Unspoken Rules Are Meant To Be Broken
Title: Unspoken Rules Are Meant To Be Broken
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan/Richard
Rating: PG
Warning: none
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
They don’t hate each other, by any means. Richard doesn’t hope for Cara to get shot in the line of duty and Cara doesn’t wish that Richard would fall off a ladder while trying to rescue a kitten from a tree. They don’t hate each other, but they certainly don’t love each other.
Cara wakes up a little after noon, having completed her third graveyard shift in a row only seven hours ago. The dark circles under her eyes are a testament of how hard she had worked to solve the case that they had only just closed last night, after two weeks of investigation.
She yawns and stretches her sore muscles, reaching over to the left side of the bed, frowning when she encounters nothing more than empty sheets. If she is honest with herself, which she usually is, she hadn’t really expected Kahlan to still be at her side. After all, Kahlan works normal hours, something she and Richard aren’t familiar with.
Cara always hopes that one of these days, Kahlan will stay home and play hooky. Cara rolls her eyes at the thought. That would never happen. Kahlan Amnell was, at some point in her life, instilled with a strong sense of duty, one that Cara tries impossibly hard to break.
She’d been lucky that Kahlan had woken early that morning, padding into the kitchen just as Cara was coming through the front door. She had been even luckier that she had managed to convince the brunette to forgo her morning jog for a more favorable form of exercise. Cara smirks as the memory burns its way through her mind.
The sound of the TV in the living room alerts Cara to the fact that Richard is home. She rolls her eyes and huffs a sigh. Of course, his day off would have to be the same as hers.
After a final, languid stretch, Cara rolls out of bed, naked as the day she was born. She always sleeps naked. It’s something that bothers Richard, but she likes the freedom it allows her, and maybe, she appreciates the simple fact that it bothers him.
She has half a mind not to shower, to stroll by Richard and let him smell Kahlan on her, but then she figures that would be spiteful. She also figures that Richard would tell Kahlan and that would put the brunette in a bad mood. Kahlan doesn’t like it when she intentionally does thing to irritate Richard, and Cara doesn’t want to be at the receiving end of the brunette’s disappointed gaze.
Cara takes her time in the shower, washing the scent of sweat and sex from her skin. She dresses in a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top, pulling on her red leather boots. They are scuffed and worn, but they are her favorite. She hates going about barefoot, even in her own house, and especially in front of Richard. It makes her feel vulnerable and Cara is not one for vulnerability. She runs a hand through her damp hair as she saunters out of her room and heads toward the kitchen, intent on finding something to eat.
Richard is in the living room, sprawled out across the couch, watching Die Hard. He hasn’t bothered to get dressed past a pair of gray sweatpants and Cara finds that it irritates her more than it probably should. He stops mouthing John McClane’s words long enough to tell her that there is leftover stir fry in the fridge. Cara’s eyes narrow as she stalks past him, aggravated by the fact that he knows that she’s a horrible cook. However, rather than trying to prove him wrong, she takes the takes the stir fry from the fridge.
She saunters into the living room and shoves Richard’s legs off the couch so she can sit down, kicking her booted feet up on the coffee table. Tearing the lid off the plastic container, she digs into the leftover stir fry.
They sit in silence for a few minutes before she feels Richard’s eyes on her and sense his need to speak. He can never just be silent. Not with Cara. Maybe he feels uncomfortable or maybe he just feels the need to put forth an effort for Kahlan’s sake. Either way, Cara hates it.
“How was work?” he asks, his voice full of false cheer.
Cara doesn’t take her eyes off the TV as she answers, her annoyance with him creeping into her tone. “I’m trying to watch this.”
Richard gives her an easy smile. “You’ve seen this a million times.”
“So have you, but that didn’t stop you from turning it on,” she replies.
Richard frowns, turning back to the TV. “Jesus, Cara, is it so bad to want to have a civil conversation with you?”
Cara glances at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to judge the truthfulness of his statement. Then, she remembers that she doesn’t actually care. “To be honest, I have a strong aversion to the very idea of it so if you would be so kind as to be completely silent, I will try to refrain from physically harming you.” When he glances over at her she smirks. “No promises, though.”
Richard rolls his eyes and huffs a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. The whole display reminds Cara of a petulant child and she resists the urge to make good on her threat.
“I just…” Richard begins before Cara’s icy green glare forces him back into silence.
Thankfully, Richard remains quiet long enough for the heat of Cara’s anger to fade, and when she gets up to put her bowl away she brings him back a beer as a sort of subconscious peace offering. He smiles his thanks and she settles back into the couch a little closer than before.
They don’t touch. They never do unless Kahlan asks it of them, or during sex. They don’t need to or want to. It’s one of many unspoken rules of their relationship. Kahlan is the glue that holds their little fucked up family together. Without her, there wouldn’t be a them. And the two of them are fine with that.
Apparently, this particular channel is holding a Die Hard marathon and Kahlan gets back as Richard and Cara are making their way through Die Hard with a Vengeance. Richard all but skips over to her as she enters, as he always does, reminding Cara of a puppy eager to see its master. Kahlan gives him a kiss before stepping out of her heels and peeling off her light sweater, leaving her in only her gray pencil skirt and a sleeveless white shirt.
Cara lets her eyes roam appreciatively over Kahlan’s body as Richard pulls the brunette in for another kiss. She shifts to sit sideways, curling one leg underneath her and bending the other at the knee, placing the heel of her foot on the couch. When Kahlan pulls away from Richard, she smiles at her, padding over to the couch on her bare feet.
Kahlan places a hand on Cara’s thigh, leaning toward her. “Hey,” she whispers before pressing her lips to the blonde’s. She brushes her lips against Cara’s upper and lower lip in turn. The tip of her tongue sneaks out to taste Cara’s lower lip before she pulls away.
Cara licks her lips and smiles, an expression almost exclusively saved for Kahlan. “Hey.”
Richard settles back into the couch, leaving just enough space between himself and Cara for Kahlan to fit.
Kahlan sits, leaning into Richard, her head on his shoulder. She curls her legs up onto the couching, placing her feet in Cara’s lap, and reaches back, lacing her fingers with Cara’s. Cara’s free hand finds her ankle, her thumb caressing the smooth skin there.
Richard lets an arm stretch over Kahlan’s shoulders and across the back of the couch, and when the backs of his fingers brush the top of Cara’s shoulders, neither of them mind.
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan/Richard
Rating: PG
Warning: none
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
They don’t hate each other, by any means. Richard doesn’t hope for Cara to get shot in the line of duty and Cara doesn’t wish that Richard would fall off a ladder while trying to rescue a kitten from a tree. They don’t hate each other, but they certainly don’t love each other.
Cara wakes up a little after noon, having completed her third graveyard shift in a row only seven hours ago. The dark circles under her eyes are a testament of how hard she had worked to solve the case that they had only just closed last night, after two weeks of investigation.
She yawns and stretches her sore muscles, reaching over to the left side of the bed, frowning when she encounters nothing more than empty sheets. If she is honest with herself, which she usually is, she hadn’t really expected Kahlan to still be at her side. After all, Kahlan works normal hours, something she and Richard aren’t familiar with.
Cara always hopes that one of these days, Kahlan will stay home and play hooky. Cara rolls her eyes at the thought. That would never happen. Kahlan Amnell was, at some point in her life, instilled with a strong sense of duty, one that Cara tries impossibly hard to break.
She’d been lucky that Kahlan had woken early that morning, padding into the kitchen just as Cara was coming through the front door. She had been even luckier that she had managed to convince the brunette to forgo her morning jog for a more favorable form of exercise. Cara smirks as the memory burns its way through her mind.
The sound of the TV in the living room alerts Cara to the fact that Richard is home. She rolls her eyes and huffs a sigh. Of course, his day off would have to be the same as hers.
After a final, languid stretch, Cara rolls out of bed, naked as the day she was born. She always sleeps naked. It’s something that bothers Richard, but she likes the freedom it allows her, and maybe, she appreciates the simple fact that it bothers him.
She has half a mind not to shower, to stroll by Richard and let him smell Kahlan on her, but then she figures that would be spiteful. She also figures that Richard would tell Kahlan and that would put the brunette in a bad mood. Kahlan doesn’t like it when she intentionally does thing to irritate Richard, and Cara doesn’t want to be at the receiving end of the brunette’s disappointed gaze.
Cara takes her time in the shower, washing the scent of sweat and sex from her skin. She dresses in a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top, pulling on her red leather boots. They are scuffed and worn, but they are her favorite. She hates going about barefoot, even in her own house, and especially in front of Richard. It makes her feel vulnerable and Cara is not one for vulnerability. She runs a hand through her damp hair as she saunters out of her room and heads toward the kitchen, intent on finding something to eat.
Richard is in the living room, sprawled out across the couch, watching Die Hard. He hasn’t bothered to get dressed past a pair of gray sweatpants and Cara finds that it irritates her more than it probably should. He stops mouthing John McClane’s words long enough to tell her that there is leftover stir fry in the fridge. Cara’s eyes narrow as she stalks past him, aggravated by the fact that he knows that she’s a horrible cook. However, rather than trying to prove him wrong, she takes the takes the stir fry from the fridge.
She saunters into the living room and shoves Richard’s legs off the couch so she can sit down, kicking her booted feet up on the coffee table. Tearing the lid off the plastic container, she digs into the leftover stir fry.
They sit in silence for a few minutes before she feels Richard’s eyes on her and sense his need to speak. He can never just be silent. Not with Cara. Maybe he feels uncomfortable or maybe he just feels the need to put forth an effort for Kahlan’s sake. Either way, Cara hates it.
“How was work?” he asks, his voice full of false cheer.
Cara doesn’t take her eyes off the TV as she answers, her annoyance with him creeping into her tone. “I’m trying to watch this.”
Richard gives her an easy smile. “You’ve seen this a million times.”
“So have you, but that didn’t stop you from turning it on,” she replies.
Richard frowns, turning back to the TV. “Jesus, Cara, is it so bad to want to have a civil conversation with you?”
Cara glances at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to judge the truthfulness of his statement. Then, she remembers that she doesn’t actually care. “To be honest, I have a strong aversion to the very idea of it so if you would be so kind as to be completely silent, I will try to refrain from physically harming you.” When he glances over at her she smirks. “No promises, though.”
Richard rolls his eyes and huffs a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. The whole display reminds Cara of a petulant child and she resists the urge to make good on her threat.
“I just…” Richard begins before Cara’s icy green glare forces him back into silence.
Thankfully, Richard remains quiet long enough for the heat of Cara’s anger to fade, and when she gets up to put her bowl away she brings him back a beer as a sort of subconscious peace offering. He smiles his thanks and she settles back into the couch a little closer than before.
They don’t touch. They never do unless Kahlan asks it of them, or during sex. They don’t need to or want to. It’s one of many unspoken rules of their relationship. Kahlan is the glue that holds their little fucked up family together. Without her, there wouldn’t be a them. And the two of them are fine with that.
Apparently, this particular channel is holding a Die Hard marathon and Kahlan gets back as Richard and Cara are making their way through Die Hard with a Vengeance. Richard all but skips over to her as she enters, as he always does, reminding Cara of a puppy eager to see its master. Kahlan gives him a kiss before stepping out of her heels and peeling off her light sweater, leaving her in only her gray pencil skirt and a sleeveless white shirt.
Cara lets her eyes roam appreciatively over Kahlan’s body as Richard pulls the brunette in for another kiss. She shifts to sit sideways, curling one leg underneath her and bending the other at the knee, placing the heel of her foot on the couch. When Kahlan pulls away from Richard, she smiles at her, padding over to the couch on her bare feet.
Kahlan places a hand on Cara’s thigh, leaning toward her. “Hey,” she whispers before pressing her lips to the blonde’s. She brushes her lips against Cara’s upper and lower lip in turn. The tip of her tongue sneaks out to taste Cara’s lower lip before she pulls away.
Cara licks her lips and smiles, an expression almost exclusively saved for Kahlan. “Hey.”
Richard settles back into the couch, leaving just enough space between himself and Cara for Kahlan to fit.
Kahlan sits, leaning into Richard, her head on his shoulder. She curls her legs up onto the couching, placing her feet in Cara’s lap, and reaches back, lacing her fingers with Cara’s. Cara’s free hand finds her ankle, her thumb caressing the smooth skin there.
Richard lets an arm stretch over Kahlan’s shoulders and across the back of the couch, and when the backs of his fingers brush the top of Cara’s shoulders, neither of them mind.