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Compelled to Disobey

Summary:

He huffed in disgust and anger as he pushed past a group of dancing girls. It was a never-ending nightmare that he could not escape from, so what compelled him to seek her out in the first place...? Whatever it was, it was beyond him. She would have returned on her own within hours, so there was no need for him to be where he was. He could have waited, yet, he did not.

Notes:

***** DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE MATRIX NOR ANY OF ITS Characters *****

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.”  

K. Dick

 

Everything that was on her desk found itself on the floor. She had no need for all those office supplies. Printer, papers, paper clips, pens, record-keeping supplies... Hell, she definitely had no use for a shitty computer they gave her. Just like all the rest, she placed it on the floor and exchanged it with her trusted, carefully configured laptop instead. All she needed was her small portable PC, similarly self-made and carefully configured phone, her own notebook and a single black pen. She placed the notebook and pen neatly on the left side of her laptop, and then she placed her newest baby cactus, blind pricklypear, at the far right corner.  

*

“Opuntia rufida.” the Agent said in a cold voice while he flipped through pages of a thick file. She knew he was doing it to make her nervous, and he was successful. She was a nervous wreck, and she felt shaky with anticipation. “Hackers like yourself usually settle for aliases that are easy to remember." Slowly and meticulously, just like he was flipping through the file, he lifted his head to face her. "Do you think that you are different?" He asked slowly with a small tilt of his head. Silence hung in the air only for a moment too long to become uncomfortable, and then he broke it. With slightly pressed lips and slightly lifted shoulders, he continued. "Perhaps... special?”

His posture was the one that made her feel as if he was mocking her. He was mocking her, and she knew it. With the thick file with her name written on it placed just in front of her, which was far larger that she thought someone could ever find out about her, and with the way in which agent's eerie leveled voice slightly echoed in an overly cold interrogation room, she was beside herself. Her situation was obvious, but she kept her expression as if she was confused, as if she wasn't the one they were supposed to be interrogating - and she was doing it the best she could. The-best-she-could in her case was underestimated way to describe her acting abilities. She was able to reflect what she needed for others to see. This time, however...

“Opu.” She said very slowly and and carefully. As if still confused, she slowly looked over her shoulder at the other two agents who stood behind her completely still.

They were all dressed the same. They all wore the same sunglasses, and it creeped the hell out of her. Slowly turning around to face the 'main agent' again, she continued. “That's the one who you're looking for?" The only thing she was able to do in this situation was to try and play stupid. They certainly had more than enough information about her, so there was no denying she was a part of a worldwide hacker group. The same was following the motto of Robin Hood - steal from rich to give it to the poor. The huge network of computer nerds who possessed various capabilities did their best to fuck up those who needed to be fucked up - those at the very top who were doing anything and everything they could just to get some more, just a little more, even if just one more coin to feed their greed. If the group of all of these anonymous people could, they were doing their best to bring justice to all those who deserved it, and it worked both ways - they helped the innocent, and they screwed with those who deserved it.

"Is that who you’re looking for? The hacker who's known as Opu?”   

Agent silently stared at her, or maybe he was eyeing her all over. With those sunglasses, she couldn't tell. He was sitting a little more leisurely now, and he was slowly drumming his fingers against the tabletop - in a perfectly repeated rhythm. Silence hung in the air again, but this time he didn't break it. It prolonged, and all that she could hear was her own breath and her pulse drumming in her ears, but also that repeating rhythm. It was driving her crazy, as much as not being able to see through those damned sunglasses. She couldn't tell what the man was thinking, or what he was going to do next. She had a certain idea, but she had no actual clue.

Alas, she shifted in her chair and looked over her shoulder at the other two who seemingly haven't changed their posture since she turned to see them last, and then she faced the man who made her feel the most scared with a lifted eyebrow. Now, she was looking at him questioningly. Now, she was the one who was asking questions, albeit in a silent manner. What the hell were these people going to do with her? What was their plan? If only she could see what was hidden behind those sunglasses... It frustrated her, and anxiety only made it worse.

Out of nowhere, and finally, agent moved. He took a slow and deep breath, and then sighed in a way that indicated he had enough of people who were doing the exact thing she was. He seemed like he was tired of it all. Slowly and with a smooth, calculated and almost theatrical motion, he took his deep greenish-blackish sunglasses off. Behind them, there were two piercing blue eyes. In an instant, she regretted her wish of him taking those sunglasses off. Those damned eyes and the way he was watching her made her feel like he was able to see straight through her. Now truly being eye to eye - on the same level - a small shiver made its way down the length of her spine.

"No." He said with the same leveled tone.

No? They weren't looking for Opu? Who the heck were they then-

"We are not looking for Opu." He answered her question even before she was able to fully form it.

It only made her growing anxiety worse. Deciding to continue to play stupid, she raised both of her eyebrows questioningly again. This time however, she wasn't able to fully conceal her nervousness. With those piercing eyes not moving from hers at all, she couldn't hold it and a hint of her fear became visible. Even if it was only for a second or two, the man saw it without a doubt. There was no taking it back, and it seemed it was exactly what he was looking for.

"There is no need to look for them, when 'them' is already sitting before me."

In an instant, a shiver settled in between her shoulder blades, and she had to fight it so it wouldn't make her shoulders shiver in a visible way. Yes. Yes, those icy blue eyes were able to see right through her, to see her very core, and it got hairs at the back of her neck stand up.

*  

She shook her head to chase away any further thoughts. She wasn't a fan of that uncomfortable feeling that had settled in her lower abdomen then, and she was no fan of being reminded of it now. She needed a distraction, something to make her feel better, so she looked over her new working space. She placed her hands on her hips and slightly pressed her lips in approval. “That’ll do. That’s all that Opu needs to rock.”

She was lucky that those creepy agents got her working for them instead of sending her straight to prison. She didn't want to think about the full degree of what she had done and the sentence she'd get as such. The government wasn't happy about people like her at all, so she knew her sentence would be everything but sunshine and rainbows. Considering circumstances, this was great - so to say. In truth, she never imagined she'd be caught. She was really good at what she did, so how they got to her and how they got so much information about her was mystery. Sure, she made a mistake here or there which happened to everyone, but those mistakes happened so long ago she barely remembered them. She was frustrated - she still had a lot of questions and very little answers. Either way, she was sure that any answers to any of her questions would leave her with more questions - and that would be if any of the agents would even care to entertain her. She had a strong feeling that they would not.

“You will need that printer, miss Marshall.” A cold voice startled her and she quickly turned around.  

‘We know who you are’ - it echoed in her head again and again like a broken record.   

*

“I don’t understand - I, I don't know why you think that.” Her tone was underlined with a hint of defiance. She knew very well that she was done for, and her defense in situations alike these was offense. "I’m no one.”  

A small, barely visible taunting smile appeared on the agent's face, but it didn't last long. She watched his expression falling to its unreadable self when he lifted his hand and pressed it over the ear piece he was wearing. Whatever it was about, she couldn't say, but as soon as his hand moved away, his already sharp features sharpened even more. He fixed his tie, his teeth were grit and his movement precise and quick. All the while, his eyes were trained on those two behind her, but as soon as he was happy that he was presentable, he turned back to her.  

“There is no need to be shy, miss Marshall.” He spoke in his seemingly usual leveled tone, but this time it had a hint of amusement. That smile was perhaps gone, but he found a different way to taunt her. “You ought to take credit for your hard work.” He made a pause. His eyes burned straight into hers, and as much as she wanted to, she couldn't look away.  

Her anxiety steadily worked its way into a panicked state, and now it was truly starting to get to her. Those eyes remained fixated on hers, and her own were glued to his. She had no clue what her expression was right then and there, but she was definitely scared. His presence alone was enough, but he wasn't supposed to know that Opu came from Opuntia rufida, which was Latin for blind pricklypear. She never explained why her alias was what it was, no matter that she had used it from the very start. Her love for cacti was her own little guilty pleasure, and it was only her brother that knew. It had little to do with what she was doing, and she had no clue how they could find out about it. Her brother would never, ever, rat her out, but those fucking eyes told her that he, or they, didn't need anyone to find out. To know.

They knew. They just knew.

But no one was supposed to know.   

How in the hell did they know?  

*

Agent Jones’ presence still made her feel like it did back in the interrogation room. It still caused uncomfortable and cold shivers that traced all the way down her spine. Actually, all the agents that were present in the interrogation room still made her feel very uneasy, and- and- 

Scared.   

She crossed her arms and took a moment to study his appearance from head to toe, and then back up. He was still in the same outfit, sunglasses were still on although it was getting late, and his expression... He didn't have one. No emotions came through whatever mask he was wearing, and if nothing else, he just seemed...

Bored...? Angry...?

Fed up?   

She didn’t have an answer.  

*

Perhaps the man was right. There was no use playing stupid and pretending like she was confused anymore. The fat file sitting on the table with her name on it made it very clear. There was no way out of this situation, so she should indeed take her due credit. She no longer had anything to lose. Her sentence would be horrible, and listing out her achievements wouldn't make any difference. At least there would be something that she could maybe be remembered for before she would be thrown into a cell to rot. So...

A small smile appeared on her face, and this time she was the one who allowed the silence to hang in the air. This time, the agent was the one who slightly lifted one brow in a silent question.

She remained silent for longer than the agent had at any point. Her smile was small and forced. Her lips were slightly pressed together, and when she finally spoke, her own tone was taunting and ironic. "I’m far from being the shy one, my dear agent.” Her voice was overly sweet in the only kind of defiance she could put up. She accepted her fate, but she had every right to be very bitter about it. “I actually wanted to say how lavish your suit is from the moment you walked into the cafe. I didn’t have a chance, but now that I do, I have to admit that it looks really, really good on you.” Her smile broadened ever so slightly when a surprised look appeared on the man's face. She didn't think her words would make any impression, but since they had, her eyes lidded in pleasure. “I wish I had the same sense of style as you.” She forced a chuckle. "Imagine me, looking all lush with the fanciest sunglasses in the whole world on." She covered her mouth and chuckled again, this time more genuinely. The thought itself was absurd. 

The agent’s eyes widened in bemusement for a short moment, even if for a second or two, before they turned into slits. “I see that you are finding this very amusing.” The glare he gave her disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Now, he was the one whose lips twitched into a taunting and almost evil smile. “Perhaps not as amusing as I am about to find it.”  

To this, she went serious and blinked a few times. “Pardon me?” She was now experiencing shock, but hers wasn't there only for a short moment. Now, she was truly scared as if she wasn't already so scared to the point she could shit her pants.

* 

“I don’t want to connect it to my laptop.” She said simply. “In fact, I don’t want to connect anything to my laptop at all.” As far as she was concerned, that was the end of discussion. This was her main and only rule she was going to firmly stand by. She was ready to fight anyone who'd try and make her break it - it was a hill she'd die on.

Agent Jones looked at her laptop, and then regarded her for a moment. “You cannot work without it.” He said very simply and it was most probably true. 

Sam took a deep breath. Sighing, she allowed her arms to fall back down. “Fine." She waved her hand dismissively. "I’ll make it work." Maybe she would, and maybe she wouldn't. "Just for you, cutiepie.” She added in a slightly flirty tone just because she could.

She managed to get a reaction or two from her now boss back in the interrogation room, no matter how brief, so she hoped she'd be able to keep getting reactions. Well, it was the only fun she felt like she could have with these expressionless dudes, so why the hell not.

Apparently, she wasn't going to get one from agent Jones, but she'd keep trying. He simply nodded and then went on his way as if she didn't say anything out of ordinary. She followed him with her gaze and watched him walk past a few cubicles all the way to the bottom of the larger office space. He walked in a weird graceful way. His movements were somehow both fluid but rigid at the same time, and the other two seemed to move in a similar or the same way. She couldn't explain the feeling it gave her, but... it was just... weird.

* 

“It is always a pleasure to find one of you." The agent continued in a pleased tone. "We have been searching for you for a long time." Then, all of a sudden, his expression became cold and eerie. “You are done.” He said firmly and then went silent, like he was making sure she understood the heaviness of her situation.  

She kept looking deeply into his cold, blue eyes, and although she felt her cheeks warming up, she kept her overly sweet and confident poisture  

“You have been caught."  The agent concluded in the same cold voice, and then leaned slightly back in his chair.

He watched her closely, and she watched him in the same way. After considering her options, she spoke. “It seems so." She shrugged as if she wasn't phased at all. "You got me.” Her lips curved into a wicked smile, and she theatrically lifted her hands up. “And what now, gentlemen? You tie me up?”  

“There are two possibilities- “ The agent started speaking, but she cut him off.   

“Oh." As theatrically as she lifted her hands, she dropped them into her lap with a small thud. Pouting, she continued. "And here I thought that I was done for, like, all the way.”

The agent simply continued like he didn’t hear her, or see her expression. “You either give us Morpheus, or you get locked up.” 

Her eyes widened in surprise, or at least partially. In less than a second, they turned into slits, and now she was the one glaring. After a few long seconds, she spoke in a low and almost threatening voice. “What makes you think that I know where Morpheus is?”

* 

Sam shook her head. She didn’t want to be where she was, but she had no other option. It was this, or prison. The agents were very clear about it.  

Dammit.    

Her body stiffened in frustration, so she took a moment to calm herself. She steadied her breath while she observed the cubicles around her. There were ten of them, but only six were occupied, including her own. There were four men and one woman, and all of them were enthusiastically and vigorously typing away on loud and annoying mechanical keyboards.   

She sighed in defeat. She had little to no motivation to even move, let alone to actually get to what she was supposed to be doing. She agreed that she would, but she knew she couldn't. Morpheus, amongst so many others, were all a team. A family. Somehow finding and then giving them up meant tearing that family apart. Aside from her brother, that was the only family she ever had, and Morpheus was one of those who she wanted to become when she grew up. No... She couldn't rat out a family member. She couldn't tear hers and so many others' families apart. Giving up one member, especially someone as important as Morpheus, meant that a whole bunch of others would come crashing down too. If Morpheus was found, then most hackers who ever worked with them could and would be found as well. Rating someone out never included only that person, and if she'd give up anyone, especially someone like Morpheus, it would mean that thousand of people and thousand of servers could go down in matter of months. That would be devastating, and there was still honour amongst 'thieves'. She was going to figure out a way to reach Morpheus and warn them of what was going on.

Somehow.

Slowly and almost lazily, she dragged herself across the office toward a very large pin board at the very bottom, just in front of the boss's office, in front of the glass wall that separated her and the man who held a key to her freedom. She scoffed silently and turned towards a map of States. The map was firmly pinned so not to move even an inch, and there were so many cut-outs of seemingly different codes; codes to access different servers, possible codes to access cloud servers which were a fairly new type of servers that not many were aware of, numbers of servers they seemed to have found or were on a good way to do so, and much more. There were differently coloured strings that were connecting one thing to another, and so much more that she was yet to try and understand. All of it was all so neatly and precisely positioned that it could've been done by a robot.

Alongside it, there was a large whiteboard, and it contained a list of names and numbers.  

Apoc, Morpheus, Trinity, Niobe, Roland, Neo.

My name is not on the list - the thought passed through her mind before she was able to stop it, and the reality of it made her sad. As weird as it might've seemed and sounded, she wanted to be on that list, or any list at all. Those on lists were those that were doing big and very important things, great things, and she wanted to be one of them. She wanted to be one of them ever since she entered the world of servers and numbers. She had to remind herself that what she was doing, what all the rest of them were doing was as equally important - more important than so many other things, and that should be enough. It should be enough, but for her, it wasn't. She had big plans, and she wanted to do big things. Great things. Now, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to do as much - not when her whole life was summed up in government's file.

She sighed.   

The agent who interrogated her told her they were looking for her for a long time. As such, she thought it was something all about her, but apparently, she was wrong. Very wrong. No matter how good of a hacker she truly was, of how much impact she truly left, Morpheus and everyone else on the list were always better.

*

The agent didn’t say anything. His gaze remained glued to her eyes, his face remained expressionless. Considering how he knew things that no one should've known, she felt like he already knew what she knew, but that was impossible. What gave him the idea that she knew where Morpheus was? Truly? She knew who Morpheus was as much as Morpheus knew who she was, and the same extended to their locations. Either could be anywhere in the entire world. Still, she didn't point it out because if those men thought she knew, then it was the only card she had in her hand.

Duo kept examining each other, and the more she looked into those icy blue eyes, the more she was reminded of how cold the room was. Seemingly as always, she was the first one to give in and move. She pulled warm sleeves over her hands, and only her fingertips remained visible. Then, she had to hug herself so not to shiver. With both hands firmly placed below her armpits, she shifted slightly in her seat, but she never moved her eyes from his.

Unlike her, the agent didn't seem to mind the cold.

Silence dragged out, and although she was the one to move first, she had no plans of being the one who'd break the silence first too. Still, silence kept dragging out and her question remained unanswered. The duo simply kept watching each other, and the previously unnoticeable ticking of a clock now became very prominent.

Alas, the agent moved. She wanted to exhale in relief, but there was nothing to be relieved about. He lifted his hand ever so slightly and extended his palm in her general direction. “The clock is ticking, miss Marshall.” 

*  

She lowered her head slightly and came closer to the pinboard to better see the codes, and the lines and names they were connecting with. Some thing she saw were extremely imaginative, and some of them were perhaps something she wouldn’t have think of herself, but she felt like she was doing better. With squinted eyes, she moved her attention to one particular cut-out connected to name Neo, a name she wasn't really familiar with. She observed it closely and thoughtfully for a long time, thinking that Neo's thought process was very interesting and actually even unique in its own way, but... 

“What is it?” A male voice came from behind her.  

Without a flinch, she muttered more to herself. “I would’ve done it better.”

For a prolonged moment, she forgot that someone was still there waiting for her attention, but a slight cough drew her attention.

“Sorry.” She managed, turning her head to see a tallish middle-aged man with a bald head and a short red beard.  

He was looking at her with a curious but welcoming smile, and then he offered his hand. “Rodney.” 

“Sam.” She said and accepted it, shaking it firmly.  

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” He said. “Welcome to the Code Analysis Unit.”

She smiled a small smile. “So... how long have you been here?” 

“At CAU?” He lifted his brow. “For six years. Before, I was just a cadet trying to get into FBI, but boss recognised my talent and recruited me." The man's smile widened and he lightly placed his palm over his chest. "I’m forever grateful. Without him, I'm not sure where I'd be today.” 

“Not again, Rod.” A middle-aged man’s head appeared above the top of one of the cubicles. “You need to stop having a crush on him.” 

Sam’s wide eyes found the newcomer’s, and when he saw her expression, he chuckled. “Adam.” He inclined his head. “Nice to have you here, Sam. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

She tilted her head and looked at him suspiciously. “Have you, now?” She lifted her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an explanation. 

“Heard about you is perhaps a wrong choice of words.” Now, a woman's voice appeared and Sam turned to see a young woman with short black hair smiling at her. “We’re the ones who have been collecting information on you for a while now.” She said and Sam’s eyebrows rose even higher. “Sorry.” The woman added and shrugged.

*

Fine. She was going to play his game. If he was going to be a mysterious asshole, she could push his buttons. No matter how anxious and scared she was, these men seemed to be hundred percent sure about knowing who she was and what she knew, and that was another card she could add to her hand.

A very important card.

In fact, she could tell them the truth and they'd not believe her.

Oh, the irony.

She sighed and lifted her hand to rub her face, as if she was now the one who had enough dealing with men like him. “I don’t know who Morpheus is.” 

“Do you want to go to prison then, miss Marshall?” He asked in a cold voice. “We have more than enough to lock you away for a long, long time." Slightly lifting his shoulders into a small shrug, he continued. "After all, you are an enemy of the government."  

“Of course I don't want to go to prison.” She scoffed. "I've heard that food there is even worse than in hospitals, so who'd want that, my dear agent?"  

“Then it is an easy choice for you." The agent spoke quickly and matter-of-factually. "All you need to do is to give us Morpheus, and you can walk away from this as if nothing ever happened.”

For a moment, she eyed him, paying attention to every crease, twitch or movement on his face, and for once, she saw something in his eyes. Perhaps hope? Excitement? She couldn't say for sure, but she thought she might be on the right track.

She'd agree. She'd agree, but what she was to do was a different thing.

“Says you.” She huffed. “An easy choice..." She shook her head in mild disbelief. "My dear Agent, I don’t have Morpheus, but, perhaps...” She leisurely leaned back in her chair, pretending to be thinking about something.

And there it was again - a kind of a flash in icy blue, but a kind that she had no name for.

The agent tilted his head and watched her closely, curiously. He was demanding a very specific thing, and he had already decided outcomes for either possible answers, but her answer wasn't yes - it wasn't no either. At least he was willing to entertain what she had to say, so that was something.  

“Perhaps... I could help you find them.” Now, she lifted a hand and motioned in his general direction. "I found Morpheus before. I could possibly find them again."

The agent smiled. The smile was one of satisfaction, and it seemed genuine - very genuine - but his eyes remained their icy, cold, blue and empty selves. Fucking creepy.

*

“Well... I don't know why I'm surprised to hear that.” Sam managed and then took a deep breath. Exhaling, she allowed her body to relax. “I’m Sam, by the way.” 

“Olivia.” The woman introduced herself. “You’ll be a great asset to our team. We've seen how much you can do. It’s most intriguing.”

“Yeah!" Adam was quick to join in. "How you managed to get into FBI's redacted files is beyond me.” He nervously pushed his fingers through his brown curls. “Boss says you’re a dangerous one, and I guess I see his point.” 

Well, that was an uncomfortable topic. She felt her cheeks warming up, and she opened her mouth to speak, but Rodney cut her off. “Yes, you and Morpheus were a devilish combination.” 

Sam took a breath, and with her mouth still remaining open so she could speak, she was cut off yet again. “Guys, go back to work. You know that boss doesn’t like chit-chattering.” She turned towards the direction of another new male voice, but no face appeared above the cubicle.

Rodney, Adam and Olivia looked at each other, then at her, and then they all shrugged in unison, leaving Sam glancing at all of them confusedly.

“Come, then.” Olivia told her. “I’ll show you what we’re doing here.” 

Sam glanced at Adam and Rodney once more as they made their way back to their cubicles, and then at the glass wall that separated the asshole who got her into this situation from the rest of them. The blinds were closed, which wasn't surprising, but they were old, and as a result certain areas were somewhat see-through. The last thing she wanted to do was to linger there, but the sun was setting and she was able to see silhouettes of both agent Jones and agent Brown standing in the middle of the room. Boss was further in, seemingly watching the sunset through the window which was basically another glass wall.

*

Yes. The lack of expressed emotions gave her creeps. She just couldn't grasp it. The agent indeed showed a few facial expressions, but his eyes remained just cold, empty and dark - dark despite their piercing blue colour. She got a small glimpse of something in there, but that was it. Perhaps it came with their training? That ability to hide themselves? Their personal emotions? To be able to distance themselves from everything? They must be seeing a lot of fucked up things, so maybe that was an answer she was looking for. 

“That is what we like to hear, miss Marshall.” The agent's pleased smile still remained on. “If you deliver, we will deliver.” 

Well, that was a bit of an issue. She had no intentions of delivering, not in the way they wanted her to. She'd notify Morpheus or someone else who could notify them of what was going on, or if she would somehow end up with an opportunity to run for it, which wasn't a good idea for obvious reasons, she might run for it. She doubted her abilities of being a runaway though, and was sure that the agents would find her sooner rather than later, so that was barely an option at all.

With all of that rushing through her mind, she spoke before she was able to stop herself. "And if I don’t?”

The agent's expression turned to that one of slight bemusement and it made her feel stupid. He already made it perfectly clear, and she was well aware of the consequences.

“Then it is a prison for you." The agent said slowly. "Simple, I would dare to say.”

She sighed and rubbed her face again. "Yeah, sure..." She lifted her head to look at him again. "Let’s call it simple, my dearest agent.” Simple. Right. “I’ll need it in writing, though.”  

“Of course.”

With a smooth motion, the agent opened her file and started to slowly flip papers, one by one. Sam watched him. Her gaze flickered from the paper to the way he generally read through it, and then back to the next paper as he picked it up. She was very, very uncomfortable. The further he went into the file, the more she chewed on her lower lip and the more she fidgeted. It was fucking agonising, each next paper and each next second, and she fucking hated him for doing that. He was obviously making sure to keep her very aware of how much dirt they had on her, and it was only when he reached the last paper that he placed it down on the table and slowly slid it towards her.

She exhaled shakily. She felt lucky that her hands were hidden within her sleeves. They were shaking almost uncontrollably, but it wasn't visible. She took a deep breath and pulled the paper closer to herself. As she leaned over it to start reading, she spoke up just to break that fucking silence that was only disturbed by the sounds of papers. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“These are agents Jones and Brown." With a slow movement of his head, he indicated at men that stood behind her. "I am agent Smith.”

* 

“Sam?”

Sam flinched. She was pulled out of her thoughts as quickly as she fell into them, and it startled her. "Sorry." She mumbled and started walking to join Olivia who was already standing in front of her cubicle. 

Walking in after her, her attention was drawn to the way Olivia had her gear set up. “We’re all collecting data on the aliases you saw on the whiteboard." Olivia started explaining. "Each one of us is searching for one of them, and all of us are searching for Morpheus." Seeing Olivia lifting her head with the corner of her eye, she moved to face her to at least appear like she was paying attention. She put on a forced smile, and she actually wanted to start paying attention, but her mind kept wandering off to that interrogation room and the way she made important connections through hard work. "You’re our Morpheus' lead now, so you’ll be working on that and that only." Sam nodded and found out that she was feeling a little dizzy, if not nauseous, "I'll help you set up, show you around so you know where you can grab a coffee or something to eat during your break. I'll show you the servers and software we use, show you where's what on the interface and how we collect, import, analyse and document the data, and-"

"Thank you." Sam had to cut her off. Yes, she wasn't feeling the best. "Thank you, Olivia, but I'm sure I can figure servers and software out by myself." She waved her hand. "I think it's better that I learn as I go rather than I get overwhelmed with information."

"Oh." Olivia said. "Of course." She nodded. "That makes sense."

"I do thank you." Sam offered again, trying her best to reassure her new colleague - of sorts. "If I'll need help with anything, I'll find you, okay?"

"Of course, Sam." Olivia smiled. "I'm here if you need anything." Her smile widened. "Even if just to help you to set up that printer." She giggled.

Sam had to smile at that. "Ah, then you heard all about how Jones already doesn't like the way I do my business." She chuckled too, which Olivia followed with another giggle of her own.

Sam already knew that she wasn’t going to be printing shit. If they really needed paperwork, then the assholes could print stuff themselves from the server. Besides, playing stupid would buy her some time - and certainly bring her at least a small amount of twisted satisfaction. She wasn't going to make this easy for them, so... Well, while they dealt with her, she was going to deal with figuring what she'd do while continuing to do what she knew how to do the best – hacking. 

“Okay then." Olivia concluded. "I’ll email you some files and documents you'll need, and that's that."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Email me where?"

Olivia tilted her head and considered her for a moment. "You have your login info, don’t you?”

Ah. “No." She shook her head, feeling silly. "Actually, I don’t.” 

Olivia's expression wasn't really that one of - fine, we'll sort it out - but rather something more of - oh shit. It wasn't reassuring. "You ought to go and ask mister Smith to give you all that." She looked at her urgently. "You better do it straight away. He won’t be pleased that you’re here for some hours now and aren't doing what you came here to do.”

Sam blinked a few times and looked towards Smith's office. "Right." Olivia gave her a sympathetic look. "I'll go do that, then." She trailed off for a moment. Her gaze was lingering on what little she could see as if she was unable to look away. "What’s up with him anyway?” She suddenly spoke, and then looked questioningly back at Olivia. "Does he have a stick up his ass?"

CAU was a secret government organisation, and her boss alongside the other two were special agents - the best of in all States. Olivia’s expression told her that perhaps she shouldn’t be saying such things, but in all honesty, she didn’t care.  

There was little that could ruin her day beyond how ruined it already was. All she wanted to do was to make the world a little bit of a better place for those in need. The government disgusted her. All the politicians, greedy, lying bastards... The world had too much of that. She just wanted to bring some balance and show good people that things weren't and didn't have to be as bad as they were.   

Olivia cleared her throat nervously. “What do you mean?” 

Sam knew she was supposed to say – never mind – or something among those lines, but she just wouldn’t. Despite her distaste for government officials, and despite her distaste for the man, she wanted to learn more about him. So far, he was simply an asshole. Perhaps she could try and understand him a bit better before she drew her conclusions. He was still just a man, right?  

“What I asked. Sup' with him?" She jerked her head towards Smith's office. "Why is he so... so...” Sam's brows furrowed again. She realised that she lacked a word to use. Not a word to use to better explain what she meant, but a word overall. 

Olivia remained silent for a few moments, and when Sam's gaze trailed off towards Smith's office again, she cleared her throat. "Look, we need to get to work now, but we always go out for drinks afterwards. We'd love you to join us so we can get to know each other more properly. What do you say?" Olivia's eyebrows raised expectantly. 

Sam nodded her head. “Sure. And thanks. I’ll go and get the login info then.”

* 

“Smith." She repeated. "So, Smith." Her eyes trailed the written words on the document. "Smithy. May I call you Smithy?” She looked up. "I like Smithy." She could swear that the man was just about at the point where he'd roll his eyes, but she was actually looking up because she was done reading. She eyed him for a moment, but before he could speak, she jerked her head in his direction. “Would you be a good sport and fetch me a pen so that I can sign this?”  

She had barely said it, and Smith was already placing a silver pen next to her. It seemed to be made just out of one piece and it was perfectly shaped, to the point it made her think it would have a magical texture. And bless him, that pen felt better in her hand than any other pen she had seen in her life. It was ridiculous. She never truly noticed a pen, but here she was.

She was going to steal it. 

She had to steal it.

"Uhh..." She twisted her eyebrows in disappointment as she looked from the pen back to him.

He blinked twice at her. "What?"

"Nothing." She returned quickly and looked back down at the agreement. "I just hoped you'd have to go and fetch one."

She fiddled with that pen and gave it a moment.

"... Why?"

Her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. Maybe she was starting to figure out how to get Smithy talking more, and perhaps getting him confused.

She glanced up at him through her eyelashes. With a shrug, she explained. “Cause I wanted to see your butt.” She grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes.  

There. If nothing else, she could make them suffer in one way or another just for making her suffer through this too. Tit for tat. It was a simple life rule that she had lived by for the majority of her life.   

Agent Smith was not amused.

*

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She hated the prospect of having to see mister asshole again that day, but she simply had to. As such, and after gathering some bravery, she straightened up and crossed the grey office's carpet with a growing feeling of defiance. That feeling always made her feel braver, which made her feel more defiant, which made her feel braver, so by the time she was standing in front of the glass door, she was wearing a smile. She'd keep annoying him, yes. And why? Well, that was simple. She'd keep doing it just because she could.

The door had dark oak frame, and the silver plate was neatly engraved - Special Agent Mr. Smith. She knocked just below it, and in an instant, an already familiar leveled voice came through.

"Come in."

She walked into the room with a big, sweet smile on her face and instantly looked at Jones and Brown who turned their heads in unison to meet her. Glancing at their boss in the perfect unison again, they turned on their heels and left. Her smile faded a little while she watched them, slightly turning to see them leave. It was weird. Very weird. She'd maybe think that they were twins if she already knew that they weren't. With a sigh, she turned to look at Smith who was still standing at the other side of the office facing the last of the sunset. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he seemed to be somewhere deep in thought. Her head tilted so she could examine him more closely, but she barely had a second or two to do so before the man turned on his heels too.

"Miss Marshal." Smith spoke and inclined his head slightly.

She thought someone could mistake him for a gentleman, but whatever. She returned no such show of respect, no matter how small, and instead mutely watched him fixing his tie in the exact same manner he had back in the interrogation room. His hands expertly pulled and moved the node, and his teeth were slightly grit when he moved his head slightly to the side to allow the tie to sit more comfortably around his neck. She assumed he stared straight into her eyes again, but with those sunglasses being on again...

"Bossman." She said, and that sweet smile renewed on her face.

While Smith started crossing his office towards the desk, and despite her wanting to leave his presence as soon as possible, her attention turned to the rest of it. Apart from the dark brown oak desk, a few files neatly placed on it, some seemingly new file cabinets and a couple of dark brown armchairs, the room was basically empty. There was a single tallish plant in a corner, but she doubted that Smith cared for it. It didn't feel like his style. There was just... nothing. She wasn't sure why it surprised her, but it did. 

She cupped her hands behind her back, and she slowly lifted herself to the tips of her toes and then rolled back to the ball of her heels, humming while meticulously examining each corner of his office. By then, since there was basically nothing to look at, she was supposed to already be done with it, but she kept glancing from a thing to a thing, looking everywhere but at Smith, and she was going to keep doing it as long as she had to.

It wasn't long until she heard a sigh, but she didn't turn to look at the man until he spoke. "... What?"

Her smile widened ever so slightly, and when she looked up at him, her expression was confused for a moment, as if she forgot he was there. As if. "Oh." She dropped her hands by her sides and shook her head quickly, as if she was caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing. "Nothing." Her answer was urgent, and she had to hold her breath for less than a second to be able to cut Smith off as soon as he just seemed as if he was going to speak. "It's just..." She sighed. "Just aww..." She continued sadly. "Your office is just so bland. It looks worse than -" She stopped herself when she saw his expression, but her mouth remained open. Smith was not amused. "Well." She shrugged. "I suppose it suits you. You and your expensive, all important like suit, working in your big, super boring, empty office..."

He quirked his eyebrow, and it made her feel better. Yes, reactions. Those made her feel better, and she thought it was because he was showing at least a little bit of some kind of emotion which made him feel less... scary.

"I mean, did you look around recently?" She asked him in a confrontational manner, but with a still wide smile. She found it ridiculous. "Or..." Now, she had to cover her mouth to try and muffle her giggle. "Or are those sunglasses preventing you from seeing?"

“Miss Marshall.” Agent Smith said calmly but firmly, slowly removing his sunglasses in the same manner as before. “What can I do for you?” 

She shrugged. “You could add some life to this place for a start.” Glancing around his office again, she crossed her arms and leaned on one hip.

Agent Smith remained silent.  

“I mean, I guess it suits your eyes too." She continued without looking at him. "All empty, and cold, and..." She sighed, still as if feeling sad for him. As if she pitied him. "Lifeless.” Oops. That last word slipped her before she could think better of it. It was true, but she shouldn't have said that. She should not have said that. Saying it made her bite her tongue fast, and flinch in preparation to pay for her behaviour, turning fast to look at him. She felt like a deer caught in headlights.

Shit! What the hell is wrong with you?   

Smith took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I am aware of your distaste for government officials, miss Marshall.” Still, he remained calm and seemingly unphased, but his following words proved that he wasn't so unphased. “However, none of what you have done now is not professional.” 

Sam considered him for a moment. Well, since she had already gone this far... “Professional, you say?" She raised her eyebrows in slight bemusement of her own. "You’re aware that I’m not a professional, right?" She let the silence hang for a moment, and then she shrugged, motioning at him with her hand. "At least not in your sort term.” 

Agent Smith watched her, and then sighed. “What do you need?” 

“Oh.” she uncrossed her arms, now actually remembering why she was there in the first place. “I need the login info. I can’t start working without it.”

With a slight nod, the man looked down at his desk and pulled out a single piece of paper from the lot like he knew exactly where it was. This time, there was no slowly flipping through any files.

She expected him to hand the paper to her over his desk and she already started raising her hand, but instead, Smith slowly started making his way around his desk, which made her feel uncomfortable. She had to fight every single fiber of her being not to take a step back and away from him, but her expression was betraying her.

“You may get to work, Miss Marshall.”

She glanced at the paper and then back at him, lifting both of her hands to indicate that she wasn't done. “Wait" She said. “I was thinking...”

Her head automatically turned so she could look away from him. She felt her cheeks slowly growing warm. She was feeling silly, because how could she say what she needed to tell him. Silence fell while she crossed her arms again and looked down at her shoes. She bit at her lower lip while she slightly raised onto her toes and then rolled back.

Silence started dragging out, and she felt sillier with each passing moment. Sadly, each passing moment only made her feel sillier and sillier, which made it harder to break the vicious cycle and speak up.

"Yes, miss Marshall?"

“It’s Sam.” She said quietly. She disliked when people called her by her surname. It always made her feel like she was being generalised rather than that she was seen like her own individual, like the person she was. Now, she wasn't sure if she was grateful that Smith broke silence before too much time passed, or if it only made her feel worse. She sighed and lifted her head to face him. At least the paper was no longer straight in front of her face. "There's only one way I can get Morpheus' attention.

Agent Smith blinked. “I’m listening.” 

She took a deep breath. “I need to do a serious set up that will be a great risk for you guys since it needs to be based on breaching a firewall of something pretty important to get Morpheus interested enough to appear." She raised her shoulders and they remained stiffly lifted. "Doing so will mean that someone will manage to actually do it, in one way or another." She took another deep breath and ignored the fact that she was now most definitely blushing. There was something about those damned eyes, the way she felt like he could see her to her very core. "Basically, what I need to do means that our dear government will be exposed on one level or another, depending what I end up figuring out."

She uncrossed her arms. Looking down at her shoes again, she gripped at the sides of her trousers so hard that her knuckles went white. She felt like only a maniac would suggest to a government official that he needs to allow a criminal to be, well, a criminal who's to set up a serious breach to catch another criminal. She dreaded what Smith would say, and in truth, at this point she feared for her life.

She was met with silence, but she was so nervous that she had to bite on her lower lip and look at those icy blue eyes below her eyelashes. There wasn't a single emotion on the man's face, and it only made her more anxious.

Alas, Smith spoke. "I know."

* 

Placing the top of the pen on the empty space above a line, she asked. “I sign here, right?”

“Yes.” Agent Smith said patiently.    

For a moment, she hesitated. By this point, she could no longer chew on her lower lip because it became sore. She didn't really have any other choice but to sign the agreement. The absolute worse case scenario, it was Morpheus or her. Her gaze flickered to the man's and she decided there was no point in prolonging anything any longer. With a shaky hand, she scribbled her signature and a date, passing the paper and the pen to agent Smith after.   

“It’s your turn, Smithy.” She said with a sigh, but she watched him defiantly. 

Smith ignored the way she adressed him and simply took the pen, quickly signing the deal himself. “Welcome aboard, miss Marshall.” He placed the pen down and lifted his eyes back to hers. “Welcome to CAU.” 

“Great.” She said sarcastically. “I feel honored. When do I start.”   

“Right at this moment, miss Marshall. Right now."  

Sam’s mouth parted in surprise, but she was quick to close it. “Really? Just like that?”

"Yes. Really. Just like that." 

*

"I-" She was surprised by the answer. She expected either - okay - or -are you mad - and definitely not - I know. She cleared her throat. "I'll need help."

“Of course." Smith nodded. "We will help you, miss Marshall.”.  

“It’s Sam.” She repeated quietly, still feeling surprised, and then continued. “And thank you, I guess?" 

“For now, you will go over the data that your colleagues have sent you. We will speak more on this matter tomorrow. I need you to take this paper and get going, miss Marshall. I have work to tend to myself.” He lifted the paper and it was in front of her face once more. 

Sam sighed and accepted it. Not wanting to prolong anything any longer, she turned on her heels and went for the door. Grabbing the doorknob gave her a pause. She turned her head and looked at the man curiously. "What's your name, Smith?" He never told her. She already asked him, but all she got was a surname.

With a file in his hand, Smith lifted his head. “It is Agent Smith or Mr. Smith for you, miss Marshall.” His answer was simple, and she had no strength to argue with him. Shrugging her shoulders as if she didn't care, she walked out.

As soon as the door closed behind her, she had to stop right there and try and gather herself. She had no clue what to think of what just happened, and she had felt awkward for long than enough. It was time to plug in, she supposed, and she found herself sitting on a very uncomfortable chair sooner than she wanted. 

She wasn't sure for how long, but she found that she was blankly staring at her laptop. Stretching her back and cracking her fingers, she readied herself. Fucking hell. Here I go.   

She allowed her head to fall back and sighed. Obviously trying not to start doing this, the greatest thing she'd have to figure out how to do in her life, she straightened up and looked at her cactus.

“I know sweetie. I know." She said after a moment, examining it. "You’ll get some water in a few days. Today is too soon." 

With that, she opened her laptop and grabbed her phone, making sure to have everything set up and all security apps activated and improved before she'd plug in. She'd not allow CAU to get through her firewall ever again. Still, although she was doing something very important for herself, making sure that all of her codes were bug free and working well, her attention was constantly drawn to the printer that still sat on the floor. She wasn't focusing on starting her 'job' just yet, but there she was, thinking about what Jones told her and what she was thinking as a result of his words. Despite it, she knew she'd have to get that printer going, but she had no idea how to connect such an ancient piece of technology to something as innovative as her laptop. The printer was probably ancient so that no one could access the data printed off of it, so... She turned her attention back to her fourth firewall, sighing loudly.

Why, oh why I didn’t get her to fix me the printer?