April

It was finally consistently warm outside and Karen was reveling in it. As much as she liked her trench coats and warm scarves and the like, she was a sundress kind of girl. There was something so refreshing about the chill of winter being fully gone, sandals and skirts making it to the forefront of her closet—when she wasn't wearing the work clothes she wore every day of the year at least.

What she wasn't so crazy about were her allergies.

Sneezing for the umpteenth time, having forgotten her medicine in her apartment that morning, she almost made herself dizzy as she approached her door. In the last weeks Frank hadn't mentioned anyone following her and she wasn't working on anything particularly dangerous, which was probably for the best. She could hardly see straight let alone get her pistol out if she managed to notice danger. Ellison had been laughing at her nasally voice and inability to say n or m correctly for the entirety of the day. He was just lucky he hadn't mentioned her red nose or she'd have slugged him.

Blinking against her watering eyes, she swore, "Son of a bitch…"

"Bad day, ma'am?"

Unable to see him in the shadows by near the door to her building, she shrieked in surprise until she recognized the voice. Hand to her chest, she let out a shaky breath that turned into a sneeze. Wiping her nose, she greeted, "Hi Frank."

"Ma'am."

Before she could say another word or take more than a step closer to him, something at his feet began quite forcefully barking. Again clutching her chest, she recoiled even as he harshly shushed the creature at his feet. "Hey, cut it out. Sit down."

The dog she finally noticed at his feet whined but did as asked.

"Yeah, that's right. Be adorable. You need to get in her good graces."

Eyebrow raised, she looked from one to the other. "You have a dog? Since when do you have a dog?"

"The Irish are bad owners. We lost each other for a bit."

That answered neither of her questions but she let it slide. She'd let anything short of killing the pope slide if it meant she could get upstairs and rid herself of mandatory mouth breathing. "You can both come up if you want. I need my medicine." The m sound didn't quite come out right and she caught the grin he shot at her. Opening the door as she glared, she threw back, "Shut up!"

The dog whined again, its tail stilling instantly as he backed up to hide behind Frank's legs. They both looked at it in surprise and after a moment, she knelt down slightly so she was closer to its eyelevel. Dogs weren't a forte of hers, but she thought this one was a pit bull. Given she put up with its owner, she figured she could handle it. Smiling, she cheered up her voice as much as her nose would allow, "Come on. I think I might have some peanut butter for you if you're good."

Its tongue came out immediately and was drooling on her hand when she reached out to pet it.

As always, Frank was gazing at her with the look she couldn't place and had just gotten used to. Sneezing again after rising, she almost blindly felt her way to the door. "Fuck this shit."

Yanking on the still rather broken door, she held it open for the two of them. Technically, animals weren't allowed in the building, but then again neither was the marijuana her neighbors three doors down partook in nightly without incident. The two people they passed on the stairs just looked at her with glazed, uninterested eyes and passed the pit bull and bruised man with cap pulled low without a word.

She almost threw herself recklessly into her apartment in an effort to find her medicine faster, but reigned herself in and carefully cleared the two rooms with her hand on her pistol. She left Frank and his dog in the doorway as she sprinted to the bathroom and threw open her medicine cabinet. Allergy spray was up her nostrils within seconds and by the time she scrunched and blinked the strange feeling away, she was already feeling less congested.

"Oh holy shit, I'm breathing!"

She heard Frank laughing from the kitchen, kneeling down beside his dog and smirking up at her. She got the feeling he found her swearing terribly funny for some reason.

Finally putting down her bag and slipping out of her shoes, she knelt down beside him and took the dog's face in her hands. Smiling widely, her voice went up the octave or two higher it always did when she talked to animals for the first time, "Well, when you're not barking at me, you're kind of adorable aren't you. Where has Frank been hiding you?"

Panting happily, the grey canine stepped forward and started licking her face. "Yeah, you're not so bad are you? I'm not sure foundation tastes very good, but I won't judge you."

Switching her gaze to Frank, she asked, "What's its name?"

"His name is Bully."

"Bully?" She asked with a frown before smiling, "Are you trying to enforce the big, scary pit bull stereotype here? Is he going to be your sidekick or something? Scary dog for a scary man."

He fixed her with the annoyed eyebrow raise before shrugging, "He's a pit bull, ain't he? Bull, Bully. Wasn't a big leap."

She rolled her eyes, "You're such a man, Frank."

"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate you noticing."

Laughing at his flat tone, she reached out and gently smacked his arm, "Shut…" She looked at the dog and changed her mind, "You hush. Who wants peanut butter?"

Though Bully likely had no idea what it was, he yipped happily at the excitement in her voice. Grabbing the jar off the counter and a spoon from the drawer, she soon had the dog inhaling an enormous glob, getting it stuck to the roof of his mouth. She rubbed him behind the ears for a bit longer before looking to the clock on her microwave. It was nearly ten and as usual she hadn't eaten yet.

Looking to the man beside her, she asked, "You want dinner?"

"Can't," he replied, close enough to her that she felt the rumble of his voice. As he pushed himself back to his feet, she caught sight of the shotgun hanging inside his coat. "We had to…change apartments quickly. I don't have anywhere to keep him until I get back from…work."

Even if the somewhat weak code they'd devised wasn't lying since they both understood, he was always still hesitant about not just saying what he actually meant. His reluctance to even lie in such a harmless, not really lying way made it that much easier to trust him. He'd never lied to her. Even if she didn't have a way to prove that fact to one hundred percent, she didn't need to. She knew that he never had.

"I'll watch him," she offered without waiting for him to actually ask, holding her hand out for the leash. It was more just a length of what looked like some sort of military tactical rope, but she supposed it worked.

"Thanks."

Rubbing the dog one more time, she stood also, realizing as soon as she did that she was standing in a small pool of drool but not really caring. "When do you think you'll be done?"

He shrugged. "Couple of hours, maybe closer to tomorrow morning. It's hard to say."

"Okay, here." She handed the leash back to him before walking to the lamp she kept her spare key hidden under. Bully trotted after her, huffing in annoyance when he reached the end of the line before going back to his peanut butter. Pulling the key out, she held it out to Frank. At his confused gaze, she explained, "I'd rather you not have to break into my apartment to get him if I'm passed out. Him not barking my entire floor out of bed would also be good. Just wake me up before you leave. Say goodbye."

As he paused before answering, staring at her like always, she took the moment to study his bruises. His right cheekbone was slightly swollen, a small cut on it like a lefty had snuck in a hit he wasn't expecting. Other than a cut on the bridge of his nose and the yellow remnants of a shiner on his left eye she'd seen in its purple stage the week before, he was unharmed. For Frank, the current state of his face was actually pretty good.

When he still didn't say anything and didn't move to take her key, she shifted her gaze to his hands. His knuckles were bruised and cut up but not yet bloody. His trigger finger was twitching slightly.

Only Bully plopping himself down on top of the man's right boot made him actually move. Looking down at the panting canine, he smiled and rubbed his grey head. "Be good for Karen, alright, bud?"

A lick to the hand was his answer and he finally took the key from Karen's outstretched hand. With a nod and a short, almost awkward wave, he slipped the key into a pocket and stepped toward the door. Before he touched the doorknob, he pulled something else from the inside of his coat. She watched in silence as he placed a small child's book with a cardboard cover and gold binding onto her kitchen counter. A single glance told her its title was "One Batch, Two Batch."

"If you could watch this, too…" He didn't quite look at her, just sort of put her in his peripheral as he stared at the floor at her feet over his shoulder. As soon as she nodded, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

"Stay safe, Frank."

"Yes, ma'am."

She bolted the door after him, realizing after a short moment that she was alone in her apartment with a pit bull of all things. Looking down at the dog who was whining slightly, scratching at the door because Frank had gone through it and not taken him with him, she ushered him further into the room. "He'd better have fed you, honey."

Just to be sure, she grabbed him another glob of peanut butter to occupy himself with as she changed out of her work clothes and slipped into pajamas.

On her way to the kitchen to feed herself, she paused beside the book. Running her thumb along the spine, she gazed at the two bears and their cookies on the cover, pondering the urge to read it. With a sharp inhale that almost succeeded in banishing the tears that had gathered in her eyes, she pulled her hand away. It felt too personal, too private even if she could just go to the nearest bookstore and pick one up for herself. It wasn't a line she was willing to cross without his consent.

A quick dinner of noodles and carrots she shared with Bully followed and she realized with some surprise that she ate better when Frank was there—in some fashion, either in person or dog spirit. Maybe it was because there was no one to look at her with a raised eyebrow when she threw a frozen meal into the microwave or just ate four-day-old takeout when she was alone.

Foregoing the nightly news, she spread her notes from work concerning the string of free, low-income clinics being shoved out of business out across her coffee table. She started on the couch but quickly wound up on the floor, chewing on the end of her pen and rubbing Bully's ears where his head was resting in her lap, drooling onto her pant leg.

She sighed, looking away from the facts that hadn't revealed anything she didn't already know, and glanced down at the dog in her lap. His front right leg was stretched out and she could see the scar carved into his skin above his paw. Once she actually looked for them, she could see plenty of other marks hidden amongst his fur.

Pushing her hair out of her face, ignoring the tears welling in her eyes, she rubbed his belly. "You had a bit of a rough run of it, didn't you, Bully."

Snorting awake, he just grunted happily up at her voice. After a few more minutes of belly rubs, he started snoring again. His ears didn't perk forward when she continued in a whisper, "They say it gets better, you know. But I'm not sure they're right. I think it might just be if something bad happens to you, not if you're the one who did the bad. Mine's not getting better, but I guess you don't understand that. You like me well enough, maybe that means something…"

Leaning down, she pressed an impulsive kiss to the top of his head, waking him. He panted happily up at her from his upside down position, eyes strangely like Frank's in that he'd take in whatever she said and know just to handle it. It was said that people resembled their pets. Big and scary on the outside but a strange, tender, soft sort of mush on certain parts of the inside fit Frank pretty well.

"He's going to ask me tonight, you know. He does every time, asks if tonight's better…" Bully started licking at the hand not rubbing his belly.

Biting her lip, she whispered aloud for the first time, "I killed a man, Bully. He threatened everyone I loved so I shot him seven times. One to the shoulder and six slugs straight to the chest. I was so scared. So scared and angry and I knew exactly what I was doing. I-I killed him. I watched him die. I saw it in his eyes. He's dead. Well, maybe not as dead as he could be. He won't leave me alone."

She let out a deep breath that was right on the cusp of being a sob, "I wasn't wrong. He was going to hurt everyone I cared about, bleed me dry just because he could. He…He smiled at me when I pulled the gun on him. He fucking smiled. He didn't think I could do it. He thought he was invincible, but he wasn't. He wasn't. He was going to kill me one way or another and I stopped him. I stopped him, so why can't I let it go? I'm so tired of carrying it, Bully. I'm so tired. How does he do it? How does Frank not drown in it?"

The sob she'd known was coming broke out of her and when she went to push her hair back, she got dog slobber all through it. Laughing lightly through the tears, she smiled down at the dog who'd rolled awkwardly to his feet and started licking her face. That probably wouldn't be Frank's approach, but it was effective enough.

"He's going to ask, but not tonight, Bully. Once is enough for one night."

When both her deadbolts and the lock in the doorknob slid open, Karen was passed out leaning over the coffee table. Somehow comfortable, Bully was still in her lap, at least until he recognized the figure in the door. She jerked awake as he leapt to his feet and trotted to the door, happily whining.

She groaned at the crick in her neck before pushing herself unsteadily to her feet. Again before saying anything, she took a quick assessment of the blood on Frank's features. He was going to have a second black eye, but that seemed to be all. He'd already wiped off the worst of the sticky, red substance.

Most of it must have been off of his hands, because he took the book from where he'd set it on her counter and put it back into his coat. Finally looking at her, he asked, "He good?"

"Oh, he was perfect. He'll probably have to go out on your way home, though." Arms crossed over her chest, she approached and leaned against the counter, wincing at her neck again. "How about you? Are you good?"

"Yeah. No worries." After tying Bully's leash to his collar again, he fixed her with the gaze she actually did recognize. It was the one that suspected, that basically knew everything but the specifics, and gently told her she could say something. Voice low, he asked, "Tonight better, Karen?"

Actually smiling for the first time when answering that question, she shook her head, "Not tonight. Once is enough."

Folding herself down to her knees in front of the dog, she rubbed his neck until he was licking her face. Pressing another kiss to the top of his head, she said goodbye, "I'll see you later, Bully. You're welcome to eat my peanut butter anytime. Yeah, maybe I'll grab some bacon for you next time."

Wiping her slobbery hands off on her pants, she stood once more and noticed the almost imperceptible smile Frank was sending at her. She returned it. "Good night, Frank."

"Good night, Karen."

She only realized after they'd left and she'd locked her door that she'd forgotten to take her key back. No one else had even been to her home, to the two rooms she called her own and were what she was supposed to consider safe, and she hadn't even remembered to reclaim the only other key to it. Her trust hadn't been misplaced so far.

A/N: Thanks for reading everybody, review if the desire takes you, and I hope you enjoyed. :) See you tomorrow.