Most would assume that once freed from machines, I'd be against working for them. Well, I've no such qualms. I've found that being neutral is sometimes the only way to get the full picture. I may be biased toward Zion, but that doesn't stop me from taking work from the Machines. Sometimes, though very rarely, even the Merovingian.

There's always something in the Matrix to make life interesting...

Rain poured from the sky, the darkness of night blanketing the city. Merchant sprinted across the rooftop, water splashing with each step as he leapt off the edge. He soared, closing the gap between buildings as he landed on another. This was the spot, now the waiting. His cell began to ring, flipped open after the first instinctually.

"Mr. Archer, I have a mission for you."

"I'm listening." Merchant's tone was calm, unchanging. He brushed through his soaked hair casually.

"Downtown, Club Janus. I'll be waiting."

Merchant shut the cell, placing it back in his pocket. He leapt off the roof, disappearing into the night. There was work to be done.

-----------

Club Janus buzzed with the normal nightlife, mostly comprised of the upper class. The main elevator let out a ding, Merchant stepping through as the doors slid open. He moved calmly to a private room across the way, shutting the doors after entering.

"Agent Gray," Merchant said, moving toward the figure sitting in the corner. "Always a pleasure."

"We meet again, Mr. Archer." Agent Gray stood from his seat, moving toward him. "Can I interest you in some refreshments?"

"No thanks." Merchant drew a cigarette pack from his coat, placing one in his mouth. He lifted his lighter, covering the flame as he lit the smoke. "You mind?"

"Not at all, Mr. Archer." Agent Gray's composure remained unchanged, Merchant's reflection clear as day in his sunglasses. "Though it is a bad habit."

"Not like it'll kill me." Merchant let out a slight chuckle. "Here anyway. I'd never touch the things outside, but in here it makes my mind think it's relaxing." He took another drag. "Say, there's something I never understood, that calling us by our last names. Couldn't you call me Merchant?"

"We are programmed for formalities," Agent Gray replied, clearing his throat. "But pleasantries aside, there is a mission for you."

"I'm listening." Merchant eagerly awaited the details, though his tone masked it.

"You've proven yourself reliable in the past." Agent Gray pulled a file from his coat, handing it over. "It was agreed that a neutral party should handle this assignment. A Merovingian spy recently managed to steal sensetive data pertaining to one of our Agents. We'd like it recovered before it can be put to use. It was felt that your previous dealings with them made you the most suitable candidate."

"And what makes you think I won't keep it?" Merchant glanced over the file before placing it in his coat, taking another drag. "Maybe turn it over to Zion Intelligence?"

"Because you respect the truce, Mr. Archer." Agent Gray straightened out his suit, preparing to leave. "You would not do anything to jeopardize it so needlessly."

"So true Agent Gray, so true." Merchant crushed the cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "I'll contact you when I have the data."

"It would be greatly appreciated. Goodbye, Mr. Archer." Agent Gray moved past him, stepping through the doors.

"Well now," Merchant said to himself, "this should be interesting."

----------------

The dock was mostly abandoned, a single car beside the water, a woman beside it. Merchant approached her cautiously, taking in the surroundings with a quick glance.

"Merchant, Merchant...I didn't expect to be hearing from you." Her tone was cold, a glare in her eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint love." Merchant stood before her, looking her over once. "You're not still mad are you?"

"Now why would I be upset?" Her arms crossed, eyes locked on him. "Maybe because you stole a certain artifact from the Merovingian? More importantly from me?"

"Well in all honesty, I did help you steal it first. The Machines just wanted it back." He attempted a sarcastic grin, but to no avail.

"I was almost deleted because of you." Her eyes didn't wander, a cold stare directed at him.

"Okay okay, look I'm sorry." He paused for a moment, a dramatic pause before continuing. "So did you bring what I asked for?"

"You never change..." She let out a sigh with the rolling of her eyes. "Did you bring your part of the bargain?"

"Don't I always?" He drew a disk from inside his coat, tossing it to her. "Now your half?"

"In the trunk." She pressed down on her keychain, the trunk clicking open. "See for yourself."

"Don't mind if I do." Merchant paced slowly around the car, watching her every move. His hand gripped the trunk, lifting it open as he looked down. "Oh that's not nice."

The explosion sent Merchant flying back into the water, sinking quickly upon the rough impact. His eyes shot open instinctively, clawing for the surface. The water parted as he emerged, shaking the confusion away as he coughed. Taking his time, he began to swim back toward the dock. Reaching in his coat, he pulled out a cell phone.

"Are you tracing it," he asked into the receiver.

"Loud and clear, Merchant."

"Contact me when you get an address." He slipped the cell phone back into his coat, letting out a sigh. "I really need to work on those communication skills." With a slight chuckle he was off again, leaping onto the roof of a nearby building. Work was calling.

----------------

The silence in the living room was interrupted by a quick knock at the door. One of the guards looked over to the woman sitting on the couch, waiting for guidance.

"Natasha?" The guard stared blankly, awaiting an order.

"Check who it is." She went back to sorting data on her laptop, ignoring the guard completely.

"I don't see anyone," the guard replied, looking through the peephole.

"Do a quick perimeter sweep." Her words were distracted, focused on the task before her. The decryption was complete. "Son of a..."

The guard was tackled as he opened the door, Merchant rolling back onto his feet. He closed in, grabbing the wrist as they threw a punch, twisting and slamming into the wall.

"Miss me?" Merchant let out a slight grin.

"Hardly," Natasha replied, turning the laptop toward him. 'Hi' was displayed in large font, a series of numbers forming the overall shape.

"I see you got my message." Merchant chuckled slightly, interrupted by another guard coming down the stairs. He charged him, grabbing hold of his arm before he could reach for a weapon. Twisting with both hands he flipped the guard onto his back, knocked unconscious. He drew a pistol from his coat with fluid precision, pointing it at Natasha before she could reach for her own.

"Going to shoot me now?" She leaned back into the couch.

"Thinking about it." He circled, pistol locked on her.

"Since when do you use guns?" Her tone was mocking, still eyeing him.

"Can't very well hit a lady now can I? But shooting..." He reached for her laptop with his other hand, closing it gently. "Shooting is a fair fight. Going to tell me what I need to know?"

"No." Her eyes rolled at him slightly before fixing back in a gaze. "But the disk will. I downloaded some specifics."

"Well thank you love." He retrieved the disk from the drive, placing it back in his coat. Slowly he stepped back to the door, pistol still trailed on her. "We're even now. I'm letting you go, out of the kindness of my heart naturally."

"You are not, you still need a contact." Natasha leapt from the couch, rolling to the side as she drew a pistol in unison. She squeezed off a few shots in Merchant's direction, striking the door that was slammed shut as he retreated.

"Thank you," Merchant shouted with a smile, waving through the window. And then he was gone.

----------------------

The interior of the bar was dimly light, none present except for the bartender. Merchant took a seat at the bar, lighting a cigarette. He took a quick drag, exhaling calmly.

"Been a while." The bartender focused on him, placing a shot on the bar. "Still drink vodka?"

"Always." He downed the shot, reaching into his coat after. A disk was retrieved, handed over to the bartender. "I need a decryption."

"It'll be a few. Why not just change your loadout?" The bartender opened a cupboard on the other side, popping the disk into a terminal.

"I'd rather not lose the combat." He took another drag, turning the empty glass upside down in amusement. "Could be ambushed. Plus it gives an excuse to visit."

"Ah," the bartender replied sarcastically. "Likely story."

"I tried." Merchant let out a slight grin. "Sentimentality always escaped me. Even as a kid."

"Yes I recall." Another shot was placed on the bar, the bartender taking a glance at the terminal. "It's on the house."

"Much obliged." He downed another shot, following it with a drag.

"Still working for Zion?" Curiosity filled the bartender's voice.

"Machines." Merchant stacked the empty glass on top of the other. "Crew wanted a change. War ended, didn't see a problem. Then I took a leave."

"What if the truce fails?" The bartender reached down, tapping a few buttons on the terminal.

"Humanity would become priority." Merchant relaxed slightly, cigarette extinguished on the bar. "Funny how that works."

"Still objective as ever." A few more taps on the terminal followed the bartender's words. "Didn't you ever want more? What are you looking for?"

"What do I want in life?" Merchant grabbed another cigarette, flicking a lighter open as he covered the flame with his hand. "True love. Prosperity." He took a quick drag, thinking about it for a moment. "A cat."

"Sarcastic **bleep**." The bartender shook his head, laughing slightly at his old friend.

"I try." Merchant laughed as well, letting out a deep breath. "So is life."

"Well, decryption is done." The bartender withdrew the disk from the terminal, handing it over. "I'll see you around."

"Likewise." Merchant slipped the disk back into his coat, bowing his head. "Take care, old friend." With that he left, moving swiftly through the doors. He had an address, now time would tell.

--------------------

Deathly silence filled the conference room, three guards standing by the door with machine guns. The weapons rested before their waists, listening for the smallest sign of intrusion. The window shattered instantly as Merchant repelled through, Uzi in hand.

"Bad time?" Merchant opened fire, a hail of bullets dispatching the guards before they could react. He unclipped the harness on his belt, moving toward the door. It burst open before him, stopping his path. He dove to the side, a fresh wave of gunfire dodged.

"Get him!"

Three more charged in, Merchant moving swiftly as he grabbed the first. He wasted no time, turning him to face the other two. They opened fire, bullets piercing the improvised shield. Quickly Merchant pushed the body into the guards, interrupting the gunfire.

A few moments was all he needed. He reached for the closest guard, pulling their arm over his shoulder. In a fluid motion he pulled down, snapping the arm in two before sending his elbow into their face. Charging forward he grabbed the other guard by the wrist, pulling him forward. Spinning behind him he locked his arms around his neck, snapping it with a forceful move. There was complete silence.

"Seemed easy enough." Merchant stepped through the doors, a single laptop resting on the only furniture in the room, a small desk. He approached cautiously, stopping before it as he drew a disk from it.

"Tee-hee!" An animated dolphin swam onto the screen, waving it's flipper. "Bye!"

"That's funny!" Merchant took a moment to laugh, then ran for the nearest window. He dove through it, the flames of an explosion following. Falling a dozen floors he collapsed into a dumpster, letting out a groan as he landed on several bags of trash. "And that...was not."

He crawled out of the dumpster, dropping to his feet. Sighing, he began to move toward the nearest hardline. Rest was calling.

------------------

There was no rest for the weary, nor the wicked. Heavy music filled the club, lights flashing over the dance floor. Dozens danced in the dark atmosphere, all seeming to part as a woman paced between them on the dance floor. The woman in red.

She was voluptuous, a tight red outfit to match the fiery hair. All a man could want, yet leaving them wanting more as she looked on. From all except Merchant. Neon flashes reflected off his shades as he gazed, cigarette in hand as he stood at the bar.

Time seemed to slow, the smoke he exhaled drifting at an almost frozen pace. The woman in red moved closer, stopping before him.

"A surprise," Merchant said calmly. "Been a while."

The woman in red edged closer.

"They'll see," he remarked.

"Jammed..." The woman in red pressed against him. "For an hour or so."

"Really now..." He leaned in.

"Yes..." Her lips met his. A smile widened on both, lips touching gently. An hour would do.

----------------

Darkness filled the room, Merchant sitting up from the bed. He slipped off the sheets, reaching for clothing that had been discarded earlier. The light flicked on, turning toward the bed as he finished slipping on his pants. A hand rested on the lamp switch, reaching from underneath the sheets. She wrapped the covers around her body, sitting up.

"Leaving so soon?" Her fingers gently brushed back the fiery bangs of her hair.

"Yeah." He continued with his shirt, followed by the coat drapped over a nearby chair. "Almost been an hour."

"There's still time," she replied, watching.

"You know there isn't." A quick smile was thrown her way.

"I know." She stretched eagerly, a smile returned to him.

"You look well though." He turned, starting to move toward the door.

"Wait," she interrupted. "Why did you leave?"

"Ah..." He faced her, letting out a sigh. "Sometimes you just need to get away. Deep inside you know that you're not content with the way things are. It wasn't my style, I'm a loner by trade. I never minded teaching others, but being responsible for them afterward always bothered me."

"Will you come back?" Her tone was inquisitive.

"You'll manage. Soon enough." He avoided with a smile, slipping through the door. The hour had passed.