Cara frowned at the small, bright blue object on the ground. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she reached forwards and addressed the woman who let it fall on her way out of the elevator. "You dropped your…" She picked up the small bundle of flowers. "Flower?"

She looked up just in time to see long, dark hair swishing playfully as the woman turned around. Bright blue eyes met hers, and for a moment she was uncharacteristically lost in its icy depths. The moment dragged on, allowing her to take note of how luxurious her hair looked, how smooth the freckled skin appeared, and how refined her overall air was. "Forget-me-not," the woman said suddenly, snapping Cara out of her daze.

Cara frowned at the words the brunette offered so carelessly, but despite trying, she could not express her displeasure at the vague explanation. Another moment went by, and for the life of it, Cara could not understand why her body didn't listen to her mind. It felt like she was sinking in mud, making her limbs thick and heavy. Whatever it was, it affected her ability to judge the character before her, too, because she couldn't make out whether the woman was waiting expectantly for her reply or if she was as dazed as she was.

The doors started closing, but she did not – could not – tear her eyes away from those blue orbs. She took notice of the woman leaning to the side so they could keep eye contact until the doors closed fully, but neither of them seemed to be in the right state of mind to keep them from closing.

With the shake of the elevator, the impasse Cara found herself in was lifted.

"What the…?" she asked herself.

Cara stood in front of her mailbox, flower still in hand. For a reason that was annoyingly unfamiliar to her, she couldn't chuck the blue plant away. It was long dead – or at least dying, she was no expert on vegetation – and it held no sentiment to her, but her body simply refused to throw it away.

Forget me not.

The words resounded in her head, and she was able to shake them as much as the flowers in her hand.

"A long time ago a knight and his lover walked side by side along the river." Cara looked up and saw the same woman, leaning against the open door, hands clasped behind her back. "The knight reached down to pluck some flowers for his lady, but fell into the water because of the weight of his armour. While he drowned, he threw her the flowers and told her not to forget him." Her eyes lowered to the flower in her hand, and suddenly, the story made sense.

"Then the knight was an ignorant fool," Cara snapped, taking the woman aback. She turned fully to the brunette, canting her hips and folding her arms to take on an indignant pose. "Are you stalking me?"

The surprise on her face was quickly replaced by amusement, much to Cara's annoyance. She moved one of her hands to show she was holding a large, black, plastic bag. "Trash," she answered simply. The blonde remained unresponsive. "I haven't seen you around before, have you just moved in here?"

Cara pursed her lips. The way she approached her with a sappy story and mysterious words rubbed her entirely the wrong way, but she was unable to deny her attraction towards the other woman as her eyes were drawn once again to those icy depths. She was no good. "No," she responded curtly, turning back to open her mailbox.

She could only assume that the woman was watching her – and her mailbox – because then she commented on her home. "We live exactly a floor lower, right across the hallway in 203," she noted. "Or, well, I don't, but—"

"What?" Cara asked impatiently, throwing her mailbox closed.

The woman knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "Sorry?"

"What do you want?" she explained none too gently, giving her a pointed look. "What is the purpose of your elaborate small talk?"

The brunette blinked, not quite understanding that she needed a reason to speak, but quickly recovered. She offered a smile and her hand to shake. "I'm Kahlan."

Cara looked down at the hand, then back up at the woman.

She brushed past Kahlan on her way back up, not even bothering to answer. She made it a point not to look up at the confused or possibly hurt expression. She had a feeling it would be her downfall.

It was then that she caught air of her perfume, and it took all she had not to stop and inhale. While it wasn't the most delicious scent she had ever come across, it stirred something deep within her, rattling her foundation. She cursed herself for being affected at all, but managed to walk away without pause. All that she knew was that she had to get away from such a source of conflicting thoughts.

"Is everything okay, ma'am?"

Cara grunted her affirmative even as she scowled down at the coffee she had ordered. She turned away from the ever growing line with her order in hand. The blue and yellow floral pattern on the cup was eerily familiar, and she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of annoyance when she finally placed the flower.

Forget me not.

Her mind conjured up the picture of Kahlan, standing before the elevator. She could practically see her lips form the words, could enjoy the flawless skin and the freckles that decorated said skin. Nothing stood out as much as her eyes however. And it took a car honking for her to realize she was getting lost in her imagination.

Cara frowned at herself, and then at the annoyed driver, crossing the road in her own time. A woman such as herself did not lose focus over fleeting memories and certainly not ones that involved a girl.

She dismissed the memory with a shake of the head and went on about her business.

Cara disliked days where sunlight streamed directly into the parlour, especially if she had been out until ungodly hours the night before. Today was such a day, which was why she didn't bother looking up from her place behind the counter when someone entered the room. Greeting customers with cheerful hello's wasn't in her job description as a tattooist. In fact, no one who worked there ever bounced around with a skip in their step. Maybe it was because of their shady employer, Darken Rahl, but that was a different matter entirely.

"Cara?" A warm hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Cara made the mistake of looking up at the person and into the light. Her head stung with the force with which the light hit her, and before her eyes could adjust, she already saw a distinct outline and a flowing white dress. A moment passed, and standing before her was none other than Kahlan, serene features and flowing dark hair in check. Her smile was melancholic and light was pouring around her like she was the divine Goddess herself. She was mouthing words, but no sound made it through. In a rare moment of confusion, Cara's facial features slackened.

"Are you okay?" The ethereal woman blurred, disintegrating and falling away to reveal a concerned Dahlia. She was wearing a white tank top and stonewashed jeans, not even close to the majesty she had witnessed mere moments ago. "You're looking at me like a starving fat man looks at a free all-you-can-eat banquet."

Cara's impressed look melted into one of annoyed disbelief.

"That's better," Dahlia said with a smile, patting her shoulder once more before continuing into the parlour.

When the woman was mostly out of range, Cara looked down at her hands, grimacing at the implication that she had liked seeing Kahlan. Maybe she should start seeing a therapist right about now.

A thudding headache seeped through.

Or maybe she should stop drinking that much right before a work day.

"Cara?"

The word was a mere whisper, a breeze against her skin. It felt cold, but instead of chilling her, it warmed her to her very core. She could feel the steady heartbeat in her own ribcage increasing ever so slightly, but for some reason, her limbs felt heavy and sluggish, not under her control. Hair was tickling her face, further coaxing her awake. It didn't feel like her choice when she opened her eyes.

"They're gone."

Again, Kahlan in white. Cara would've felt exasperated and immensely displeased about seeing her once again, except she wasn't. If anything, the woman that hovered over her, smiling contentedly, made a wave of satisfaction fall over her. All she could think was that the brunette was not afraid to touch her, which intensified the carefully hidden delight.

The sky was blue behind the brunette, trees swaying gently in the wind. She could smell pine, smoke, and the general outdoors. But all that melted away when a hand came to rest on her cheek. Blue eyes sparkled with glee. Her own hand rose to cover the one on her cheek, and out of the corner of her eyes, she could see that she was wearing red. The red symbolized something she was proud of.

"We have all the time in the world."

Her voice was calm and at ease, but at the end of the sentence, words rang painfully in her ears and tore at her very soul until she jolted upright and was gasping for air.

Cara raised a hand to her thundering heart, looking around her empty, dark apartment. She had fallen asleep on her couch, in front of the quiet TV. Quickly giving herself an once-over, she saw that she was wearing her jeans and low cut black shirt. No gloves in sight. With a steadying breath, she ran her hands over her face; images, feelings and scents still lingering clearly.

There was a knock at her door.

Pushing the dream into the back of her mind, she got up, glad for the distraction. Once at the door, however, all relief melted away. Through the peephole, she could clearly see Kahlan, waiting patiently for her to open the door. Her eyes were unfocused as she stood there, hands tucked away in the pocket of the oversized white hoody she was wearing.

Cara's breath came warm against the door, and she realized what position she was in, hands flattened against the door. She couldn't help but be captivated by the woman in white, and she hated herself for it like she never had before. She would not have any kind of attachments to a girl she didn't even know. She had not survived this life with petty crushes and wouldn't start now.

And then blue eyes met green.

Cara knew Kahlan couldn't see her, so she didn't flinch back. She couldn't tear herself away, but she would be damned if she opened the door for that girl.

Kahlan averted her eyes and, after a little hesitation, simply walked away.

Cara scowled as she disappeared. Along with the sense of relief, a feeling of loss washed over her, hollowing out her chest.

Cara couldn't help it; she started to imagine what Kahlan would be like. In her dreams and hallucinations – which she still considered searching help for – the woman seemed so loving and good that she could see her as nothing less than an elementary school teacher. With the unearthly grace she carried herself, she could see her doing some fancy Asian fighting sport, too.

Cara caught herself before she could become intrigued by the idea of Kahlan having a dangerous side to her, and tried to focus on the tattoo designs in front of her. Her latest customer had this crazy idea about a hummingbird, so she had been staring at the retched bird for the past—how long was it now? "Too long," she huffed, getting up out of her chair. It was certainly too long if she thought about possible careers for that girl.

Before she even got to the main room, loud laughter and Dahlia's familiar voice caught her ears. "Maybe you should come back when you're both sober," Dahlia tried.

"No, we want matching tattoos on our lower backs," an unfamiliar female voice explained in something akin to a giddy, drunken slur. "I want 'No way am I' and she can have 'Richard's bitch.'"

"Denee!" another voice protested, bursting out in laughter. It sent a shiver down Cara's back. When she finally rounded the corner, she saw an annoyingly familiar brunette hanging from a blonde's shoulder.

"My co-worker will take care of you," Dahlia said, turning two sets of blue eyes on her.

"Party," Cara muttered to herself, trying to work up something that resembled a smile.

"Isn't it supposed to hurt?" Kahlan asked, squirming in her chair.

Cara, previously engaged in testing how smooth the skin of the woman's lower back was, snapped to attention. "It's special ink," she said simply, continuing to write on Kahlan's lower back with a permanent marker. They didn't have a policy that said they weren't allowed to tattoo drunks, but most of them were generally sane enough not to do it. Instead, they made up crazy offers and drew whatever their clients wanted for a small price without being permanently scarred.

As it was, her present client had been tormenting her for a few weeks and she'd have a little revenge of her own, however petty.

Kahlan giggled, and Cara had to make an effort not to smile in return. Instead, she drew up her upper lip in a grimace. Her mind had deteriorated because of the consistent hallucinations and silly feelings, causing her to think the brunette's mood was even slightly infectious. Shaking it off, she continued to write the sentence on smooth, porcelain skin, ignoring the pesky ideas touching said skin invoked.

"You remind me of roses," Kahlan said suddenly. "Beautiful from a distance, but when you get closer, there're thorns all over and unless you know how to handle them, you'll get hurt. Then there's the symbolism. Roses are many things, but in your case, I think the secretive aspect fits best."

"You don't say," Cara commented absentmindedly. Was it just her or did Kahlan know too much about flowers?

"Yes. I asked around, but no one seems to know who you are and what you do. Richard thinks you might be into drugs for no apparent reason, yet here you are. Do you have a tattoo?"

Cara tried not to roll her eyes. She needed to keep them focused on the job at hand or else she might not get paid. Having a squiggly, talkative drunk on her hands didn't help, however. When the movements increased, she decided to answer. "Yes."

It worked momentarily. "What is it? Where is it? Can I see it?"

"Maybe if you'll stop moving," she answered noncommittally. Surprisingly enough, it worked.

"Well? Can I see it?"

"I don't know, are you an elementary school teacher?" The only reason Cara didn't palm her face at her own question was because her hands were still busy with the permanent marker. It seemed like more than just her smile was infectious. Stupidity caught on fast, too.

"No. I like kids, and Denee – my sister – has a little baby boy, but I couldn't see myself—"

"Do you always talk this much or are just keen on annoying me?" Cara asked, applying the finishing touches on Kahlan's lower back.

"I think you're just always grumpy," the brunette giggled.

Cara raised her eyebrows when she realized she wasn't offended at all. In fact, she found the comment as befitting as anything in the midst of the woman's drunken rambling. Shaking her head, she backed away. "You're done. Go see your sister."

Kahlan got up and shot Cara a winning smile even as she backed away out of the room. She gestured to her own face. "I like the glasses."

Cara pretended to busy herself with her tools, waiting until she was finally gone. When she was, a small smile tugged at her lips.

Another AU!

I didn't intend to upload this, but there's a certain theme about this that I love and wanted to share. All in all, I just wrote this for the heck of it.

Silly Panda, signing off!

ps. Eat or Die is on the verge of being updated. In case you're obsessively checking this author's note, hahaha.