Fic: 'Hot and Bothered' (4/25)
Title: Hot and Bothered
Fandom: The Matrix
Characters: Mouse, Trinity, Cypher.
Word Count: 827
Prompt: From fanfic25, 5/14: 'Dumb'.
Notes: None.
Summary: On the hottest night of the year, people get a little frustrated. Agents don't help matters.
Even though it was nearly midnight, the heat rolled off Concepción. It formed dense clouds in the all-night bars, it clung to every moving hand and streamed down the back of each dancer's neck. There were a few neon signs visible through the haze, but it seemed as though the entire city was consumed in a warm fog of light. It made Mouse feel dumb, gangly, and clumsy. Trinity had stared at him in confusion as he fumbled with his cellphone, thumbs clashing as he tried to get in touch with Tank. He swore, gritted his teeth, and tried again. Finally, it started ringing, and when Tank responded with a vaguely irritated-sounding "Operator", it took all the self-control Mouse had left in him not to throw the phone down the arcade and storm off. He did storm off, but only after thrusting the phone towards Trinity. While she explained what had gone wrong, Mouse leaned against the cool tiles lining one wall and huffed angrily.
It was all his fault, he reckoned: if he hadn't been distracted, if he'd counted the number of turns properly, then the crew wouldn't have been running down the wrong alleyway. If they hadn't been running down the wrong alleyway, then they would have been one block away from that particular door. If they'd been one block away, then they'd have had a headstart when the Agents decided to come bursting through that door. And that headstart would've been really useful, because it was too damn hot for a chase. When they had found a safe spot, hiding their signals in the buzz of the cables in the walls of the arcade, carrying games and news and porn and god-knows-what to the denizens of the city, they could get their breath back. Aside from Mouse, who was about to lose it again.
"You stupid fuck," Cypher rasped. Mouse wondered for a moment if Cypher would be a smoker if there were cigarettes available. "The wrong fucking turn!?"
Trinity, still talking to Tank, glanced over. Mouse could see by the way she looked at him that he was about to miss something important. She snapped the phone shut.
The punch caught Mouse in the side of the gut, and he dropped to his knees, more out of surprise than pain. Cypher shook out his fist and walked away.
"Cypher, what did you do that for?" Trinity asked, and Mouse managed to swivel his head enough to see the conversation rather than just spasming in breathlessness. "He made a mistake. Anybody could have made that mistake."
"And if they had, I'd have hit them as well." Cypher grinned lopsidedly at her. She shook her head and went to help Mouse to his feet. He shrugged her hand away and pulled himself up against the wall, still gasping from the shock of the attack. His brain felt like it had been shaken in his skull, nauseating him even more than the heat that was pressed against his skin.
"Tank's about to lock onto the payphone on the corner," Trinity said, trying not to look at either of the two men, who were now glaring at each other. "Mouse, I think you should go first."
"Why?" Mouse spat. "So I don't get us all killed?"
"Pretty much, Mouse. But if it's any consolation, I lost count too."
Cypher laughed, a high-pitched, joyless laugh that made Mouse's skin crawl. "Great. Am I the only one in this city who knows what's going on?"
On the corner, the phone started ringing. Mouse stumbled towards it, Trinity following a step behind, prepared to tend to Mouse when (if, he corrected himself) he couldn't keep his feet underneath him. The air felt hotter than ever. He could almost hear it buzzing with humidity. The buzzing he actually heard was the sound of the Matrix slipping away from around him, and the deck of the Nebuchadnezzar taking its place. A few seconds after he'd unplugged himself, he was on his feet, rubbing his ribs gingerly.
"Where are the Agents?" he asked Tank, as Tank dialled the payphone again.
"They haven't found you. They won't. You're pretty well shielded where you are." Behind them, Trinity opened her eyes. Cypher remained, prostrate in the chair.
"Leave him," Mouse said.
Tank turned; stared at him. "What?"
"Just for a few minutes," Mouse said. "You said they won't find him. I want him to sweat. In every sense of the word."
Tank turned to Trinity, the question already on his lips, but Trinity shrugged. "It'll teach him, I guess," she said.
Tank sat in silence, watching the monitors. Trinity watched over his shoulder. Mouse strode off down the corridor, hoping to get to his cabin before Cypher got out, but almost laughing with the sheer relief of it all, and the joy of the cool air that surrounded him. I may be a stupid fuck, but I'm not dumb.