She smiled at the moon, shining innocently above her as she held Jack's hand and led her friends into her home. They had taken her out drinking after her husband's funeral, celebrating his life. It was a sweet gesture, and she was thankful that they cared so much, but she was fine. If she had to be honest, she wasn't really that upset. She had lost her husband, and of course it was very tragic, but her love for him had died when he was arrested, and it never returned. She barely even knew him.

They all changed into their pajamas, and Jack insisted that they play in Karen's wardrobe. She laid upon a lounge chair, Will's head on her lap, as they lazily watched their friends play with her clothes, trying on scarves and such. She and Will had gotten closer during her divorce and Stanley's death, and it was no longer unusual for them to be so close. She ran her fingers through his hair and took another sip of her beer.

"Oh, Jack, what's that on your arm?" Grace stopped her giggling for a moment and pointed to a bruised spot on his Antecubital.

"I got my STD testing done a few days ago. You know, just for kicks. Every five guys I make sure I'm still clean."

"Oh my God, me too!" They giggled and continued joking around about socialites and their oddities.

Will moved a bit and looked into her eyes. He looked sleepy, and she smiled at the effect the alcohol had taken on him. She handed him her bottle of beer and he took a sip before setting it on the table next to them.

"I'm going to assume Jack is fine? He tells you everything." She smiled and nodded at his question. Jack had called her as soon as he got the results of the testing, as per her request, and he was indeed healthy. "Last time I had one of those, the nurse kept jabbing me with the needle. It hurt like hell." She giggled a bit, softly.

"I've never had one." And she hadn't. She never felt the need to do so when she was always faithful to her husbands.

"Really?" His voice became louder and she rolled her eyes. Yes, he was definitely drunk. Then the interest of their friends suddenly peaked. Jack suggested that they all add up their sexual partners from over the years.

She watched as her friends' faces contorted in thought. It was odd to her that they actually had to think about it, actually had to count. She already knew she had only been with four men in her life, if she didn't count the girl who went down on her in college. One college professor and three husbands had been with her, simple. Grace giggled and announced her number: twenty-seven. Jack's was thirty. Will smiled and revealed that he had only been with one woman and six men. They laughed and made fun of him, for various reasons, but he responded that they were only childish.

"So, Karebear, what's your number?" She faltered for a moment, unprepared to reveal her answer. They saw her as a promiscuous being, a woman who was some sort of sexual goddess, but she just wasn't. She was good at it, and she knew that, but it wasn't something she wanted to do with every person she met, and she hadn't.

"Oh, Poodle, I'll let you guess." She smiled and he giggled a drunken giggle.

"Forty-five." She laughed, pushing his knee. "More?" She took a drink of her beer and sighed. They awaited her response, and she felt her cheeks turn pink at the fact that all eyes were on her.

"Why would I tell you when you will just make fun of me for something that shouldn't be used as a bragging right?"

"You're a virgin?" Will's question made them laugh, but it didn't take their conversational topic away. She decided to just get it over with.

"Four." They laughed. She hated that they laughed.

----------

She was on her balcony, smoking a cigarette after her friends had passed out in her bed. Her husband was dead. She didn't miss him, but the idea that she had to start over again gave her chills. A nervous feeling overtook her for a moment and she suddenly felt that she needed a cigarette, even though she rarely smoked.

"What are you doing out here?" Will's voice found her, making her jump a bit. She turned to look at him, shrugging. His eyes were a bit red, but he looked sober, and he took a seat on a lounge chair next to hers.

"I was just thinking."

"Thinking about Stan?"

"Not really, honey. I don't want to bore you." She smiled and put out her cigarette in an ashtray.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know." That was one of the things she liked about a friendship with Will, he actually cared. While she was always trying to avoid speaking about problems and thoughts, he was always trying to bring them into the open.

"I'm just wondering where I'll go from here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Another bar, another night out with her friends, but she didn't feel much like partying. It was always the same with the four of them, more or less. They either went to Will's apartment for dinner and movies or out to a bar. She enjoyed going to his apartment much more than bars, if she had to be honest. It wasn't about partying around others, dancing and carrying on, but about the time she could spend with her friends. She sometimes felt that she was a little too old for the bar scene.

It didn't used to be that way. When she first met them she enjoyed going out and making a complete fool of herself, it was fun. No, the change happened when Stan was arrested. It didn't feel fun anymore. Instead, she saw bar-hopping as a waste of her time. She began staying home more often, watching a bit more television, and sometimes staying in bed all day. Then she had to wonder, what in life wasn't a waste of time?

"Hey, baby." A man came to sit next to her at the bar, smiling sickly as he placed his hand upon the flesh of her thigh. She began to think that her skirt may have been too short for the place they chose, his hand was touching her bare skin. "What do you say you and I…"

"Get your hand off me and get lost." Her voice was cold, and she pushed his hand away with force. She met his eyes, venom shining behind her own, and he seemed surprised.

"Excuse me?"

"I said get lost." She turned to face him a bit more. "Do you really think that's the way to get into my pants? You're rude and offensive, and your shirt is too small. So take a hike."

"Listen here, bitch, I have half a mind to…"

"Well, get out of here and find the other half!" Will walked up behind her and placed a hand upon her back, looking to protect her if she needed it. The man was shocked, angry, his mouth in a firm line, as he backed away from the scene. "Oh, honey, I think I'm going to call it a night." She stood from her chair, but her legs buckled beneath her. Will caught her arm before she could fully stumble, and he began to laugh.

"I can't believe Karen Walker is drunk." She rolled her eyes and stood upon her shaky feet.

"I'm not drunk. Just a little buzzed." He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her to the exit.

"Actually, I was coming to get you. We all decided to spend the night at my place. You want to come over?" She didn't even need time to think. His apartment always seemed more like home than hers, anyway.

"Of course, Mary. You better be cooking breakfast, though, or the deal is off."