A/N: This one is pretty much just Karen and Packie running their mouths, and you get to know a little bit more of their life in Liberty. I hope you enjoy!
It had been several hours since Franklin dropped them off back home. Both her and Packie were sitting in the living room, talking in light, random conversation. She had made them a snack, grilled cheese, as they watched a variety of shows on television.
"Sounds good, but don't burn mine like how you do yours," he told her with a laugh. "Seriously, Getaway, how do you even eat burnt toast like that?"
"It's good, Packie!" she said with a smile. "Some butter, and it's the best thing ever."
Now, they sat in the living room, snack long gone, and enjoying each other's company after all these years. But Karen saw something in her friend's face. She saw hurt and sadness in his eyes. It pained her that they had lost contact for some time, but in their true friendship fashion, it was like they never stopped. Like they never stopped spending the days together.
When Packie put his glass of soda down on the coffee table with a clunk, she got up from the chaise part of the couch to sit next to him. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he sighed out.
"You know, it's funny, K-girl," he said, staring down at the print on the area rug under where they sat. "How life turned out. I think back to everything that happened in LC, and sometimes I feel like I coulda done better."
Karen placed an arm around his back. "Some things we can't control, Packie."
"But can't we? I mean, could we not have stopped ourselves from pulling the shit we did? Could I have not killed and hurt the people I killed and hurt? And robbed the people that I robbed? Do you even know how much shit you've cleaned up after me? How much shit we ran out on?"
She ran her hand over his back some. "Do you really want to know the fact that I tend to push it out of my mind? I would hate to lie to you, Packie. You've been my best friend for more than twenty years now."
"Kind of crazy that we were literally in the sandbox together. Kind of crazy that we've gone through so much together, yet we can look at each other and know that we got each other's backs."
"Absolutely, Packie," she confirmed, holding out her pinkie to him.
With their thoughts swirling out in the open, neither heard the front door open and shut. A genuine smile came across Packie's face as he hooked his pinkie in with hers.
"Been twenty years and thousands of pinkie promises, too, Karen."
Laying her head on his shoulder, she nodded. "Sure has been. I agree with you, though, because sometimes, I can't believe we got away with some of the shit we did."
Trevor silently watched the scene in front of him. If bones could actually be jealous, he would currently be the brightest display of it.
"She's gone, Karen," Packie said after a moment of quietness.
Karen's brows dropped in confusion. "Who?"
Packie was silent still. She tried to get a look at his face, turning to look at him better. He didn't look up at her, instead focusing on his calloused hands.
"Ma."
She was stunned. The tear from her eye dripped straight down as she embraced him. She wanted to cry for him. She saw how he was holding it in.
"When? What happened, Packie? Why didn't you call or text? I would have been there."
"It's been a few years, not long after you took off for here. And what didn't happen? After losing damn near everyone, there was nothing left in LC holding me there anymore. After Ma died, Kate and Niko took off. Last I even heard from either one of them was that they were hiding out somewhere in the mid-west. Who the fuck knows where they've been since."
"Hiding out? Was Niko in trouble? I remember him from the few times we met. Kate seemed to really like him."
"Yeah, he's not a bad guy. I just kinda hoped she wouldn't be involved with someone else in the life we know. She's too innocent for this shit."
Karen sat there with him for an motionless moment. There were times when she wondered if they could have gotten out early. In their younger years. Packie was just a handful of years older than Karen was. But they both had the chance to not go down this path. This path that led them right here where they were. In LS, still taking scores and doing jobs. Packie, a hired gunman and a hitman. Karen, the getaway and the cleaner.
The silent moments stretched on, but then Packie sucked in a deep breath and cleared his throat.
"So, you wanna tell me something that you've been up to?"
"Me? Same old, same old."
"No, not same old, Karen. You wanna try to pull bullshit over on someone else?"
Karen narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"What do you mean what do I mean? What I mean, is you have a man that put you in this big ass house, and that's not even the kicker. The kicker for me is that you got him calling you 'kitten' as your nickname from him? Tell me, my girl."
"Okay, first of all," she laughed, lowering her head. "He started calling me that on his own."
"Okay," Packie said, waving his hand in a circle. "Second?"
"Second of all," she continued on, poking Packie in his side. "We both picked out this big ass house, thank you very much." She adjusted herself, settling down into the cushions and pillows. "Besides, you know me, Pack. I'm not the 'be spoiled' type of gal."
"No," he said with a short laugh. "I'm shocked you let him do as much as he does for you. I see how he is with you. Anyone would notice. He loves you."
"I know he does."
Packie craned his head to look at her slightly behind his shoulder. "And you?"
Karen sighed, and the sound made Trevor's heart drop to his feet. He watched as she grabbed the Irishman's arm and scooted herself up. Trevor tried to prepare himself for the words that she just might say to a dear, close friend. A friend that she trusted with everything she's ever had.
"You wanted to hear some news? I guess my oldest buddy can hear this bit of news first."
"What are old pals for, K-girl?" he retorted with his hand palm up in front of him. He waited patiently, her lips pursing at her thoughts.
"Okay, so... I've made an appointment the week before me and Trev go down to Vice City to get my birth control removed from my arm."
"No shit, my girl!" Packie said with a smile. "Do I actually get the chance to consider myself an uncle? I mean, sure, you ain't Irish, and I ain't Italian and Puerto Rican, but you're closer to me than my actual sister is."
Karen smiled widely. "We talked about it earlier today. I tried to gauge his reaction when I said it, and he seemed eager."
"So you surprise him with a pregnancy, and boom, maybe he can buy you another house and more cars."
"Oh, fuck off, Packie," she laughed out. "I do not need a single thing more from him. Just a baby."
"I'd rather see you have a baby with someone who actually cares about you over that Luis prick. Man, that guy was an asshole."
"I absolutely never saw myself having kids with him. I promise you that, Packie."
"You know, I figured I'd have a couple of kids by now. I guess some things really don't pan out."
"With who, Packie? You had too many girls back in the day to even narrow it down. A kid with each of them?"
"Hell nah, I just need one decent girl in my life. One good girl."
"We got a couple of girls on the crew. One might catch your attention."
It wasn't until Trevor placed his keys down on the kitchen island that he made himself known. Packie and Karen looked over at him, Karen noticing he had some blood on his shirt. There were also a few wet patches.
"What happened with Haines?" she asked, turning on the sofa so she could look at him.
Trevor grunted. "I think you'd want me to change before I join the party."
"I get the feeling that those are going into the burn barrel out back?" she asked as he skipped towards the short hallway that led to their bedroom.
"Probably," he simply said as he disappeared.
He didn't take long, stripping from the wet, bloodied clothing. He washed his face and his forearms at the bathroom sink before quickly grabbing clean clothes from their closet. He was slipping on a shirt as he headed back out into the living room. Karen was still sitting right next to Packie, and Trevor blinked away from it.
But he wasn't angered by it. Jealous, a little, yes. But what he thought would be anger crashing down didn't happen. What Karen had said about Packie rushed through his mind like a broken dam. She trusted him. And clearly, McReary trusted her. Trusted her enough to confide to her about his mother. That was a touchy subject for Trevor himself. He still wasn't sure when he could finally open up to Karen about it. It's not that he didn't want to talk to her about his mother. He just didn't know if he could be so open about it. Of course he wanted to tell her everything, but some things just took time.
"I'll get a trash bag for the clothes," Karen said, pushing off the couch by her hand on Packie's knee.
Trevor joined Packie on the couch, propping his leg up on the chaise as he watched Karen move into their bedroom quarters with a trash bag in hand.
"Did you guys need help with something?" Packie asked as he picked up his soda for a swig of the dark, syrupy liquid. "My phone might be busted up, but it still works."
Trevor leaned his head back, impressed at the tenacity Packie had.
"You know, you got balls, kid," he told Packie. "Headstrong, jumping right in to help a friend."
"Hell yeah, I do," he said with a nod of his head. "What the fuck else would I offer? Especially with Karen? She's been a little sister to me for eons now."
Trevor put his leg down, feet flat on the carpet as he clasped his hands together and looked at Packie.
"How did you and Karen meet?" he asked, but was interrupted by the woman of topic coming out from the hallway.
"I cleaned off your wallet, Trev," she said, twisting the trash bag closed. "You might want to clean it out better later, though."
"I'll take that, K-girl," Packie said as he stood and reached for the plastic bag. "In the barrel next to the metal patio chairs?"
"Yeah, just toss it in there," she told him as she brushed off her shirt. Handing off the bag to him, Packie made quick work of leaving out the back door.
"That was nice of him," Trevor commented.
"Just the Packie I'm used to," she said with a smile. By the time Packie came back in, gently closing the door behind him, Karen was nestled under Trevor's arm.
"So, how we met was," he continued like nothing had interrupted them. "It was at school. The school we went to goes from kindergarten through twelfth. I don't know who started it or what happened before I walked up, but, I saw Karen get pushed out of a fight. And she's a baby at the time, right, just a young kid, so I'm wondering why this little kid is being pushed and who the fuck's doing it."
"For the record," Karen butted in. "I had nothing to do with the fight. My mom as my witness, I hardly ever got into fights. It was the older girls in the group that started it. Something about hair is all I remember." She shrugged, taking comfort in drawing lazy circles on Trevor's chest.
"Something fucking crazy that broads fight about," Packie said, picking up his soda for a final swig. He swallowed down the carbonation before adding, "Nothing happened to her in that shindig, but how could I let this adorable little kid be pushed like that? She landed right on her ass in the mulch."
Karen let out a laugh. "I remember falling. That shit hurt."
"You start tearing up when me and Kate walked up to help you."
"Landing hurt more than being pushed. You'd cry, too."
"Hey, at this age, I'll take being pushed than falling over."
"How much older are you than my kitten is?" Trevor asked, glad the topic popped up.
"Almost five years," Packie answered him.
"Packie's almost a New Year's baby," she told Trevor.
"Just two days late and a lifetime of dollars short," he said as he stood and walked into the kitchen to place his glass into the sink. "Welp, I hope you two don't mind, but this is probably the most sober I've been in about fifteen years. I'm going to head up to bed before I change my mind about it."
He made his way back over to where Karen and Trevor sat. Swiftly tapping Karen's leg, he then held out his hand to Trevor.
"I appreciate you allowing me into your home, man," Packie said, glad when Trevor accepted his handshake. "I swear, I won't be here too long. I don't want to wear out my welcome."
"Don't say that. You're always welcome here, Packie," Karen told him. "I don't want to hear that from you ever again. You live here."
"Hey, my woman is seriously vouching for you," Trevor said. "If she likes you, then I like you."
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
Turning to Karen, he held out his hand, and Trevor watched for nearly a full minute of them doing a secret handshake. The final slap at the end that Karen landed on Packie's seemed especially hard.
"Damn, K-girl, you still got it."
"Damn right I do."
They watched Packie vanish up the staircase, Karen letting out a deep breath as she patted Trevor's thigh.
"Everything good with the two fuckheads at the FIB?" she asked.
He steadied her hand, taking hold of it. "Just peachy. I don't like how that asshole looks at you, but I know it's nothing you can't handle."
"Me and Franklin were a bit shocked that Haines knows of my dad."
Trevor's brows shot up. "I think most the country knows your dad, Kitten. One of the biggest drug and arms bust ever? Hell, even me and Mikey drew influence from him."
"Yeah, but now? That was twenty years ago."
"It still makes an impact, and impact is most likely exactly what your dad was going for."
Trevor looked at her, feeling his heart skip when she looked up at him. She was beautiful and he was certain he was making the right decision. He just needed a little bit of input, a tiny bit of help, and he'd be all set.
He stood from the insanely comfortable couch, grabbing her hands to pull her close to him. She nearly came up off her feet as she felt Trevor wrap his ironclad arm around her. Neither one of them spoke. Trevor couldn't help but observe her eyes bouncing back and forth between his. He could almost feel her trying to read him. When she reached up to caress the side of his face, he felt himself press into her hand as his eyes closed.
"You're just what I need after today," he murmured.
"Are you okay?"
He opened his eyes and leaned down into her. "I'm okay with you, Kitten."