Work Text:
Sam came alone this time.
Alan had gotten a cold. Not knowing how that might translate once he was digitized, Alan didn't want to risk accidentally introducing a viral plague to The Grid the way the Europeans had the Native Americans. He would get through it. They might not.
It seemed Tron was alone as well. Beck and his friends were keeping busy installing upgrades to the garage that Roy had sent them from the other side. Once they were done in Argon, they were going to split up and share those upgrades with other cities.
“So, what is on our agenda today, Tron?” Sam skipped the formal greetings, a little bounce in his step as he walked through the digital arcade to meet Tron.
“You seem happier than usual.” Tron commented. “I hope you have the energy for our task.”
“Oof. Big one?”
Tron nodded, turning towards the doors. “Shaddox is still working on overhauling the arena to the new specs. However, the training fields are ready for use. You're going to get your first lessons.”
“Uh, pretty sure I'm not a beginner anymore.”
“You have very little experience, and the only thing great about your form is your footwork.” Tron pointed out. He felt it should have been obvious.
“Maybe because I'm used to Tae Kwan Do. It's more leg based.”
“Then you're either going to love capoeira or completely hate it.”
“Kappa what?” Sam had to jog to catch up with Tron on the way out of the arcade replica. He stopped short of the doors this time, already seeing the Recognizer waiting. Ever since his first visit, Sam had made it a point to avoid those things. “Oh no. No. No!”
“You can take the controls this time. Come on.” Tron grabbed Sam by the arm, pulling him along to board the ship.
…........................
“We're setting down over there,” Tron pointed to an open area to the left of the arena, just one landing zone away from the one Sam was forced into during his first visit. “It has a protective field we can use.”
Sam slowly worked the controls on the Recognizer, nervous about the whole thing. Somehow, he still managed to set them down roughly. “Hey, I'm not a pilot.”
Below them, a female Program was waving her hands and yelling at them. “What are you doing to my baby, Tron! I told you to be gentle with her! Do you know what I went through to clean out all the infected crap from this thing when I found it? Do you?!”
Tron bit his lip, smiling at Sam. “I don't do so good with these, either.”
Getting out, Tron took the smack to his shoulder without retaliation or telling her that it was actually Sam's fault the flying machine crunched a little. Feeling a bit sorry for him, Sam quietly turned around and put to use what he had learned from Dash screaming at him over lightcycles in Argon to mend the cracks. While Tron continued to get reamed out, someone else tapped the irate Program on the shoulder to point out the fact that the recognizer was suddenly good as new.
“Is this Beck, then?” she asked Tron with a huff.
“No, Kacee, this is Sam. Beck's friends have been-” Tron spun to follow her swift movement towards Sam.
Kacee held up a finger in Sam's face. “Who said you could touch my ride? I salvaged it. I'm the only one allowed to fix it! What is your designation, Program? Who do you report to?”
Sam fluctuated between terrified of her and amused. He felt like he was a little kid getting scolded by his grandmother. Tron had tried to introduce them, kind of, but she just didn't quite seem to understand who she was talking to. “Like Tron said, my name is Sam. And I answer to um... well pretty much nobody and everybody.”
“Oh, just what we need. Another independent Program.” Kacee rolled her eyes, put off. “Well, you can believe I'll be sending a report to the Users about your behavior as soon as I'm done finding all the flaws you left behind in my baby.”
Sam shrugged one shoulder. “Okay. Consider your report filed, sent, received, read, and deleted.”
“What?!” She screached. “You can't-!”
Sam held out a hand to her, giving her a cheeky grin. “Sam Flynn. Nice to meet you, Kacee.”
She spun on her heel, glaring at Tron.
He raised his hands up and shook his head. “I tried to tell you.”
She had nothing left to say to either of them as she brushed past Sam to inspect his repair job. Tron motioned for him to quickly follow and get out of Kacee's sights before she found anything else to complain about.
“Kacee is from ENCOM as well. She's been the army's head fleet mechanic since the army was first instituted. Able's teacher.” Tron explained as he pulled Sam to a lift that took them down to a set of courts next to the sea. “She maintained the tanks and recognizers for Sark in the old system. It's her only passion. She doesn't care who is in charge as long as her work continues and her vehicles are in perfect order. No real loyalties to anyone. I'm surprised she didn't try to derez you on sight.”
“Noted.” Sam relaxed a little until he realized that Tron had steered him into a translucent dome area.
Another figure appeared from the very center of the area, disc out and lunging for an attack. Startled, Sam drew his disc this time. Instead of blocking or counter attacking, though, he side stepped and let the figure run into the clear wall. As it hit, it disappeared.
“Good reflex time,” Tron commented. “In here, Programs face one another or simulations. Don't be fooled, the simulations will feel real, but the damage they do is not. When the round or the session is ended, any artificial damage done is lifted. This applies to any damage done Program to Program as well. It will work for you the same as it does us. The only lasting effects you will have are energy drain and knowledge gain. When I send another simulation, I want to see you actually fight it. Then, you will step back and watch me.”
Sam gave a nod, prepared this time. He didn't have to worry about getting his ass kicked by Tron, and he didn't have to feel bad about hitting a Program. This was pretty good for in his opinion. If he could have something like this back home, it would see a lot of use.
The next figure came up. Sam started to get ready, but was thrown off when Tron reached in and plucked his disc away. Before he could react, the disc was on his back again.
“No weapons for now.”
Sam pointed at the simulation. “He's armed!”
“I know. Begin.”
“Oh fuck!” Sam had to duck fast, spinning around to get behind the simulation.
He reached for his disc, only to find that it was locked in place. The simulation came at him again, this time with a kick aimed for his chest. Cussing all the way, Sam stepped to the inside of the attacker's leg, spinning again to come around with a backfist to his opponent's head. He followed it with a right hook, then a right knee to the chest, followed by a shuffle side to the gut all in rapid succession. The simulation fell to the floor and disappeared.
“That was no fair!” Sam complained loudly to Tron. “You locked my disc!”
Tron sighed, moving up beside him. “Step back and watch me now.”
Sam did as he was told, even if he really didn't want to. Tron locked his own disc before calling up another simulation. He did not side-step the first attack. Not exactly. He crouched, spinning for a leg sweep aimed at the knees. The opponent hopped over his foot. Tron's hands hit the floor as he brought his right leg around in a circular motion, catching the simulation on the throat, pulling down on the shoulder with his heel, and then flipping out of the way to come around with another twirling kick with his right leg, switching directions seamlessly as he brought his left leg and foot down on the simulation's hip and back.
When the simulation disappeared, Tron stood again. “That was capoeira. Now, watch what happens when you mix the two styles.”
A third simulation appeared. Tron danced on the balls of his feet, more upright and straightforward about his first attack, a simple punch. When that connected, though, he had his other hand on the simulation's chest as a brace to flip over him and end up in a hand stand. From there, he did not continue forward movement, but bent to the side fluidly, spinning around to make another low leg sweep. As his spin ended, though, he came up with an uppercut under the jaw to knock the simulation off balance again. That was followed with a sturdy forward thrust, and another spin away before the simulation could connect a counter attack. Tron dropped this one with an elbow to the back of the head.
“I taught Beck Tae Kwan Do and Judo. Didn't have the time or energy to get into Capoeira.”
Sam was impressed all over again. “How many styles do you know?”
“Those and traditional Jiu-jitsu are my favorites to mix.” Tron avoided answering the question directly.
“How did you learn all of that?” Sam wondered out loud. “Did Alan give it to you, or...?”
“I picked them up by watching others and sparring with them. Alan One wrote me a style that more resembles kick boxing.” Tron informed. “I already knew the basics of a lot of what I have learned since then. The others are beta-play compared to the mixture I've come up with. Alan One said it looked like something called Krav Maga.”
“Then that's what I want you to teach me.” Sam decided on the spot.
“Good.” Tron unlocked his disc, but not Sam's. “It includes unarmed defense against weapons. Ready for a small test?”
…....................................................
“You're improving fast.” Tron commented as he and Sam left the training fields at a slow pace. This was their fifth session.
“Doesn't feel like it,” Sam groaned, still a bit sore from their last training session. The pain may have gone away instantly, but the fatigue certainly didn't. “You stepped it up on me.”
“I did.” Tron agreed, then slowed down to really look Sam over. “You're low on energy. You still have half a millicycle before you have to go or contact Quorra.”
“Yeah, I...” Sam scratched at the back of his head, “I kinda wanted to explore a little this time.”
“The city or the Outlands?”
“The city.” Sam stopped moving, fingering the lightcycle baton on his thigh thoughtfully. “If I'm going to keep making things better, I need to know what's lacking. I need to know what Programs have, what they don't have, what they want, what they don't want. I can't do that sitting still. I want to go out and meet more people, observe. Is there a place where all kinds of Programs gather?”
“I was headed there myself.” Tron smirked at him, grabbing his baton. “Follow me. We can get energy while we're there. You need it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Sam was more lazy about hopping on to his ride. Tron had to slow down to let him catch up. As Sam followed, he let his eyes and his mind wander. Traffic was picking up, not just for the millicycle, but in general. He and Alan had fully repaired and replaced three cities so far. Word was getting out, and the Programs were coming back. Sam knew they'd have to get a move on the rest of it soon, or the areas they had worked on would be over crowded in days. At least most of the faces he saw were smiling, even when they didn't know they were being watched.
The ride wasn't as long as Sam anticipated. That was a good thing. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stay upright without a nap or something. When Tron stepped off on the side of the road, Sam followed and placed his lightcycle baton on his leg, almost dropping it.
“Drink this in one shot, then slowly take this one.” Tron instructed after bringing a small tray of drinks over to the table they claimed upon entry.
There were two shot glasses filled with cloudy green liquid, two margarita glasses with little umbrellas with a purple substance, and two tall, plain glasses of what seemed to be the same form of liquid energy Sam always had during his previous visits.
“Finish with this,” Tron pointed to the two tallest glasses. “The small ones are called lightning chargers. They burn a little, but wake you up fast. The medium ones, called petals, are to ease any lingering aches and can ease the mind. The tall ones are the purest, straight energy they have to offer, to replentish extra stores and have a lasting effect.”
“Heh,” Sam picked up one of the green glasses, “sounds like my last date. You're just missing one part... the empty bed in the morning.”
“Date?” Tron slid into the booth across from him, going for a sip from the tall glass instead of following his own instructions. “What's that?”
“When two people who are interested in one another go out and do stuff together, usually drinking, dancing, getting dinner, or watching a movie or something. Sometimes it ends... intimately.” Sam explained, downing the shot.
It burned and tasted exactly as it looked, seriously sour, kind of like a crab apple, but with a heat Tron warned him of but he still did not expect. He slammed the glass on the table, wishing he could remove the taste and never experience it again. The tall glass wasn't going to help, so he tried the purple one. One big mouthful later, he knew why Tron suggested following the green one with this. It was sweet, but not sickening, a much lighter, almost flowery taste that could wash away the sour without being overwhelming. Sam didn't care that it was purple and had an umbrella. It was good, damn it.
“So, this would count as a date?” Tron raised a brow at him.
Sam almost spit out his second sip of the purple drink. He swore some of it got in his nose anyway. Swallowing hard, he answered frantically, “Friends do all that stuff, too. Dating is to get to know the person you're romantically or sexually interest in better. It's kind of a test to see if you're compatible for living together more permanently.”
“I think I understand.” Tron leaned on the table between them, propped up on his elbows. “I'm not sure what sex is, though.”
“Uh,” Sam suddenly wanted to look anywhere but at Tron. This wasn't the kind of conversation he expected to have here, with this Program, ever. “It's um... it's a physical form of affection. Some people do it for fun, and others do it only with the person they love the most. Gotta be careful with it, because that's also how little Users are made.”
“There are ways to avoid that part. Yes?”
“A few, yeah.” Sam took another, careful sip of the purple drink. “Quorra is having a hard time with the fact that she can have kids now.”
Tron's eyes dimmed a little as he sat up, leaning against the back of the booth. He kept his purple drink close to his chest, guarded again. “So, you two are...?”
“No.” Sam answered quickly, playing with the little umbrella in the drink, swishing around the frozen mixture with interest. “She's just interested in learning about reproduction right now. We're not like that.”
“She lives with you,” Tron reminded flatly.
“Actually, she's moved in with Roy. He's a pack rat, and she absolutely loves all the little treasures he's got hidden everywhere.” Sam smiled, thinking about the first time Quorra discovered a four-leaf clover pressed into an Edgar Allan Poe collection. “He's got an extra bed, so it works out. He sees her like a daughter... um... like someone he created. I think she's actually helping him get organized. He loves teaching her things about our world Dad never got around to. She likes having someone who needs to be looked after.”
Tron understood that. As much as he could do things on his own, it felt better to have a mutual give and take relationship with someone else, someone dependable. He wondered how Sam was doing without someone else, though. “That leaves you alone. Doesn't it?”
“Well, I have Marvin, my dog.” Sam gave him a weak smile. “I just... It's hard to trust anyone enough to live with them. Most of my dates turned bad the moment they found out who I was. Some of them just wanted a high profile notch on their bedpost to brag about later. They didn't care about me. So I quit caring, too. I can go out and get what I need when I need it, but I'm never taking anyone home again.”
“I understand,” Tron leaned back on the table again, sipping at his drink. He didn't fully understand everything said, but he got the idea of it. “It was that way for me after I lost Yori. I didn't want another counterpart, but needs are needs. After... after the initial attack, I was too damaged. Once I was healed, there was no time. It would have been a stupid idea to get that close to anyone during the Uprising. I was close to someone, though, long before I realized it. It got him killed. We weren't romantic, and he wasn't even the target. As Rinzler, no one wanted to try to get close to me. I didn't have the desire to get close with anyone...”
“And after that?” Sam prompted when Tron trailed off. “Now?”
“Now?” Tron shifted, uneasy. “Now my options are limited, but I think I could try again. I have an attraction to someone, but I believe they may be out of my reach. We're very... different in some ways.”
“What?” Sam laughed, shocked. “How different are we talking? Scratch that. Who could possibly be out of your league around here? You out-class everyone else.”
Tron plucked the umbrella from his drink and flicked it at him. Sam caught it in his hand, adding it to his own drink before taking another sip. He watched as the Program across from him showed mixed emotions, sad eyes, a slight smile on his lips.
“Not everyone, Sam.” Tron answered, his voice just barely audible over the music. Sam still couldn't place where the speakers were. “Not everyone.”
“Do me a favor,” Sam smiled at him, taking another sip of his drink. Tron leaned in a little closer again, earnestly listening. “Promise me it isn't Alan.”
“No!” Tron leaned back fast, eyes wide, disgusted with the thought. “I could never be attracted to my own creator like that! That would be like... as if you and Flynn... No, Sam. Not him.”
“Okay, good,” Sam relaxed again, laughing slightly. The thought crossed his mind that he was smiling and laughing a lot now, but it passed quickly. “You had me worried there for a moment. So... are we going to play twenty questions until I figure it out? You know that game, right?”
“I'm familiar with twenty questions.” Tron fidgeted again, suddenly gulping down the rest of his purple drink. “If it takes you more than five, I will have to re-consider my assessment of your processing capabilities. You've surprised me before.”
“Alright, we'll start simple.” Sam hunched over the table, watching Tron's face for clues. “Is it a male or a female?”
“Male.”
Tron's answer surprised Sam, but he rolled with it anyway. “How often do you interact?”
“About four times a cycle, one to two millicycles at a time.”
Sam's eyes narrowed on Tron. There were only two people he knew of that fit the bill for that one, but there could be more out there that he just hadn't met yet. “What city does he live in?”
“I believe it is called Center City, California.”
“Tron...” Sam's tone changed, annoyed. “That means the whole Grid. You already know that.”
Tron sighed, grabbing his tall glass for another sip. “I'll give you a free one, then. I first met him in The Games, in the final round. He was the most hapless Program I had ever seen end up there, until he wasn't.”
“Crouching moron hidden badass?” Sam smiled, thinking back to their first meeting. Tron had likely had a few similar encounters. “I might like the guy already. You might have some competition for him.”
Tron winked at him. “I did not realize you were also attracted to males.”
“I like both, but I like guys better.” Sam said, then realized what was happening. “Nice diversion, but I still want to find out who he is. Back on task, Program.”
“Caught,” Tron held up his hands, grin widening. “I do need to re-evaluate my assessments of you.”
“When are you due to meet him again?” Sam ignored the comment and got to his next question.
“That depends on him.” Tron sobered up. “It may never happen again after this conversation. Because... when you figure it out, it will certainly end our relationship as it stands. I may never see him again.”
“He's worried about my opinion?”
“He isn't. I am.”
“Tron... if he plays you for a fool, I'm going to fuck him up on both sides of the screen.” Sam's assurance was a direct warning. “You know I'd do that for you, right? I won't let someone use you to gain their own fame and walk away. You're my friend... I think.”
“We are friends, and I would do the same for you if given the chance. You... I don't want you to think that I am loyal to you just because of your father and Alan One. You mean a lot to me, Sam, just as you are, even if you're sometimes a hapless moron.”
“Tron.”
“Hmm?”
“Are you flirting with me?”
Tron backed up again, guarded once more. “There is... a distinctly high probability of that.”
Sam stayed leaned over the table, face unreadable. “So you did bring me here for a date.”
“I brought you here to relax and get your energy levels back up.” Tron set his glass down, crossing his arms over his chest as he peered down at Sam. “Alan One was very upset with me the last time you returned home in your previous state. Also, I hoped you would like the atmosphere. RoyK said this was very close to a typical club or lounge found in your city.”
Sam leaned back, mirroring Tron with a slight tilt of his head. “And you did that because...? Because you wanted to be a good friend and make me more comfortable? Or did you want to make me more comfortable because you could sneak in some flirting easier if I was relaxed?”
Tron's eyes closed, lips pouting a little. “I get it. The rejection is noted. I will stop.”
“I'm not rejecting you, Tron,” Sam stated gently. Tron's eyes opened again, blue meeting blue with wariness. “I'm just surprised. I didn't mean to be so rude. I just... I never expected it, and... there are some things I need to figure out before I can accept or decline.”
“That usually meant no with Flynn.”
“I know.” Sam groaned, rolling his eyes as he thought about it. “I mean, it's the same way with Alan. Something about their generation, I think. Maybe is always a no to them. But it's not that way for me. Promise. Maybe is maybe. I actually have to think about it. I mean you... you're only a few years older than me, but you're a fuck ton more cycles older. I bet you've thought long and hard about it before making your move. Am I right?”
Tron nodded slowly. “It was a significant risk. I'm not sure I made the right decision.”
“I'll give you my answer when I come back next time.”
Tron felt Sam's leg bump into his under the table, a friendly, assuring gesture. It did little to lift his spirits in the moment.
“I will come back on schedule.” Sam told him. “For now, I think I'd like another one of these purple things. It really is good. Thank you for introducing me to it.”