Title: AU: See Your Enemy

Author: MTS

Rating: R for sex, language, situation, cuz I want it to be an R rated fic. La.

Summary: What if Trinity recognized Smith's possession of Bane?

Horrendously long author's note: I'm addicted to the Bane/Smith vs. Trinity scene in Revs. Larry and Andy must have sat down and decided to write a scene where a character would spout out the key focus of my senior thesis on the goddess of all action heroines.

But I want to add another element into the scene. What if Trinity recognizes Smith in Bane? The alpha version of this fic did well on the Hardline, so I expanded and then my beloved Centaur gave me the most amazing plot bunny to up-the-ante in the eroticism in this scene. Kinky.



I own thousands of thanks to Danascully for support and giggles, Centaur for her great opinions and amazing ability of giving me hope that my work is good, and the great Kris/Kirstma for giving me inspiration for backstory bits. I must also thank my dear masochistic RL friend who I blackmailed into editing it. For the record, he hated the story. *hl* Another big shout out to Zephyr for support and more giggles; and to my darling Skadoobie for supporting the fact that I was writing fiction, albeit not a Neville fic like he wanted. La.



And a huge HUGE thanks for Ian Bliss and Carrie-Anne Moss for playing so well in such a badass scene. If only they could have done it this way. . .



Two Stargate references are in this fic. Huge kudos for you if you catch them.



By the way, in my little world, Trinity is 32, not 27. The Enter the Matrix guide can kiss my butt. She's in her thirties.

(Endorsed by The Construct www.constructfic.org)

***

What?

It took mere seconds. Cool metal edged into her neck as an arm pulled her in, vicious and tight, helpless, into his body. The mech light fell from her hand, clattering on the floor. 'Trixside, she could have easily flipped her assailant over and kicked him fiercely in the face in the next few seconds, but her weak real world muscles tensed with fear, not allowing her mind to focus them into action. No. No. No. Her mind screamed, deafening her reason. Cypher's face stared at her from her mind's eye, a twinge of a smile on his face. Echoing in her ear, "You're a beautiful woman, Trinity." She had never felt the burden of being a female more strongly than at this moment. She was trapped. She couldn't move, her old fears suffocating her. She would die, a victim in the real world. She had faced death before. But not like this.

A familiar voice crooned into her ear. "I should've known he'd send the bitch first." His contempt for her burned out on his breath. The voice resounding in her memory, her mind searched for a match. Cypher's face disappeared and she saw another all too familiar face. Her skin tingled as the shock radiated through her body. "Bane?!" No, not Bane. Never Bane. Not sweet, deluded Bane who laughed at Spark's jokes, flirted with Switch whenever he got the chance (especially in front of Apoc) and was constantly being beaten by Ghost at chess. Trinity had always liked Bane. He was funny, he was a brilliant hacker, he was a charming gentleman to the ladies. Jue teased him that he was too smart to be on Ballard's crew. Bane would sardonically smile and shrug. Cypher hated him with a passion.

Life was different a decade ago. Rewind past ten years of brutal bloodshed, unplugging and deaths beyond counting. Trinity was twenty-two, Bane was twenty-seven. Ghost had just transferred to the Logos and the dubious word on the street was that Maggie and Ballard were expecting a child. No one believed it but they were sure to pass the word along. Morpheus was having nightmares about Niobe and the Oracle had told Trinity the year before just how her fate was intertwined with the One's. The Caduceus and the Neb were docked in Zion for a recharge. The last human city was strangely quiet. While their captains attended a dinner with the council, the two crews found solace in each other and as much Zion liquor they could stomach. Tension was high, the machines were discovering new ways to thwart their missions. Each of them was feeling their mortality burning into their hearts. Trinity couldn't think of a time that her fellow soldiers were so . . . hungrily physical. Switch had kissed her swiftly before sweeping Apoc off to their apartment, laughing uncharacteristically as she went. She had sat in Tank's lap playing cards with Malachi and Dozer until Zee came and hauled her brothers off to see Cass, Dozer's eyes twinkling. Cypher was no where to be found (they found him later in his room with a pile of new books for the Neb's illegal collection, his sleeping face next to The Reality Dysfunction.)

Trinity, Bane and Malachi stared at each other, their tired faces laughing despite themselves. Eventually, Malachi left, making Trinity think it was a set up, not mere coincidence. For some reason, she didn't mind. Bane smiled his sardonic little smile. "So now it's just you and me, girl. At least for the moment." Trinity licked the rim of her glass and swallowed the rest of the clear liquid. "Ever want to fuck with fate?" she murmured, reaching for his face. "Not exactly what I had in mind" he murmured back, letting her in, closer to his slightly sweating face. Trinity was becoming an icon in the resistance. No one could escape an agent like she could. And she was one inch from his lips. Her hand grabbed his and pulled it towards her shirt. "How about you just fuck me?" He couldn't help himself as his hand immediately pushed up her shirt, reaching for the softness of her hidden skin. "Again, not exactly what I had in mind," his voice wavered, his desire for her fighting against his need to remain a gentleman and a flirt. "Does it look like I care?" she said as her mouth brushed against his, tantalizing. With his other hand, he pulled her in closer deepening the kiss. The kiss was dangerous and promised more than either could give. But they didn't care.

They stumbled to his apartment and didn't make it to the bed, uninhibited passion and the remnants of the alcohol intermingling in their veins. His mouth on her neck, her arms gripping him tighter, she knew this was the only time they'd stand to do this, so they better make it good. She climaxed twice, seeing green the first time and blue the next. His eyes closed shut in his ecstasy, disbelieving that sex could be this mind- shattering. They moved to the bed. In the morning, she awoke to his mouth kissing her stomach and she didn't have the heart or, honestly, the desire to stop him. This time, her climax was in code and she saw a pair of ghostly brown eyes and the words of the Oracle echoing in her ringing ears. Fuck with fate. Silent, blissful and confused, they held each other, bonded so briefly, two people in need of the release, in need of irrationality. This was important. And one of those moments in Zion to savor for a day or two and then forget. Bane never approached her again nor she him. Greetings were a nod, an occasional wink. They fought together briefly side by side in the matrix years later, and both chuckled a bit as they were forced back to back, firing at a handful of coppertops. And then, they hardly saw each other.

But now he was holding her at knife's point in the engineering room of the Logos, his tone violent and his body language alien to her. It was Bane and yet, something was off. He filled his lungs, the air pushing against the small of Trinity's back, and then he let it out slowly. The knife edged slightly deeper into her neck, cutting her. "No one ever got away from me as many times as you did." Bane pressed himself closer to her, punctuating each word, his body strangely cold. "Every single time I thought it was the last." She blinked. There was something severely wrong. Her mind raced, calculating. "Every time I was sure we had you, but somehow you'd slip through our fingers." It wasn't Bane. It just couldn't be him. It wasn't that she recognized Bane's voice. "I really can't express just how. . ." He paused, reminding her of- ". . .aggravating that can be." Her breath stopped in her mouth. oh god.

The realization hit her so hard, it knocked the wind out of her. That voice, the attitude, the ferocity of almost unbridled power. He, her ultimate nightmare, was here. On the Logos. Possessing the body of Bane. (Sweet, deluded Bane.) His very being pressed up against her back, his hands (Bane's hands . . .) gripping her towards him as the knife held at her neck slivered slightly into her skin. Being so viscerally near him made her feel ill. No.

She flexed her arm muscles, opened her mouth, "You." He gripped her tighter. "Yes, you see it now. You see me in this all too familiar body," he crooned, his lips closer to her ear. "You know me all to well, Trinity. I almost didn't expect you to make the connection. But then, you are the quickest thinker of all humans I've encountered. Perhaps that's how you've slipped from my grasp so often, but not this time. This time will be different."

"I remember the first time. You were a long haired creature in a trench coat, running from the legit matrix law. They were hot on your trail the minute you hacked into the IRS database. You may be surprised to know that the Merovingian helped them find you, you caused him a great deal of business trouble by your little hack job. We never realized how you escaped our particular trap until you did the same trick again the night before I first met Mr. Anderson. You were always a tricky little vixen, with a fondness for jumping in and out of windows. And of course, that time with the detective. For that escape alone, I should kill you right now."

Trinity had forgotten all about Ash, that was a long time ago. But she did remember the pain from that very first escape. Her mind had almost slipped and made the glass all too real. She was young, far too young. She spent weeks in the infirmary, Dozer tut-tuting like crazy, with internal bleeding and random scratches all over her body. Her agent nightmares increased three fold since that incident, always starring the Agent who held her helpless in his grasp. Agents come and go, Morpheus would say, but this model always is in service. His ability to adapt, his fighting prowess and his leadership kept him active and always on their trail. Morpheus particularly stressed the importance of Mouse's Agent construct training program that featured Smith. Trinity had experienced death at his hands countless times in the training program, never able to beat him, only able to slip out of his grasp.

Morpheus had spoken to her at age sixteen as she sat in the medical bay crying over Kruvas' body, "we can never forgive Agents for what they do, we try, but it is impossible." The younger Trinity couldn't understand. "It's all they know, Trinity. Control. Death. And yet, we can't forgive them." She had taken off her cross necklace a month later and sold it back to the Zion merchant who gave it to her three years before. She didn't forgive Agents, but she couldn't hate them. Smith . . . Smith, she hated. She hated him for killing Kruvas and Creed. She hated him for his siren call to Cypher. She hated him for torturing Morpheus. But most of all, she hated him for what he did to Neo. Her lover had awoken every night to a Smith nightmare in the months following his death and the supposed destruction of his nemesis. He kept finding himself again and again in that hallway, bullets tearing into his chest and no Trinity to save him. Smith had burnt a scar deep into Neo's soul and Trinity knew he would never be released from that fear, that anger. She hated him.

She felt his left arm shift, edging towards her stomach, pulling her in even tighter. He nuzzled his face in her hair for a brief, frighteningly erotic moment, her fears and memories mingling into complex confusion and tension. He smelled like Bane, that unmistakable smell of sweat and orange. Her eyes closed, willing the situation as far from her as possible. "Always the one that got away. So now it's just you and me, girl. At least for the moment." Her eyes flew open, her heart three beats faster. "Bane." The name flew out of her mouth. He chuckled, she could almost sense Smith doing his own interpretation of Bane's sardonic smile. "Not much of the host survives. But enough of it to let me into some of his most treasured memories. It seems that the great Trinity is a woman after all."

The very thought of Smith sharing that memory, knowing her at such a different level finally gave her the strength she was lacking. She felt her blood rushing to her legs, her flexing arms, she felt dizzy as her adrenaline surged to every inch of her body. Smith had killed Bane and stolen his memories, his very being. Her muscles felt alive at last, her legs no longer frozen in place but ready for quick action. She had been his little victim long enough. His mouth at her ear opened again. "You know, I think I might enjoy killing you as much as killing him."

Everything but one particular face disappeared from her thought process as she flew into action. "Him" meant "Neo," and no one, no one, was coming near enough to Neo to even breath the threat of death on him if it was in her power. With almost matrix-like swiftness, she threw herself forward to gain momentum and then smashed back into him, throwing them both to the ground, a powerful cry erupting out of her. She was free from his grasp at last, kicking him as fiercely as she could. She forced herself to see Smith, not Bane. "I have always wanted to kill you myself," the coldness in her voice filling the room. He rose swiftly from the ground and rushed at her, quickly to be met by her mech light smashed powerfully against his face. She realized then that she did not have the tools to finish him, and that Neo must know as soon as possible.

Leaping to the stairs, she heard him move to follow, his feet crunching on the broken glass. She was out before he had the chance to grab her leg. Luckily she had the power to kick his face repeatedly with her Zion standard boot with every inch of vengeance that she felt spinning through her veins, adrenaline strengthening her. He would be blood soaked by now. She felt gratified with the wetness of real world violence. There was a shocking brutality to it. In those brief moments, she saw that it was Bane's face, but it was contorted in such a way that it wasn't his face at all. That thought freed her into one last kick that forced him down the stairs.

She had to inform Neo, waiting patiently upstairs. With her muscles screaming, she threw herself at the intercom. Quickly, looking back, she saw Bane's fingers on the top of the stairs. She felt unfocused, unsure of what exactly to say to Neo. Her mouth opened, words poured out. "Neo! It's Smith! He's on the ship!" It was done. She turned to make the next attack, fearing the fact that she could not sense the enemy like she could in the Matrix. But it was too late. His hand gripped on to her head and suddenly the world went black. Neo.

Within a minute, she came to, realizing that her hands were being bound. "How did you do it?" she spat the question at him. He grinned at her with that parody of the sardonic smile, his eyes slightly furrowed. He was nervous, rushed. Neo would be flying down the stairs in a moment, Smith had to be ready. Forcibly lifting her to her feet, he dragged her towards the opening of the lower power shaft. Trinity stood absolutely still, fighting against the pain radiating like a slow burning fire in her head. For a split second, she felt him wait, grow impatient and decide something. His mouth was back at her ear and knife back at her bleeding throat, "I know you, Trinity, far more than I'd ever dream to know you. Don't you try that little act again. I know your weaknesses as well as your strengths, girl. Now we wait for your white knight to come in and rescue you, little princess." His breath burned her ear again. "But don't worry about that. I'll be sure to kill you slowly in the end." His lips moved slowly down her neck, brushing her skin lightly. "Fitting, to end the lives of my two greatest annoyances in the human world, in this pathetic human shape."

A noise silenced him. And Neo, plasma gun in hand, leapt into the room, the fear in his eyes contradicting his deadly serious face. Trinity could tell that he had expected to see numerous Smiths sadistically holding her captive, not a lone soldier of Zion that he barely knew. Trinity had said "Smith" and yet it was Bane of the Caduceus holding his goddess in a tight grip, with both a knife and his lips on her neck . "Trinity?" was all he could say, his confusion blazing out of him. Smith chuckled at him, disturbing him further. Trinity looked at him steadily, willing him to do whatever it took to kill the creature holding her, even if that meant killing her.

Bane's mouth opened and a voice almost unfamiliar spat out the words. "Mr. Anderson." Neo flinched at the deadly familiar hailing and tightened his grip on the gun. He took another deep breath. "I see you're as predictable in this world as you are in the other." She felt him clutch her closer to him and her hands began to quietly test the cloth binding her wrists together. "What?" Neo stuttered, vainly wishing that some of his matrix fighting abilities had bled into his real world muscle memory. "Thank you for bringing me the gun. You can set it down right there." Trinity could see images of plasma gun wounds on Dozer. . . Tank. . .Cypher. Cauterized burning flesh, the suffocating smell filling your mouth and nose.

Neo hesitated, his grip on the gun wavering. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but your superior officer is really quite lovely, Mr. Anderson, when you hold her close and can smell her particular scent." He let out a laughing sigh. "I've never been this close, oh no, never has she been this close to me, always a fleeting figure out of reach. It's nice to just feel her here, in my grasp, waiting patiently for me to make one fatal mistake so she can destroy me into oblivion. This human body makes the experience ever so exhilarating." Neo's eyes were black with anger, his body visibly shaking. "Although, she knows this body holding her all too well, doesn't she?" Looking Neo in the eye, he pressed his lips hard against Trinity's neck and edged the knife further into her skin. Blood trickled down her neck. Her mouth opened and she let out a miniscule cry, angrier at herself for giving his words and actions the required response.

Neo took a step closer. "Bane." His voice was deadly quiet, the word cutting through the air like a knife. She looked at him, almost aghast at his inability to make the connection. "Neo. This isn't Bane. Shoot. Shoot now." Her mind was a cacophony of thought, fighting her simultaneous need to retch, fight and stay concentrated. Smith tightened his grip again on her. "I would never dare contradict such a lady. Shoot us, Mr. Anderson, burn us alive!" Neo couldn't think, his mind just could not compute the idea that if he shot Bane. Smith. whoever he was, he would also be shooting Trinity.

Death. The Merovingian's words echoed in her mind. "Are you really ready to die to for this man?" And she had said more than yes. And she had believed in herself, in her words, in her threat. But that was the matrix, a liminal zone of life and death. This was the real world where death was very, very real. Trinity realized that she wasn't ready to die, not yet. She hadn't had the chance to say all she needed to say, say goodbye to everyone. Morpheus, she hadn't said goodbye to him, nor Ghost. Fear rose in her throat, almost choking her. But this was the only way.

She kept her gaze on him. "Who else calls you Mr. Anderson, Neo? Believe me, this isn't Bane." Her captor snickered again. "She would know." Trinity's tense muscles flexed and released, all the while she tried to will herself into the knowledge that death was moments away. "Shoot, Neo. If you don't, he'll kill us both, or worse." Such an intense whispered authority almost swayed his decision, if it wasn't for the ache in his heart. Smith tightened his grip, obviously enjoying the visage of such a perplexed hero, trapped in an impossible choice. "Look at him. He knows he should do it but he won't. He can't."

The words tumbled out of Neo's mouth. "What do you want?" Smith was obviously taken aback, his grip lessened minutely allowing her to take in a huge breath of air, her mind spinning. "I want what you want." Trinity closed her eyes in near relief, it was finally something Neo could cling to, recognize. When she opened her eyes again, Neo's face was white and filled with an emotion she could not hope to describe. "Yes.That's it, Mr. Anderson." His grip was tight on her again. "Look past the flesh, look through the soft gelatin of these dull cow eyes and see your enemy." The intensity of Neo's gaze seemed to burn past her, as if she wasn't there anymore. Now it was just hero and villain sizing each other up. Preparing for battle and forgetting the obstacle of another warrior, albeit captive warrior, in the room.

Trinity realized that Smith had never intended this conversation to last this long, nor had he intended to be distracted so much from his hostage. She tugged harder at the cloth binding her hands, amazed at the weakness of the knot. If only she could have a few more seconds, she could undo the knot completely. Once her hands were free. . . But she needed time. With a small inward smile, she hoped that Smith's inability to stop taunting his nemesis would give her that time.

Smith's breathing grew more ragged, the thrill of this deadly moment was exciting him. "There is nowhere I can't go, there is nowhere I won't find you." His words, undeniable, were chilling, almost distracting her from her purpose, but honestly solidified her desire to be the one that killed him. "It's impossible," Neo spat out at him. She could tell that even Neo had forgotten that she was still there, held in a slightly less powerful grasp. Smith was slipping, unable to contain two enemies at once. Smith chuckled again, reveling in Neo's disbelief. "Not impossible. Inevitable." The word resonated in the room, reminding both men of their previous, and inexorably pointless, fight in the real world. The upcoming battle, they knew, would be real, would be the first time that they fought on honest terms. Trinity couldn't help a grim warrior smile escape her lips as she dropped her binding cloth from her wrists and stayed inhumanly still. Smith didn't notice, his eyes too intent on Neo's emotionless face. "Now. Put the gun down and turn around." The words slammed into Neo's thought process, reminding him that Trinity was still in the room, her life threatened by this creature, this archenemy. He couldn't think, couldn't compute a single plan that would work.

So Trinity did the thinking for him.

Perhaps no one in the real world had ever moved as fast as she in the two seconds that it took to rip herself away from Bane, grabbing and breaking his knife-holding hand in the process. Her muscles screamed in protest, but her mind was militantly focused on destroying the man whose crimes against her made the job completely effortless. Behind her, a bewildered Neo gripped the plasma gun and moved closer, preparing for a kill shot, but Trinity was too fast. The knife had clattered to the floor, but it wasn't needed, yet. Her vengeance wouldn't allow her to make the stupid distracting attempt of reaching for it, whereas Smith was painfully trying to do just that. Her fist smacked his face away from his target, and her foot kicked the reaching, unbroken, hand with a ferocity of a mountain lioness. Another kick threw Smith violently against the wall, blood gushing all over his face and neck. His eyes blinked red. She swiped the knife from the ground and motioned for Neo to stay still.

She couldn't deny the saunter in her hip as she approached her near broken enemy. Pleasure mixed with adrenaline coursed through her veins. Trinity had never been able to defeat an agent, and yet, here was an agent, the most deadly of them all, awaiting death from her hands. "You were right, Smith. I am a woman after all." Faces appeared in her mind's eye. Dead faces, faces of friends, of crew members. Neo's dead face, frightened face. The face of her lover as he awoke out of a chilling nightmare, his almost- scream still echoing in their room.

Smith unsteadily rose from the ground, not willing to give up, his strength waning but not gone altogether. His intense eyes dulled with pain but they were still focused on her. With a snarl, she bodily slammed him back down to the floor, straddling him. Her left hand held down his unbroken left hand, her right hand thrusting the knife against his neck. She forced herself not to see Bane in the bloodied face in front of her. She felt the room disappear into nothingness. All she could see was his eyes, Smith's unhidden eyes peering out of Bane's. His eyes filled with a mix of hate and despair. His mouth opened one last time. "Goodbye Trinity." The way he said her name haunted her. Almost sad, almost heartfelt. Now it's just you and me. This was the only way it could end. With her last burst of energy, she ripped the knife across his neck. The sound was wet, the feeling, alien. Blood everywhere. She tasted it in her mouth, metallic and salty. Bane's eyes rolled back, letting her lose from Smith's gaze. He was dead.

A sob rose out of her throat and she fell on top of him, a perverse image of the past memory. Neo dropped the plasma gun, his mouth gaped open, unable to breathe. His hand slowly rose to his eyes. He blinked. Had he seen. . .? No, he couldn't have. Right before she had killed him, Neo's vision had blurred and all he could see was a blurred orange outline of a man in sunglasses. It was Smith. Strangely, the orange had shattered into blackness as the knife pierced his throat. He was dead, at the hands of the woman who had desired his deletion, his death even before Neo even had begun wondering what the matrix was. Another sob pealed out of her mouth, her shoulders shaking, her emotions spent. Neo brushed his confusion aside and rushed to her, intent on pulling her away from him. She let go of Bane's hand and motioned Neo to stop. He faltered. Trinity pulled herself up, her face and chest covered in his blood, and dropped the knife unceremoniously on the ground. Turning, she moved in the direction of the bathroom, walking unsteadily, like a person blinded. Neo followed her slowly, baffled. As she reached the hallway, she leaned up against the wall for support and noticed that her hands were covered in blood. His blood. Oh god. . . She began to shake. Dealing in death was her business, her best skill. All of her finesse, her style was dedicated to killing coppertops in the quickest way possible. But she had never killed anyone in the real world. Never a fellow soldier. Never an agent. Never. . . him.

Neo reached out for her, ignoring the hand that raised again to stop him. He grabbed onto her tightly, his eyes unmistakably filled with tears. With a noise more animal than human, she fought his embrace, fought the intimacy of someone holding you too close, too near, body crushed into another. He wouldn't let her go. He held on to her as she thrashed against him, unable to recognize the familiarity of his touch, the sound of his voice saying her name over and over and over. But her strength was finished. She no longer had the energy to fight back. Finally limp in his arms, she buried her face in his neck, her mouth repeating in a desperate whisper, "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou." His eyes, still a mix of confusion and shock, closed and he held her tighter.