She was so nervous. It was way too soon. They were rushing her. She wasn't ready to leave the apartment. She had agreed to let Will, Grace, and Jack take her to the opening of some new bar downtown. They argued that she hadn't moved from the couch in weeks, which was true. She hadn't left the apartment since Will took her to pack her clothes. She was way to emotional, still, to leave. She also hated the way that Will treated her when she was scared. She was still pissed that he suggested she was a coward. To be fair, he did apologize, but she guessed it was his way of motivation. If there was one thing she definitely needed, it was motivation. But she still didn't want to go to a bar. It was hard enough to lie to Grace about why she wasn't going to work, but she had no excuse not to go out for fun. She felt stuck.

They sat at the bar, Jack bouncing up and down on his stool next to her. She ordered a martini and took a deep breath, Will sensing her uneasiness. He placed his hand on hers and raised his eyebrows in question. She gave him a small, oddly insincere smile, before downing her martini.

"Karebear, come dance with me!" Jack pulled on her hand, forcing her off of her stool.

"Poodle, I don't really feel like dancing." Her words were lost in the loudness of the music. He pulled her close to his body and began to dirty dance with her, bumping their pelvises together. She rolled her eyes and finally complied, running her hands over his buttocks half-heartedly. Dancing was something that didn't sound thrilling anymore. She wanted to go home.

After a couple of hours of dancing and drinking tequila shots, Karen was extremely drunk. She usually knew when to stop, but at that point in time, she didn't want to. She wanted to feel good, alive again. It probably also had something to do with the line of cocaine she had done in the back room. Her legs wobbled as she sat on a stool in between Will and another attractive man.

"How are you, Karen? You look a little drunk." Will placed his hand on her back and moved it in a comforting fashion.

"Oh, honey, of course I'm drunk." She laughed bitterly and did another shot before meeting his eyes. "Why aren't you out there meeting Mr. Right-Now?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm worried about how you're doing."

"Will, you can't hover over me like I'm your responsibility. You have a life too, so go live it." He patted her back one last time before standing from his stool. His hesitation caused her to turn around and look his way once again. "I'll let you know if I need you, honey. I promise." He smiled and kissed her cheek before making his way onto the dance floor.

"You have yourself a pretty protective friend there." The man on the opposite side of her spoke in a smooth tone. She turned to face him, taking notice for the first time. His eyes were a deep blue, and his dark hair contrasted perfectly with his skin tone. His innocent look reminded her of Jack, and maybe that's why she didn't turn away from a conversation. She was also extremely drunk. She smiled at him in a flirtatious manner.

"He just worries too much, honey. He thinks that someone might take advantage of me."

"Well, maybe I should keep an eye on you too." She laughed at the fact that he was trying his hardest to start an interesting conversation, or rather trying to get into her pants. Either way, she wasn't in the mindset to care.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm allowed to do who, and what I want. It's my choice." Her words sounded bitter, and she bit her lip to stop herself from being too rude to an apparently sweet man. She turned to fully face him, smiling a little more genuinely to make a silent apology.

"You know, you have a really beautiful smile."

"Thank you, honey."

She had a nice conversation with the man, whose name she never asked. He never asked hers either, and they were soon past the superficialities of a quick meeting at a bar. She knew exactly what he wanted from her, but she wasn't at all ready to give it. She had been living with Will and Grace for two months already, and she was slowly healing. It was especially more difficult to heal since Will made her cut down on the pills she was taking. Still, two months was a decent amount of time to heal.

But what if it was time to move on? Was she just sulking? Not all men were bad; she knew that from her past experiences. She had never been threatened by another man other than the night in her manse. She shook thought from her head as she finished another shot of tequila, her head spinning. She placed her hand on the man's knee, slowly moving it up to his inner thigh. He didn't finish his sentence, and she stood in between his legs. Her face was close to his, and she felt a nervous shiver run down her spine. It felt wrong, but in her drunken state she felt like she had to do it, for some reason or another. She licked her lips and spoke above the sound of the loud music.

"Cut the sweet talk, honey. Are we going to fuck or not?" His eyes widened, but she only bit her bottom lip while awaiting his response. He had never met a woman who was so forward.

"Are you kidding?"

"Are you carrying an STD or anything?"

"No."

"Then I'm not kidding." She took his hand in hers and pulled him from his seat. She led him into the women's bathroom and into a vacant stall, barely large enough for one person. They were lucky that nobody cared about anything in the area of town that they were in because, at the moment, they didn't care either.

She pushed him up against the door of the stall and kissed his lips, dipping her tongue into his mouth. He ran his hands up her backside and cupped her buttocks. She sighed as she felt him beginning to grow hard against her, and she bit his lip. He reached beneath her skirt and pulled her thong down her legs.

She continued to sigh and moan into his mouth as he turned her around and pressed her body into the door. The only problem was; she felt nothing. There were no sparks in her stomach, no butterflies, nothing. However, that didn't stop her from reaching in between them and shoving his pants down his legs. It didn't stop her from grabbing him in her hand, stroking him. She couldn't stop. She was on automatic, overly intoxicated and high, incredibly frustrated with herself.

He lifted her skirt and hoisted her upwards. She felt herself wrap her legs around his waist, and she sighed when he completed their connection. It was when he started moving inside her that his face flashed through her mind; the man who had attacked her. His eyes mockingly looked into hers as the man sucked on her neck and thrust harder. Tears began to fall from her eyes and she shivered in a recollection of fear.

"Stop." Her whisper got caught in her throat, and she knew that he didn't hear her, she didn't hear herself. She didn't do anything to push him away or stall his movements. She was too drunk to think logically and too weak. He ran his hands up the front of her body and pressed her harder into the door. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist as he caught her lips in a deep kiss.

She could tell that he was getting closer to the edge of his orgasm and desperately wished that it would happen faster. She was finished, never once feeling any pleasure, and she wanted him out of her. She faked her own orgasm, not wanting him to think that he was the problem. She shivered, flexed her lower muscles, and sighed loudly in his ear, biting his earlobe and running her hands through his hair. As she had hoped, the sounds of her supposed climax led him to his own pleasure, and he came inside of her.

Their breathing was heavy, and he tried to stay still for a moment. Karen's thoughts were different. She began to squirm, and he pulled out of her, setting her down on her legs. He pulled his own pants up as she bent over to grab her panties from the floor, keeping them in her hand. The floor was dirty, and she didn't want to put them back on. She tried to open the door, but his hand stopped her.

"Are you crying?" She turned to face him and shrugged. He began to panic and reached to touch her face. "I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?" She slapped him away and wiped the lingering tears from her cheeks.

"Look, honey, you don't have to be nice. We both got what we wanted, so let's get out of here." She tried, once again, to open the door, but he still wouldn't let her. "Damn it let me go."

"What if I want to see you again?" Her laugh was bitter and cold.

"No. I have to leave." She patted his cheek and quickly pulled the door open. Her thighs felt slick against each other, for she didn't take the time to clean up before leaving the bathroom. She tightened her grip on her panties, hiding them from the crowd, as she made her way over to where Will was. He was seated alone at the bar as if he were waiting for her to return. She leaned over and whispered into his ear. "Honey, will you leave with me?" The bartender handed her, her purse and she hurriedly shoved her panties into it.

"Oh my gosh, you look terrible." He reached up to fix her smudged lipstick before text messaging Grace, telling her that he and Karen were tired and leaving. He then stood from his stool and put an arm around her shoulders, leading her out into the street.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Will and Karen walked down the sidewalk, his arm around her shoulders. He hadn't asked why she wanted to leave so abruptly, but he could tell that she was embarrassed. She even looked a little scared. They hailed a cab, and once they were inside, she turned to him to tell him what was on her mind.

"Honey, I just screwed some guy in the bathroom. I feel so sick."

"What?" His shock was evident on his face, and it caused her to feel even more ashamed. "You can't possibly be ready for sex yet."

"Stop it with the judgment, Will. I feel bad enough already." She sighed and fidgeted in the seat. "I just needed to get out of there."

"Why did you do it, Kare?"

"Are you a therapist now? I can deal with it myself, honey."

"If you can deal with it yourself then why am I here? Why did you rush me out of there?" She began to sob, giving him a slight idea of what she was feeling. He pulled her onto his lap and held her close, comforting her like he would a child. "I'm sorry, but you need to talk about this with someone, and if it's not going to be me, I'm taking you to a professional."

"Please, just hold me." And he did.