Some Guys Have all the Luck

Threats and Roses

Disclaimer: smithsbabe65 and myself don’t own anything that is associated with the Matrix, so there.

“Montgomery, my office, now!” Smith barked over the phone. The diminutive agent cringed as the phone was slammed down in his ear. Obviously, his date with Ms. Alvarez on Saturday did not go well, Jeffrey thought, as he scuttled to obey Smith’s directive. He had learned that all orders that were issued from the lead agent’s office were to be obeyed immediately for Smith was not a program who liked waiting.

Smith was pacing back and forth behind his massive oak and walnut-inlay desk and Montgomery took his usual chair. He knew from past experience when it was wise to begin speaking when his boss was in one of his moods and waited to be invited to speak and give his views when it was required.

“That little slut! Do you know what she did to me Saturday night, Montgomery? She humiliated me in public and she will pay for that!” Smith glanced at him and his subordinate knew the time had come; Montgomery was well aware that it behoved Smith to volunteer the information openly—his insatiable vanity made it more palatable if he were asked.

“What did she do, sir?”

“When I arrived to pick her up, she was drunk. There was alcohol on her clothes and on her breath. I thought she would change into something more appropriate for an evening out but she staggered to her purse and said she was ready! It is not very often that I am at a loss for something to say, but I certainly was then, I can tell you. When we arrived, I selected a table at the very back of the restaurant to avoid being seen by anyone who would know who I was.

I had pre-ordered a bottle of ’54 Dom Perignon ahead of time and once it arrived, I realised I had made a mistake. The little tramp couldn’t wait to get her greedy little mitts on it and instead of using the proper glass for its consumption, she used the water glass on the table, filling it up to the top. The stupid cow guzzled it as if it were beer, instead of savouring it the way it was meant. Disgusting.”

Smith turned away in revulsion, a scowl on his face. He had gone to a lot of expense in preparation for his date with Celia and at the end of it, he had fully expected to be repaid by sampling her intimate favours--instead, he had been humiliated and spent the rest of the evening alone and frustrated.

Jeffrey smirked to himself for he knew that if there was one thing Smith abhorred in a female dinner companion, it was a woman who did not know which piece of cutlery to use for each course or the proper usage of stemware. Women should be seen and not heard at the dinner table, Smith had told him once. Females should be a compliment to their male companions—there should not be a hair out of place and they should be impeccably groomed at all times. It also did not hurt if she had the looks of a magazine cover girl. First and foremost, however, they must not be allowed to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol either; that was the purpose of taverns and bars.

Still, however, Jeffrey was disappointed with how the evening had turned out for his boss—it was an unspoken agreement between that as soon as Smith was bored with his conquest of any young lady that had caught his fancy, the road was clear for Montgomery to indulge himself and his carnal desires with the young lady afterward.

And getting a taste of the fiery Ms. Celia Alvarez was something that Jeffrey Montgomery desired very much. To feel her ample breasts in his hands as he roughly groped them, hearing her whimper at the pain he would cause her to feel for every insult, every derogatory remark or look she had ever directed at him was something he had long looked forward to.

He would humiliate her, using her body for his pleasure and gratification—she would cry out as he entered her roughly and cringe at the foul names he would use, his lips against her ear so that she would have no choice but to hear what he used: slut, whore, cunt, twat—he would use them all. With the aid of a chosen blue pharmaceutical pill, his erection would last for hours. Hours of listening to Ms. Alvarez beg him to stop, each thrust would hurt her more and more and when he finally got tired of listening to her whine and whimper, he would shut her up as his member filled her wide mouth--after he had fucked her thoroughly, of course.

Suppressing a sigh of regret at a missed opportunity, Montgomery hastened to raise Smith’s spirits with the unexpected tidbit of information he had managed to glean that morning.

“I happen to know that two deliveries of flowers were made to the secretarial pool this morning,” Montgomery said. Smith half-turned his head to listen—there was a suggestion that more information would be forthcoming and Montgomery was not the kind of program to keep any secrets from his boss.

“Really?” Smith asked, his eyes narrowed and calculating. “To Ms. Rodgers and Ms. Alvarez, no doubt?”

Montgomery nodded. “Correct as always, sir. Lara and Celia received flowers from Agents Brown and Jones respectively. Long-stemmed roses, to be exact.”

Smith sneered, a disdainful gleam in his eye that he directed at his underling but that Montgomery entirely failed to notice. “You’ve done very well by me this morning, Jeffrey, I won’t forget this,” Smith said amiably, patting the odious little program on the back and Smith fought the urge to wipe his hand after doing so.

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Celia and Lara were very talkative on their subway ride to work. Each had lots to say regarding what had happened to each over the weekend.

“So, what happened on your date with Smith?” Lara demanded. “You never called me Saturday night to tell me what went down, so tell me now. I am dying to know!”

“Where should I start?” Celia asked. “You were right; Smith absolutely hated the sight and smell of me and ordered me to leave almost as soon as our menus arrived! It was priceless, girl, you should have seen the look on his face! But the best part is what happened afterwards. While I was waiting outside getting soaking wet from trying to hail a cab, who shows up but Agent Brown!”

It was at that point that Celia had to stop her recital--their stop was next and they had to concentrate getting through the throng of people to the exit doors. Once inside the Agency Building lobby, they hurried to their cubicles where they could have more privacy.

All thoughts of getting her curiosity satisfied about what had happened to her friend disappeared completely as Lara’s jaw dropped when she saw that a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses had been placed at her cubicle, almost taking up her entire work area.

“Who sent those?” Celia asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Never mind who sent these, who sent those?” Lara said, pointing to Celia’s cubicle where an almost identical arrangement was waiting for her at her desk.

“I know,” Celia said, “Jones sent yours and Brown sent these to me. Open your card and I’ll open mine.” She opened the tiny white envelope that had been tucked in among the crimson blooms and was surprised that the flowers were not from Agent Brown as she had originally thought.

“Celia, I think I might have got yours by mistake….oh!” Lara squeaked, looking up at her friend. “These flowers are from Agent Brown and they are for me! Listen to this:

Ms. Lara Rodgers,

You are truly the ultimate miracle worker and if you
ever need a favour, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,
Agent Brown

“Can you believe that?” Lara asked, her eyes and face aglow. “Who are your flowers from?”

“Listen to this,” Celia said, and read:

Ms. Celia Alvarez,

Under normal circumstances, your verbal outburst
towards myself would warrant disciplinary measures.
Instead, I offer you my sincerest thanks.

Yours truly,
Agent Jones

Both women were staring at one other, open-mouthed and utterly speechless, when two tall, handsome well-dressed men stopped and looked in the doorway that housed the secretarial pool. Agents Brown and Jones entered the room but before they could proceed into the room, the displeased voice of their superior officer boomed out loudly, “Agent Brown, Agent Jones, have you forgotten we have a meeting with the Architect this morning? A place of business during office hours is not the place to conduct adolescent shenanigans like note-passing and gift giving!”

Smith strode angrily into the room and with a snarl, snatched up both bouquets of flowers and hurled them into the nearest wastepaper basket.

“Furthermore, I will not tolerate any interruption in the day-to-day operation of this building by any of its employees. Ms. Rodgers and Ms. Alvarez, you will not continue to fraternize with any of my agents in any way, shape or form. Is that clear?”

Lara’s lower lip trembled and she ducked her head so Smith would not see the angry tears that spilled from her eyes. Celia, however, met Smith’s gaze brazenly and did not break eye contact until he turned away. You prick, Celia thought, seething with anger, just because I wouldn’t sleep with you, you take your frustration of not getting laid out on those who have a relationship you can only dream about.

“Come with me,” he barked to Jones and Brown. Behind Smith’s back, Jones cast a regretful look at Lara before meeting Brown’s angry glance. A muscle twitched in Brown’s jaw and his hand clenched into a tight fist. Jones imperceptibly shook his head at his friend and the two senior agents glared at the retreating back of their superior.

“We’ll call you later. Take care of her for me until then,” Jones mouthed silently, indicating Lara with a jerk of his chin. Celia nodded her head, showing that she had understood as Jones and Brown hurried away.

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“Aw honey, don’t cry,” Celia said soothingly as she held Lara by the shoulders.

“But you heard Smith. We can’t even speak to Jones or Brown unless it’s in a professional capacity!” Lara managed to say in between sniffles.

Turning her much shorter friend to face her, Celia’s eyes sparkled with mischief. Conveying grim determination to defy Agent Smith’s so-called decree from on high, the spitfire Latina said, “Not if I have anything to say about it! Stick with me kid! Where there’s a will, there’s a way!”

With doubt flooding her system, Lara looked at her friend apprehensively. Shaking her head from side to side, Lara countered, “I don’t know, Celia. If we even look like we’re being friendly with our men, then we’ll get the boot for sure! Or worse yet, sent upstairs to face the old man and you know what that means if we do!”

Instead of getting upset at the probability of deletion by the Source, Celia simply smiled and pointed out to Lara, “Did you just hear yourself? You just called Brown and Jones ‘our men’!”

The sudden realization of her true feelings for Agent Jones hit Lara like freight train. “Oh my God,” she said in wonderment. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“It’s all the more reason to fight for our right to have a personal life and tell Smith where he can cram his ‘orders’!” Celia gently chided.

Lara nodded in agreement. As both women walked back to their respective workspaces, Ms. Rodgers infused with a new sense of verve, announced to her greatest co-conspirator, “C’mon girl we have to come up with a plan! But first things first.” Halting briefly by the waste receptacle, Lara scooped up their callously discarded bouquets. “I’m going to put these beauties in some much needed water!”

“Now that’s the spirit! I’ll go find a couple of vases to put the roses in. I think there still a few of those cheap plastic ones left over from the Christmas party in the storage closet,” Celia called out to Lara as she sashayed her way to said closet.

Fishing out her keys from the hiding place between her ample bosoms, Celia Alvarez fumbled around for a few moments until she found the right one that would open the door. Quickly she inserted the key, gave the knob a turn, and then made her way inside the stuffy storage facility. Flicking on the switch, she ceremoniously said, “And let there be light. Phew, it sure is filthy in here! Clearly the cleaning crew hasn’t been in here in a long while,” Celia declared to herself as she began to search for the plastic vases on the rows of dusty shelves. After a few minutes of rummaging around, her search proved fruitless. Giving up, Celia turned to leave when something on the far end of the closet caught her eye.

Compelled to investigate, Celia moved in deeper into the recesses of the closet. When she reached the other end, her eyes widened in surprise at what she found.

“Another door?” she asked as inquisitiveness got the better of her. Now what in the hell is another door doing here, I wonder. I’ve worked on this floor for the last eight years and as far as I know, there has only ever been one way in and one way out of this closet.

A series of recollections of having been in this particular closet in times past rushed through Celia’s memory banks. Not a single reminiscence revealed a second doorway to have ever existed in the cramped little space. Staring at the door, with her curiosity in overdrive, the desire to learn what lied on the other side had completely taken her over.

Trying the knob, she found much to her disappointment that entry way was locked tighter than a drum.

Damn!

Wait a sec, I am a key holder in this joint, Celia rapidly reminded herself. Aside from few sections that were off-limits for security reasons, Ms. Alvarez had been given a level three clearance when she had reached her fifth year of employment with the Agency. Along with receiving wall plaque commemorating her promotion she had also been authorized to carry a set of a keys that would allow her to access almost any room in the government building. Of course, the agents’ offices in conjunction with Architect’s were barred from her along with other key areas, but now she wondered if the prohibition extended to this forgotten doorway.

“Well there’s only one way to find out,” Celia said out loud. Reaching into her blouse, she pulled out her keys once more, but this time she didn’t need to take the time to find the correct one. Somehow, somewhere deep in her programming she knew which key to use. Taking a deep breath, she introduced it into the key hole and turned it.

Much to her surprise and excitement, the door was unlocked. Okey-dokey, here goes nothing, she thought to herself. Slowly opening the door, it gave way as Celia stepped inside. Almost immediately she was met by a light so brilliant, so bright it was almost blinding.

As her eyes were trying to adjust to their new environment, she was startled beyond belief when she heard a woman’s voice say, “Hello, Celia honey. I’m so glad you could come. Why don’t you sit down? Sorry I don’t have any blueberry scones to offer you, but I made a fresh batch of cookies. Would you like one?”

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Damn, where is that crazy girl, Lara wondered worriedly. It’s been ages since she went to look for something to put these flowers into.

Looking down at her wristwatch, she cursed silently when the timepiece established that her best friend, Celia had been absent from her cubicle for exactly twenty minutes.

With a ragged sigh, Lara did her best to look busy, but with each passing second, her sense of alarm was blossoming into full-blown panic.

I’m going to kill her when she gets back. I’ve been covering for her all this time, and the way that asshole Smith has been hovering over our desks like a Thanksgiving Day parade balloon; I don’t think I can keep up this charade much longer.

Lara had been right. Agent Smith for some reason had made his annoying presence known all morning, which was highly unusual for someone like him. If Smith was known for anything, it was the inescapable fact that he was a creature of habit. In fact, the head agent was so methodical and so highly predictable, that both she and Celia had committed his daily subroutines to memory.

Smith, for whatever reason, preferred to brood in the inner sanctum of his opulently decorated office for the better part of the workday. He considered most field assignments to be “grunt work” and as such, he delegated the most tiresome of tasks to the agents that worked under him, namely Agents Brown and Jones. The only times he would emerge from his self-imposed fortress of solitude was to carry out his duties on a high profile case, where he could assert a superior’s imposing presence and mug for the cameras of the news photographers.

And of course, there was his nightly ritual of selecting a fresh victim for his own perverse amusement.

Yes, that was Smith in a nutshell. A vain, self-absorbed bureaucrat, whose only source of pleasure is tormenting others, be it in the office or in the confines of his bedroom. A true sadist, a modern-day Marquis de Sade, thought Lara nastily.

What troubled her most was that Smith had broken out of his schedule to slink around the office in an almost predatory fashion, stopping by a cubicle or two to glare menacingly at its occupant before moving on.

As Lara continued to observe him, hazel green eyes narrowed in suspicion, she couldn’t help thinking to herself, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s looking for something. But what could it be?

Then suddenly when Agent Smith sharply turned and made a beeline in her direction, Lara’s heart leapt into her throat. That’s when it dawned on her, he’s not looking for something, he’s looking for someone.

Oh, God! He’s looking for Celia!

lllll

“Celia, I’m sorry sweetie. Did I frighten you?” said the warm voice with grandmotherly tones.

Now that her vision had grown accustomed to the lighting, Celia began to slowly make out shapes and images. Looking around she encountered what appeared to be an avocado green Kenmore refrigerator with multicoloured plastic magnetic letters sticking to the smooth metallic surface.

At first the letters looked like a happy little jumble of symbols that a child might have carelessly slapped onto the face of the cooling unit, but upon closer inspection, and much to Celia’s astonishment, the words “knowledge is power” were spelled out.

Unable to take her eyes off the face of the outdated fridge with its cryptic message for all to see, Celia finally found her voice and asked, “Where am I?”

“I believe that’s the question of the ages, my dear. Where are any of us? Are we really where we think we are, or are everything we see, touch and feel just a flight of fancy, an elaborate dream cooked up by the overactive synapses of our brains?”

O.K., this broad is really starting to piss me off, thought Celia. Fuming, she whirled around to confront the person that was trying to confuse her with mumbo-jumbo bullshit. “Now wait a goddamned minute, what the fuck does that…?

However not quite prepared for who she found, the sight of the elderly but stately African American woman seated at the kitchen table caused Celia to stop speaking in mid-sentence. As if struck by a lightening bolt, the Puerto Rican sexpot immediately dropped to her knees in a sign of reverence and respect.

Not daring to look up, Celia kept her head bowed as she said, “Oracle, I meant no disrespect. I-I didn’t know where I was and…”

Feeling a set of soft hands gently lift her up off the floor, Celia heard the Oracle say, “Don’t be silly! And please don’t genuflect on my account. For God’s sake, you make me feel like some holy relic. I’m just a program, just like you.”

When Celia finally up off the floor she was met by the kindest set of eyes that an AI dared to posses. Eyes so dark, they seemed fathomless, and yet radiated such pure joy Celia felt engulfed by it.

As she was being led through the small space Celia now recognized as the Oracle’s cozy kitchen, she was a bundle of nerves.

Her mind was racing with anxious thoughts, Jesus Christ; I’m in the presence of the most influential woman in the entire Matrix! Not even the great Persephone herself can hold a candle to the power the Oracle can wield with just one thought! Hell, if truth be told, she was the real power behind the Architect’s so-called throne. Without her, the father of the Matrix is a shadow of his former self.

“Yes, I know,” the Oracle replied quietly.

Stunned that the older woman had tapped into her thoughts it was all Celia could do not to stare dumbly at her with her mouth agape, but alas she failed miserably.

With a knowing little smirk the Oracle said, “Close your mouth dear, before you attract flies. You know very well that I can access a program’s files and download its thought patterns any time I wish through simple physical contact. The moment I helped you off my floor our minds were instantly connected.”

The Oracle’s words were meant to comfort her rattled guest, however judging from Celia’s erratic breathing and accelerated heartbeat, the poor girl seemed more on the verge of having an anxiety attack.

Celia vaguely noticed when she was quickly ushered into a chair. Then out of nowhere, it seemed, a glass of water was being handed to her.

“Here, drink this. It will make you feel better,” a male voice said to her.

Obediently, Celia began to gulp down the contents of the glass, closing her eyes as she did so. The cool soothing liquid moistened her lips and mouth as it went down her oesophagus easily, calming her nerves as it washed into her stomach.

Only after the last drop of water had been drained did Celia decide to open her eyes. She gasped when she saw the face of a friendly looking diminutive Asian gentleman wearing thick-lens glasses smiling at her.

“All better?” he asked, still smiling kindly.

Nodding slowly, Celia’s sensors made a quick scan of the man’s code to find out if he was friend or foe. Much to her relief the scan revealed that he was a program, although he was of an outdated design.

Then he spoke to her again, “I’m glad you are feeling better, Celia.”

“Who are you and how do you know my name?”

With a little chortle, he apologized, “Forgive me; I must have you at a disadvantage. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Brian Chen, but you may call me the Key Maker. Everybody does.”

“The Key Maker?” parroted Celia, not knowing what to make of all of this.

“Yes, that is his name, but it is also his purpose. Brian provides the keys that unlock the doors to endless possibilities. And together, my dear Celia, we are going to help you and your friend Lara discover the endless possibilities for you both,” the Oracle interjected. “But first, you must get back to the office as your friend is rapidly running out of excuses and your continued absence might get her into trouble. Don’t worry child, now that you know where to find me, come see me again and we can talk some more. We have a lot to discuss.” The Oracle smiled kindly as Celia forgot herself and curtsied to the older woman before exiting the door from whence she had come.

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“Where is Ms. Alvarez?” Smith demanded of Lara a short time later. He had not forgotten one detail of the overheard conversation between herself and Jones in the elevator. She had told Jones that she was afraid of Smith, and he intentionally made a point of invading her personal space until she had to shrink into her chair to get some distance between them.

He smiled humourlessly when she swallowed nervously and tried to think of something to say.

“If you cannot lie faster than that, Ms. Rodgers, I suggest you not even try. I know when someone is not telling me the truth and I am not leaving until you tell me where she is—now!” he barked, watching with satisfaction as Lara flinched in terror, her face white with fear.

“You are such a spineless, frightened little mouse, aren’t you?” Smith whispered, his voice low and scornful. “Afraid of everything and everyone, especially me. But I have no one else to blame for that but myself, I suppose. You know, I still remember our last one-on-one encounter in complete detail: how soft your hands were as they tried to fight me off. How your skin felt against mine. However, that was then and this is now. If you don’t answer my question, I promise you that you will regret crossing me. You already know how that feels, don’t you? But if you appease me, I can be very accommodating.” The last word was spoken almost like an endearment, a verbal caress.

“What do you mean?” Lara asked, her voice hoarse.

“If you tell me what I want to know, then I just might be persuaded to turn a blind eye to any fraternizing with Agent Jones. Every couple in a new relationship want to see as much of the other person as possible, no? Wouldn’t you like to be able to converse—or other things—during office hours without always looking over your shoulder to see if someone saw the two of you together?” he inquired and bent his tall frame so that his lips were almost touching Lara’s ear, his deep voice soft, coaxing and persuasive.

“Tell me, Lara, when Jones touches you, do you ever remember how my hands felt on your skin as I did the exact same thing?”

“Oh God,” Lara moaned, ice cold sweat breaking out from every virtual pore of her body.

“I see you remember,” Smith crooned lazily, “I cannot help but be touched by the exactness of your memory.”

Just tell him where Celia is, a part of Lara’s mind informed her. Tell him what he wants to know and he will leave you alone! Once he’s gone, you can go to Jones and hold him in your arms and forget everything whereas if you don’t do as Smith says, you won’t be able to see Jones until eight long hours from now.

More than anything, Lara wanted to be enveloped in Jones’ strong embrace and feel safe again. To feel him part her lips with his own and enjoy the exquisite sensation of his tongue against hers as passion erupted between them yet again…

“Well, Lara? What do you say to my proposal?” Smith asked, his close proximity and hot breath sending shivers down Lara’s spine but whatever her misgivings, Lara knew she would not take the easy way out and acquiesce to Smith’s request, however tempting.

“Agent Smith, I—” Lara broke off as the loud, strident tones of her friend broke the tension.

“Damn, girl,” Celia said boisterously, “I am so glad you had that extra maxi-pad in your purse today! My period started and you know how heavy my flow can be on the first day!” Celia tried without success to restrain the smile of glee on her face when Smith jerked himself upright and stalked out of the room, a look of supreme disgust on his face.