces. One of the things I made was an extension to our training room, a combat simulations environment which could be powered by any User or Program. It took me four Grid days and nights to get it done, but when I was done even Tron looked amazed. It used the memory files on a Disk to project realistic simulations of anything and everything one could possibly imagine, and Tron put it to use in my combat training, recreating situations from his extensive experience as both System Monitor and the Rinzler.

After a total of half a cycle of grueling training I had with the Program I couldn't even recognize myself in the mirror. I carried myself with the same feline strength the Monitor had, all, if any, fat on my body had burned away, leaving only firm muscle on my now lithe frame. I now had lightning fast reflexes and a keen understanding of how the Grid worked. Mike said that even my attitude had changed. I used to be arrogant and hot-headed, always speaking whatever stupid thing went through my head, which Tron dismissed as a sign of insecurities I tried to hide. After an extremely embarrassing one-sided discussion in which the Monitor had laid down in detail all of my flaws while inspecting my Identity Disk's memory files and thousands of fights ending with a dry "you derezzed again, User" I finally managed to keep my emotions in check and become more confident in who I was and what I could do.

However, tonight was the first time Tron had actually praised me, and I felt even prouder of what I accomplished. The former System Monitor was a ruthless teacher, short on the praises but quick to put me back to my place when I rebelled. When we weren't training he was almost a different person, one with a serious dose of dry humor and a witty mind, not to mention a hot temper. I enjoyed a lot our discussions, mostly the ones about what he read while I was gone. Sometimes he raised some philosophical questions about human nature and things such as religion and spirituality that caught me unprepared, and I had to think a while before answering.

In a few words, even though none of us had declared it, we were good friends now. I knew I could trust the Monitor with my life and that he could do that with me too. It was a nice feeling to know that if you went missing or something happened to you someone would stop at nothing to get you out of trouble.

"Hey, did you glitch or something?," Tron called, breaking me out of my reverie moment. "Let's go, we don't have all the cycle to sit here daydreaming."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, don't make such a racket."

I sprinted after the Monitor, leaping onto his back with a devilish grin and making him groan.

"Are you sure you didn't overenergize?," he complained. "Come on, let me go, you're choking me."

I didn't loosen my grip on his neck and he let out a sigh, grabbing my arms and tossing me over his head. I twisted midair and landed in a crouch.

"I can't wait to show you everything," I chimed, cocking my head left.

"Oh, Users, I know that look," he rumbled.

"What look?"

"When your eyes shine like an imp's it means that you're up to something that'll get us both into the deepest of trouble," Tron deadpanned.

"You have nooo idea what's waiting for you on the other side," I warned wickedly.

The corners of his mouth shot up in a smile for a second and even if he tried to sound all serious and mature and like the Monitor he used to be I could tell that Tron was just as impatient as I was to get to our world. I mock punched his shoulder, unable to hide my growing enthusiasm.

"Come on, don't be such a stiff, it's going to be fun! No more hiding, no more running for our lives when some dumbass wants to have our heads on a serving platter..."

A true smile graced his scarred features this time and he gazed outside to the vastness of the Outlands.

"I'll miss the Grid, but some peace will be good."

"But not too peaceful, though," I warned, "or we'll get rusty. We'll be coming back quite often."

"Sounds good to me," he murmured still lost in his thoughts.

I took his hand and activated the launch sequence.

"Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he said.

I initiated and the already familiar sensation of the transport engulfed me for a second as we transferred back to the User world. Mike was already in the basement, awaiting our arrival, and I steadied the slightly dizzy Monitor.

"Welcome to our world," Mike greeted Tron with a grin spread on his face.