syren_fic | Live Truly, My Heart: Pt. 23 (Reply)

This is Trinity's story - Still definitely AU. Enjoy!
Note: Mouse still hasn't joined the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar.

Part One: Real
Part Two: Search and Rescue
Part Three: The Oracle Speaks
Part Four: Revelations
Part Five: Half of Her Heart
Part Six: Batteries
Part Seven: Life Goes On
Part Eight: Shattered Flight
Part Nine: Truth Be Told
Part Ten: Goodbye, My Friend
Part Eleven: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
Part Twelve: Negotiations
Part Thirteen: Out of Order
Part Fourteen: Getting In
Part Fifteen: Getting Out
Part Sixteen: Breathe
Part Seventeen: Walls and Doorways
PArt Eighteen: Know Thyself
Part Nineteen: Hope and Dread
Part Twenty: Come Together
Part Twenty One: Fire, Water, Earth
Part Twenty Two: Afterglow

Title: Live Truly, My Heart
Fandom: The Matrix
Characters: Trinity, Switch, Apoc, Morpheus, Ghost
Pairing: Trinity/Switch, Trinity/Apoc (Switch/Apoc)
Rating: R (for not-very-explicit smut)

Different Kinds of Trust

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"
I am sitting at the table, pulling my socks on.
Switch is busy making lunch for one, having returned, early this morning, from her own visit with Apoc.
She turns, leaning against the counter, to regard me.
"Can you tell me why you think I won't be?" she asks, lifting her eyebrows.
This is not the question I was expecting her to ask.
I pause, one sock still in my hand, to think about this.
"Because... because he's yours," I answer, not knowing how else to put it.
I see her shoulders sag.
She gives me a look - the one that says, clear as anything, that she'd thought we were through with this particular argument.
"Trin..."
"No, wait," I say, trying to explain, "The way you acted when Amiri came-"
"That's completely different," Switch cuts in.
"How?" I ask, then, "I mean, 'how' as in 'you didn't want to share him with Amiri, so why would you want to share him with me'?"
Switch sighs, sounding suddenly very tired.
"Trin, I was thirteen," she looks at me. "I thought he was trying to take my only family away from me." She shakes her head at me. "You're not taking my family away," she continues, "You're adding to it."
She pushes away from the counter, claims the chair beside me, takes my hand in hers.
"I love you," she reminds me. "And I love him."
She lifts her eyebrows, the gesture almost like a punctuation mark.
"Do you have any idea," she asks, "How much it means to me to see you making each other happy, too?"
"Really?"
She nods, squeezing my hand.
"Really."
She sighs, getting to her feet again, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.
"It's good to see Apoc showing some interest again," she comments, going back to chopping cucumber. "He was a mess after Turbo died. I hope this-"
"Wait, what?"
She stops, sets the knife down carefully on the bamboo cutting board.
"...You didn't know about that," she realizes, looking back at me again, "Did you?"
I shake my head.

"He was one of the Holographics guys on the Ag," Switch explains. She is sitting beside me, again, holding my hand. "Good guy. Funny as hell," her mouth quirks, ruefully, maybe remembering him. "They'd only been together about a year when he died." She adds, and sighs. "It's nice to think he might be ready to get close to someone again."
"What about you?" I ask.
Still reeling from the revelation that Apoc had loved, and then lost, someone before I'd even been unplugged, I'm confused about how he'd have shied away from getting close to people while still being close to Switch.
Her mouth quirks, and she shrugs.
"I'm family," she reminds me. "I'm something else."
She rubs my fingers between her own, and her eyes grow serious again.
"Be gentle with him?"
I nod, not knowing any other way to answer, realizing just how little I know about this man I'm about to see.

Twenty minutes later, I'm knocking at his door.
"Hey," he greets me, softly, ushering me inside.
He doesn't kiss me, I notice, the way he did when I left two days ago.
Too bad.
But he rests his hand on the small of my back as he guides me to the table.
I want to put my arm around his waist, want to get close enough to breath the rich scent of his body.
Be gentle, I remind myself. Don't go too fast.

Knowing that Apoc doesn't talk much is possibly the only thing that's keeping the quiet from being too quiet. The only sound there's been for the last ten minutes is the soft clink of spoon against bowl as we eat jasmine rice and spinach in a spreading, not-quite comfortable silence.
Occasionally he sneaks a glance at me - shy again, the way he was when we first met, and neither of us really knew what to say to the other.
How little has changed.
I can't keep myself from watching, studying, the curve of his strong arm, the broad line of his shoulders. It's too easy to remember what he looks like without clothing in the way.
Goddamn, I think. He is so beautiful.
I think about what Switch told me before I came here, and sigh inwardly.
How do you tell someone that you'd like to go to bed with them - possibly often - but don't really want anything more? Especially after learning something like that?
I rest my spoon against the lip of my half empty bowl.
"Apoc?" I say, deciding to break the silence. "I've never been good at this sort of thing, so I'm just going to get to the point. What is it you want from me?"
He looks surprised at my question, or maybe my voice.
Oops, I think. Maybe that was too abrupt.
He drops his eyes, a smile - a little embarrassed, maybe, but still a smile - playing at his lips.
"Depends what you're offering," he answers, not quite meeting my eyes.
Maybe he does want what I want.
I swallow, poking at the remains of my lunch with my spoon, killing time while I try to figure out what to say.
"I, um," I falter, swallow again, try again. "I really enjoyed the other night," I tell him. "A lot," I add. I think he's grinning. "Really."
"Me too," he confesses, softly. "That was a lot of fun."
"Yeah," I giggle with relief. "Yeah, it was."
He laughs, a soft chuckle that is mostly breath, mostly broad, fleeting smile, and I can't help but smile back.
He licks his lips, almost nervous again, and meets my eyes for the first time since I got here.
"I'd like to do that again some time," he murmurs.
"Me, too," I answer, hardly more than a whisper, dropping my eyes to the table top. I hesitate for an instant, then reach across the table, touch my fingers to his.
"I'd, uh," I stumble, telling myself that, yes, I can do this. "I'd like to do that with you."
In the silence that follows, I look up to see that he's smiling.
"That'd be nice," he tells me.
He takes my hand, strokes my fingers with his thumb, and all my nerves come alive, making me shiver.
I don't want to wait any longer.
I stand, take the two steps that close the distance between us.
"That would be nice," I answer, stooping to offer a kiss, and more than a kiss, to my lover.

He pulls me into his lap, and I wind my arms around his shoulders, pressing closer, so hungry. Devouring and being devoured by that kiss.
His stubbled cheek against my skin, and the lush softness of his lips on mine, his caloused hands slipping under my clothes, making my breath race.
I want more.
My hand planes the column of his throat, my fingers trace the delicate curve of his ear, and he gasps against my mouth.
"Bed?" I suggest, my body aching for more of him.
He kisses me, sucking gently at my lower lip, and I whimper with need.
"Good idea."

After. After his mouth has moved on my body, after he has kissed me, delving between my legs with lips and tongue, gentle and relentless as the tide, after I have savoured his flesh, taking him as deep into me as I could and tasting the salt of his climax on my tongue, after he has kissed the white drops from my lips... After all of this, I lie in his arms, my head pillowed on his shoulder, my fingers playing lightly over his chest.
I trace the line of his ribs, brush his nipple with my thumb.
He chuckles.
"That tickles," he informs me, stilling my hand with his.
"Sorry," I murmur, smiling to myself.
He's ticklish, is he?
For all that I'll likely never have call to use it, I still file the information away in a corner of my mind, the same place I keep the memory that the insides of Switch's elbows are particularly sensitive or that she'll kick - hard - if you brush the soles of her feet, accidentally or otherwise.
"Where else are you ticklish?" I ask, not all that innocently.
"Oh, I'm not telling you that."
I grin.
Game on.
"I bet Switch knows," I answer, teasingly.
The sound he makes at that suggestion is somewhere between horror and surprise.
"You wouldn't."
"I wouldn't what?"
This is fun.
"Gang up on me. I've only got two hands."
"True," I concede. "I'm sure you could think of something to distract-"
But we are interrupted by a knock on the door and, unfortunately, I have to hold that thought.

"Morpheus?"
I hear the surprise in Apoc's voice, as he opens the door.
Hastily I pull on the rest of my clothes.
"Apoc," I hear him respond. "I'm sorry to cut your leave short, but we need to go. The Vishnu sent word that the Oracle has news for us. Get your things pa- Trinity," he blinks, as I join them at the door, but he recovers quickly. "You heard what I said?"
I nod.
"Good. We leave in an hour."
"Does Switch know?" I ask.
"Not yet. I'm on my way there now."
I shake my head.
"I'll let her know."

"Well," Apoc says, closing the door. "That's too bad."
"Yeah," I answer, scanning the room for my socks. I spot them, half hidden under a fallen blanket.
"Do you think we can do this again?" I ask, casually as I can. "On the ship, I mean?" I pull my socks on, not looking at him.
When he doesn't answer I look up.
He is barefoot and dishevled and grinning like a sunrise.
"Am I amusing you?" I ask.
"Yeah," he answers, with a nod. "And, yeah." His smile gentles. "I think we could keep this up."
I can't help but smile back.
Our goodbye is too short, but I leave knowing that we'll find time with each other again soon enough.

I open the door to find Switch has already set a bowl of soy beans to soak overnight.
"Didn't think you'd be back so soon," she comments, with a lift of her eyebrows.
"Neither did I," I answer, ruefully. "Not that I didn't miss you."
Her mouth quirks.
"Yes, I'm sure," she tells me, dryly. "So what happened?"
"It's Morpheus," I explain. "We're shipping out early."
She looks at me, guardedly.
"How early?"
I sigh.
"In an hour."
"Oh, hell."
"Technically less than that."
"Typical," she spits. She looks inordinantly annoyed. "I'll be back."
I turn, watching her walk out the door. She doesn't even close it behind her.
Outside, I can hear her knocking on a neighbour's door.

I am packing my bag when she comes in again, trailed by a man with a neatly trimmed beard, who is carrying a wide-mouthed jug.
"This is Ghost," she announces, by way of an introduction.
"Hi," I say. "Uh, Trinity."
"Hi... Um..." He is staring at me.
"Ghost," Switch interupts whatever train of thought is running through his head. "They're on the table."
"Right." The man named Ghost shakes his head, and proceeds to tip the bowl of soy beans, soaking water and all, into the jug.
"Thanks for taking them off our hands," Switch tells him.
He shrugs.
"No-one wants to come home to mould," he answers. "You'd do the same for me."
"Yeah, if I was ever here."
Ghost throws her a grin.
"Keep safe," he tells her. On his way out the door, he turns to me. "Uh, bye, Trinity."
"Bye."
The door closes.
"Well," says Switch, obviously amused. "Someone made an impression."
"Oh, come on," I protest, stuffing another sweater into my bag.
Retrieving her pack from the cupboard, Switch just laughs.

*~*~*~*~*

Part Twenty Four: Outfoxed

Comments? Anyone? :-)