Chapter Text
[BEFORE]
[I swear I wrote this before Jon decided to adopt another pup (and name him after my own dog, for crying out loud), so this worked really well. Just picture a baby Max, and you’re set.]
She’s tired. She wants some cake and she wants a milkshake and she wants to watch Pride and Prejudice until she falls asleep. Maybe Magic Mike. XXL.
Karen climbs the stairs after work on a Friday thinking that, really, she ought to call that guy and accept dinner. But, after Frank mentioned it, he did have a little bit of a creepy vibe.
Not that she’s gonna tell him that, of course.
Well. Maybe that’s her, now. Staying home Friday nights. Maybe she used up all her fun Friday nights with her stupid ex boyfriend, who she fucking missed, even if he is a messy asshole. But shit, he was a charming asshole.
With a sigh, Karen turns the key on her lock, expecting Max to come greet her. Frank was probably out with some woman.
There’s no greeting. Karen sets her purse on the couch and walks towards the bathroom, where she hears Frank’s voice.
When she opens the door, she wants to scream and cry and go off on Frank.
He’s bathing the dog. In her bathtub.
The floor is a mess, wet and littered with stuff, from Frank’s shirt to a box of dog shampoo to an empty packet of Oreos. The tub she hates and never bathed in anyway is half full and Frank is sitting on the edge, one leg in, one leg out, wrestling a foamed up Max. Both stop and look at her with guilty faces.
“Hi”, Frank says.
After a moment, Max tries to jump over the edge of the tub towards her, but Frank stops him.
Taking a breath, Karen looks for something that can’t be fixed. She finds nothing, so she just eyes Frank.
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”
Looking at Max, she has half a mind to ask why in the world he’s not at the petshop having his weekly bath, but she finds out she doesn’t really care. As long as he cleans it up.
Careful not to step on the wet tile, Karen moves to close the door.
“There’s Oreos on the counter for you!” Frank offers. “Double Stuff!”
She closes the door and moves towards the exit, stopping by her bedroom to pick up a pair of pajamas, getting the Oreos, walking out, unlocking Frank’s door and walking to his pristine bathroom.
After taking a quick shower, she gets into her PJ’s, orders them two burgers and shakes and settles on the couch, logging into Netflix and queueing up the movie.
When Frank and Max walk in, the dog is bathed and Frank is also clean and she’s about to dig into her burger.
He places the puppy on her lap, gets his own burger and moves to sit by her, picking up her feet, wrapped in socks and blankets, and putting them on his lap.
“How’s my bathroom?” She asks.
“Spotless. You could eat off that floor.”
She lifts her arms to stop Max from getting a bite and frowns while Lizzie Bennet walks all the way to Pemberley to see Jane.
“Did you use my shampoo on him?” she asks, moving to sniff the freshly bathed tiny pitbul on her lap. He licks her face.
“No”, he says all too casually, unwrapping his double cheese bacon and manspreading on the couch, and Karen forces him to close his legs by pushing his left with both her feet. Max slides from her knees to her lap when she does. “He knocked the bottle over and it spilled a bit.”
Deciding that if the bottle is halfway empty, she’s gonna send him to buy another one for her, Karen settles to watch and eat, slipping a tiny piece of bread to Max, to maybe make him settle down.
And then they eat and watch the movie quietly.
.:.
[BEFORE. FRANK’S BIRTHDAY]
He watched closely as Karen danced with Trish, both laughing and twirling around.
She waved at him to join them, but he shook his head, he was fine just sitting there, nursing his drink.
“Sir”, came Scott Bagley’s voice by his side. He, like every other man at the table, had been watching Karen and Trish dance together. “Would it be ok with you if I-”
“Shut the fuck up right now”, he said, not even looking at the young man.
“Ok. Right.” He hesitated. “What about Tri-”
“I mean it, Scott. Shut up.”
“Yes, of course, sorry sir.”
.:.
[ONE WEEK AFTER]
She was lying on her stomach, he was lying on his back. His breathing is under control again when she moves to support her head on her hand, elbow on the pillow.
“How did you know I liked that?” she asked.
“Liked what?”
“You know. With… the hand and everything.”
He turned to her and reached to pull the blanket off her, not yet fully used to the sight of her naked body.
“Maybe I’m just that good?”
“Well”, she leans in, kissing him slowly and sensually. “No matter how good you are, that was really specific. How did you know I like it?”
Frank sighed and caught her hand in his, both resting on top of his chest.
“Murdock told me.”
Her expression was, predictably, as if she had been shocked.
“Matt told you about that?!”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my God!” she sat up and pulled on the covers to her chest, hair falling around her shoulders and fuck, she looked good. “How did that even come up?”
“It’s a nice story, actually”, he said, moving to sit up against a few of the one million pillows she keeps on her bed. “We were at the gym one night, and he took his shirt off, right? Because he was bleeding and sweating. And, as it turns out, there was a bite mark on his shoulder.”
Karen’s eyes went unfocused for a second, while she looked at a spot on the wall behind him.
“Oh…”. Apparently, she remembered.
“Yeah”, he went on. “I asked him about it, and he stood there, all smug. ‘Karen bit me’”, he mimicked, making her chuckle. “Apparently he had tried this little thing with you the night before and you liked it so much you sank your teeth on him.”
She let out what he had learned, a long time ago, to recognize as nervous laughter, and hid her face in her hands.
“Honestly”, he went on. “I’m kinda offended you didn’t bite me.”
“Oh, Frank, come on.”
“No, I’m serious. What is it that Altar Boy did that made you go so crazy that you tried to rip a chunk of him off with your teeth?”
“Altar Boy?” she smiled while he moved forward to reach her.
“You know, all that catholic thing he got going on.” He got close and touched his nose to her cheek, running his lips against her face lightly. “Don’t change the subject. Was he that good?”
“If you must know, yes. He was very, very good at sex.”
Playfully, he tackled her to the bed and she goes down laughing, that blond hair of hers all over cream sheets.
“That second ‘very’ was really not necessary”, he whispered in her ear, taking the covers away from between them.
“Did you guys talk about this a lot?” she asked when he settled on top of her again.
“Not really.”
“But he told you about the hand thing?”
“Yeah, he told me about the hand thing. And lemme tell you this.” He reached between them and she sucks in a startled breath, gripping his arms, nails piercing, eyes closed. “I’m gonna get a reaction like that, even if it kills me.”
She laughs, but it’s weak, because he’s working his hand and it gets her arching her back and he’s watching her, measuring and cataloguing.
He doesn’t get his bite mark (yet), but he does go to work the next day with a very red, kinda sore set of half-moon shaped nail marks on his side, that stung when he showered.
.:.
He did get his bite mark, but not before four more months.
Frank had just touched down in New York again, after six days in the deep of the country, leading the recovery of a massive Shield weapons warehouse, when his phone rang.
“You back, yet?” she asked, and he heard an echo of sorts.
“Just landed.”
“Did you bring me my coffee?”
“When have I ever forgotten?”
“That is true. So, guess what.”
“What?”
“I’m at the new place.”
He felt that sense of happiness and downright giddiness start inside his chest.
“You finally got the key?”
“I finally got the key. And, best of all.” Karen dropped her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “They delivered the new bed.”
The king size bed he took forever to buy, because he couldn’t decide among so many options. The king size bed he wanted to be perfect, because he wanted her to never regret sharing a bed with him, ever. The king size bed that was the first thing they had bought together, as a couple.
Their bed.
“How does it look?”
“They’re putting it together now, it looks good. But I’m starting to think that maybe this place is too big, Frank.”
“That’s because you’re used to living in that tuna can we called home for almost ten years.”
“Maybe. So, are you on your way over?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Almost half an hour later, he walked up the steps to the brownstone feeling good. Better than he felt in a long time, actually. Walking to his new door - their new door - and climbing the stairs with a spring on his step, he met her at the foyer.
The smile she had on was incredible. Excited and happy and open, simple. It did falter a little when she took a good look at him, and he raised his brows, only then remembering her confession, two weeks ago, that she really, really liked to see him in his black uniform.
“Ma’am”, he said, studying her expression. Her eyes were still running over his body and he couldn’t help the proud and smug feeling inside him, but then she looked back at his face.
“Welcome home, Agent Castle.”
He took that big step to her and she raised her face to his, closing the door behind them. Rubbing Max’s ear when he came to greet him, he let her pull him by the hand and they walked to their new bedroom. He looked at the bed, with no blankets or pillows or covers yet, the big plush white headboard against the dark grey wall, by the big window that waited for the curtains she wanted for it.
“What do you think?” she asked when he stood behind her and hugged her to him, arm around her waist.
After a moment, he turned her around and moved to walk them to the second bedroom that would become the office, where the window already sported a curtain (a horrible one that they would get rid of).
“I think you should take your dress off, Miss Page”, he said.
“What if someone walks in, Agent Castle?”
“Nobody will walk in. This is a secure perimeter.”
Because she liked it when he talked tactical.
“Is it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Dress off, please.”
She moved to lower the zipper on her side and he closed his fingers around the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling just the right amount.
She was pressed between the wall and his body when he felt it, right on the base of his neck, teeth sinking in, a desperate effort to not moan out loud (because he had told her to keep quiet, the empty apartment would carry her sounds easily), her whole body shuddering, her hands tight on his short hair and his arm.
“I think you’re part vampire”, he teased, minutes later, looking at the print of her teeth on his reflection in the guest bathroom mirror while they put themselves back together.
.:.
[BEFORE]
“How is everything, honey?” her mother asks on the phone.
“Oh, you know. Same old, same old”, she replies, lying on her couch, three candles lit on her coffee table to compensate for the lack of electricity that plunged the entire neighborhood to darkness.
“And what about work?” her mother asks on the line.
“Well. It’s actually not that bad. But I don’t think I’m gonna get that raise.”
“Why not?”
Frank walks in, dropping his wallet and keys on the kitchen counter, using the flashlight on his phone to look inside her fridge, looking for dinner, probably.
“Well, they’re actually making cuts, so I’m lucky I’m not getting fired at all.”
“Who is it?” Frank asks, walking to the couch, the container with last night’s take out in his hands.
“My mother”, she replies.
“Who is that?” her mom asks, suddenly excited, and she could kick herself. “Is that Frank?”
“Let me talk to her”, the asshole asks, because he likes the way her mom fawns over him as if he’s a prince.
“No”, she tells him, trying to move the phone out of his reach, but he’s too quick.
“Hey Mrs. Page”, he says, his voice dropping to a low tone and Karen rolls her eyes, taking the food from him.
They talk for maybe five minutes and then he gives the phone back to her, sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table.
Her mother is laughing when she puts the phone back to her ear.
“Hey mom.”
“Oh, honey! He’s just delightful!”
“Yeah, he’s something.”
She is able to steer the conversation away from the topic of Frank and they spend a few more minutes talking about what’s new. Her nephews are two handfuls, and her brother is leaving them with her for a week, so he and his wife can take a vacation to the Caribbean.
She’s hearing gossip about the women on the prayer group when she spots a small piece of paper stuck to the back of Frank’s neck. She scrapes it off with her nail and distracts herself for a while, twirling the short but longer than usual strands of hair around her fingers.
“You need a haircut”, she whispers to him, taking the phone away from her mouth to do so.
After a minute or two, he lies down on the floor and picks her hand up again, placing it back on his head, asking her to keep playing with his hair.
.:.
[BEFORE]
Trish saw right through them.
They could try and fool themselves all they want, but she sees it.
It’s not just because Frank payed exactly zero attention to her. Well, it’s also that. Trish knows she’s a beautiful woman, knows the effect she has on men. Frank Castle? Zilch.
Maybe he’s not into blondes, she thought. Or maybe he’s not into women. Maybe he’s just not interested. Maybe he doesn’t feel like seeing anyone right now. Men who used to be in the army, sometimes it happens. They close themselves off, a quiet life is enough for them.
He fit that profile. Had his dog, his beer, his medals, his new job. Maybe romance was just not something he considered anymore.
She entertained that idea for less than 10 minutes. Until she saw Karen enter his line of sight again.
Yeah, he’s into women. Yeah, he’s into romance and he’s into sex.
He’s into her.
“We’re friends”, Karen had told her. “For years, now, it’s not like that at all.”
And Trish had believed her. For a while.
Thing is, she’s a smart woman. Trish was trying to poach her from the Bulletin to work with her at the station, she has potential. A good, clinical eye that could bring her far. Still, she could not see this, right in front of her.
Her bestie, next door neighbor and co-parent to the sweet pitbull, was in love with her. And she was in love with him.
It was a suspicion at first, but then all those little details, like Frank drilling holes with his eyes through every man that spoke to Karen for more than a minute straight, or Karen reminding him that he needed to change the bandage on his shoulders, taking his beer from him when she thought he had too much already.
And he didn’t complain. Let her do it. Just like that. A man that size, single, no girlfriend, no kids, free as a bird, and Karen did whatever the hell she wanted, bossed him around and he just did as he was told.
Like a good husband would.
And him, the way he moved and acted, as if protecting her from whatever, that was not what friends do.
Frank was always vigilant, even when he was distracted, playing with the dog, she could tell he knew exactly what was going on around them. When he was around Karen, though, there was a sweetness, a lilt to his voice and a little something in his eyes.
She’ll be damned if it isn’t love.
.:.
[BEFORE]
“You’re home early!” He exclaimed, greeting her as soon as she opened the door. “Give me a hug.”
That, right there, gave her pause.
“Why? What did you do?”
It’s not that Frank isn’t a warm guy, but demanding a hug like this is not him, at all.
With a face she just knew meant she was about to be angry, he stared at her.
“Frank. Tell me.”
He sighed and stepped aside, revealing a very satisfied looking Max, with one of her shoes in his mouth, completely destroyed.
“He had already gotten it when I got here. Can’t get him to drop it.”
Clicking her tongue, she took her purse from her shoulder and gave it to him, walking towards the dog.
It was not, thank God, one of the most expensive of favorite shoes. Still. Doesn’t make it right.
“Max”, she said, firmly, supporting one closed fist on her hip, the other one pointing to the spot on the floor right in front of her. “Drop it.”
The pitbull looked at her and whined, as he always did when she gave him an order.
“Max”, she repeated, more firmly. “Right now. Drop it. I am not kidding.”
He must have believed her, because suddenly he bowed his head and advanced slowly towards her, dropping he ruined shoe at her feet.
“Bad boy, very bad boy.”
Usually, when Frank scolded him, he would seek refuge with her. Now, he walked slowly towards Frank, head bowed, and hid behind his legs.
“Do you have to call him that?” He asked, still holding her purse.
“Today I do.”
.:.
[AFTER]
Everybody thinks Frank is this big brooding guy who’s always scowling and doesn’t smile easily.
Which is true, she can’t deny that. She has seen him scare cops with just his look, her own love life has suffered because men are, apparently, unable to no shit themselves when Frank stares at them.
But he also has this sweet, soft side of him. Karen has been privy to it for years now, her position as his front door neighbor, friend and, later, a co-parent to Max, has allowed her to see this part of him. Before Maria, she was the one he came to when he wanted a little affection, be it company for dinner or a hand playing with his hair while he watched TV.
After Maria and after their friendship turned out to be so much more, though, Karen learned just how soft he really was.
It could be the fact that they were new, the discovery that what they felt for each other ran much deeper than they both realized, but hugs were a rule. Lots of hugs, long and lingering.
He took his job as the big spoon quite seriously, but lying down on his stomach with his head on her belly, one arm hugging her like a body pillow was also a favorite.
“Ow, Frank, too tight”, was a sentence she said constantly, when he carried her off the floor in a bear hug every time he came back from one of his travels. Eventually, he learned not to squeeze so hard when greeting her, and she learned that he was not going to break her, just let him do his thing.
.:.
[AFTER]
He never, honestly, thought too much of it. Frank was never one to feel proud when women pranced around wearing his shirts, hoodies, stuff like that. Maria was the only one he actually liked seeing in his clothes, but she only started doing that after she got pregnant, because they were comfortable and “didn’t squeeze” her.
Karen started doing it a year after they first met.
As independent and strong as she is, she grew up with a big brother, one who took to protect her from anything and everything. He was the one thing she missed from home.
So, sometimes, she would wear one of his shirts on her laundry day. Then, on rainy days that she neither wanted nor needed to leave the house, curling up with blankets and socks and a book.
It stopped when she started dating Murdock. For a year, she would prance around with Columbia shirts, boxing gym shirts, dress shirts and hoodies that didn’t belong to Frank.
After Matt and Maria and after Max and after she was Gosnell took her and they became them, she went back to wearing his shirts in cold days, in hot days, in days she was bored, when she went to walk Max and just threw on jeans and went out.
And Frank started liking it. Started appreciating watching her walk around the house in his shirts, started liking smelling her perfume on them when he put them on.
.:.
[AFTER, MOVING DAY]
Frank was sitting on the floor, unpacking stuff he would keep in the office/guest room of the new place, when Karen walked in.
“Ok, I’m gonna ask you this, and I want you to tell me the truth.”
Turning around to look at her, Frank held his breath when he saw the Smith & Wesson on her hand.
“How many guns do you keep in the house?”
Blinking once, Frank stared at her, trying to come up with a nice way to say it.
“Just tell me”, she said after five seconds.
“Seventeen.”
Her eyebrows shot up and she stared back at him, eyes wide.
“Sevente- Why do you need seventeen guns in the house?”
“Protection. Safe keeping. Just in case”, he listed, eyeing the way she was holding it, hand closed around the grip, finger away from the trigger.
“Do you want me to get rid of them?”
She looked at the weapon.
“No”, she said after pondering for a moment. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. But can you tell me where they all are?”
“Sure.”
“Ok.”
He made a mental note of asking her about that strange expression later. Maybe it was shock, but he thought he saw something that looked like interest there.