* * *
Agent Smith strode across the dark room, stopping in front of the struggling Special Agent Rahne. He made a show of looking her over, noting the mussed black hair, blazing green eyes, and tightly clenched fists. She was cursing quietly, but a brain-rattling shake from Agent Jones silenced her.
He supposed that by human standards, she was quite beautiful. He could see why the rebel had fallen for her. Why she had fallen for the rebel was not so clear.
It no longer mattered, however, and after this one final task, neither would she.
He slipped a hand inside her jacket and gently removed her gun. He rubbed his thumb down the grip, aware of the shiver running up the representation of her spine.
Turning, he swiftly strode over to rebel that Agent Brown had forced into a kneeling position.
Deliberately slowly, he levelled the gun to aim between the rebel's fearful brown eyes. "Do you know what an Agent's gun actually is?" Confusion entered the rebel's eyes. Apparently, Special Agent Rahne had not given away very many secrets. "It is an extension of our very code. Do you know what that means?" He ignored the communication Agent Brown was trying to open with him. "That means that if Special Agent Rahne does not want you to die, then her gun will not fire."
The rebel was no longer looking fearful. He actually seemed to believe that Special Agent Rahne did not want him to die. The fool.
Agent Smith pulled the trigger.
* * *
Agent Brown shuddered.
It had been a week since Special Agent Rahne had been placed within permanent shutdown. Yet her body remained on the desk, breathing deeply in a parody of sleep.
"Will the Mainframe allow her form to release soon?" he asked quietly.
Agent Jones ignored him and set down the manifestation of the monitor programs.
Agent Brown gathered up the gray wires and began the delicate task of plugging the Special Agent into it. Wires were attached to her head, while threads of code were interwoven with her own. Two long needles slipped into her wrists, while diagnostics were attached to her program.
Carefully, carefully, so as not to alert the monitor program, he slipped his own sensors into the dense green strands of her code. He needed to know why she had done what she had. Why she had given herself to that rebel.
Data flooded his system. Knowledge of humans and their customs, observations on fellow Agents, images of colorful sunsets, the notes of a trilling bird-song, and opinions about anything and everything under the artificial sun.
He reeled under the onslaught until the limiters kicked in and stopped the flow.
Agent Brown ignored the feel of carpet against his face, and patiently searched through the mass of data. Not a single real-time memory file.
He frowned and modified his sensors, before removing the limiting blocks. Data flooded into him.
* * *
The newly created Special Agent Rahne sipped her coffee and regarded the Agent across from her. A steady stream of information flowed through her head; the smell of coffee, the quiet conversations going on, the schedules written on planners, and the changing amount of money in the cash register was only a small amount of it.
"Why do you act so human?" Agent Brown asked her.
She reviewed the adjectives that could be used to describe his dark brown eyes. "It relaxes humans to be around people that seem like them, and a relaxed human imparts more information."
He nodded. As a Strategic Unit, he surely understood how the desire for information could change an Agent. "Must you drink a concoction that... aromatic?"
She set the coffee down on the table thoughtfully. "Actually, the smell is the only reason I drink coffee."
He blinked behind his dark sunglasses.
* * *
Special Agent Rahne examined the woman in front of her with interest. Obviously, this woman was full of information. You could tell just be looking at her pierced nose and dyed hair. If that wasn't enough, the female Special Agent's sensors informed her that the woman had several other piercings and a tattoo. This woman must have all kinds of information stashed away in her head.
Unfortunately, she was simply to extract information about the meeting the rebels had arranged with this contact.
"Ms. Yale," she began, ignoring the woman's sneer. "We need your help to capture these terrorists. We cannot just hope to stumble across them. With the information you provide, we can-"
"Who's this 'we'? I only see one of you in here." Ms. Yale interrupted rudely. The sneer was still plastered across her face, and Special Agent Rahne noted the closed body-language with a sinking feeling.
"Ms. Yale, do you want Agent Brown or Agent Smith to conduct this interrogation? I assure you that they are both fully capable of doing so. I, however, believe that you would find such an arrangement... most unpleasant." She adjusted her voice modulator to produce a tone that humans described as 'frosty.'
The other woman raised an eyebrow. "You can't touch me. I've got the law on my side... for once," she finished with a smirk.
Special Agent Rahne felt a smile of her own was appropriate. It was small, cold, and slightly patronizing. "We're the government, Ms. Yale. We can do whatever we damn well please. However, if that is the stance you want to take...." She flipped through Ms. Yale's file to the papers on her family. "You have committed a great many information crimes. In fact, if you were ever brought to trial, the minimum amount of fines you would have to pay would bankrupt you. Even if you somehow manage to avoid such a fate, the courts would most likely turn your daughter Lily "Switch" Yale over to her father or the state. Do you really want that?"
"Give me my phone-call," Ms. Yale demanded harshly. Special Agent Rahne's sensors showed the tightly clenched fists that her eyes could not see and the grinding teeth that her ears could not hear.
She raised an eyebrow. No wonder Agent Smith disliked conducting interrogations. "Ms. Yale, if you provide us with the information we're asking for, we will have no reason to have you brought to court."
Ms. Yale leaned back. "You're threatening me."
"Perhaps, Ms. Yale."
* * *
Special Agent Rahne slipped into the shadows near the door of the nightclub and analyzed the clothing worn by the other club-goers. A few minutes later, she stood there wearing a short, black skirt and tight, stomach-revealing, white top. Tall boots and fishnet stockings caressed her legs, while her black hair tumbled down her back.
She frowned. The loud music and flashing lights was disrupting her sensors. However, Ms. Yale had been kind enough to provide a description of the man she usually met with.
A scan with Agent-enhanced eyes spotted him sitting away from the dance floor. She strode towards him, mildly amused by the hungry glances being sent her way.
"Having fun?" She asked from behind him.
She was rewarded to see the dark-haired man jump. He looked at her, then looked her over with an unusual gleam in his eye, before shaking his head. "Sorry, miss, but I'm waiting for someone."
She slipped into the chair next to him. "I know."
Confusion spread across his face. "I don't think I know you."
She set her sunglasses on the table. "You may call me Special Agent Rahne."
Confusion changed to fear in the blink of an eye and desperation tinged the fear. The phermones the Matrix said he was giving off tickled her sensors. He was going to bolt soon, she decided, and readied the signal program. Agents Jones and Smith would deal with this one easily enough.
He acted in an unorthodox manner. He leaned over and kissed her.
Shock raced through her program. Her analysis programs informed her that as far as kisses were concerned, this one wasn't half-bad. New neural pathways opened up inside her as the concept of physical pleasure was truly introduced to the Special Agent.
He pulled away from her abrubtly, muttered a quick "Call me Raptor", and bolted.
She sat there in a daze and didn't remember to send the signal the other Agents until well after Raptor had gotten out.
* * *
Special Agent Rahne disengaged herself from the web of data that the humans called the Internet. She had added a great deal of information on human sexuality to her library. She would have to spend some time in shutdown to fully integrate it with her system.
She adjusted her position in the chair, slipped into the soundless blackness of shutdown, and dreamed....
* * *
The feel of her gun in someone telse's hands was almost disturbing. Then, Agent Brcwn slipped the oily cloth down her barrel and she nearly screamed.
So good. So good. So good.
His fingers caressed her trigger and nearly set her off. A shiver ran down her spine as he rubbed her grip.
She reached over and grasped his gun, determined to show him some of the pleasure he had given her.
In her state, she wasn't even surprised when Agent Brown turned into the rebel who kissed her.
* * *
Special Agent Rahne snapped out of the shutdown with a gasp. What was that?!
An alert pounded through her head, disrupting her thoughts. The rebels were raiding the data-banks!
She phased into a new body. Sensors alerted her to the rebel running towards her nanoseconds before he rounded the corner and plowed into her.
They landed with her on the bottom.
"Aw, shit," he said, his face a sickly green color. "Not you again." Large hands pressed down on her as he scrambled to get up.
Special Agent Rahne slipped her arms around him and crushed his body to her own. Her lips sought his and she kissed him. It was a very good kiss.
He pulled away, eyes wide in panic. "Uhh..."
"Silly rebel."
* * *
Agent Brown was pulled out of the memory files abrubtly. He lay on the floor, attempting to reconcile laying on the ground in a dark alley and laying on the floor in a bright office. He adjusted his internal clock to match the current time within the Matrix: 5:39 p.m., May 21, 1992.
Agent Smith knelt down next to him. "Do not delve into these matters, Agent Brown. Agents should not love."
The End
A/N: If you're wondering who Special Agent Rahne is, she's mentioned in my other story "Twilight and Darkness" and she appears in "The Gray and the Black."
This story takes place three years before the events of "Another Lifetime."