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Once Again	By : betrayedsuccubus Category: M through R > Matrix, The (All) > Matrix, The (All) Views: 1723 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Matrix universe, I do not own The Matrix or any of its content unfortunately. I don't make any money off of this, it's just for fun and because I can't get it out of my head.

Chapter List
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Following the incident losing the key maker The Twins have been kept on a short leash by The Merovingian. However, when they spot a new singer at one of his clubs they decide they are due for a little fun, but what effect will she have on them?
The Matrix universe, I do not own The Matrix or any of its content unfortunately. I don't make any money off of this, it's just for fun and because I can't get it out of my head.
This is my first fanfiction ever so please please leave a comment, any comment, even if you hate it comment.
Note:The first song lyrics referenced is Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones, I am specifically referencing the Ciara cover that I highly recomend you listen to to set the mood. The second song lyrics referenced is In The Air Tonight by Phil Collins, the cover I am referencing is by In This Moment. I do not own the songs, lyrics, or covers and I am not associated in any way with the artists.
Once again, they found themselves in one of the Merovingian’s many clubs. This one was mercifully quieter than Hel; more of an upscale establishment. The Merovingian was dining with another empty-headed girl, letting him paw at her under the table.
Two sighed, turning to One, emphasizing his words by choosing to say them out loud.
“We are bored”
“Yes, we are.” He is punishing us for losing the keymaker. One shifts slightly in his immaculate suit to watch the side door. He has not given us any real jobs since then. Two mirrors his brother, but looking toward the front door from the balcony they are seated at. Just forced us to sit idle. It is the worst form of torture.
The Merovingian has pulled the girl onto his lap now and she is giggling too loudly for it to be genuine. The noise is irritating. We were meant to destroy, not for this. One emphasizes the last word, and flicking an imagined piece of dirt from his sleeve.

“Mmmm….mm…mm…mmmm…mm…mm...mmmm…….I see a red door… I want it painted black.” The voice intones over the clubs speakers. Thrumming through the air and their bodies, seemingly reverberating in their very coding. “No colors anymore… I want them to turn black.” Both Twins turn to the stage below. A single figure is standing at the microphone. She is dressed in a tight black velvet dress, with a short tight skirt and long fitted sleeves, black suede boots come up to the middle of her thigh, leaving just a strip of pale skin visible. “I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes, I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.” Her hair is long and dark brown, possibly black, falling over her shoulders in waves.
We are not bored anymore. Two looks at One with the beginning of an devilish grin tracing his lips. No, we are not. One matches his look. It had been a while since they had taken a girl, since before the incident with the keymaker. One flipped his razor open and closed; it had not tasted blood in a long time. They watch her sway gently as she sings, “I look inside myself and see my heart is black.” What do we think? Two eyes her up and down We already know what we think; she is perfect. They watch her with growing interest and when the music finished a new song comes over the speakers. “I can feel it, comin in the air tonight…” They rise as one and walk over to stand in front of the Marovingian, who is now fully engaged in kissing the blonde girl on his lap. They clasp their hands behind their backs and wait He eventually acknowledges them “vat is it, can’t you see I'm busy?” he says angrily, gesturing to the girl.
“We would like the rest of the night off.” Says One.
“Ze night off? Why in ze world would you want ze night off?” Two turns to give a long look to the girl on the stage. “Oh no, out of ze question, do you know ow hard it iz to replace a good zinger? I just found her!” Two turns back to face the Merovingian
“You have not given us a break in a month.” The blond girl is kissing his neck and he is looking distracted
“Why not give them the night off baby?” she says in an obnoxious voice “Let them have a fun night too.” She whispers in his ear.
“Fine, get out ov ere, but you owe me my new zinger.” He says distractedly as the girl nibbles on his ear. The two pale figures waste no time in exiting the balcony through the back stairway and making their way through the hallways to the back of the stage. There they watch her for the rest of the night, hidden in the shadows like twin hyenas, with twin smirks on their faces. The hunt was on.
The night had been a long one; somehow this set had been more tiring than usual. It was my first big gig, and I was nervous all day. This was my big break; if I messed this up I wouldn’t get a second chance. It seemed like it had gone well, the diners had applauded as I left the stage and I was still riding high on the feeling that this gig and it’s enormous paycheck might become a regular thing. I got a weird feeling like I was being watched, but pushed it away as pre-show jitters colliding with post-show euphoria and tiredness. I made my way down the hall past the doors to the kitchen and into my dressing room. The room was small, just a makeup table with a mirror, a chair, and a couch against the other wall as well as a mini fridge with water. I flopped onto the couch and reached back over my head to get a bottle out of the fridge. Nobody tells you this but stage lights are hot as hell, and singing under them makes you parched. I like to rehydrate before heading home, usually places like this have fancy water as opposed to my city tap water at home. I lean back on the pillow and sigh, everything in me still buzzing from the adrenaline. A sharp knock sounds at my door and I shoot up, my feet swinging back onto the floor; heels making a click.
“Come in.” I call. Readjusting so I look more professional, and less like I had just been lounging on the couch. The door opens and two figures step into the small space. They’re dressed in identical white and silver suits, with long coats and dark sunglasses, even though it’s night and the club is dark. I had seen them with the Merovingian. This was it; I was getting fired after just one night. I had such high hopes for this job; it was my big break, but here I was about to get fired by the boss’s gorgeous bodyguards.
“We enjoyed your performance tonight.” Says one of them, revealing no emotion to affirm this statement.
What? Was I not getting fired? Were they seriously just here to tell me they liked the show?
“What?” I say, sounding a lot stupider than I had intended. The second one has closed the door behind him and the first turns the chair from the dressing table around to face me on the couch. He sits with all the grace of a dancer.
“We enjoyed your singing.”
“We would like to show you our appreciation.” The one who is standing in front of the door says. It feels partially like he’s guarding it, and partially like he’s keeping me from leaving. They’re both gorgeous, and I really wanted to go along with whatever they had in mind, but my rational mind kept breaking in. I had heard the waitresses talking; they were dangerous.
“I’m flattered, but it’s really late, and I need to head home.” I say pulling over my short leather jacket from the back of the couch and starting to put it on.
“Oh no” says the one sitting across from me, stopping me from pulling on my other sleeve.
“We must insist.” Says the other one, gently pulling my jacket off from my other side and folding it over his arm neatly.
“Come have a drink with us on the balcony.” He says, extending his hand. It isn’t a request. I gingerly give him my hand. I am fairly pale, but my hand feels positively dark in his. A tingle runs down my neck at his touch, like the feeling you would get in a room with a tiger, fear, but a feeling of being alive, of hyper awareness. They lead me back past the kitchen doors. I can see two of the waitresses with wide eyes staring at me: a dark clad figure lead by two silent ghosts. We make our way up a set of stairs and onto the balcony. The whole time I am wracking my brain wondering what I did to garner this level of interest. Yes, they were supposed to be dangerous, but despite that they could have had any woman in this place. The balcony is deserted; the twin in front of me indicates a smaller side table in an alcove, pulling out the middle chair for me. I sit and they both sit down with perfect synchronicity on either side of me.
“This is your first night here?” says the twin to my left.
“Yes, I only got the job three days ago.” I say, turning toward him a bit.
“Then we have to celebrate.” Says the one to my right, forcing me to turn back around. They seem to enjoy keeping me on edge, I can only truly see one of them at once. As if by magic a waiter appears.
“Two martini’s, and the lady will have?” the second twin looks at me.
“ A tequila sunrise please.” I say. The waiter nods silently and leaves.
“I don’t believe we have the pleasure of your name.” says the twin to my left, almost whispering it in my ear. I jump at the proximity making smiles flit across both of their faces.
“And I don’t know yours, so we’re even.” I say, doing my best to look coy. If they want to play games, I can play games too.
“We asked first.” Says the one to my right. I feel the twin on my left take a strand of my hair and gently wrap it around his finger, sending chills down my spine.
“Pandora.” I say, cursing myself for giving in so easily.
“We are One.” Says the one to my right.
“and we are Two.” Says the one to my left, now running the back of his hand ever so gently down the side of my neck and ghosting over the top of my collarbone. I have to consciously keep myself from shivering under his touch.
“It sounds like all of our parents had weird ideas about names then.” I say dryly.
“You’re named for the first woman created by the gods, who was beautiful and cunning.” Says Two.
“But released misery onto the world.” Finishes One. He reaches for his martini on the tray the waiter has brought. He hands me my drink as well, and when our fingers brush there is a feeling like electricity. I feel a flush in my cheeks and I’m happy for the pretense of sipping my drink so that I don’t have to try to say anything witty. They both don’t take their eyes off me, except to once in a while share a glance it’s as if they are talking to each other without speaking.
One is running his fingers down the velvet of my sleeve, I start to move and he catches my wrist in an iron grip, sending thrills running through my body.
“I wasn’t leaving.” I say and as he releases my hand I bring it up to run my fingers down his cheek. I can feel the drink working its way into my blood and making me just the littlest bit bolder. I run my thumb just under his lip, his eyes close slightly. I feel the hand from behind me that was in my hair grip my neck suddenly.
I hear a low growl in my ear “It is dangerous for you to go home this late, you will come with us.” Again, it is not a question.
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Once Again