fic: Le Disko - Photograph
Story: Le Disko
Chapter: Photograph
Fandom: TRON & Legacy
Verse: Pilots & Poison
Characters/Pairing: Sam Flynn/Tron; Lora, Alan
Rating: T
Word Count: 2511
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: They are each other's memories of the years and cycles before that fateful day in 1989.
Author’s Note: I forgot to mention that the time stamp "We're OK" was for this prompt by smiley_anon. I say this because this time stamp was a combined response to prompts by subsequent and xandri. This is the revised version of the original fill, and hopefully a much better one.
P.S. I rewrote this while watching a bunch of Nostalgia Critic videos so I have no idea how focused the chapter is, or how unfocused it is. Either way, I don't have enough brain to sit down and work through every sentence to make sure everything's the way they should be.
P.S.S. And yes, I couldn't resist myself - I had to stick in a quote from the KH2 trailers.
What the hell was I thinking?
Sam's had, and acted upon, spontaneous bad ideas throughout his life (he likes to think that jumping off ENCOM Tower isn't one of them, despite what everybody thinks), but he usually knows how spontaneous and bad they are. Most times he's well aware of them because he's putting his life on the line, like when he broke into the tower to hack the servers and made his escape by diving from the rooftop.
When his life isn't in immediate danger? He doesn't think things through until it's much too late. For instance, Alan calls to say he has paperwork from tonight's board meeting that he wants Sam to look over. Sam promises to be there in ten minutes, manages to drag Tron away from the antique Space Paranoids game at a local bar - "If you want to destroy Recognizers I'll write the code so you can program them on the Training Grid, now come on." - and tells him that he'll be back on the Grid in only twenty minutes while pointing the Ducati towards the 405.
It's when they're in the quiet, upper class neighborhood and he's making a U-turn to park at the curb because there are two cars on the driveway that he realizes that he should probably take Tron home to the Grid first. There are two cars on the driveway and he just remembered that Lora was coming home tonight from Boston.
They hadn't told her about the Grid.
Or her long-missing digitizing ray.
Or what happened to his father.
Or Tron.
Especially Tron.
He pulls off his helmet but doesn't get off the motorcycle; he frowns at his faint reflection, wondering if he should call Alan and say he's taking Tron back to the Grid first or risk everything by going up to the door right now. And if Lora's there when Alan answers? A million different opening lines flit through his head but nothing sounds promising, especially once she gets a good look at Tron. All the bluffing and lying in the world won't distract from the fact that one is a decades-younger dead ringer for the other.
The arms around his waist tighten and Tron rests his head on Sam's shoulder. Questions radiate off of him and Sam sighs, leans back against him.
"Kind of hoping Alan's the one answering the door. If Lora does..." He stops momentarily when Tron stiffens. "Well, we'd be screwed."
Not surprisingly, things don't happen the way Sam wants them to happen. After another minute of deliberation he decides to risk it and knocks on the door while Tron hangs back, looking oddly anxious.
Lora doesn't even get a word out. Her eyes widen and her jaw goes slack while Tron very weakly says, "Yori?"
Oh, fuck.
* * *
There's a dull ache in Tron's chest as he watches the three people talk about him. Well, not him in particular - they seem to be avoiding him completely, in fact - but about the Grid, Flynn, Quorra, the digitizing ray that's responsible for everything. He should probably pay attention to the conversation but he can't take his eyes off of Yori. Lora. Yori's User. Yori. She looks like Yori. Older, grayer, lined where there's wear and tear from the User world, but there's no mistaking the Yori in her. The Lora in his memories of Yori. Graceful, lively, daring, sharp. The ache becomes stronger the longer he watches her with Alan.
No surprise why he felt something stronger than an affinity for Yori when they first crossed each other's path a long, long time ago.
But this is Lora, not Yori. Yori isn't here.
Tron suddenly misses her terribly. He drops his eyes to the floor and forces himself to tune back into the lively conversation.
"...my project? All this time? And both of you continued hiding it from me?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me. I used that digitizer on an orange. I'm well aware of its capabilities. I built it. And Flynn 'borrowed' it to scan himself into a computer? Really? That's what he was doing until he disappeared?"
"Yeah." Sam's voice is unnaturally small, and Tron leans in, presses a hand to the small of his back. Sam takes a deep breath and explains in a steadier voice, "Dad set up the digitizer in the basement and hid the stairs so that nobody could find it. He went in almost every night to work on the system, right up until Clu-until he got trapped."
"We were in that arcade trying to find clues to where he went, and he was under our feet the whole time, trapped in his own computer." Yori - Lora's voice quavers with disbelief as she leans against the glass dining table. "This is-this is unbelievable. Wow."
"None of us knew," Alan says and Tron hears the eerily familiar steel in his voice. "You never knew what else that digitizer's capable of. It's not your fault."
"God, I know." She presses her fingertips to her right temple, sighs as she gathers herself. "This is a lot to take in." She then looks up at Sam. "So let me get this straight - Quorra originally isn't human. The digitizer made computer code...material. Read her code and converted it. That's incredible. Did you-no, of course you wouldn't. She's human now; we can't do that to her. But just think about it. It converted digital DAN to human DNA. This is mind-blowing."
"She's an ISO - isomorphic algorithm," Sam says. "There's nothing like her code anywhere. Not anymore, anyway."
Tron looks between them, wondering how Sam and Alan would explain him to Lora. He didn't miss her recoiling involuntarily when she saw him and there was no mistaking the revulsion in her eyes when Sam told her who and what he is.
Do humans feel this disgusted when faced with a likeness of themselves or people they know? Flynn had no trouble with Clu wearing his face; in fact he seemed pleased with himself, but it was always like Flynn to be unconventional and happy over something gone right. Perhaps he was the odd one out and Lora's reaction is the more typical one.
"Why? What happened to the others?" Lora asks.
"Look, I'll tell you everything, promise, but I have to get Tron back to the Grid. We're a couple minutes past deadline and he doesn't like it when he's out for longer than two hours. Security monitor and all that."
Lora glances at him and then quickly looks away. "I'll just have to grill Alan, then." The teasing tone magnifies the melancholy enveloping Tron. She then becomes more somber as she adds, "I wish you told us earlier, me especially."
"I know, I'm sorry."
Tron shifts uneasily on his feet, wishing he was back on the Grid studying the data Cyrus gathered for him, discussing the city's infrastructure with Enyo and Shaddox, and running his team through one of the several new simulations Sam programmed into the Training Grid. He doesn't want to watch Sam constantly apologize for events he had no control over, and he doesn't want to be near Yori's User. He edges back a half-step and Sam twitches, glances over his shoulder.
Alan sighs and rubs his nose bridge. "Sam?"
Sam turns to Tron, says, "I'll be back in a minute," and follows Alan somewhere deep inside the house.
He's left standing there with Lora, who's folding her arms tightly and looking elsewhere. He senses the immense distance between them and reads all the questions in the constant flicker of her eyes in his direction. He looks down at his feet but still feels their weight on his shoulders and wishes again that he was elsewhere. The floor creaks and he looks up to see her staring at several frames tastefully organized on the wall. Curious, he takes a sliding step to the right to better see the colorful images. One in particular draws his attention, but when the image focuses and he can see what it portrays everything around and inside him shrinks down to the picture of himself and Yori in User clothing, smiling as they stand in front of a massive canyon that's a deep reddish hue he's never seen before.
"You look just like him."
Tron looks at her sharply. What's he supposed to say to that?
Lora continues, says, "She looked just like me, didn't she? Probably much younger, though. I'm betting '80, '81, '82."
She walks up to the frames and touches the frame of the one of her and Alan - of Yori and Tron - in front of the canyon. "Took this one in 1983. Grand Canyon. First vacation after Flynn became CEO. Looking at you, it's like you walked right out of this photo. You're like a living, breathing time capsule."
He doesn't quite get what she's saying. Instead he focuses on the distance in her voice, the way she seems to drift off in her memories. There isn't anything particularly... haunted in her tone, nothing like the way others talk about their pasts. Jealousy suddenly flares up, hot and sharp, as he thinks about his inability to reminisce like she can.
"What happened to her?"
"What?"
Lora finally turns around and for the fleeting moment all he sees is Yori. Then he blinks and she's gone.
"The look on your face when you called me Yori," she says. Her smile is so knowing and so sad, all Lora. "What happened to her?"
Tron drops his gaze to the glass table and he presses the flat of his hand on the cool surface, watches the glass fog around his fingers. The words of a world-weary Flynn echo in his head. "She died long ago fighting for what was right. I...I wasn't there for her."
He doesn't want to think about it. He never, ever wants to think about it.
"You love her, like Alan and me." It's not a question. "Forgive me, but it's not...easy wrapping my mind around all this. It's... incredible. You're here, you are standing here in my house, looking exactly like Alan when he was thirty, thirty-one. A computer program in his compiler's image. If Yori was here, she'd look like me when.... I'm sorry. It must be hard for you."
Her hand suddenly appears over his, enveloping it in soft and steady warmth. His breath hitches as something twists tightly in his chest, a raw and painful substitute for what would be an intense pulse of energy through his circuitry back on the Grid. He stares at the fine lines and wrinkles on her hand and the simple gold band on her third finger.
Wedding ring. Quorra told him what they were after he saw one on Alan's hand. They were a symbol of commitment between people who loved each other. He wonders if he'd have given one to Yori if such things existed on either system.
"Did you ever ask Sam to bring her back? I should think that's possible..."
Tron tilts his head up to her while the name echoes in his mind.
Sam.
"Even if I could I wouldn't." His voice sounds like it's coming from far away, low and level and firm. He doesn't sound at all like how he feels. "I...loved her and I miss her, but it's been too long and I've moved on. And even if he could bring her back it wouldn't be her. It wouldn't be the Yori I remember, and I wouldn't be the Tron she remembers."
He doesn't blink once as she searches his face. After a moment that seems to stretch almost as long as the lost cycles after the Reintegration she smiles and squeezes his hand once before stepping back.
Somewhere inside the house a door swings open and voices come down the hall towards them.
"One day you'll have to show me this Grid of yours," Lora says. "Want to see why Flynn never gave back that digitizer."
"Are you sure?" He remembers Sam suggesting Alan come visit the Grid once, and Alan said no, he was too old for it.
"Why not?" she challenges and he is suddenly very strongly reminded of Enyo.
Sam and Alan appear, with Sam tucking several folded sheets of paper into his jacket. He makes a beeline for Tron, touches his arm, and says, "Ready?"
Tron looks back at Lora one more time as they leave the house. She has a strange look on her face that he can't decipher, but she's still smiling.
He decides that he wouldn't mind showing her the Grid sometime in the future.
* * *
She pushes aside the curtains and peers outside, follows her godson and Alan's doppelganger down the walkway towards the Ducati at the curb. Alan shifts behind her, radiating his special brand of anxiety.
"I still can't believe that's your firewall program," she says. "Even harder to believe you used to be that young. And that ass..."
"Lora."
"Oh hush, you. There's nothing to be ashamed of. For a straight-laced nerd with giant glasses you had a fine body." She looks over her shoulder and flashes him a mischievous smile. "Even thirty years later."
He relaxes just a bit, which is when she adds, "I still want the whole story, you know."
"I think Sam can tell you more than I can."
She pulls back the curtain another inch, watches Sam lean against that old motorcycle and tug Tron to him. She lets the curtain fall back into place and turns away, not wanting to be an intruder.
"So you noticed."
"Well, they weren't hiding it."
Until tonight she only associated the word "Tron" with a firewall program Alan wrote before there were firewall programs and a franchise Flynn put together that made ENCOM a household name overnight. Two minutes ago she had a conversation with Tron the firewall program-turn-human-with-her-digitizer who's wearing Alan's face. The surreality of it almost makes her wonder if she isn't just dreaming while thousands of feet up in the air in a plane headed home to LAX from Boston.
But no, he's real. She talked to him and he responded in a voice that's distinctly his, felt the heat of his hand under hers, listened to him talk about one of the programs she wrote decades ago with heavy sadness. She saw the way Sam acted and reacted around him, heard a warmth in his voice that she hadn't heard since before Jordan died. Tron's real and here to stay.
A motorcycle rumbles to life and she peers through the curtains again to watch them leave. The questions start resurfacing as she then turns around to Alan and nods towards the kitchen.
"Why do I get the feeling that I'm gonna spend the entire night talking over a bottle of wine and not sleeping?" he asks.
"I don't know what you're talking about. So, why did Sam look at you when mentioning the night we broke into ENCOM?"
Chapter: Photograph
Fandom: TRON & Legacy
Verse: Pilots & Poison
Characters/Pairing: Sam Flynn/Tron; Lora, Alan
Rating: T
Word Count: 2511
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: They are each other's memories of the years and cycles before that fateful day in 1989.
Author’s Note: I forgot to mention that the time stamp "We're OK" was for this prompt by smiley_anon. I say this because this time stamp was a combined response to prompts by subsequent and xandri. This is the revised version of the original fill, and hopefully a much better one.
P.S. I rewrote this while watching a bunch of Nostalgia Critic videos so I have no idea how focused the chapter is, or how unfocused it is. Either way, I don't have enough brain to sit down and work through every sentence to make sure everything's the way they should be.
P.S.S. And yes, I couldn't resist myself - I had to stick in a quote from the KH2 trailers.
What the hell was I thinking?
Sam's had, and acted upon, spontaneous bad ideas throughout his life (he likes to think that jumping off ENCOM Tower isn't one of them, despite what everybody thinks), but he usually knows how spontaneous and bad they are. Most times he's well aware of them because he's putting his life on the line, like when he broke into the tower to hack the servers and made his escape by diving from the rooftop.
When his life isn't in immediate danger? He doesn't think things through until it's much too late. For instance, Alan calls to say he has paperwork from tonight's board meeting that he wants Sam to look over. Sam promises to be there in ten minutes, manages to drag Tron away from the antique Space Paranoids game at a local bar - "If you want to destroy Recognizers I'll write the code so you can program them on the Training Grid, now come on." - and tells him that he'll be back on the Grid in only twenty minutes while pointing the Ducati towards the 405.
It's when they're in the quiet, upper class neighborhood and he's making a U-turn to park at the curb because there are two cars on the driveway that he realizes that he should probably take Tron home to the Grid first. There are two cars on the driveway and he just remembered that Lora was coming home tonight from Boston.
They hadn't told her about the Grid.
Or her long-missing digitizing ray.
Or what happened to his father.
Or Tron.
Especially Tron.
He pulls off his helmet but doesn't get off the motorcycle; he frowns at his faint reflection, wondering if he should call Alan and say he's taking Tron back to the Grid first or risk everything by going up to the door right now. And if Lora's there when Alan answers? A million different opening lines flit through his head but nothing sounds promising, especially once she gets a good look at Tron. All the bluffing and lying in the world won't distract from the fact that one is a decades-younger dead ringer for the other.
The arms around his waist tighten and Tron rests his head on Sam's shoulder. Questions radiate off of him and Sam sighs, leans back against him.
"Kind of hoping Alan's the one answering the door. If Lora does..." He stops momentarily when Tron stiffens. "Well, we'd be screwed."
Not surprisingly, things don't happen the way Sam wants them to happen. After another minute of deliberation he decides to risk it and knocks on the door while Tron hangs back, looking oddly anxious.
Lora doesn't even get a word out. Her eyes widen and her jaw goes slack while Tron very weakly says, "Yori?"
Oh, fuck.
* * *
There's a dull ache in Tron's chest as he watches the three people talk about him. Well, not him in particular - they seem to be avoiding him completely, in fact - but about the Grid, Flynn, Quorra, the digitizing ray that's responsible for everything. He should probably pay attention to the conversation but he can't take his eyes off of Yori. Lora. Yori's User. Yori. She looks like Yori. Older, grayer, lined where there's wear and tear from the User world, but there's no mistaking the Yori in her. The Lora in his memories of Yori. Graceful, lively, daring, sharp. The ache becomes stronger the longer he watches her with Alan.
No surprise why he felt something stronger than an affinity for Yori when they first crossed each other's path a long, long time ago.
But this is Lora, not Yori. Yori isn't here.
Tron suddenly misses her terribly. He drops his eyes to the floor and forces himself to tune back into the lively conversation.
"...my project? All this time? And both of you continued hiding it from me?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me. I used that digitizer on an orange. I'm well aware of its capabilities. I built it. And Flynn 'borrowed' it to scan himself into a computer? Really? That's what he was doing until he disappeared?"
"Yeah." Sam's voice is unnaturally small, and Tron leans in, presses a hand to the small of his back. Sam takes a deep breath and explains in a steadier voice, "Dad set up the digitizer in the basement and hid the stairs so that nobody could find it. He went in almost every night to work on the system, right up until Clu-until he got trapped."
"We were in that arcade trying to find clues to where he went, and he was under our feet the whole time, trapped in his own computer." Yori - Lora's voice quavers with disbelief as she leans against the glass dining table. "This is-this is unbelievable. Wow."
"None of us knew," Alan says and Tron hears the eerily familiar steel in his voice. "You never knew what else that digitizer's capable of. It's not your fault."
"God, I know." She presses her fingertips to her right temple, sighs as she gathers herself. "This is a lot to take in." She then looks up at Sam. "So let me get this straight - Quorra originally isn't human. The digitizer made computer code...material. Read her code and converted it. That's incredible. Did you-no, of course you wouldn't. She's human now; we can't do that to her. But just think about it. It converted digital DAN to human DNA. This is mind-blowing."
"She's an ISO - isomorphic algorithm," Sam says. "There's nothing like her code anywhere. Not anymore, anyway."
Tron looks between them, wondering how Sam and Alan would explain him to Lora. He didn't miss her recoiling involuntarily when she saw him and there was no mistaking the revulsion in her eyes when Sam told her who and what he is.
Do humans feel this disgusted when faced with a likeness of themselves or people they know? Flynn had no trouble with Clu wearing his face; in fact he seemed pleased with himself, but it was always like Flynn to be unconventional and happy over something gone right. Perhaps he was the odd one out and Lora's reaction is the more typical one.
"Why? What happened to the others?" Lora asks.
"Look, I'll tell you everything, promise, but I have to get Tron back to the Grid. We're a couple minutes past deadline and he doesn't like it when he's out for longer than two hours. Security monitor and all that."
Lora glances at him and then quickly looks away. "I'll just have to grill Alan, then." The teasing tone magnifies the melancholy enveloping Tron. She then becomes more somber as she adds, "I wish you told us earlier, me especially."
"I know, I'm sorry."
Tron shifts uneasily on his feet, wishing he was back on the Grid studying the data Cyrus gathered for him, discussing the city's infrastructure with Enyo and Shaddox, and running his team through one of the several new simulations Sam programmed into the Training Grid. He doesn't want to watch Sam constantly apologize for events he had no control over, and he doesn't want to be near Yori's User. He edges back a half-step and Sam twitches, glances over his shoulder.
Alan sighs and rubs his nose bridge. "Sam?"
Sam turns to Tron, says, "I'll be back in a minute," and follows Alan somewhere deep inside the house.
He's left standing there with Lora, who's folding her arms tightly and looking elsewhere. He senses the immense distance between them and reads all the questions in the constant flicker of her eyes in his direction. He looks down at his feet but still feels their weight on his shoulders and wishes again that he was elsewhere. The floor creaks and he looks up to see her staring at several frames tastefully organized on the wall. Curious, he takes a sliding step to the right to better see the colorful images. One in particular draws his attention, but when the image focuses and he can see what it portrays everything around and inside him shrinks down to the picture of himself and Yori in User clothing, smiling as they stand in front of a massive canyon that's a deep reddish hue he's never seen before.
"You look just like him."
Tron looks at her sharply. What's he supposed to say to that?
Lora continues, says, "She looked just like me, didn't she? Probably much younger, though. I'm betting '80, '81, '82."
She walks up to the frames and touches the frame of the one of her and Alan - of Yori and Tron - in front of the canyon. "Took this one in 1983. Grand Canyon. First vacation after Flynn became CEO. Looking at you, it's like you walked right out of this photo. You're like a living, breathing time capsule."
He doesn't quite get what she's saying. Instead he focuses on the distance in her voice, the way she seems to drift off in her memories. There isn't anything particularly... haunted in her tone, nothing like the way others talk about their pasts. Jealousy suddenly flares up, hot and sharp, as he thinks about his inability to reminisce like she can.
"What happened to her?"
"What?"
Lora finally turns around and for the fleeting moment all he sees is Yori. Then he blinks and she's gone.
"The look on your face when you called me Yori," she says. Her smile is so knowing and so sad, all Lora. "What happened to her?"
Tron drops his gaze to the glass table and he presses the flat of his hand on the cool surface, watches the glass fog around his fingers. The words of a world-weary Flynn echo in his head. "She died long ago fighting for what was right. I...I wasn't there for her."
He doesn't want to think about it. He never, ever wants to think about it.
"You love her, like Alan and me." It's not a question. "Forgive me, but it's not...easy wrapping my mind around all this. It's... incredible. You're here, you are standing here in my house, looking exactly like Alan when he was thirty, thirty-one. A computer program in his compiler's image. If Yori was here, she'd look like me when.... I'm sorry. It must be hard for you."
Her hand suddenly appears over his, enveloping it in soft and steady warmth. His breath hitches as something twists tightly in his chest, a raw and painful substitute for what would be an intense pulse of energy through his circuitry back on the Grid. He stares at the fine lines and wrinkles on her hand and the simple gold band on her third finger.
Wedding ring. Quorra told him what they were after he saw one on Alan's hand. They were a symbol of commitment between people who loved each other. He wonders if he'd have given one to Yori if such things existed on either system.
"Did you ever ask Sam to bring her back? I should think that's possible..."
Tron tilts his head up to her while the name echoes in his mind.
Sam.
"Even if I could I wouldn't." His voice sounds like it's coming from far away, low and level and firm. He doesn't sound at all like how he feels. "I...loved her and I miss her, but it's been too long and I've moved on. And even if he could bring her back it wouldn't be her. It wouldn't be the Yori I remember, and I wouldn't be the Tron she remembers."
He doesn't blink once as she searches his face. After a moment that seems to stretch almost as long as the lost cycles after the Reintegration she smiles and squeezes his hand once before stepping back.
Somewhere inside the house a door swings open and voices come down the hall towards them.
"One day you'll have to show me this Grid of yours," Lora says. "Want to see why Flynn never gave back that digitizer."
"Are you sure?" He remembers Sam suggesting Alan come visit the Grid once, and Alan said no, he was too old for it.
"Why not?" she challenges and he is suddenly very strongly reminded of Enyo.
Sam and Alan appear, with Sam tucking several folded sheets of paper into his jacket. He makes a beeline for Tron, touches his arm, and says, "Ready?"
Tron looks back at Lora one more time as they leave the house. She has a strange look on her face that he can't decipher, but she's still smiling.
He decides that he wouldn't mind showing her the Grid sometime in the future.
* * *
She pushes aside the curtains and peers outside, follows her godson and Alan's doppelganger down the walkway towards the Ducati at the curb. Alan shifts behind her, radiating his special brand of anxiety.
"I still can't believe that's your firewall program," she says. "Even harder to believe you used to be that young. And that ass..."
"Lora."
"Oh hush, you. There's nothing to be ashamed of. For a straight-laced nerd with giant glasses you had a fine body." She looks over her shoulder and flashes him a mischievous smile. "Even thirty years later."
He relaxes just a bit, which is when she adds, "I still want the whole story, you know."
"I think Sam can tell you more than I can."
She pulls back the curtain another inch, watches Sam lean against that old motorcycle and tug Tron to him. She lets the curtain fall back into place and turns away, not wanting to be an intruder.
"So you noticed."
"Well, they weren't hiding it."
Until tonight she only associated the word "Tron" with a firewall program Alan wrote before there were firewall programs and a franchise Flynn put together that made ENCOM a household name overnight. Two minutes ago she had a conversation with Tron the firewall program-turn-human-with-her-digitizer who's wearing Alan's face. The surreality of it almost makes her wonder if she isn't just dreaming while thousands of feet up in the air in a plane headed home to LAX from Boston.
But no, he's real. She talked to him and he responded in a voice that's distinctly his, felt the heat of his hand under hers, listened to him talk about one of the programs she wrote decades ago with heavy sadness. She saw the way Sam acted and reacted around him, heard a warmth in his voice that she hadn't heard since before Jordan died. Tron's real and here to stay.
A motorcycle rumbles to life and she peers through the curtains again to watch them leave. The questions start resurfacing as she then turns around to Alan and nods towards the kitchen.
"Why do I get the feeling that I'm gonna spend the entire night talking over a bottle of wine and not sleeping?" he asks.
"I don't know what you're talking about. So, why did Sam look at you when mentioning the night we broke into ENCOM?"