A/N: I've changed the tone of this chapter a little but I think it suits Karen well within this story. Hope it doesn't feel weird. Thanks for reading! :)
The New Year couldn't have started worst for Karen.
She was blaming mostly her shoes at the moment. She shouldn't have put her yellow heels on. She knew those shoes were bad luck - last time she put them on, she was accused of murder after all- even if they were perfect for her blue dress. She shouldn't have drunk those fruity cocktails that fast. She shouldn't have smile that way at the hot waiter. And she definitely shouldn't have lost her panties in that well-stocked food pantry. Fuck, she even had some canapés leftovers stuck on her hair.
Fuck you, Foggy.
Sober-Karen knew it wasn't fair to blame her friend- that it wasn't his fault if she had acted like a horny and silly teenager in his New Year's Eve lawyer's firm party, but Drunk-Karen did need someone to blame apart from herself and her shoes, and blaming the person that had invited her to the fucking party just felt right at that moment.
In fact-
Fuck you, Foggy and Marci.
That and also –
"Fuck you, Frank Castle!"
She shouted it to the night as she was closing the cab door, and Drunk-Karen felt slightly better- her fucking yellow heels in one hand as she walked inside her building.
She shouldn't have gone to the damn party to begin with. She wasn't planning to, but Foggy had insisted, and the truth was that she needed some socialization time with the rest of the world outside The Bulletin from time to time and it was the last night of the year after all.
It seemed that she needed the hands of that hot waiter Jess- Jim? - on her ass too. When he had asked her to go to the back door during his break, Half-Drunk-Karen had said yes.
Everything was going quite well. Jim – Jess? – had a playful tongue and some expert hands that were bringing shivers all along her body as the canapés' trays were falling around them, and it did feel good to be touch after so long, to have her back pressed to the wall – hips pushing hard against hers and teeth bitten her neck.
But then it happened. Once Jess – Jim's? fingers started working inside her, she had moaned the name. The fucking name.
"Who is Frank?"
Sober-Karen felt so embarrassed that she left the pantry running without saying any other word. She had just stopped along her way to find a cab and go home, to drank a couple of more fancy cocktails in one glup - leaving her panties and what she was expecting to be more than one orgasm's session behind.
Happy Fucking New Year.
While entering her apartment at three in the morning, Sober-Karen just wanted to pass out in her bed under her blankets until the shame disappeared or sleep for a couple of years, maybe. But she was uncomfortably wet along her thighs and somehow still excited, so Drunk-Karen had decided to find some release first on the shower.
She had never thought of Frank in that explicitly sexual way before. Sure she was attracted to him. More than that- she was hypnotized by his story. She had been so obsessed in her quest to find his humanity since they day she saw that bullet wound in his skull, that it almost had cost her her own life, and by finding it, she had found hers. Frank Castle had reconciled her with the things she had done to survive. They share a bond and she was very aware of that, just as much as she knew he was aware too, even if he didn't realized the extent of how important it was for her to have some presence in her life that didn't judge when she was holding a gun.
But Karen had never dared to fantasize about them being physical. The weight of his lost was too much, his pain so overwhelming when he opened up to her- his body feeling so unsecure every time they touched to think that they could hold that kind of intimacy. Even in the elevator that day, standing so close to each other, the moment passed like a ghost. The shadow of a kiss that was just that- a shadow. But this? His name had slipped from her mouth at his own will when the fingers of another man were fucking her and now she was feeling that urge, now she wanted to be him biting her neck and pressing her body hard against the wall.
Karen dropped her handbag along with her heels as soon as she walked into her leaving room – scarf and coat barely on the couch. The zipper of her dress got stuck as she tried to unzipped it in her way to her bathroom and she decided to take her dress off over her head not without a little of contortionism in the process. When Karen finally arrived to her room, she was completely naked.
Frank Castle was right there.
He was just a silhouette among the shadows outside her window, standing in the fire escape, but it was definitely him.
Oh, the fucking irony.
Sober-Karen wanted to run far far away. Drunk-Karen just started to laugh quite hysterically for more than necessary.
"And here it is, Frank Castle in one of his yet another stellar appearances walking into my life again."
Frank didn't say a word and he didn't move, and Karen wasn't even sure that he could really hear her at all from the other side of the closed window. At least he had had the decency of not breaking into her apartment while she wasn't there, but still.
Drunk-Karen took a couple of steps forward- exposing half of her naked body to the moonlight because it was her damn house and it was her fucking room and why the hell not.
"You wanna come inside? You wanna come inside and fuck me, Frank? Because fucking is what I should be doing right now with Jim or Jess or both, instead of feeling sorry for myself for not having heard a word from you since Christmas Day."
Instead of wanting to be fucking you.
Karen had woken up alone that day in a cold couch in her even colder office. She had a blanket covering her that she hadn't placed there, the dinner's leftovers of the night before where gone and she had hated it. She had hated him for bringing her another moment of comfort and care, just to take it away from her like that.
And now Frank was right there, a dark and unresponding presence in the middle of the night with his black coat that Karen was sure it was in the process of becoming a statue if he kept staying in the cold that still for much longer.
Fuck this shit.
She wanted to be seen, she wanted to be heard.
Karen let her dress fell on the bed and her whole skin bristled – her nipples hardening, when she opened the window with both hands and the cold wind came in through and shook her nude body.
Frank was finally seeing her, all pale skin exposed, she was making sure of it. His jaw tensed, but he didn't look away.
"Fuck you, Frank. Fuck you. You're not allowed to do this, you hear me? You're not allowed to come into my life without permission whenever you want and make me feel that I'm actually part of something here if I'm not. You're not allowed if you're not gonna fucking stay."
Despite being quite close, Karen could barely see his face among the dark – she couldn't measure Frank's reaction aside of the tension of his lower jaw bone and the muscles of his neck, and that was what she hated the most of all that stupid situation. She felt extremely cold and exhausted- all the air from her lungs burst out once she had stopped yelling at Frank's shadow. Her voice broke.
"If you excuse me, I'm gonna take my shower now. Do whatever the hell you want."
Frank didn't say any fucking word when she turned around and walked off her bedroom and that only increased her anger. She didn't bother to close the window.
Karen did actually masturbate in the shower, fast and quiet- out of pure frustration. She didn't think of anything- no forbidden names escaping from her lips, no stupid fantasies assaulting her mind, just the needing to shake all the rigidity of her body off. Then she cried.
When she came out of the bathroom after a long shower, Drunk-Karen was almost gone- a slightly headache breaking through. The smell of fresh coffee paralyzed her in her way to her kitchen.
Shit.
Frank was still there.
Of course he was.
Frank Castle never ran away from a fight and she should have known better.
Her nose caught another smell as she slowly walked in- picking up her heels and her bag from the floor where she had thrown them, as she stepped closer. Frank was indeed in her kitchen. He was cooking something that smelled really good and he had his back to her.
"Hey."
When he turned around to look at her, Karen crossed her arms around her chest by instinct- bag and shoes shielding her. She was fully clothed –big pink sweater and some black leggings on, but she was feeling more naked than ever. Frank's eyes moved along her chest and she blushed.
"Nice shoes." Karen muttered a quiet "thanks" as Frank handed her a cup of coffee. "Here."
Feeling like an idiot with her hands full, she turned around herself foolishly a couple of times until she decided to leave the shoes and the bag on a chair. Then she sat down in front of the table with her cup of coffee. Frank was serving a pair of French toasts in two plates with some butter and syrup.
"Your pantry is a goddamn mess. You should try to eat as a normal person for a chance."
Frank was talking to her absently while he was cleaning some dishes. Karen tried a bite of her extremely early breakfast and then another. It tasted really good but her pride was stronger that her hunger.
"I'm not gonna apologize just because you made some nice breakfast, Frank."
He glanced at her, pausing her cleaning for a moment.
"What are you talking about? I'm the one apologizing here."
He turned his back to her, focusing on the dishes again.
"What the hell were you doing out there in the middle of the night, Frank?"
"You call me."
Karen almost chocked with a piece of the sweet bread. Her fork slipped from her fingers.
"I- What? When?"
"Two lost calls a couple of hours ago."
Shit. She didn't remember that at all.
Frank hadn't turned around yet and Karen was glad he couldn't catch her panic face.
"Did I- left you a message?"
"You didn't, and you didn't answer back." Frank looked back at her then and Karen's eyes dropped. Since she had followed whatever was his name to the back door of the club, she hadn't checked her phone and it was still inside her bag. "You scare the hell out of me and that's why I came here. The fire escape was the cleanest way to enter but I did not. I've just arrived when I saw you."
And he did indeed saw her. Hell if she hadn't let him see her. Karen felt herself bushing again.
"I didn't- I- Jesus." She breathed deeply as Frank took a chair to sit next to her. "It's New Year's Eve, Frank. People get drank and do stupid things like making stupid calls at three in the morning. You could have thought that it was just that."
"Not with people like us."
He was right. You stopped doing those kinds of overtime calls when you had experienced more than one life or death situation with the person you were calling. It was a silly argument but it was the actual truth, even if she didn't remember it.
"I'm sorry I scared you but you need to stop climbing up my window or whatever every time you think I'm in trouble. I can handle myself, Frank."
Karen knew she wasn't being entirely fair and the truth was that if he hadn't showed up all those times before, she may be dead. But it had been a shitty night and she was too tired.
"I know that. I know that, Karen. But-"
"I don't need a savior, Frank. I just want you in my life. I want you to be present."
Frank looked at her in what she was sure it was his panic face. She touched his arm and she felt it again - his muscles stiffing at the contact.
"K-Karen, every time you are close to me, you get yourself in trouble."
Karen snorted.
"Get over yourself, Frank. I've been getting myself in trouble since I was nineteen."
Frank burst a short laugh – the tension of his body relaxing a little.
"No surprise there, ma'am."
That. The reason she needed him. The fact that he wasn't surprised when the rest of the world - aside from Elison- would have rejected that affirmation. The fact that he could see so easily through her mask.
"You are staying."
Karen squeezed his arm and Frank's expression softened.
"I'm staying."
