Fic: Never Do As the Romans Do, Part 2/3
Title: Never Do As the Romans Do, Part 2/3
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker and Criminal Minds (Crossover)
Pairings: Kahlan/Cara and Emily/JJ
Summary: A Mord'Sith, a Mother Confessor, and a team of FBI profilers walk into a bar. Shenanigans ensue.
A/N: This is a sequel to Slightly Outside of Jurisdiction, in which Kahlan and Cara summoned JJ and Emily to the Midlands, and shenanigans also ensued.
Spoilers: Through Season 2 of Seeker, none for Criminal Minds
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Criminal Minds or Legend of the Seeker.
Part 1
Emily let Hotch pull her aside, leaving JJ to explain the situation in more detail to Cara and Kahlan. Morgan, Rossi, and Reid hovered near the visitors, seemingly unsure how to approach them. Reid, for his part, looked like a puppy on a poorly-moored tether, barely containing his desire to bombard Cara and Kahlan with questions about interdimensional travel, or perhaps medieval metallurgy. For Reid's sake, Prentiss hoped he asked Kahlan first and not Cara.
"Prentiss, I don't know what to do about this," Hotch said as they stood apart from the others, his tone almost desperate. "I can't report this-no one will believe me. I don't believe me. I don't even believe in magic, but now there's them, and there's, you know, the leather-"
"Yes, sir."
"And the knives."
"Yep."
"And the magical appearance."
"Uh huh."
"And the…" he waved his hands vaguely over his chest region.
"Oh, I know, sir, believe me."
Hotch groaned and buried his face in his hands. Prentiss gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, having never seen him so at a loss.
"What I've learned, sir, is that the best thing is to stop questioning it. Just look at them as a resource, like any other. We've got a problem to solve, and they're kind of like the local law enforcement." Hotch looked up at her and sighed.
"That doesn't help much, but I suppose I don't have any other options." He shook his head and seemed to come to a decision. Suddenly he straightened his back. As if it had been replaced by a mask, Hotch's face smoothed until it held the same confident sternness it usually did, leaving Emily the only witness to his momentary uncertainty. He offered Emily a faint smile. "Well, I suppose we had better get more details from them."
When they returned to the group, Prentiss saw that the rest of her team had finally worked up the courage to approach Kahlan and Cara. Hotch and Prentiss joined them just in time to hear Cara address Reid:
"And in this world, you help enforce the law?" Her tone was dubious, and Reid looked affronted.
"I'm actually an excellent shot with the revolver," he responded defensively, before amending, "Well, I'm above average. But our real job is about profiling-getting inside a killer's head and predicting his moves before he can make them."
"Yes, profiling," Cara responded with a sniff. "I suppose that did prove useful when JJ and Emily used it." This grudging approval seemed to somewhat mollify Reid.
"Man, I just can't get over this," Morgan said, shaking his head in wonder. "I mean, JJ and Emily told me what happened, but I don't think I ever completely believed them. Magic. Damn."
"I don't see why it's such a shock," Kahlan replied, her tone amused. "I've seen those weapons of yours-that's as close to magic as I've ever seen. It seems to me it makes no difference how something works, only that it does."
"You know," Reid interjected thoughtfully, "Arthur C. Clarke once wrote that to a mind primitive enough, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'" Cara cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Are you calling us primitive?" Her tone was vaguely menacing.
"What? No!" Reid exclaimed in mild terror, taking an involuntary step away from Cara's gaze. "I just meant-"
"It's fine," Kahlan interrupted, shaking her head in exasperation as she reached out a hand to stop Cara's advance. "You'll have to forgive Cara. We're both still adjusting to all of this." Reid swallowed hard and didn't look convinced, but Cara seemed to let it go with an indifferent shrug as she turned to Emily. Hotch cleared his throat.
"So you say this Keeper's come to our world. Do you have any more details?"
"I wish I did," Kahlan replied apologetically. "But we don’t have very much information. It might help if we could see the bodies-the ones you say had strange marks on them." Hotch gave a single nod.
"I'll call the morgue. I'll also call someone to deal with all…this." He gestured broadly towards the mess behind them on the warehouse floor. He pulled out his cell phone and took a step to the side as he dialed.
Meanwhile, Rossi was eyeing Kahlan and Cara, a speculative look on his face.
"Does everyone dress like that where you're from?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "You both seem to be rather fond of leather."
"Yes," Cara drawled in response, observing him coolly. "I've found leather is useful as protection against people trying to stab you. What's your excuse for those shoes?" Rossi looked down at his very buffed boots and grinned back up at Cara.
"These are Fratelli Borgioli Italian leather. I don't need an excuse."
Cara snorted, but before she could say something derisive, Kahlan cleared her throat self-consciously. In a low, concerned voice, she addressed the group:
"I'm a little worried about your squadron leader. He's behaving…oddly." Emily glanced over to where Hotch was pacing back and forth, speaking seriously into his phone. JJ furrowed her brow, but then her face cleared with understanding.
"Oh, no," JJ told Kahlan, repressing a smile. "He's just using a phone-it lets people talk to each other when they're hundreds of miles apart."
"Ah," Kahlan responded, comprehension dawning on her face. "We have something very similar. Our journey books let us to write instantaneous messages to each other, no matter how far away two people are." Reid's eyes lit up at this information.
"That sounds fascinating," he exclaimed, his excitement nearly palpable. "How do they work?" Kahlan answered easily:
"It's simple, really. The journey books are spelled so that when you write in one, the words appear in the matching set. Of course," she added almost as an after-thought, "you have to write the words in blood."
"Oh," Reid replied, blanching. "That's…convenient."
"Yes," Prentiss continued dubiously. "It's just like email. With body fluids."
"It's only a small bit of blood," Cara responded with a superior sniff. "I don't see why everyone's so concerned. You should see how much blood you have to spill for a Maldavian sacrificial ritual. I haven't participated in one since I started following Richard and his 'no murdering innocents' rules, but if I recall, you had to wear thick boots just to keep the blood from staining your cuffs." Her eyes had grown distant, misty with old memories. Then she shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Reid leaned over to whisper to Prentiss:
"Are you sure she didn't kill all those people?"
"Not completely," Emily murmured back.
Any further discussion was interrupted by Hotch's return.
"Someone will be by to take care of this. We can be at the morgue in twenty minutes if we go now." They all nodded and headed towards the warehouse exit, Emily and JJ falling in with Kahlan and Cara. The moment they stepped outside the warehouse, Kahlan and Cara stopped short.
The warehouse was situated in the somewhat run-down outskirts of D.C. The area surrounding the warehouse was cordoned off, but just beyond the cordon were several tall office buildings, a storefront collection of laundromats, Italian restaurants, and hair salons, and a few parked cars. It looked like a typical urban setting, a little drearier than most.
"Are you ok?" JJ asked Cara and Kahlan with concern.
"It's just so…grey," Kahlan exclaimed, her eyes wide as she examined her surroundings. "And square. And tall. Those buildings-even the towers of the People's Palace are not so tall." She stared across towards the mid-sized law building on the horizon.
"It's also ugly as a new-born gar," Cara added dryly, looking with distaste at the concrete sidewalk. "Does this world have no trees? And those pathetic saplings over there hardly count." She gestured to a sad-looking row of trees along the sidewalk of the storefront.
"There are greener areas," Prentiss promised. "This is just what our cities look like. Though I will warn you, things only get bigger the closer to the city you get." Kahlan shook her head in disbelief, but she continued following after the others. They approached the street where their SUVs were parked. Just then, a beaten-up red Mustang zipped down the street, its driver oblivious to the squadron of cops as he blasted some mid-nineties jams on his speakers. Kahlan and Cara took a surprised step back from the sidewalk as the car barreled by.
"Don't worry," Morgan immediately said in a reassuring voice. He pointed to the FBI-issue SUVs on the curb. "These aren't monsters. I know they seem frightening, but they're really just vehicles for carrying people around."
Cara gave him a withering look.
"And why would we think they're monsters?" she inquired archly. "Those things have wheels-they're clearly intended for transportation. We may not be as advanced in technology as you, but we have invented wheels. Fire, too."
"Oh. Right," Morgan replied, and Emily thought she detected a blush on the man's face. She shook her head in exasperation and opened the door to one of the cars, hoping to hustle Cara inside before she managed to insult or intimidate every single member of the team. Cara and Kahlan eyed the opening with suspicion, but then Kahlan shrugged and cast Cara a challenging grin, stepping into the SUV. Frowning, Cara followed. JJ took the driver's side and Emily the passenger's while the rest of the team dispersed to the other cars.
Emily glanced in her rearview mirror as JJ started the car and began to pull out. Kahlan looked curious but relaxed as she took in her surroundings; Cara looked like an irate cat, hackles raised and a scowl so deep Emily was afraid it might be permanent. Deciding to offer some distraction, Prentiss asked,
"So what have did we miss since we last saw you guys?"
There followed a rather convoluted tale of deserts and rifts and magical jewels. Very little of it made sense to JJ and Emily, but the telling did seem to relax Cara, whose death-grip on her agiels lessened somewhat as they spoke. Of course, the narrative was somewhat fractured due to a constant stream of,
"What's that?"
"A firetruck."
"What's that?"
"An old man in a tracksuit jogging for exercise."
"What's that?"
"The freeway."
"What's that?"
"A drunk man pissing in an alley."
"No, not that-we have those in the Midlands. The other thing."
"Oh, a strip club."
They finally arrived at the morgue, just after the rest of the team. Hotch entered first, flashing his badge at the front desk and tersely asking for the appropriate room. The attending looked nervously at Cara and Kahlan. Cara just glared at him, daring him to make a comment; he did not.
Rossi and Morgan waited outside while the rest entered the cold, sterile lab, Rossi making some comment about too many cooks in the morgue. As the attending lifted up the sheet covering the body, Prentiss spoke.
"We've had almost a dozen bodies that look just like this, all positioned with their arms crossed over their chests, the same symbols on their foreheads and chests."
Kahlan bent over and examined the body of the white male in his mid-thirties. She let her hands hover over the strange marks on his forehead, her expression intent. She looked up at Emily.
"The symbols are identical?"
"Yes," Prentiss responded. "Do you know what they mean?"
"Not exactly," Kahlan said with a frown. "The murders are part of a summoning ritual of some kind, I know that much. But I'm not familiar enough with the runes to know exactly what's being summoned." She sighed. "I wish Zedd were here-he would know."
"Really?" Cara inquired, cocking her head skeptically at Kahlan. "We only just got rid of Zedd, and now you want him back? If I recall, Zedd's greatest magical power appears to be the ability to interrupt us every single time we're alone. I'd rather work through this ourselves than have Zedd here, popping up every five minutes like a voyeuristic gopher." Kahlan stifled a smile before turning to Hotchner.
"I'm afraid that we really can't help much until we get more clues or can speak to someone who knows what's going on." Hotch nodded grimly as they trekked out of the room to rejoin Morgan and Rossi.
"Any luck?" Rossi asked.
"Not exactly," Hotch replied. "It looks like we're in the same position as before. We need suspects and witnesses. Until we get them, there's not a lot we can do. We've got cops on the streets on the lookout for unusual activity, but I honestly have no idea how to profile magic. For now, we just…wait."
"What should we do in the meantime?" Reid asked. There was a silence. Then Morgan shrugged and flashed a grin.
"Anyone up for drinks?"
Before they could even consider taking Morgan up on his offer, JJ and Emily decided to get Cara and Kahlan settled in; there was no telling how long they would be hanging around. They could have gone to JJ's place-Will and his girlfriend had Henry for the weekend-but Emily's apartment was closest, so they piled back into the car and drove to what JJ always teasingly called "the nice part of town."
When they entered Emily's apartment building, the doorman barely glanced at Cara and Kahlan. He'd been working that door for many years, and the two of them probably didn't even register on his list of oddest city denizens. The rest of the apartment's inhabitants didn't quite have his outlook, however, and Emily spent a tense walk to the elevator praying no one would make a comment that would send Cara into an explosive rage.
When the elevator door dinged open, Cara peered inside, suspicion raw on her face.
"It's a mode of transportation," JJ offered reassuringly. "It will take us up to Emily's room."
"It's a small box," Cara insisted, glowering. "I don't like small boxes."
Kahlan rolled her eyes.
"So one time you step in a small box and end up trapped in a tomb with no air. Really, Cara, it's time to let it go and get over your fear."
"I'm not afraid," Cara snapped. "I just think that, as a general rule, one should not step into a small box without knowing exactly where one will end up." Emily sighed.
"My apartment is on the 22nd floor, which is where we'll end up, and which is, not coincidentally, the number of flights of stairs you will have to climb if you don't get into this very safe device I have used hundreds of times in my life." Whether it was due to Emily's logic or the fear that someone might regard her as cowardly, Cara stepped into the elevator, hands firmly clutching the agiels at her sides. Prentiss pressed the button for the 22nd floor and shared an amused look with JJ as Kahlan and Cara started at the sudden upward movement.
When they arrived at the correct floor, the soothing female voicebox of the elevator announced,
"22."
Cara's agiels were instantly in her hands as her eyes snapped up towards the roof of the elevator.
"There's someone up there," she hissed. "Perhaps a very small person." Prentiss resisted the pull of a facepalm. JJ interceded.
"It's not a person-it's a recording. I promise there's no one up there." Cara did not look entirely convinced, continuing to eye the ceiling suspiciously, but she sheathed her agiels and followed the others out of the elevator.
Prentiss unlocked her door and ushered them in. While JJ went upstairs to change clothes (she'd been spending a lot of time at Emily's, and had already moved up to the one-drawer-in-the-wardrobe stage), Emily gave the other two a tour. It turned out to be an extended process, as Emily had to explain what her coffee-maker was, what her refrigerator did, why she had so many paintings and what they meant, how the apartment was lit without candles, and why the privy had a handle on it, among other things. Frankly, it was exhausting, and Emily was damn near ready for that drink by the time she finished.
JJ rejoined her, now wearing jeans instead of her Bureau slacks. She eyed Kahlan and Cara speculatively.
"Well, if we're going to go out, the first order of business is doing something with your clothes."
"What's wrong with our clothes?" Cara asked, bristling. JJ hesitated, exchanging a glance with Emily. Emily shrugged and decided to bite the bullet.
"Frankly, Cara, it kind of looks like you escaped from leather fetish shop with two dildos strapped to your sides." Cara's brow furrowed in confusion.
"What's a dildo?" She looked to Kahlan, who shrugged her own ignorance. JJ sighed.
"Never mind, it doesn't really matter. What Emily's trying to say is that in this world, you're conspicuous, and conspicuous is bad."
"I don't care," Cara responded petulantly, her lip jutting out like a five-year old's after she's learned there will be no pony for Christmas. "I don't take off my leather, and I don't take off my agiels."
"Fine," Emily conceded, unable to resist a rueful smile at Cara's stubbornness. "I suppose you can scrape by with your outfit-there are parts of D.C. where you'd fit right in." She turned to Kahlan. "What about you? To be honest, not many people wear leather dresses that are so…striking." Kahlan looked down at her dress and frowned.
"I see nothing conspicuous about this dress."
"It…well, it doesn't leave much to the imagination," JJ remarked delicately.
"I'll have you know this is a time-honored style among Confessors, passed on for generations," Kahlan protested indignantly.
"Yeah, time-honored to get people to look at your cleavage," Emily responded with a snort. Kahlan looked appalled.
"I always thought it was strategic," Cara offered, shrugging. "You know-a distraction technique against your enemies?" By this point, Kahlan had a scowl that nearly rivaled Cara's favorite expression. JJ stepped in to smooth the waters.
"All we're suggesting is that perhaps for tonight, you consider a different set of clothing."
"Fine," Kahlan responded resignedly. Her eyes grew hard. "But I'm not wearing pants. It just doesn't feel right if I'm not wearing something that constricts my movement and makes it more difficult for me to fight."
"We can work with that," JJ said with a nod. "Keep the boots-I'll find you a dress."
After changing herself, Emily waited with Cara while JJ played fashion police. After a short period of time, the two women reappeared at the top of the stairs. Kahlan was wearing a small black dress, which, frankly, was just as revealing as her travel kit. Its hem came to just above Kahlan's knee, and its neckline was undeniably plunging. Emily vaguely remembered buying it several years ago for one of her mother's events, only to stuff it in the back of her closet after its one use. It looked like it was tailor-made for Kahlan, and Cara's eyes lit up with appreciation when she saw the Confessor.
"That is…a nice dress," Cara remarked, seemingly at a loss for something more to say. Kahlan grinned at her as she took the final stair and stood in front of them.
"I know."
Cara's eyes raked up and down Kahlan's body in a way that was almost indecent. Then she paused and a frown creased her face.
"Where did you put your knives?"
Kahlan's returning smile was roguish.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
They arrived outside the Blue and Red an hour later. It was a bit of a hybrid bar, coupling the simple pleasures of a dive with the wine and liquor list of a much swankier place. Emily had been coming there for years, and she had always thought the bouncer was out of place for such a relaxed atmosphere. As the four of them approached the entrance, Emily, JJ, and Kahlan passed by with no trouble, but the bouncer, a bored-looking man the size of a Mack truck, held up a restraining hand to Cara. He eyed her up and down.
"You can't have those," he said, nodding towards her agiels. "I don't know what they are, exactly, but they look dangerous, and we don't allow weapons in here." His words were somewhat ill-advised. Emily wasn't sure if it was his blasé attitude, the repeated criticism of Cara's sartorial decisions, or the sheer accumulation of minor shocks and uncertainties from this new world, but Cara chose that moment to snap. Reaching out with both hands, she grabbed the bouncer by his shirt and slammed him against the brick wall. He was easily three times her size, but that didn't seem to stop her. She whipped out an agiel and let it hover over the bouncer's face, just barely touching it to his forehead. He yelped in shock and pain.
"Still want to tell me what I can and cannot bring inside?" Cara drawled.
"Jesus, lady!" the bouncer exclaimed, gulping and looking down at her with terror. "It's fine! You can go in! I'm sorry!" Cara gave a single satisfied nod, sheathed her agiel, and sauntered into the bar.
"Feel better now?" Kahlan asked her wryly.
"Yes," Cara responded brightly, observing her surroundings with an air of curiosity and noticeably increased cheer. "Now this is more what I'm used to."
Emily searched the room until she caught sight of familiar faces. She led the way to a table where Garcia, Morgan, Reid, and Rossi were sitting. Garcia's face lit up when she saw them.
"Oh my goodness, you must be Cara and Kahlan!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together in delight. "Grab a seat-we have a lot to discuss."
Emily felt like she was reliving several stages of her high school career, when she had gone shooting around various parts of the world and had to go through convoluted introductions nearly every year. Reid in particular couldn't seem to stop barraging the Midlanders with questions, most of which Kahlan fielded good-naturedly. Emily noticed Cara growing restless, and not wanting a repeat of the bouncer incident, she leaned over to the other woman.
"Want to get a drink with me at the bar?"
Cara nodded almost gratefully, and after touching JJ lightly on the shoulder to let her know they were getting up, Emily led Cara to the slab of oak that served as the Blue and Red's bar. The barkeeper noticed them almost immediately and migrated their way.
"Emily, hi!" she said brightly, flashing her teeth at the other woman. "I haven't seen you here in a while."
"Hi Shirley," Emily responded with a warm smile. "I've been a little busy, but I've got some friends in town so I decided to bring them in." She knitted her brows, thinking, and then her expression cleared with her decision. "Oh, what the hell. I'll take two Macallans." Shirley nodded and went to fetch the drinks. A moment later, she returned with two tumblers of the whisky. Emily handed one to Cara, who sniffed it suspiciously.
"Now, this is a Macallan 18-year-old single-malt scotch," Emily began. "If you'll notice, you can taste the hints of oak threaded throughout the-" her words were interrupted when Cara shrugged and downed the liquid in one gulp. Emily winced and looked mournfully at the empty glass.
"You're supposed to savor it," she said with a sigh. Cara licked her lips appreciatively.
"That wasn't too bad," she remarked in surprise. "I think I'll have another." She leaned over the bar and called to Shirley, "Wench! Bring me more liquor!" Shirley's face went red with indignation, and she looked like she was about to break a bottle over Cara's head.
"Forgive her," Emily interjected hastily. "She's from Finland-her English isn't too good." Shirley scowled and didn't look particularly mollified, but she did go behind the bar and hand Cara another glass, glaring at her as she did so. Cara seemed indifferent to her reaction.
"Could you…could you savor this one a little more?" Emily pleaded. Cara shrugged again, but her next sip was relatively small.
They sat together nursing their drinks for a moment, Cara's gaze wandering over the bar and its patrons. Prentiss interrupted the companionable silence.
"Don't get upset with me for saying this, Cara, but you seem a little testy…er than usual. Anything you want to talk about?"
Cara made a face at her drink.
"Wouldn't you be testy if you were thrown into a completely different world?"
"If you'll recall," Prentiss responded drolly, "I was thrown into a different world, and I think I behaved rather well, all things considered." Cara snorted. Then she seemed to relent.
"It's just…it's been a month since we defeated the Keeper. And Kahlan keeps insisting that I'm the one she wants to be with; that she had feelings for Richard, but they've become more like the feelings of a sister for a brother." She cracked her neck and took another sip of her drink, letting the liquor roll over her tongue. "But you weren't there at the Pillars of Creation when we replaced the Stone of Tears. Frankly, it was revolting. There were declarations of love, speeches about fate, and Zedd practically vomited sentimentality. It was horrible." She made a disgusted face. "Kahlan told me she got caught up in the moment, that accidentally killing Richard may have gone to her head. But sometimes I wonder. They're supposed to have this ridiculous, epic romance, and occasionally-not often," she warned, "I wonder how I can compete."
Emily blinked, unsure at first what to say. The outpouring of genuine sentiment from Cara, and so much of it, caught her completely off-guard. She attributed most of it to the power of the Macallan. Then she shook her head and smiled slightly.
"Maybe everyone where you're from thinks Richard and Kahlan belong together, but JJ and I have seen the two of you together. I see how she looks at you, even if you don't. If you don't trust me as a friend, trust me as a profiler: She's not going anywhere."
Cara seemed to consider that, lightly clinking a finger against her glass. Then she drained the last of her scotch and looked over to meet Emily's eyes.
"Perhaps you're right." Then she grinned. "And I am confident Richard could never satisfy her the way I do." Emily almost blushed at the wicked glint in Cara's eyes. Then she shook her head, tossed back the last of her drink, and slid off her bar stool.
"Then let's go see how your lady's doing."
When they arrived back at the table, they found Morgan and Kahlan in a deep conversation about the most effective methods of incapacitating an armed opponent. Cara slid effortlessly into the discussion, and soon they were all comparing notes on tackling techniques, throat jabs, and roundhouse kicks.
A pitcher of beer later, Kahlan excused herself and headed towards the establishment's restroom. As Kahlan was making her way back to the table, Emily looked up to see three men approach the woman. She had noticed them earlier playing darts near their table, laughing and drinking MGD. They looked like young insurance salesmen who had all attended the same frat in college. Emily could just make out their words as they stopped Kahlan. Emily considered intervening, but then she realized that Kahlan could probably take care of herself.
"Feel like playing a game of darts?" one of the men asked, offering Kahlan what he surely considered a charming smile.
"No, thank you," Kahlan responded politely, raising an eyebrow. "I've never played darts before."
"Oh, it's easy, sweetheart," interjected the second man, reaching out to rest his hand reassuringly on Kahlan's shoulder. Kahlan looked down at his hand, her face impassive. "All you have to do is take a dart, point towards the target, and throw." He nodded to where the dartboard rested on the far wall.
"If you want to learn how, we'd be happy to teach you," the third man said, his accommodating expression bordering on a leer.
"Are you betting on the game?" Kahlan asked innocently.
"Oh, don't worry, we wouldn't bet against you," the first man said with a laugh. "Especially not if you're just starting out." Kahlan gave a serious nod.
"I appreciate that," she said, smiling sweetly. "But why don't we make a wager anyway? If I can hit the bullseye, you buy all my friends a round of drinks, and then you leave this bar with your tails between your legs." The second man frowned, removing his hand from Kahlan's shoulder and exchanging a confused look with his friends. He snorted.
"Look, honey, I really don't think you'll hit a bullseye on your first try. But if those are the odds…" he shrugged and recovered his cocky grin. "And if you can't hit the target, you come over to our table and let us buy you a drink. Maybe bring your hot blonde friend in the leather." Kahlan's eyes flashed, but then her expression cleared.
"Deal."
"Ok," the man responded affably. "So we'll just go over to the board. We'll give you a couple of warm-up throws-" But before the man could continue, there was a flash of metal and a dagger appeared in Kahlan's hand. With a single, sinuous movement, she cocked her arm back and let the knife go. It flew all the way across the bar, glinting as it spun, finally burying itself in the exact center of the dartboard, where it quivered from the impact. The bar went silent, and the three men stared at the board with mouths open.
"Ho-lee shit," said the first man, turning back to Kahlan, his eyes wide. She smirked at him.
"I believe we are drinking something called Sam Adams. Three pitchers should be sufficient."
After that incident, which the rest of the table had witnessed, the atmosphere only got more festive, and soon Morgan had challenged everyone to a drinking contest. Only Reid and Cara took him up on the offer, Reid because he wanted to regain some of the manhood he felt Cara had stripped him of earlier that day, and Cara because Morgan was buying. And thus Reid was soon passed out with his head smooshed against the table, Morgan was slurring his words, and Cara looked as if she had drunk nothing harder than a wine cooler.
At one point in the evening, Morgan leaned over to Emily and whisper-slurred,
"So what's the deal with Kahlan? Does she have a boyfriend? Or…a betrothed person friend? They get betrothed where she's from, right?"
"She's not betrothed, and there's definitely no boyfriend," Prentiss responded with amusement. "But I really don't think you should hit on her."
"Why not?" Morgan asked indignantly. "Did you see the way she threw that knife? And have you seen her hair? It looks like the hair of angels. Leather-wearing, knife-throwing angels."
"Christ, you're drunk, Morgan."
"Mm hmm," Morgan responded happily. Then he rotated so he was facing Kahlan, who was looking down with wonder as Garcia showed her and Cara her iPhone. Morgan cleared his throat.
"So, uh, Kahlan. You seein' anybody back where you're from? I mean, do you have a special someone in the Midlands?" Kahlan looked up at Morgan, her eyes glinting with humor.
"You could say that."
Cara looked at Morgan speculatively. Then, very deliberately, she reached over and clamped her hand down on Kahlan's thigh. Morgan blinked at where her hand rested, his alcohol-addled brain making several revolutions.
"Oh," he said vaguely. Then, "Oh!" His eyes went wide. "Ok then, well, I'm pretty drunk right now, so I think I'm gonna go home. We've got a lot of evil to fight tomorrow."
"Yes, we do," Kahlan responded kindly, casting Cara a half-hearted glare. Cara shrugged indifferently.
"Actually, I think we should all probably head back," JJ said, taking a look around the table. Rossi had left two hours ago, and Reid was snoring gently, his head pillowed on the table. "I for one do not want to face evil with a hangover."
Kahlan followed Emily and JJ into Emily's apartment, Cara at her side.
"This is the guest room," Emily said, showing them the downstairs bedroom. "JJ and I will be upstairs if you need anything." Kahlan nodded and they said their goodnights. Then Cara began to take off her boots and Kahlan entered the bathroom, marveling as she filled a cup with water from the faucet. As she drank, she stared at the mirror, examining the way she looked in this odd new clothing.
Everything here was strange, and nothing was simple. The things these people took for granted boggled Kahlan's mind. She wondered briefly whether her world would have more advanced technology if it weren't for magic, which often seemed to serve the same purpose as the gadgets that filled this world.
The one thing that did seem to stay the same was people. Emily and JJ's team were good people, dedicated to their jobs, just like she was. Kahlan liked them all, even Hotch with his taciturn ways and Reid with his constant questioning. She was glad to be here, because she felt in the pit of her stomach that something was not right, and she felt sure that she had come here for a reason. But she had never realized how much she would miss waking up to the sight of trees all around her, or enjoying the simplicity of a quiet dawn, or having nothing to worry about but Cara and a quest. She sighed and stepped out of the bathroom.
Cara looked up when she came in. She had already taken off her gloves and boots, but she still wore her leathers. She stood when Kahlan entered the room, and the look she gave Kahlan was hungry. She closed the distance between them and drew Kahlan to her, kissing her fiercely and deeply. Kahlan could taste the sweet tanginess of this world's strange alcohol on Cara's tongue. Cara's arm slipped around Kahlan's waist and began to creep to the hem of Kahlan's dress. Kahlan removed her lips from Cara's.
"Cara," she said softly, smiling teasingly at the other woman. "I think you might be a little tipsy."
"I know," Cara responded, punctuating her answer with another kiss. Kahlan broke contact again.
"We have a long day tomorrow."
"Don't care."
"Emily and JJ are upstairs. They might hear us."
"Not. My. Problem."
With each word, Cara gave Kahlan a little shove until Kahlan's knees hit the side of the bed and she fell onto her back on the mattress. Cara crawled on top of her, kissing along her shoulder, up her neck, back to her lips. Kahlan moaned slightly, feeling her stomach clench warmly with anticipation. Cara's hand crept below Kahlan's dress and slid up the inside of her thigh. Suddenly Kahlan felt Cara's lips curve upwards against hers. Cara lifted her head a little so she could cock an eyebrow at Kahlan.
"So that's where you strapped your knives." Kahlan grinned back at her.
"Why don't you help me get them off?"
As Cara began to very deliberately undress Kahlan, Kahlan felt a sudden wave of contentment. In the end, it didn't matter where they were, how strange their quest, or how bewildering their situation. Wherever Cara was, that felt like home.
To be continued…in Part 3
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker and Criminal Minds (Crossover)
Pairings: Kahlan/Cara and Emily/JJ
Summary: A Mord'Sith, a Mother Confessor, and a team of FBI profilers walk into a bar. Shenanigans ensue.
A/N: This is a sequel to Slightly Outside of Jurisdiction, in which Kahlan and Cara summoned JJ and Emily to the Midlands, and shenanigans also ensued.
Spoilers: Through Season 2 of Seeker, none for Criminal Minds
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Criminal Minds or Legend of the Seeker.
Part 1
Emily let Hotch pull her aside, leaving JJ to explain the situation in more detail to Cara and Kahlan. Morgan, Rossi, and Reid hovered near the visitors, seemingly unsure how to approach them. Reid, for his part, looked like a puppy on a poorly-moored tether, barely containing his desire to bombard Cara and Kahlan with questions about interdimensional travel, or perhaps medieval metallurgy. For Reid's sake, Prentiss hoped he asked Kahlan first and not Cara.
"Prentiss, I don't know what to do about this," Hotch said as they stood apart from the others, his tone almost desperate. "I can't report this-no one will believe me. I don't believe me. I don't even believe in magic, but now there's them, and there's, you know, the leather-"
"Yes, sir."
"And the knives."
"Yep."
"And the magical appearance."
"Uh huh."
"And the…" he waved his hands vaguely over his chest region.
"Oh, I know, sir, believe me."
Hotch groaned and buried his face in his hands. Prentiss gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, having never seen him so at a loss.
"What I've learned, sir, is that the best thing is to stop questioning it. Just look at them as a resource, like any other. We've got a problem to solve, and they're kind of like the local law enforcement." Hotch looked up at her and sighed.
"That doesn't help much, but I suppose I don't have any other options." He shook his head and seemed to come to a decision. Suddenly he straightened his back. As if it had been replaced by a mask, Hotch's face smoothed until it held the same confident sternness it usually did, leaving Emily the only witness to his momentary uncertainty. He offered Emily a faint smile. "Well, I suppose we had better get more details from them."
When they returned to the group, Prentiss saw that the rest of her team had finally worked up the courage to approach Kahlan and Cara. Hotch and Prentiss joined them just in time to hear Cara address Reid:
"And in this world, you help enforce the law?" Her tone was dubious, and Reid looked affronted.
"I'm actually an excellent shot with the revolver," he responded defensively, before amending, "Well, I'm above average. But our real job is about profiling-getting inside a killer's head and predicting his moves before he can make them."
"Yes, profiling," Cara responded with a sniff. "I suppose that did prove useful when JJ and Emily used it." This grudging approval seemed to somewhat mollify Reid.
"Man, I just can't get over this," Morgan said, shaking his head in wonder. "I mean, JJ and Emily told me what happened, but I don't think I ever completely believed them. Magic. Damn."
"I don't see why it's such a shock," Kahlan replied, her tone amused. "I've seen those weapons of yours-that's as close to magic as I've ever seen. It seems to me it makes no difference how something works, only that it does."
"You know," Reid interjected thoughtfully, "Arthur C. Clarke once wrote that to a mind primitive enough, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'" Cara cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Are you calling us primitive?" Her tone was vaguely menacing.
"What? No!" Reid exclaimed in mild terror, taking an involuntary step away from Cara's gaze. "I just meant-"
"It's fine," Kahlan interrupted, shaking her head in exasperation as she reached out a hand to stop Cara's advance. "You'll have to forgive Cara. We're both still adjusting to all of this." Reid swallowed hard and didn't look convinced, but Cara seemed to let it go with an indifferent shrug as she turned to Emily. Hotch cleared his throat.
"So you say this Keeper's come to our world. Do you have any more details?"
"I wish I did," Kahlan replied apologetically. "But we don’t have very much information. It might help if we could see the bodies-the ones you say had strange marks on them." Hotch gave a single nod.
"I'll call the morgue. I'll also call someone to deal with all…this." He gestured broadly towards the mess behind them on the warehouse floor. He pulled out his cell phone and took a step to the side as he dialed.
Meanwhile, Rossi was eyeing Kahlan and Cara, a speculative look on his face.
"Does everyone dress like that where you're from?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "You both seem to be rather fond of leather."
"Yes," Cara drawled in response, observing him coolly. "I've found leather is useful as protection against people trying to stab you. What's your excuse for those shoes?" Rossi looked down at his very buffed boots and grinned back up at Cara.
"These are Fratelli Borgioli Italian leather. I don't need an excuse."
Cara snorted, but before she could say something derisive, Kahlan cleared her throat self-consciously. In a low, concerned voice, she addressed the group:
"I'm a little worried about your squadron leader. He's behaving…oddly." Emily glanced over to where Hotch was pacing back and forth, speaking seriously into his phone. JJ furrowed her brow, but then her face cleared with understanding.
"Oh, no," JJ told Kahlan, repressing a smile. "He's just using a phone-it lets people talk to each other when they're hundreds of miles apart."
"Ah," Kahlan responded, comprehension dawning on her face. "We have something very similar. Our journey books let us to write instantaneous messages to each other, no matter how far away two people are." Reid's eyes lit up at this information.
"That sounds fascinating," he exclaimed, his excitement nearly palpable. "How do they work?" Kahlan answered easily:
"It's simple, really. The journey books are spelled so that when you write in one, the words appear in the matching set. Of course," she added almost as an after-thought, "you have to write the words in blood."
"Oh," Reid replied, blanching. "That's…convenient."
"Yes," Prentiss continued dubiously. "It's just like email. With body fluids."
"It's only a small bit of blood," Cara responded with a superior sniff. "I don't see why everyone's so concerned. You should see how much blood you have to spill for a Maldavian sacrificial ritual. I haven't participated in one since I started following Richard and his 'no murdering innocents' rules, but if I recall, you had to wear thick boots just to keep the blood from staining your cuffs." Her eyes had grown distant, misty with old memories. Then she shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Reid leaned over to whisper to Prentiss:
"Are you sure she didn't kill all those people?"
"Not completely," Emily murmured back.
Any further discussion was interrupted by Hotch's return.
"Someone will be by to take care of this. We can be at the morgue in twenty minutes if we go now." They all nodded and headed towards the warehouse exit, Emily and JJ falling in with Kahlan and Cara. The moment they stepped outside the warehouse, Kahlan and Cara stopped short.
The warehouse was situated in the somewhat run-down outskirts of D.C. The area surrounding the warehouse was cordoned off, but just beyond the cordon were several tall office buildings, a storefront collection of laundromats, Italian restaurants, and hair salons, and a few parked cars. It looked like a typical urban setting, a little drearier than most.
"Are you ok?" JJ asked Cara and Kahlan with concern.
"It's just so…grey," Kahlan exclaimed, her eyes wide as she examined her surroundings. "And square. And tall. Those buildings-even the towers of the People's Palace are not so tall." She stared across towards the mid-sized law building on the horizon.
"It's also ugly as a new-born gar," Cara added dryly, looking with distaste at the concrete sidewalk. "Does this world have no trees? And those pathetic saplings over there hardly count." She gestured to a sad-looking row of trees along the sidewalk of the storefront.
"There are greener areas," Prentiss promised. "This is just what our cities look like. Though I will warn you, things only get bigger the closer to the city you get." Kahlan shook her head in disbelief, but she continued following after the others. They approached the street where their SUVs were parked. Just then, a beaten-up red Mustang zipped down the street, its driver oblivious to the squadron of cops as he blasted some mid-nineties jams on his speakers. Kahlan and Cara took a surprised step back from the sidewalk as the car barreled by.
"Don't worry," Morgan immediately said in a reassuring voice. He pointed to the FBI-issue SUVs on the curb. "These aren't monsters. I know they seem frightening, but they're really just vehicles for carrying people around."
Cara gave him a withering look.
"And why would we think they're monsters?" she inquired archly. "Those things have wheels-they're clearly intended for transportation. We may not be as advanced in technology as you, but we have invented wheels. Fire, too."
"Oh. Right," Morgan replied, and Emily thought she detected a blush on the man's face. She shook her head in exasperation and opened the door to one of the cars, hoping to hustle Cara inside before she managed to insult or intimidate every single member of the team. Cara and Kahlan eyed the opening with suspicion, but then Kahlan shrugged and cast Cara a challenging grin, stepping into the SUV. Frowning, Cara followed. JJ took the driver's side and Emily the passenger's while the rest of the team dispersed to the other cars.
Emily glanced in her rearview mirror as JJ started the car and began to pull out. Kahlan looked curious but relaxed as she took in her surroundings; Cara looked like an irate cat, hackles raised and a scowl so deep Emily was afraid it might be permanent. Deciding to offer some distraction, Prentiss asked,
"So what have did we miss since we last saw you guys?"
There followed a rather convoluted tale of deserts and rifts and magical jewels. Very little of it made sense to JJ and Emily, but the telling did seem to relax Cara, whose death-grip on her agiels lessened somewhat as they spoke. Of course, the narrative was somewhat fractured due to a constant stream of,
"What's that?"
"A firetruck."
"What's that?"
"An old man in a tracksuit jogging for exercise."
"What's that?"
"The freeway."
"What's that?"
"A drunk man pissing in an alley."
"No, not that-we have those in the Midlands. The other thing."
"Oh, a strip club."
They finally arrived at the morgue, just after the rest of the team. Hotch entered first, flashing his badge at the front desk and tersely asking for the appropriate room. The attending looked nervously at Cara and Kahlan. Cara just glared at him, daring him to make a comment; he did not.
Rossi and Morgan waited outside while the rest entered the cold, sterile lab, Rossi making some comment about too many cooks in the morgue. As the attending lifted up the sheet covering the body, Prentiss spoke.
"We've had almost a dozen bodies that look just like this, all positioned with their arms crossed over their chests, the same symbols on their foreheads and chests."
Kahlan bent over and examined the body of the white male in his mid-thirties. She let her hands hover over the strange marks on his forehead, her expression intent. She looked up at Emily.
"The symbols are identical?"
"Yes," Prentiss responded. "Do you know what they mean?"
"Not exactly," Kahlan said with a frown. "The murders are part of a summoning ritual of some kind, I know that much. But I'm not familiar enough with the runes to know exactly what's being summoned." She sighed. "I wish Zedd were here-he would know."
"Really?" Cara inquired, cocking her head skeptically at Kahlan. "We only just got rid of Zedd, and now you want him back? If I recall, Zedd's greatest magical power appears to be the ability to interrupt us every single time we're alone. I'd rather work through this ourselves than have Zedd here, popping up every five minutes like a voyeuristic gopher." Kahlan stifled a smile before turning to Hotchner.
"I'm afraid that we really can't help much until we get more clues or can speak to someone who knows what's going on." Hotch nodded grimly as they trekked out of the room to rejoin Morgan and Rossi.
"Any luck?" Rossi asked.
"Not exactly," Hotch replied. "It looks like we're in the same position as before. We need suspects and witnesses. Until we get them, there's not a lot we can do. We've got cops on the streets on the lookout for unusual activity, but I honestly have no idea how to profile magic. For now, we just…wait."
"What should we do in the meantime?" Reid asked. There was a silence. Then Morgan shrugged and flashed a grin.
"Anyone up for drinks?"
Before they could even consider taking Morgan up on his offer, JJ and Emily decided to get Cara and Kahlan settled in; there was no telling how long they would be hanging around. They could have gone to JJ's place-Will and his girlfriend had Henry for the weekend-but Emily's apartment was closest, so they piled back into the car and drove to what JJ always teasingly called "the nice part of town."
When they entered Emily's apartment building, the doorman barely glanced at Cara and Kahlan. He'd been working that door for many years, and the two of them probably didn't even register on his list of oddest city denizens. The rest of the apartment's inhabitants didn't quite have his outlook, however, and Emily spent a tense walk to the elevator praying no one would make a comment that would send Cara into an explosive rage.
When the elevator door dinged open, Cara peered inside, suspicion raw on her face.
"It's a mode of transportation," JJ offered reassuringly. "It will take us up to Emily's room."
"It's a small box," Cara insisted, glowering. "I don't like small boxes."
Kahlan rolled her eyes.
"So one time you step in a small box and end up trapped in a tomb with no air. Really, Cara, it's time to let it go and get over your fear."
"I'm not afraid," Cara snapped. "I just think that, as a general rule, one should not step into a small box without knowing exactly where one will end up." Emily sighed.
"My apartment is on the 22nd floor, which is where we'll end up, and which is, not coincidentally, the number of flights of stairs you will have to climb if you don't get into this very safe device I have used hundreds of times in my life." Whether it was due to Emily's logic or the fear that someone might regard her as cowardly, Cara stepped into the elevator, hands firmly clutching the agiels at her sides. Prentiss pressed the button for the 22nd floor and shared an amused look with JJ as Kahlan and Cara started at the sudden upward movement.
When they arrived at the correct floor, the soothing female voicebox of the elevator announced,
"22."
Cara's agiels were instantly in her hands as her eyes snapped up towards the roof of the elevator.
"There's someone up there," she hissed. "Perhaps a very small person." Prentiss resisted the pull of a facepalm. JJ interceded.
"It's not a person-it's a recording. I promise there's no one up there." Cara did not look entirely convinced, continuing to eye the ceiling suspiciously, but she sheathed her agiels and followed the others out of the elevator.
Prentiss unlocked her door and ushered them in. While JJ went upstairs to change clothes (she'd been spending a lot of time at Emily's, and had already moved up to the one-drawer-in-the-wardrobe stage), Emily gave the other two a tour. It turned out to be an extended process, as Emily had to explain what her coffee-maker was, what her refrigerator did, why she had so many paintings and what they meant, how the apartment was lit without candles, and why the privy had a handle on it, among other things. Frankly, it was exhausting, and Emily was damn near ready for that drink by the time she finished.
JJ rejoined her, now wearing jeans instead of her Bureau slacks. She eyed Kahlan and Cara speculatively.
"Well, if we're going to go out, the first order of business is doing something with your clothes."
"What's wrong with our clothes?" Cara asked, bristling. JJ hesitated, exchanging a glance with Emily. Emily shrugged and decided to bite the bullet.
"Frankly, Cara, it kind of looks like you escaped from leather fetish shop with two dildos strapped to your sides." Cara's brow furrowed in confusion.
"What's a dildo?" She looked to Kahlan, who shrugged her own ignorance. JJ sighed.
"Never mind, it doesn't really matter. What Emily's trying to say is that in this world, you're conspicuous, and conspicuous is bad."
"I don't care," Cara responded petulantly, her lip jutting out like a five-year old's after she's learned there will be no pony for Christmas. "I don't take off my leather, and I don't take off my agiels."
"Fine," Emily conceded, unable to resist a rueful smile at Cara's stubbornness. "I suppose you can scrape by with your outfit-there are parts of D.C. where you'd fit right in." She turned to Kahlan. "What about you? To be honest, not many people wear leather dresses that are so…striking." Kahlan looked down at her dress and frowned.
"I see nothing conspicuous about this dress."
"It…well, it doesn't leave much to the imagination," JJ remarked delicately.
"I'll have you know this is a time-honored style among Confessors, passed on for generations," Kahlan protested indignantly.
"Yeah, time-honored to get people to look at your cleavage," Emily responded with a snort. Kahlan looked appalled.
"I always thought it was strategic," Cara offered, shrugging. "You know-a distraction technique against your enemies?" By this point, Kahlan had a scowl that nearly rivaled Cara's favorite expression. JJ stepped in to smooth the waters.
"All we're suggesting is that perhaps for tonight, you consider a different set of clothing."
"Fine," Kahlan responded resignedly. Her eyes grew hard. "But I'm not wearing pants. It just doesn't feel right if I'm not wearing something that constricts my movement and makes it more difficult for me to fight."
"We can work with that," JJ said with a nod. "Keep the boots-I'll find you a dress."
After changing herself, Emily waited with Cara while JJ played fashion police. After a short period of time, the two women reappeared at the top of the stairs. Kahlan was wearing a small black dress, which, frankly, was just as revealing as her travel kit. Its hem came to just above Kahlan's knee, and its neckline was undeniably plunging. Emily vaguely remembered buying it several years ago for one of her mother's events, only to stuff it in the back of her closet after its one use. It looked like it was tailor-made for Kahlan, and Cara's eyes lit up with appreciation when she saw the Confessor.
"That is…a nice dress," Cara remarked, seemingly at a loss for something more to say. Kahlan grinned at her as she took the final stair and stood in front of them.
"I know."
Cara's eyes raked up and down Kahlan's body in a way that was almost indecent. Then she paused and a frown creased her face.
"Where did you put your knives?"
Kahlan's returning smile was roguish.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
They arrived outside the Blue and Red an hour later. It was a bit of a hybrid bar, coupling the simple pleasures of a dive with the wine and liquor list of a much swankier place. Emily had been coming there for years, and she had always thought the bouncer was out of place for such a relaxed atmosphere. As the four of them approached the entrance, Emily, JJ, and Kahlan passed by with no trouble, but the bouncer, a bored-looking man the size of a Mack truck, held up a restraining hand to Cara. He eyed her up and down.
"You can't have those," he said, nodding towards her agiels. "I don't know what they are, exactly, but they look dangerous, and we don't allow weapons in here." His words were somewhat ill-advised. Emily wasn't sure if it was his blasé attitude, the repeated criticism of Cara's sartorial decisions, or the sheer accumulation of minor shocks and uncertainties from this new world, but Cara chose that moment to snap. Reaching out with both hands, she grabbed the bouncer by his shirt and slammed him against the brick wall. He was easily three times her size, but that didn't seem to stop her. She whipped out an agiel and let it hover over the bouncer's face, just barely touching it to his forehead. He yelped in shock and pain.
"Still want to tell me what I can and cannot bring inside?" Cara drawled.
"Jesus, lady!" the bouncer exclaimed, gulping and looking down at her with terror. "It's fine! You can go in! I'm sorry!" Cara gave a single satisfied nod, sheathed her agiel, and sauntered into the bar.
"Feel better now?" Kahlan asked her wryly.
"Yes," Cara responded brightly, observing her surroundings with an air of curiosity and noticeably increased cheer. "Now this is more what I'm used to."
Emily searched the room until she caught sight of familiar faces. She led the way to a table where Garcia, Morgan, Reid, and Rossi were sitting. Garcia's face lit up when she saw them.
"Oh my goodness, you must be Cara and Kahlan!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together in delight. "Grab a seat-we have a lot to discuss."
Emily felt like she was reliving several stages of her high school career, when she had gone shooting around various parts of the world and had to go through convoluted introductions nearly every year. Reid in particular couldn't seem to stop barraging the Midlanders with questions, most of which Kahlan fielded good-naturedly. Emily noticed Cara growing restless, and not wanting a repeat of the bouncer incident, she leaned over to the other woman.
"Want to get a drink with me at the bar?"
Cara nodded almost gratefully, and after touching JJ lightly on the shoulder to let her know they were getting up, Emily led Cara to the slab of oak that served as the Blue and Red's bar. The barkeeper noticed them almost immediately and migrated their way.
"Emily, hi!" she said brightly, flashing her teeth at the other woman. "I haven't seen you here in a while."
"Hi Shirley," Emily responded with a warm smile. "I've been a little busy, but I've got some friends in town so I decided to bring them in." She knitted her brows, thinking, and then her expression cleared with her decision. "Oh, what the hell. I'll take two Macallans." Shirley nodded and went to fetch the drinks. A moment later, she returned with two tumblers of the whisky. Emily handed one to Cara, who sniffed it suspiciously.
"Now, this is a Macallan 18-year-old single-malt scotch," Emily began. "If you'll notice, you can taste the hints of oak threaded throughout the-" her words were interrupted when Cara shrugged and downed the liquid in one gulp. Emily winced and looked mournfully at the empty glass.
"You're supposed to savor it," she said with a sigh. Cara licked her lips appreciatively.
"That wasn't too bad," she remarked in surprise. "I think I'll have another." She leaned over the bar and called to Shirley, "Wench! Bring me more liquor!" Shirley's face went red with indignation, and she looked like she was about to break a bottle over Cara's head.
"Forgive her," Emily interjected hastily. "She's from Finland-her English isn't too good." Shirley scowled and didn't look particularly mollified, but she did go behind the bar and hand Cara another glass, glaring at her as she did so. Cara seemed indifferent to her reaction.
"Could you…could you savor this one a little more?" Emily pleaded. Cara shrugged again, but her next sip was relatively small.
They sat together nursing their drinks for a moment, Cara's gaze wandering over the bar and its patrons. Prentiss interrupted the companionable silence.
"Don't get upset with me for saying this, Cara, but you seem a little testy…er than usual. Anything you want to talk about?"
Cara made a face at her drink.
"Wouldn't you be testy if you were thrown into a completely different world?"
"If you'll recall," Prentiss responded drolly, "I was thrown into a different world, and I think I behaved rather well, all things considered." Cara snorted. Then she seemed to relent.
"It's just…it's been a month since we defeated the Keeper. And Kahlan keeps insisting that I'm the one she wants to be with; that she had feelings for Richard, but they've become more like the feelings of a sister for a brother." She cracked her neck and took another sip of her drink, letting the liquor roll over her tongue. "But you weren't there at the Pillars of Creation when we replaced the Stone of Tears. Frankly, it was revolting. There were declarations of love, speeches about fate, and Zedd practically vomited sentimentality. It was horrible." She made a disgusted face. "Kahlan told me she got caught up in the moment, that accidentally killing Richard may have gone to her head. But sometimes I wonder. They're supposed to have this ridiculous, epic romance, and occasionally-not often," she warned, "I wonder how I can compete."
Emily blinked, unsure at first what to say. The outpouring of genuine sentiment from Cara, and so much of it, caught her completely off-guard. She attributed most of it to the power of the Macallan. Then she shook her head and smiled slightly.
"Maybe everyone where you're from thinks Richard and Kahlan belong together, but JJ and I have seen the two of you together. I see how she looks at you, even if you don't. If you don't trust me as a friend, trust me as a profiler: She's not going anywhere."
Cara seemed to consider that, lightly clinking a finger against her glass. Then she drained the last of her scotch and looked over to meet Emily's eyes.
"Perhaps you're right." Then she grinned. "And I am confident Richard could never satisfy her the way I do." Emily almost blushed at the wicked glint in Cara's eyes. Then she shook her head, tossed back the last of her drink, and slid off her bar stool.
"Then let's go see how your lady's doing."
When they arrived back at the table, they found Morgan and Kahlan in a deep conversation about the most effective methods of incapacitating an armed opponent. Cara slid effortlessly into the discussion, and soon they were all comparing notes on tackling techniques, throat jabs, and roundhouse kicks.
A pitcher of beer later, Kahlan excused herself and headed towards the establishment's restroom. As Kahlan was making her way back to the table, Emily looked up to see three men approach the woman. She had noticed them earlier playing darts near their table, laughing and drinking MGD. They looked like young insurance salesmen who had all attended the same frat in college. Emily could just make out their words as they stopped Kahlan. Emily considered intervening, but then she realized that Kahlan could probably take care of herself.
"Feel like playing a game of darts?" one of the men asked, offering Kahlan what he surely considered a charming smile.
"No, thank you," Kahlan responded politely, raising an eyebrow. "I've never played darts before."
"Oh, it's easy, sweetheart," interjected the second man, reaching out to rest his hand reassuringly on Kahlan's shoulder. Kahlan looked down at his hand, her face impassive. "All you have to do is take a dart, point towards the target, and throw." He nodded to where the dartboard rested on the far wall.
"If you want to learn how, we'd be happy to teach you," the third man said, his accommodating expression bordering on a leer.
"Are you betting on the game?" Kahlan asked innocently.
"Oh, don't worry, we wouldn't bet against you," the first man said with a laugh. "Especially not if you're just starting out." Kahlan gave a serious nod.
"I appreciate that," she said, smiling sweetly. "But why don't we make a wager anyway? If I can hit the bullseye, you buy all my friends a round of drinks, and then you leave this bar with your tails between your legs." The second man frowned, removing his hand from Kahlan's shoulder and exchanging a confused look with his friends. He snorted.
"Look, honey, I really don't think you'll hit a bullseye on your first try. But if those are the odds…" he shrugged and recovered his cocky grin. "And if you can't hit the target, you come over to our table and let us buy you a drink. Maybe bring your hot blonde friend in the leather." Kahlan's eyes flashed, but then her expression cleared.
"Deal."
"Ok," the man responded affably. "So we'll just go over to the board. We'll give you a couple of warm-up throws-" But before the man could continue, there was a flash of metal and a dagger appeared in Kahlan's hand. With a single, sinuous movement, she cocked her arm back and let the knife go. It flew all the way across the bar, glinting as it spun, finally burying itself in the exact center of the dartboard, where it quivered from the impact. The bar went silent, and the three men stared at the board with mouths open.
"Ho-lee shit," said the first man, turning back to Kahlan, his eyes wide. She smirked at him.
"I believe we are drinking something called Sam Adams. Three pitchers should be sufficient."
After that incident, which the rest of the table had witnessed, the atmosphere only got more festive, and soon Morgan had challenged everyone to a drinking contest. Only Reid and Cara took him up on the offer, Reid because he wanted to regain some of the manhood he felt Cara had stripped him of earlier that day, and Cara because Morgan was buying. And thus Reid was soon passed out with his head smooshed against the table, Morgan was slurring his words, and Cara looked as if she had drunk nothing harder than a wine cooler.
At one point in the evening, Morgan leaned over to Emily and whisper-slurred,
"So what's the deal with Kahlan? Does she have a boyfriend? Or…a betrothed person friend? They get betrothed where she's from, right?"
"She's not betrothed, and there's definitely no boyfriend," Prentiss responded with amusement. "But I really don't think you should hit on her."
"Why not?" Morgan asked indignantly. "Did you see the way she threw that knife? And have you seen her hair? It looks like the hair of angels. Leather-wearing, knife-throwing angels."
"Christ, you're drunk, Morgan."
"Mm hmm," Morgan responded happily. Then he rotated so he was facing Kahlan, who was looking down with wonder as Garcia showed her and Cara her iPhone. Morgan cleared his throat.
"So, uh, Kahlan. You seein' anybody back where you're from? I mean, do you have a special someone in the Midlands?" Kahlan looked up at Morgan, her eyes glinting with humor.
"You could say that."
Cara looked at Morgan speculatively. Then, very deliberately, she reached over and clamped her hand down on Kahlan's thigh. Morgan blinked at where her hand rested, his alcohol-addled brain making several revolutions.
"Oh," he said vaguely. Then, "Oh!" His eyes went wide. "Ok then, well, I'm pretty drunk right now, so I think I'm gonna go home. We've got a lot of evil to fight tomorrow."
"Yes, we do," Kahlan responded kindly, casting Cara a half-hearted glare. Cara shrugged indifferently.
"Actually, I think we should all probably head back," JJ said, taking a look around the table. Rossi had left two hours ago, and Reid was snoring gently, his head pillowed on the table. "I for one do not want to face evil with a hangover."
Kahlan followed Emily and JJ into Emily's apartment, Cara at her side.
"This is the guest room," Emily said, showing them the downstairs bedroom. "JJ and I will be upstairs if you need anything." Kahlan nodded and they said their goodnights. Then Cara began to take off her boots and Kahlan entered the bathroom, marveling as she filled a cup with water from the faucet. As she drank, she stared at the mirror, examining the way she looked in this odd new clothing.
Everything here was strange, and nothing was simple. The things these people took for granted boggled Kahlan's mind. She wondered briefly whether her world would have more advanced technology if it weren't for magic, which often seemed to serve the same purpose as the gadgets that filled this world.
The one thing that did seem to stay the same was people. Emily and JJ's team were good people, dedicated to their jobs, just like she was. Kahlan liked them all, even Hotch with his taciturn ways and Reid with his constant questioning. She was glad to be here, because she felt in the pit of her stomach that something was not right, and she felt sure that she had come here for a reason. But she had never realized how much she would miss waking up to the sight of trees all around her, or enjoying the simplicity of a quiet dawn, or having nothing to worry about but Cara and a quest. She sighed and stepped out of the bathroom.
Cara looked up when she came in. She had already taken off her gloves and boots, but she still wore her leathers. She stood when Kahlan entered the room, and the look she gave Kahlan was hungry. She closed the distance between them and drew Kahlan to her, kissing her fiercely and deeply. Kahlan could taste the sweet tanginess of this world's strange alcohol on Cara's tongue. Cara's arm slipped around Kahlan's waist and began to creep to the hem of Kahlan's dress. Kahlan removed her lips from Cara's.
"Cara," she said softly, smiling teasingly at the other woman. "I think you might be a little tipsy."
"I know," Cara responded, punctuating her answer with another kiss. Kahlan broke contact again.
"We have a long day tomorrow."
"Don't care."
"Emily and JJ are upstairs. They might hear us."
"Not. My. Problem."
With each word, Cara gave Kahlan a little shove until Kahlan's knees hit the side of the bed and she fell onto her back on the mattress. Cara crawled on top of her, kissing along her shoulder, up her neck, back to her lips. Kahlan moaned slightly, feeling her stomach clench warmly with anticipation. Cara's hand crept below Kahlan's dress and slid up the inside of her thigh. Suddenly Kahlan felt Cara's lips curve upwards against hers. Cara lifted her head a little so she could cock an eyebrow at Kahlan.
"So that's where you strapped your knives." Kahlan grinned back at her.
"Why don't you help me get them off?"
As Cara began to very deliberately undress Kahlan, Kahlan felt a sudden wave of contentment. In the end, it didn't matter where they were, how strange their quest, or how bewildering their situation. Wherever Cara was, that felt like home.
To be continued…in Part 3