A/N: Hey look! Plot! And yes, a wee bit of smut, but PLOT! And I realize the term 'come' probably wasn't around in the '20s, but I couldn't find any other euphemisms for the period, although I'm sure there were some that were just the bee's knees!

Conflicting Interests

Richard hadn't realized how long he and Cat had been occupied, but when he got to his room and looked at his watch, he saw that it was after three thirty in the morning. He shook his head and gave a small smile, amazed that he'd lost himself for so long. It had been nice to completely forget everything about his life for a while, for his world to be nothing more than himself, Cat and whatever she had in hand. He undressed, wincing when his shirt pulled away from some of the scratches on his back. He neatly put away his things, set his mask on the small table near the bed, made sure he had a gun nearby, and laid out on his stomach. It was uncomfortable, because he was a good deal longer than his bed and his feet hung off the end, but there was no way he could sleep on his back or either of his sides without irritating his array of welts, scratches and bruises. His body was ready for sleep, but his mind was racing, replaying the evening, contemplating the emotions he had felt at various moments, examining himself in the aftermath.

He decided he should get over the shame and just accept that he liked it, and he would eventually go back to her. She was going to bring out the worst in him, but after the brief taste of it this evening, he wanted it. He wanted to let loose, forget himself. Or, maybe as Cat had said at the start of the evening, find himself.

He made enough peace with himself to drift off for a few hours sleep. When he woke up, he hurt. He inhaled sharply as he climbed off his bed. Between the uncomfortable sleeping position, and his abused back, moving was painful. A hot soak helped somewhat, although when he was dressed he realized his holster sat right on top of a couple of scratches, no matter how he tried to adjust it, and he didn't have any collars high enough to cover up some of the bite marks on his neck. Well, nothing to be done for it at this point.

He met with Nucky shortly after ten that morning. Nucky regarded Richard with a serious look in his deep set eyes.

"I take it your discussion with Cat didn't go very well," he finally said.

"We didn't really. mm. ...Talk."

"Jesus Christ! I sent you over there to get her out of that house! Not to fuck her! I expected you would just go in there and shoot her!"

"I won't shoot her, mm." He knew that the moment he lied to her about not being there because of Nucky. "I'd rather get. Her to leave, mm. Peacefully. Or at least...try to."

"Don't let her sink her claws into you, Richard," Nucky said, an almost father-like tone in his voice. "Those are dangerous games she plays." Richard gave a small nod but said nothing.

"Well, then... I need you to go to New York for me. Meet up with Rothstein's boys, Luciano and Lansky. They know what's going on."

"How long, mm. Will I be gone?"

"No more than a day or two. Why? Got a hot date scheduled?" The sarcasm in Nucky's voice was unmistakable, and Richard felt his nerves bristle at the not-quite insult.

"I wanted, mm. To know how much...to pack," he replied, his harsh voice all the more rough coming through clenched teeth.

"Like I said, a day or two. Pack accordingly. Come see me when you get back into town."

Richard nodded and turned away, stepping to the door.

"I want her out by September first, Richard. One way or the other."

Richard looked back at Nucky, nodded, and left to go pack.

Cat also hurt that morning, but for the most part she adored it. The one part she didn't was her shoulders, which must have jarred harder than she first thought when Richard dropped her legs. She carefully moved them as she stretched, thought she should be okay after a day or two. At least, she hoped she would be. She wasn't as young as she used to be, and she hadn't been strung up like that in a couple of years.

She groped for her glasses and sat up. She looked around the attic and thought. Richard was a good deal on her mind. He had potential. And he was probably inexperienced enough that she could easily mold him to what she needed him to be. She wondered how long it would be before he came back. She imagined he would try to stay away as long as he could, but he would be back. He just needed some time to process it all. But if she was lucky, he would have discovered that the brief taste of power he had over her was addicting, and when he came back, it would be with fewer restraints. She didn't have much choice but to wait and see what would happen.

She got up and threw on a light robe, straightened up the attic (she hadn't had the energy to walk downstairs to her room after Richard had left.) then made her way downstairs. She stepped into the kitchen, where she found Robin making coffee.

"Well, good morning," Robin said merrily. "I was wondering if you'd be joining the world before noon-time." Cat leaned against the counter and took the mug Robin offered.

"It's not that late, is it?" Cat asked.

"Going on eleven. Of course, it's been a while since you've worked such late hours. And since I heard most of it, I know it was...vigorous."

Cat smiled into her cup. "We didn't keep you up too late, I hope?"

"It's no big deal. I'm just glad you enjoyed yourself. But,...I'm not saying you don't know what you're doing when it comes to clients, Cat. But, is it wise to mess with that man? I mean, he's working for Nucky, and I don't need to remind you that Nucky wants you gone."

"I've been fucking men like this for almost twenty years, Robin. They change, but the things that drive them don't. He's got a..strength in him...and I think, if I can work him just right, I can use him to take down Nucky."

"Just be careful with this one, Cat. I think he's unlike any one else you've ever dealt with."

"I know," Cat replied, a slightly dazed, almost dreamlike look in her eyes. "That's what makes him so exciting."

A week passed, and then two. Cat decided to move back into the attic. Not only would it make things more convenient whenever Richard showed up, but she could use her old room for another girl. So she hauled all of her possessions back upstairs and spent a few days arranging things, and another full day deep cleaning the bedroom she'd first entertained Richard in. It was the day after that, as she went through the mail, that she came across a letter addressed to Mistress Cat. The postmark was local, but there was no return address on the envelope. Curious, she opened it and pulled out the letter.

*Mistress, I will not lie. There haven't been very many moments these past two weeks where you have not been on my mind in one way or another. Not all of these thoughts have been flattering to you, but I imagine that wretched smirk of your is tugging at the corner of your beautiful, vulgar mouth, knowing this. It seems like the kind of thing you delight in. So yes, I have spent the past two weeks thinking of you, trying to determine if I love you or I hate you. It could be either, or perhaps both. I'm not entirely certain. One thing I AM certain of is that you do not know the meaning of submission. So, please, familiarize yourself with it.* And here, he had cut 'submission' from the dictionary and neatly glued it to the paper. Cat shook her head and continued reading. *But don't worry about that right now. You actually being submissive (and I mean submissive as defined above, not your loose definition of the word) will come in time. The next time I visit (yes, you were right, you fucking bitch, there will be a next time, but I will decide when. You should know, I am infinitely patient. I have a feeling you are not.) I think I would prefer something along these lines:* and here he went on to describe what he would like. Cat was surprised that he had even entertained this thought, even more surprised he wanted to explore it. *This, I am sure fits with your nature and personality. If you have no objections, of course.* It was signed 'Sincerely, Richard Harrow' which Cat was thankful for since she had no idea what his name was, and he had placed his address at the bottom. Cat grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and carefully wrote her reply.

*Master, you've been on my mind a great deal as well. I still have a few reminders of our encounter. * Mainly, her right shoulder still hurt if she moved it certain ways, and there were still a few bruises, and a spot on her neck where a bite mark was still visible. *I appreciate your concern regarding my knowledge and your attempt to make sure I understand something. Please rest assured I was already familiar with the meaning of the word. But as I said, you must MAKE ME. You gave me too many opportunities to be defiant. Learn to control me completely, and I will submit to your will. (In others words, stop being so fucking nice and let yourself go!) As for your request, it sounds quite delightful, and I have no objections. I will let the girls know to let you in, any time day or night. Personally, I don't think you'll be able to go through with it. In fact, I'm willing to bet on it. If you do, it'll be on the house. But if I'm right, and you can't go through with it, you'll owe me a favor. Take your time in coming. The anticipation makes it all the more exciting. I'll end this letter by giving you the satisfaction of knowing that each night, before I go to sleep, I've been thinking of your gorgeous cock, remembering how good it felt when you were ramming it into me. I masturbate until just before I come, then I stop. But I keep myself near that peak by imagining you fucking me. Some nights just the thought of it can make me come hard. God, I can't wait until you come back and fuck me again.

She didn't sign it, he would know who it was from. Let's see his patience deal with that, she thought as she folded the letter, placed it into an envelope and addressed it. She waited three days before mailing it, no need to seem too eager, even though she really couldn't wait until he came back.

Richard was laying on his bed, Cat's letter clutched in his hand as he read it for what must have been the hundredth time in the week since he'd received it. Each time he read it, he had to suppress the urge to get dressed and go to her. It was getting harder and harder to do, but he finally managed to bury it. After a while, he smoothed the letter and carefully refolded it, placing it in the drawer of his nightstand. Then he laid back, locked his hands behind his head, bent his knees so his feet weren't hanging off the end of his bed, and spent ten minutes letting his mind wander to fantasies of Cat. She was bringing out the worst in him, even if she was only in his mind. There was no telling what would happen when he was actually with her.

He kept temptation at bay for three more days. Finally he could no longer resist and made his way to her, creeping up to the attic once he was told where to find her. He quietly stepped into the room, it was illuminated only by the light seeping in from the windows. Moving as silently as he could, he made his way to the bed. She was laying on her side, sheet loosely draped over her body. In sleep, she looked kind, soft, and innocent...no taunting, no mockery, no smirk. She was serene and quiet. He reached out and swept aside a tendril of hair that had fallen in front of her eye, caressing the curve of her ear lightly as he tucked the lock behind it. She stirred at his touch, rolled over and blinked up at him. All she could see was a blurry silhouette, but it was an unmistakable blurry silhouette.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I, mm. Can't go through...with it. Not when, mm. You're so... calm." He ran his fingers along the underside of her jaw. "I'm sorry to, mm. Disappoint you. Let me know, mm...what that. Favor is." He turned and walked away.

"Richard, wait," Cat called as he reached the door. He looked back at her, saw that she was sitting up, the sheet held modestly in front of her. Her black hair was a riotous spill surrounding her head. Again, Richard was struck with how innocent she could look. "It seems silly for you to have come all the way across town only to leave right away," she said, licking her lips. She glanced down, then back at Richard. "Why don't you stay the night? And in the morning, well..." she trailed off and gave a small shrug. "We can see what happens then."

Richard hesitated, regarded her closely.

"I understand, if you'd rather not," she said softly, looking down. "I just thought, maybe..." and she trailed off, unsure how to finish.

"Mm, alright," Richard said after a moment. But he just stood by the door until she made a small waving motion with her hand. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the door, along with his knife belt, then he slowly crossed back to the bed, displaying that uncertainty that often plagued him in those situations that seemed to echo what a normal life might be like, a life where he felt like he was welcome and loved and capable of loving back. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his shoes and socks, tucking them neatly under the bed, then removed his shirt, carefully folding it before setting it on the floor with his holster right beside it in easy reach, just in case. He looked over his shoulder at Cat, who after a moment said "It's dark, and I don't have my glasses on. I know you're looking at me, but I can't tell what you're trying to say or ask or whatever."

"I, mm. Was wondering how...comfortable. You mind me, mm. Getting."

"As comfortable as you want," she replied. Richard nodded and slipped out of his pants, leaving him only in his undershirt and shorts, placing them neatly on top of his shirt before he drew his long legs onto the bed and curled up into a tight ball, almost on the very edge of the bed, his back to Cat.

"You sleep with your mask on?" Cat asked quietly.

"My face isn't, mm. The kind of thing...you want to see. First thing. Mm, in the morning. Trust me."

"I really don't mind," she said. "But if you'd rather not, I understand. Good night." She settled herself back down and closed her eyes, her back to his, and her breathing soon becoming deep and even. Richard's lips briefly twitched into a smile. She was starting to trust him.

Cat feigned sleep until she thought Richard was just about out, then she snuggled a little closer to him, her back barely brushing his. His body uncurled slightly, and he drifted off to sleep. As the night wore on, Richard slowly stretched out, the first time since he'd come to Atlantic City that he slept in a bed that he could actually do so. He would occasionally partially wake when he rolled onto mask, after the third or fourth time he took the mask off and set it on the nightstand, then went back to sleep, at one point he rolled over and snuggled against Cat. She gave a drowsy, satisfied smile, figuring it wouldn't be long before he would do anything she asked of him.

Richard ended up taking over the entire bed before the night was through. Cat eventually got up, put on her glasses and went to sit in an old chair she'd placed in the corner of the attic. She sat and looked at Richard. He had ended up on a diagonal across the bed, long limbs flung every which way. It was quite different from the tight ball he had gone to sleep in. He didn't snore, but his mangled cheek produced a heavier breathy sound than usual. One of his hands was laying in a patch of light, his graceful fingers curled toward his palm. He turned his head slightly as he muttered something in his sleep that Cat couldn't make out. This left his damaged side open to Cat's view. She supposed it made sense that he was uncomfortable with his injury...that was half of his face reduced to gaping holes and thick scars. But (and she should probably explain this to him, it might make things easier eventually) Cat had a thing for scars. She looked at them as something to be proud of...it was a mark of survival. She wondered what exactly had happened, wondered if he would tell her if she asked. She thought about climbing on top of him, licking his scars until he woke up, see what kind of fuck he would give, but she brushed the thought away as she realized just how quiet the house was. It truly disturbed her, and her thoughts turned from Richard to what else she could do to hold Nucky at bay.

Richard woke slowly from the most restful, comfortable night's sleep he had had in longer than he cared to remember. It was nice to wake up and not have to uncurl stiffened limbs, or stretch a back that didn't want to unbend. It also helped the the mattress was so much softer than he was used to. He would have loved to lay there forever, but he sensed something wasn't quite right with the situation. He lifted his head and looked around, finally spotting Cat in the chair, gazing out the window. She looked in his direction when he sat up.

"Hello," she said softly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mm, yes, thank you." He realized he was taking up the entire bed and apologized."It's alright," she said quietly. Richard noticed the sad look in her eyes, then, and asked if everything was alright. He honestly expected her to snap at him for being so intrusive, but she surprised him by saying "Sometimes I get very depressed, thinking about how lively we used to be here. Especially in the small hours of the morning when there's no sounds. I remember, there was always something happening, and it was usually quiet loud. Well, it was when I was young. But now? If we get ten paying customers in a week, we consider ourselves busy. I should probably just give up, close the house...let Nucky have it all. But, how do you just give up the only home you've ever known?"

The look in her eyes almost tore Richard's heart out.

"You've lived here. Mm, you're whole life?" he asked, sliding to the edge of the bed.

Cat nodded but said nothing.

"Why, mm, does Nucky want you. Out?" he asked.

"He wants to demolish the entire neighborhood, build some fancy hotel and shops, make this part of town someplace tourists would want to visit. He doesn't realize, or care, more likely, that everyone who lives here lives here because this is either where they've always lived here, or because they can't afford to live anywhere else. No, it's not the fanciest part of town, but...we're trying so hard to keep it together, helping each other out as we can."

Richard gave a small 'hmm'. He had expected her to lie to him, but she didn't.

"Nucky needs me out because I've somehow become the leader of this neighborhood. As long as I'm fighting him, everyone else will. So that's why he stopped selling me liquor. People like to drink and fuck. If they can't do both in one place, they'll find someplace else to go."

"What if, mm. I...could get you liquor?"

"It would certainly be helpful, but I don't think your boss would take too kindly to it. Does he even know you've been here?"

Richard looked down at his hands and said nothing. "Oh, so you're sneaking behind his back, giving custom to a business he wants gone. He's going to pitch a fit once he finds out. And he will find out. Everything makes its way back to Nucky."

"He can, mm. Be oblivious to things...he doesn't. Want to see," Richard said, looking up and meeting her eyes. He thought about Eli Thompson. How the sheriff had plotted to kill his own brother, and worked with Jimmy and the Commodore to depose Nucky, and how Eli was still alive, still at Nucky's side, and yet Jimmy was dead. Dead at Nucky's hand. Cat tilted her head just slightly and said "Like the fact that one of his employees seems to be working against him?" Again Richard said nothing, although he didn't lower his head. He let Cat study him as she searched his face to determine the truth of his words. "Why?" she finally asked.

"He, mm. Killed Jimmy. He also, mm. Refuses to let me...kill the man. Who, mm. Murdered Jimmy's...wife."

"Why don't you just kill Nucky?"

"I...have reasons. They're. mm...complicated. I might, in the end, but I...want him to know that. All actions, mm. Have consequences. No matter who...you are."

Cat had to keep her excitement down. Could it really be this easy? She didn't completely believe it, but maybe...

"Would you be willing to help me fight him?" Cat asked. "Help the people in this neighborhood keep their homes and businesses?"

"How?" Richard asked.

"Get the house some liquor, and we'll go from there."

"Alright," Richard nodded. "Give me a, mm. Few days...to see what. I can pull together."