This first installment is just a drabble to see if there's any interest. The Grace/Karen fic world is so sparse, and I know there are fans of this ship out there! I have more written, so if the reviews or kudos demand, then I'll post, but if not then it's still cute as a stand alone :) These characters are NOT mine, but I couldn't help myself from writing a tribute to my favorite show, Will and Grace. Enjoy!

Chapter One: I Like Mine Shaken, Not Stirred

Song: GUILTY - Megan Mullally (The Sweetheart Break-in)

"God, Karen! Just how drunk are you? You're practically groping Grace!"

She smiled and turned her head, smirking seductively at Will.

"Yeah, Honey. So what if I am?"

The three of them were squished onto the small couch in Will and Grace's TV nook. They were watching Game of Thrones (or, "Titties and Dragons" as Jack affectionately referred to their favorite summer series), and in a particularly gruesome moment, Grace had hid her face in Karen's neck. The brunette instinctively reached out and placed one arm around the redhead's shoulders, but the other was running vicariously up and down her petite hip, caressing the skin beneath the woman's tank top.

Will's face scrunched with an indignant expression as he stood up, not so much surprised by Karen's boldness, but by the fact that Grace didn't seem to be very bothered by Karen's digits wandering across her body.

"It's, it's," he stammered, trying to formulate a somewhat less aggressive response than all the many insults racing through his mind faster than an improv actor on the iO West stage, "you're molesting GRACE! Your friend? Your straight friend? Your junior by twenty-" he stopped short in the middle of his sentence at the warning glare Karen shot him. He tried again.

"Ten -" Another look of impending doom from the smoldering brunette.

"Uh, I mean, slightly younger boss?"

Karen ran her hand up Grace's thigh eliciting a yelp from the red head. "Karen," she warned as she removed the offending hand from between her legs, though Will noticed she didn't drop hold of it, either.

"Wilma, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret," the brunette purred, leaning in close and motioning Will down to her level by a curling of her index finger, "your little wifey and I have been clang-a-lang-a-langing each other's trolley bells for a while now."

Will recoiled and covered his eyes in disgust as Grace jumped off the couch, her face aghast, "oh my God, KAREN!"

The brunette just slapped her own leg and laughed at herself before falling face first into the couch where Grace had just been sitting, "Yeah honey, that's about how you say my name every night!"

The redhead's skin was about the same shade as her hair. Mortified didn't even begin to describe her feelings. She couldn't believe drunken Karen had just spilled the beans about their secret affair. One look at Will told her his head was about to shoot off his body like a rocket launching for outer space. Oh BOY, was she ever going to hand it to Karen later, and not in the carnal way that the socialite was hoping for, either.

"I absolutely can not believe this! Grace, tell Karen to stop screwing around. This isn't funny! Why is she lying? I mean, she's got to be lying! There's no way you're into her, or any woman for that matter. You would have told me. Wouldn't you?"

Grace stood silently, swaying slightly on her feet. Everything was turning black around the corners of her vision and there was a definite whistling in her ears. She was going to pass out.

"Oh, get over yourself, Mary! Grace, or 'G-easy'," she air-quoted, "as I like to call her over there loves it when I crush her custard tank with my vibrating lap rocket, and there's not a thing you can say about it that's gonna make us wanna stop bumping uglies until the cows come home!"

That definitely sealed the deal; Grace muttered a quick "Hey, I'm not easy," before she felt the world slip away as she fell limp and hard for the floor. Will sprang into action and immediately knelt down to check on his unconscious best friend.

Karen sat up and grabbed her vodka from the floor. She took a long swig of Grey Goose directly from the bottle before removing it from her red lips.

"She usually does that every night, too, but not before I've gone sliding down her slippery pink slope for the tenth time in a row."

"KAREN, this is hardly the time! Grace may have hit her head," Will chastised, checking the woman's pulse.

"Oh Will, she's fine, ok? She's slammed her head a lot harder than that from me shoving her up against my bedroom wall right before we - "

"Stop! Stop right there," Will said as he stood up and jammed his hands defiantly upon his hips, "don't tell me this is true. Do you want to explain what exactly is going on here? I mean, I deal with your drinking, your pill-popping, your cheesy euphemisms, but preying on Grace? On my sweet Gracie? Karen she's not even gay! How could you do this to her?"

The expression on the brunette's face indicated he had definitely gone too far, but in the heat of the moment, he didn't care. He watched as she stood up and threw her purse on her arm, stepped over the redhead, and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

The brunette stopped and twirled on her Loubitons.

"I don't do this sort of domestic drama, Will. It takes two to tango, you know. You and Grace clearly have a lot to talk about, and I'm out of booze. So screw your judgements, 'cause I'm not dealing with this tonight," she said as she walked out the door and slammed it behind her.

Will immediately felt bad for his shallow digs, but he had been caught up in the shock of the moment. As he waited for Grace to open her eyes, a million questions ran through his mind. Though to his surprise, he wasn't the one who spoke first.

"I really fucked up here, didn't I?"

Her voice was so small.

"Oh sweetheart..."

He held her close as she started to cry.

"Will? I need to tell you something..."

Oh boy, he though, here we go.