A secondary simulation within the matrix, Thursday
So Cara and Atton's 'beat up the aliens' plan did not go as anticipated, and now she found herself blinking awake.
Handcuffed to a wooden chair.
Which given that more than once in her life she'd woken dangling from her wrists, naked except garments for resembled oversized belts as much as clothing, this was actually not the worst thing that could happen. Though what was she wearing? It looked like some kind of suit, which she could swear she'd seen somewhere before, and it felt like she was wearing a hat, not that she could reach up to check. Because again, handcuffs.
"Good, you're awake! Was worried for a second there."
For brief, glorious moment the familiar and far too cheerful voice filled Cara with relief and hope, and she turned her head trying to see. "Kahlan?"
"'Fraid not." The owner of the voice stepped into view, all blonde hair, broad grin and tailored suit, and Cara remembered where exactly she'd seen the one she was wearing before. She leaned forwards and trailed her fingers along Cara's jaw. "But if you tell me all about her, Agent M, I'm sure I can be her."
Great, somehow Cara was now in an episode of Agent M. Not that this particular scenario had ever actually happened to Agent M, and much as she might like to have watched something like this, she needed to get out of here and fast. "I don't want you to be her," she said, thinking quickly. "I want you to be you."
"Me?" The woman with Kahlan's face bopped her on the nose. It was much less endearing than when Surreal did it. "You mean sweet little Gail, who you never saw coming?"
"I mean the real you. The one that's too smart not to know you're being used." Cara deliberately licked her lips and let her voice get throaty as she looked up at the other woman. "To know no one could appreciate you like I could."
Just like she'd hoped the woman's eyes darkened, and quick as a snake striking, she was straddling Cara's lap. "Well now," she murmured, plucking the red hat off Cara's head to place it atop her own, and Cara needed to either never tell Surreal about this, or tell her about it as the next available opportunity. "How do you plan on doing that?"
Cara looked at her for one long moment, then drew her head back and slammed it into the other woman's face, as she fell backwards, Cara threw her weight against the side of the chair to tip it and was rewarded with the snapping of wood as it hit the ground. Scrambling to her feet and pulling the cuffs free of the wreckage, she eyed the other woman warily as she rose, her expression the kind of gleeful rage that Cara was most familiar with from the mirror.
This was not how she'd planned on spending today.
[Oh, like I wasn't going to do this to her.]
Handcuffed to a wooden chair.
Which given that more than once in her life she'd woken dangling from her wrists, naked except garments for resembled oversized belts as much as clothing, this was actually not the worst thing that could happen. Though what was she wearing? It looked like some kind of suit, which she could swear she'd seen somewhere before, and it felt like she was wearing a hat, not that she could reach up to check. Because again, handcuffs.
"Good, you're awake! Was worried for a second there."
For brief, glorious moment the familiar and far too cheerful voice filled Cara with relief and hope, and she turned her head trying to see. "Kahlan?"
"'Fraid not." The owner of the voice stepped into view, all blonde hair, broad grin and tailored suit, and Cara remembered where exactly she'd seen the one she was wearing before. She leaned forwards and trailed her fingers along Cara's jaw. "But if you tell me all about her, Agent M, I'm sure I can be her."
Great, somehow Cara was now in an episode of Agent M. Not that this particular scenario had ever actually happened to Agent M, and much as she might like to have watched something like this, she needed to get out of here and fast. "I don't want you to be her," she said, thinking quickly. "I want you to be you."
"Me?" The woman with Kahlan's face bopped her on the nose. It was much less endearing than when Surreal did it. "You mean sweet little Gail, who you never saw coming?"
"I mean the real you. The one that's too smart not to know you're being used." Cara deliberately licked her lips and let her voice get throaty as she looked up at the other woman. "To know no one could appreciate you like I could."
Just like she'd hoped the woman's eyes darkened, and quick as a snake striking, she was straddling Cara's lap. "Well now," she murmured, plucking the red hat off Cara's head to place it atop her own, and Cara needed to either never tell Surreal about this, or tell her about it as the next available opportunity. "How do you plan on doing that?"
Cara looked at her for one long moment, then drew her head back and slammed it into the other woman's face, as she fell backwards, Cara threw her weight against the side of the chair to tip it and was rewarded with the snapping of wood as it hit the ground. Scrambling to her feet and pulling the cuffs free of the wreckage, she eyed the other woman warily as she rose, her expression the kind of gleeful rage that Cara was most familiar with from the mirror.
This was not how she'd planned on spending today.
[Oh, like I wasn't going to do this to her.]