CHAPTER NINETEEN: Don't want to hear about it, Every single one's got a story to tell, Everyone knows about it, From the Queen of England to the hounds of hell

Kahlan's hands went instinctively to cover her breasts exposed as Richard fell tangled in the blanket. She winced in sympathy at the sound of him hitting the floor. But she didn't have time to linger on how he was going to bruise – Cara launched into a drunken tirade that shook her right to the core. She was too disoriented to immediately act. One moment, Richard was above her, grunting and thrusting while she tried her best to stay in the moment and not fantasize about Cara's lips on her breast and her hands between her legs. The next moment, there Cara was, obviously drunk, and spilling all of Kahlan's deepest secrets.

Richard scrambled to his feet, wrapping the sheet around his waist to try to preserve some semblance on modesty. The room was unnaturally quiet for a moment after Cara dropped her bombshell. Kahlan took in a deep breath, trying to figure out something to say to defuse the situation but before she could, Richard exploded.

"What the fuck Cara?" He bellowed. His face turned a shocking shade of red and he was advancing rather menacingly toward the blonde. Kahlan leapt off the bed, racing to restrain him but Cara stopped her with a shake of her head. At least, that's what Kahlan thought it was. Cara could also have been about to throw up – she was pretty drunk. "Do not just fucking kick in my door and say shit like that. Now apologize to Kahlan!"

Kahlan blinked. She was even more confused. Obviously, Richard didn't believe Cara. Which meant, Kahlan could go along with that, pretend none of it ever happened and that Cara was just drunk, or she would have to be the one to disabuse him of his belief in her innocence. She wasn't innocent. Not at all.

"Richard, please can we talk about this without yelling," Kahlan fumbled around on the floor for her clothes. Being naked in the middle of a fist-fight was not exactly her idea of a good time, and it definitely looked like the situation might devolve into violence at any moment. She had one arm into her t-shirt, and was just pulling it down across her face when she heard the impact. Cara had lunged at Richard as he approached, sending them both rocketing backward into the foot of the bed.

Kahlan wriggled around, jamming her other arm into the shirt and scooping up her panties to slip them over her long legs. The surprise attack gave Cara the upper hand, which she was exploiting viciously, raining blows down on Richard pinned beneath her. "I won't apologize to Kahlan for loving her!"

Kahlan froze. Richard didn't. Whether Cara's words or her assault motivated him, Kahlan didn't know, but he summoned his strength and heaved upward with his arms, flinging Cara backwards to land spread-eagle on the floor. The blonde, drunk or not, was surprisingly dexterous; she rolled backward onto her shoulders and then reversed her momentum, leaping to her feet. In a flash, she was on Richard again, fists flying.

The pair rolled around on the floor, punching, kicking and elbowing. Teeth flashed and incomprehensible shouting filled the air. Things were quickly getting out of hand, time for Kahlan to wade into the fray. She separated them, dragging Cara off of Richard with one hand on the back of her shirt and the other wrapped around her belt. For once in her life, Kahlan was glad of her height. The blonde continued to squirm and struggle after she had been pulled away until she seemed to come to herself. When she stopped fighting her, Kahlan dropped Cara heavily on the ground.

"You," She pointed at Cara and then pointed at the door. "Out. We will talk later."

Richard lay on the ground, breathing heavily and bleeding from his potentially broken nose. As little as she wanted to have to handle playing doctor before they could sort everything out, Kahlan needed to make sure he was alright.

Cara left without an argument, but her expression was tight and her eyes hooded. Kahlan was more than a little afraid of what she might do next.

Richard whimpered as Kahlan popped his nose back into line. A fresh drizzle of blood dripped down across his upper lip. She sat back onto her knees, wincing at his obvious discomfort. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, turned to face her while she knelt on the mattress next to him. She handed him a towel to blot at the blood and then slipped off the bed. Physical distance would make the conversation she knew they had to have a little bit easier, she reasoned.

He waited silently for her to speak. The air around them was charged with tension. Richard had tucked the sheet around himself, but Kahlan suspected he may have passive aggressively decided against getting dressed. The silence was undoubtedly working on his conviction that Cara was out of her mind about her allegations.

The silence became weightier, pressing down against Kahlan's shoulders, constricting her chest around her lungs. She drew in a deep breath and turned around. It would be easier to talk with her back to him, she decided. Though, there was only so much that could be done to ease the impact on both of them.

"Richard," she murmured his name, her chin dropping against her chest sending her long brunette hair forward to curtain her face. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" His voice was hard, and while it was phrased as a question it sounded more like a cold statement.

"That you had to find out this way." She was sorry for the pain but she couldn't be sorry for what had occurred with Cara and for the way Cara made her feel. But, this was not the gentle way she had hoped to let him know, and making the decision between the two was not something she really felt ready for yet. The moment had arrived however.

"Find out what way? Your drunken lover, my best fucking friend, interrupting our love making? That way?" She thought she heard tears in his voice, but she couldn't turn around to see. She didn't know what she would do if he was crying. She could imagine the heartbroken look on his face.

The bed squeaked as Richard's weight was lifted off of it. She could hear his heavy tread as he made his way across the plush carpet to her. When his hands landed on her shoulders, she visibly flinched. "Richard," she protested softly as his fingers dug hard into her flesh. "Please, you're hurting me."

In lieu of a verbal response, Richard pushed her. She sprawled forward, catching herself against the edge of the table in front of her and falling to her knees. "Richard—"

"Stop saying my name!" He shouted. His anger was a palpable presence in the room. Kahlan went rigid, afraid of another blow, but unsure if she even had the right to fight back. "Just tell me…just tell me why? Why Cara? When?" The words kept pouring out of him, strangled by his sobs. "Did you like it? Was she better than me?"

"I was lonely, at first. At first it was because I was lonely." Kahlan pushed herself back to her feet by her palms on the table and turned to finally face Richard. Something inside of her chest was hardening, growing colder both weighing her down and simultaneously freeing her. "But then it was because I knew her, and there was something about her that was magnetic to me." She surveyed Richard's tear stained face, contorted in agony. "I thought I knew who I was when I met you."

"But you didn't?" He was still shouting, and each word felt like a physical blow.

"No, Richard, I didn't," she didn't shout in return. A screaming match would just make the entire thing too farcical. "And I didn't know who you were when I agreed to marry you. I was in love with the idea of you, the idea of me being married to you. You were there and it felt special, and before any of that could wear off, you were gone. So I didn't know better."

"You have no idea who Cara is; what she is capable of; what she has done," Richard wrapped his arms around his bare chest and began to retreat, physically and emotionally pulling back from Kahlan. "You'll come back to me." Brick by brick, Kahlan could watch him erect walls around his ego. "Have your little dalliance if you must, but you'll be back."

"Don't you get it, Richard?" The pain was finally completely gone. Richard had made it easier for her then she had imagined, which only served to illustrate how little she actually knew him. "It isn't even just about Cara. She was a catalyst for me to realize the things I needed to realize about myself and about us. I don't need to be a little child, with a girl's fantasy romance with some suave stranger out of a story. Cara might be the worst monster in the world, but she is real. Everything about her since the moment you sent her to me has been real. "

There was nothing left to say. She grabbed her shoes as she fled the room before Richard could respond.

CHAPTER TWENTY: Don't let yourself down, don't let yourself go, your last chance has arrived

Cara wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, capturing the dribbles of water that escaped the corners of her mouth as she chugged the large glass. Proper hydration is an important component of any hangover avoidance strategy. She was just setting the glass down when a soft knock at the door drew her attention.

She peered through the peep hole and was wholly unsurprised to see Kahlan, looking stern, on the other side. For a moment she contemplated not opening the door. If she never allowed Kahlan to tell her it was over, it never had to be over. She could go on pretending that she was the sort of person that anyone would ever want to love. The knock came again, softly. There was no way to put off the inevitable, and Cara was never one to hide from pain.

She opened the door and stepped back, walking away before Kahlan pushed it open and stepped inside. An apology struggled to claw its way out of her, like Alien, but she valiantly held it in. If Cara Mason was going to be turned down, she sure as shit wasn't going to apologize for anything. She couldn't apologize. She didn't even know how a human did that sort of thing. It was so far outside the realm of her lived experience. While she waited for Kahlan's scathing dismal she tried to dredge up a single memory of herself ever having apologized and failed horribly. She couldn't really come up with a single memory of her ever having loved anyone either. Mostly, the memories she could bring up were about violence, visiting it on people or enduring it being inflicted on herself.

"I need you to hold me."

Cara was already so prepared for some angry outburst that she was halfway through spinning around with her fists already balled before the words sunk in. "You need—" And then Kahlan had launched herself into the smaller woman's arms, clutching her tightly. The feel of her arms, Kahlan's breasts pressed against her own, the smell of her hair – it was nearly too much. Feelings, terrifying feelings, threatened to swamp the boat that was Cara Mason.

"Richard is never going to forgive me," Kahlan spoke directly into Cara's neck where she had pressed her face. The blonde was a little surprised that there did not appear to be any tears, but no more surprised than she was about the fact that apparently Kahlan had chosen her. She couldn't give less of a fuck if Richard ever forgave Kahlan – Kahlan was her's now. She nearly crowed with delight, but instead she wrapped her arms around the other woman, doing her best to radiate warmth and comfort – a distinctly foreign experience.

"I'm sure he will." She knew it was a lie. Part of her was sad that the friendship she had with Richard, which had been a rock through the trauma of her flight from her sisterhood had provided was most certainly and permanently dead. Maybe the sudden rush to her head caused brain cell death or dysfunction because like magic, an apology appeared. "I'm sorry I put you in that position. I couldn't—I can't— Just the idea of someone else touching you. It kills me. I love you, and I know I don't have a right to but I do."

Warm lips moved against Cara's neck, words transmuted into kissing. Fire raced through her veins but she tamped it down. Now was not the time to throw Kahlan on the bed and savagely ravage her just to mark her territory and obliterate the memory of Richard's touch forever.

"Come on. You're tired." Carefully she steered Kahlan toward the bed. They fell asleep, Kahlan's head tucked under Cara's chin, dark and light hair intertwined.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Home, Let me come Home, Home is wherever I'm with you

Aydindril was untouched in Kahlan's mind by Richard. He had been there so briefly, the impressions that he left didn't stick in her memory, which was a relief. They were like a half-remembered dream – far away like her days in high school or her early childhood. She could feel like she was home without being haunted by the ghost of him. There were other ghosts, though. It was a town that had been brutally treated, and it needed a strong leader to help. She almost couldn't believe that she had allowed Richard to distract her from that – her job as Mayor.

Several months had passed, and Kahlan could sit in her office and work through her paperwork without a steady stream of distraught townspeople interrupting her constantly. Which was not to say her days weren't without interruption, just of a significantly more pleasant variety. Her mind had begun to wander in the direction of such an interruption. Just the sensory memory of Cara's possessive hands made her wiggle in her chair. Cara liked to undress her, with the lights on, and watch her squirm with modesty while a blush worked its way up her neck. Cara also liked to work on Kahlan's truck in a nearly transparent white tank top with no bra underneath. She had a disconcerting habit of looking incredibly attractive while a sheen of sweat highlight the smooth contours of her muscled arms while she did yard work too. In fact, Kahlan realized with a sigh, even when Cara wasn't trying she was incredibly sensual, and sexually magnetic.

She shook her head, trying to bring herself back into the moment and focus on her paperwork. The clock on the wall ticked closer and closer toward five. Swirls of light took over her computer screen as the screen saver kicked in, hiding the spreadsheet that she had been pretending to work on.

There wasn't even a knock to warn her before the door was flung open and Cara sauntered inside. Every time she appeared it was breathtaking. Her body reacted immediately, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. Not for the first time, Kahlan was glad that Cara couldn't read her mind and guess the nearly pornographic things she had been thinking just moments before. "Oh, I didn't think your therapist appointment would be over so soon." Even to her own ears she sounded breathless and almost coy.

"I had better things to do then talk to a fat old man about why I have a perfectly normal aversion to being shot at and having any number of people try to murder me." Cara strutted across the short space between the door and Kahlan's desk.. Kahlan was absolutely certain she must practice that move in a mirror, there was no way that sort of thing came naturally – it oozed sex. She bit her lip as Cara settled herself on the corner of her desk. The view that provided of her ass and the toned expanse of her thigh was nearly too much. "I don't care if they have a special name for it, where I come from, it's called 'self preservation'."

"I think it's actually called post-traumatic stress, with an emphasis on the disorder." Horny or not, Kahlan wasn't going to let Cara get away with pretending she didn't have feelings.

"He keeps trying to prescribe pills. I think he must be getting a kickback from some sort of pharmaceutical company."

"I think he was trying to help you sleep through the night." Kahlan frowned slightly.

"I know a better way to sleep through the night. You should help me practice." Cara was fast. Very fast, which was really no surprise to Kahlan since she had at least an inkling that the other woman was some kind of super-soldier, and she had the hard muscles to prove it. Before she could blink or protest about the general inappropriateness of being straddled by your ridiculously hot girlfriend in your office chair in your office where you worked as mayor, Cara was in her lap and tugging at the buttons of her shirt.

"Cara, you're going to be the death of me."