Bonnie followed Frank into the kitchen, kicking her shoes off sloppily in the corridor. Without the heels she stood much shorter than Frank but her feet felt grateful for the respite. "I'll put the coffee on." She said heading over to the sink, kettle in hand. Frank offered her a warm smile and scratched his beard. "You do make better coffee than me." He stated as she turned on the tap, filling the kettle with water enough for two.

"Is that you or Annalise speaking?" She asked, putting the kettle on boil and folding her arms coolly. Usually the thought of being useful to Annalise made her feel whole but right now, the sentiment irritated her. It was like he was trying to compliment her through Annalise's words. The alcohol was giving a hard edge to her feelings and Bonnie felt despondent. She just wanted to forget all about Annalise; for the rest of the night anyway.

"She won't let me make it for her anymore." Frank admitted, heading over to the fridge but not taking his eyes off his co-worker. "It doesn't really matter." He added with a shrug but Bonnie could see that it did. Even something as trivial as making a cup of coffee could make you feel like a failure with Annalise.

Bonnie bit her lip, unsure of how to comfort him. "She doesn't forget the time you burned it." She said simply, settling for the truth.

"That woman doesn't forget anything." He replied, a soft sigh escaping his lips. The kettle roared as it neared the end of its boil and the two stood in silence, waiting for the bubbling to cease. Bonnie reached for two clean mugs in the cupboard above her and make them both a cup of instant coffee. "I can show you how she likes it. She refuses to drink the instant but I don't think it's too bad."

"Thanks Bon," he said, the suggestion meaning more to him than he wanted to admit. Bonnie understood exactly how he felt. She'd been in his shoes before, for less and for more. Now it felt like they all wore them. Even the K5 were getting a taste. At least the idea that Annalise would need her coffee again was cause for hope. They'd get through this. They had to.

Bonnie took a teaspoon from the countertop, stirring the coffees she had made. She left her own on the counter, picking one up to bring to Frank. "I'll leave it by the cooker," she said, placing it on the counter next to the stove. "Cheers Bon, guess I should really get this show on the road." He took a pan out of the cupboard nearest him and placed it on the top.

"Mmm, what do we have here?" He asked, opening Annalise's fridge and peering inside. The shelves were relatively bare except for a couple of fresh pasta packets, a jar of sauce and box of eggs. Frank groaned, he wanted to cook something and not just heat up some damn processed pasta of all things.

"Annalise don't really keep this place too well stocked now does she?" He joked, opening a cupboard to his left in a search for olive oil.

"Annalise doesn't like to cook much." Bonnie muttered in response, blowing the steam from the top of her mug.

"I always wondered if those two ever used to eat." Frank opted for the eggs, grabbing the carton and pulling out a jug of milk. It wasn't going to be much but at least it should help them wake up in the morning a little fresher than if they went to bed on an empty stomach.

"Sam didn't cook much either."

"What about you?"

"Did I cook for them?" She asked a rosy blush creeping up her pale cheeks. Of course she had cooked for them. She'd waited on them hand and foot when they had let her. The line between associate and maid had been blurred between the three. Those lines blurring into even murkier water when Sam had still been alive. The Keating's had been a complicated couple to work for but Bonnie had felt like she belonged with them.

"I meant do you cook much?" He clarified, cocking a brow at her reaction.

"Oh," she replied softly. "Occasionally. I never seem to have much time for cooking." She quickly attempted to steer the conversation further along. "I know you like to cook. You look comfortable behind the stove." It felt like a lame statement but Frank did look good in the kitchen. He seemed at ease, natural and care free but with the definitive swagger he claimed Delfino men were renowned for. Plus she'd heard plenty from some of the women he'd decided to wine and dine with a little Delfino magic.

"Yeah I like to cook." It was Franks turn to feel the heat rising up his cheeks. He knew exactly what Bonnie had heard about his cooking exploits from some of the previous L1s. Suddenly it felt rather cheap and he found himself wishing she didn't know. That was Frank all over, always messing up the important things in his life. "Could you see if there's any pepper about?" He asked in an attempt to divert attention away from the topic at hand.

"Sure," Bonnie turned from him, searching for pepper in the spice rack that had belonged to Sam. Frank turned up the gas and lit the stove, warming up the pan with a dash of olive oil. He cracked the eggs along the side of the pan and began to scramble them.

Bonnie watched him in silence, passing him the pepper. He thanked her, adding a splash of milk to the pan and a healthy amount of pepper.

Bonnie leant on the counter next to him, rubbing her arm. "It smells good."

"You know me Bon, strive to impress the ladies."

"You want to impress me?"

Frank shrugged, shaking the pan. "Couldn't hurt, could it?"

It was Bonnie's turn to shrug.

Suddenly Bonnie stumbled, crashing into Frank. Her slip had caught him off guard but he stood unphased. Frank held onto the blonde lawyer, steadying her with his own body. "Easy there," he whispered into her hair. She could hear the growl underlying his words.

"I-" Bonnie lingered in his arms for a moment longer than she should have, pushing herself away from him when she began to focus again. "Sorry." She said quickly, backing away from him.

"Don't be." He offered, keeping his tone even and light. Frank wasn't sure if she had misinterpreted his desire for irritation. But oh god he wanted her. Feeling her body so close to his own just amplified him. She was warm, her hair soft and she smelled like coconut. Frank wanted to claim her as his own but the frightened look in her eye suggested otherwise.

He never wanted her to look at him like that again.

"Are you alright?" He asked quickly, dropping the spatula into the pan and raising his palms towards her in a non-threatening gesture.

"I don't know." She mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. She hated this feeling. The one that clutched the bottom of her stomach and pulled it down through the floorboards into the earth. It felt like losing your footing, that terrible sinking feeling that comes with fearing you might fall.

Bonnie felt tears prick at her eyes but she didn't want to cry again. It was so frustrating to have her pain bubble under the surface whenever she got close to somebody. Frank wasn't some guy she could seduce and have sex with. He wasn't someone that didn't mean anything to her and that's what brought the fear out. Everything she had ever loved had been used against her. Bonnie couldn't let that happen again.

"Hey, hey it's ok-or it'll be ok. I mean it's usually always shit with us but it's always ok you know? We still got each other." Frank spoke eventually, bringing her back into the room and out of her own mind. He had a way of doing that for her. His voice grounded her. Even when her fraying emotions were amplified by a little Keating vodka.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore." She admitted, sounding exasperated.

"Bonnie this ain't you talking. You're the strongest woman I know, well with the exception of Cruella Deville up there." Frank smirked, hoping to alleviate the situation somewhat but the woman before him didn't seem convinced. "Bon you see weakness here but I see strength and you know why?"

She shook her head into his chest, keeping her eyes shut.

"'Cause I see you here. I see you now and you're crying, trying to hide it but I can see the tears streaming down your cheeks." He took a slow step towards her, gauging her reaction before taking another. "You see it as weakness but I know damn well you'll be in court tomorrow as if this never happened. You're going to stand up there and face whatever comes. Even if you don't think the verdict will go in your favour. That takes guts Bon. That's the real strength you have. You're resilient as hell. You just gotta see it how it is." Frank closed the gap between them, reaching up to wipe a tear away.
Bonnie flinched at the contact but did not move away, instead she opened her eyes and they stayed perfectly still. Content in one another's gaze.

Suddenly Bonnie wrinkled her nose. "The eggs are burning." She said, turning away from him to wipe her eyes as she silently contemplated his words. She would remember them tomorrow in court and smile. Frank always knew what to say. With him she didn't feel alone.

"Shit!" He hissed, snatching the spatula up and scrapping semi-burnt egg from the bottom of the pan. "Aww fuck." He complained. Bonnie crept up beside him, peering into the pan. "I'm sure they'll be fine." She squeezed his arm, an unspoken reassurance and thank you for his words.