Work Text:
Sam considered taking ENCOM on, once they’d gotten safely out of the Grid. His dad was really gone now, and he had two (brand new) people in addition to Marv now depending on him to get his shit together and be a functioning adult. So he thought about it: all in, legitimately getting involved with the business from the big picture to the minute and dealing with all the BS Alan had let slip about over the years.
Making breakfast and explaining why energy came in so many different textures in the material world, Sam deliberated over his options. He thought about almost nothing else for the first two days after Quorra had managed to get him and Rinzler out of the system before Reintigration reset everything. Emphasis on almost though, because he was also trying to figure out how to fit three people into an apartment that was exactly perfect (not too small, no matter what Alan said) for a single man and a dog. He thought about it all the way through those early days, distracted only briefly by the awkward explanations of biological waste and his own brief, reluctant foray to the closest strip mall for necessities. He’d fumbled his way through determining sizes and picking out packs of underwear under the judgmental eye of the lingerie monitor of the J C Penny’s, not ashamed but fully out of his depth and genuinely grateful for the size charts on the backs of the five-packs. He could only be thankful that their suits had translated into something resembling his own clothing in their sizes so he didn’t have to figure out jeans for them right away.
Sam researched the actual duties he’d be required to take on if he actually took over the reins and decided shit to that. Then he drafted an email to Alan about selling him a majority of his stocks on the cheap and put his tablet away. He took Quorra and Rinzler out for dinner at the diner nearby and then they went back to his place to pick up Marv, his leash and Frisbee, and Sam led the way to the local park. It was a miserable patch of green that barely deserved the name, but it was still an oasis in the urban industrial wasteland that Sam had chosen back before he’d rescued Marv.
Somehow, his vague plan to let Marv run off some of his pent up energy after peeing ended up with Quorra and Rinzler putting their incredible disc throwing skills to use with his dog’s bright red Frisbee. Sam could only watch in growing amusement as a ten minute stalemate escalated, regular volleys becoming more heated as neither player missed a catch.
Quorra’s forehead was crinkled faintly as she rocked on the balls of her feet, expression equal parts concentration and bemusement as she tracked the Frisbee entering and leaving Rinzler’s hand. One ragged sleeve of the old MIT sweatshirt Sam had given her against the unseasonable chill that night came unrolled but she didn’t let that prevent her from spinning a mid-air save into a sharp return that had a pair of twilight joggers slowing to gape. Her smile was fierce as she followed the arc of the disc back to Rinzler.
Rinzler’s wrists were bare beneath the sleeves of his borrowed sweater as though in contrast to the picture Quorra made. The faded slash of Nike’s logo was only barely visible against the washed out grey of the background.
Marv was ecstatic and desperate all at once. He raced between the two of them with wild-eyed determination to be ready for the moment one of them missed a catch.
Quorra locked eyes with Rinzler - Sam could see it the instant where the challenge of the game between them ratcheted up, tension rising higher - and flung herself down and rolling to the side, using the momentum to add extra force when she let the Frisbee fly, low to the ground and out of range for a normal person standing where Rinzler had been, betting her own potential to easily catch the next volley on Rinzler being unable to catch her shot, finally breaking the stalemate.
Rinzler wasn’t normal, however, and had already calculated the likeliest of Quorra’s unlikely choices and had moved to compensate -
Then, with a burst of fierce joy, the most experienced competitor playing finally found his moment. Sam burst out laughing at the look on Quorra and Rinzler’s faces as Marv gleefully jumped between them and intercepted the Frisbee, small body flying through the air and landing without reducing speed. He lapped Quorra and Rinzler once, legs moving in a blur as he tore through the turf back to Sam. The shocked looks didn't fade immediately and the longer they lingered, the funnier it was. After a moment, Sam couldn’t even laugh properly anymore, chest so tight with the burst of hysterical humor that he started shaking silently and had to brace his hands on his knees to keep from falling over. Marv plopped down to his left just out of arm’s reach, body heaving with exertion and mouth open wide in a doggy grin that instigated a fresh wave of convulsive laughter when Sam’s eyes cleared enough to see it.
“Does he often disrupt other people’s Games?” Rinzler asked, the corners of his mouth turning down faintly as he and Quorra wandered closer, each with one eye tracking the other warily.
Sam snorted and took a few deep breaths before he was able to respond. “It’s his Frisbee, man. This is literally what we do every night, almost. You’ve actually been the ones disrupting his games.”
Quorra’s eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry, Marv,” she said sincerely, crouching down. Marv didn’t ducked his head protectively over his Frisbee as she ducked closer but the instinctive jerk of his tail gave away his growing fondness for her.
Sam rolled his eyes and swooped down, snagging the Frisbee and waving it around. Marv jumped up as fast as possible and let out a soft bark as his usual playmate finally got with the program. They eyed each other for a long moment, each accustomed to reading the other’s tells in this particular standoff, and then Sam flung the Frisbee with an eye for distance rather than trick shots, and Marv was off as fast as his Boston Terrier legs could take him. Sam watched his dog chase after the toy with single-minded determination and then turned to the former programs, feeling more centered than he had in days. “Hey. What do you guys think about a road trip? I’m thinking it might be good to get out of town for a while and see what the rest of the world has to offer. It’ll give us a chance to get you guys acclimated.”
There was a moment of silence where they heard the rumbling of an engine passing slowly as a tourist, now lost, tried to reorient themselves with street signs they didn’t recognize.
“That would be acceptable,” Rinzler said. “Will there be more Frisbee?”
Quorra looked possibly more hopeful than Rinzler, and Sam laughed. “Sure, we can bring a Frisbee. Marv would be bummed if we left it.”
Quorra smiled immediately. “That sounds like a great idea! Can we go to New York? I read about it in - ”
“Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?” Sam offered, grinning. Quorra shrugged, still smiling shamelessly.
Sam cocked his head at Rinzler and when he didn’t protest after a moment, he nodded. “That's pretty far off. Let's see how we do getting to Nevada first...but if you guys are comfortable, I don't see why we can't do a coast to coast trip. None of us have anywhere to be and it's not a bad way to get you two oriented. We'll have to drop Marv with Alan if we're going on a trip longer than a week, though. I wonder if he'd loan us his SUV…”