Chapter Text
Frank tried not to make a habit of sitting out in the open. After Micro found him from his gait, he was careful to switch it up. Different sweaters, hats, hairstyles. He wasn’t looking to be found so easily again. However on fall mornings, as the fog starts to clear and the weather gets colder, he liked to sit at parks. He’d just sit there and watch. Watch the yoga moms speed walk with their Starbucks, watch the kids playing near a pond, watch a couple walking hand in hand. He’d sip on coffee out of a thermos, just watching people go about their lives.
When he heard the quick patter of feet and panting of breath, he'd expected to see a jogger. Some yuppie kid getting in their workout before class. When he turned his head however, he saw a dog. Confused, he leaned forward. Elbows on his knees, he let out a quick whistle just long enough to catch the dog's attention. The dog, a blue pit bull, cocked his head before trotting up to Frank. Tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted, little clouds of air emanating in the cool morning breeze.
“What are you doing here by yourself huh?” He asked the dog, a puppy really. A little too trusting in his opinion. Scratching gently behind his ears, Frank looked for a dog tag. Fingers trailing along the dog's collar. There was none, no indicator to an owner.
What moron had a dog without tags in New York?
He wondered if the dog was chipped, if he wanted to even bother with finding out. If the owner couldn’t handle him, maybe Frank could take him in, like Max. Just as he grabbed the leash, the dog having taken a seat at his feet, he heard it.
“Frank!” A voice called out, whipping his head in the direction the dog had come from, he saw you. Wrapped snugly in a jacket, sneakers pounding against the path. You didn't look like a threat, didn't look like anyone who he would know or knew him.
As you got closer he straightened up, the hand he didn't have on the leash slipping into his pocket. Can never be too careful. As you stood a few feet away, hunched over and panting, Frank was going to ask who you were, what you wanted, but you beat him to it.
“Why’d you make me chase you Frank, the moment I lose grip you just run off?” You wheezed out. You exhaled sharply as you stood straight, beckoning the dog toward you.
“This is your dog?” He asked, voice coming out rough. Unused to speaking so early. His eyes flickered down to the dog, who was wagging his tail.
“Yea, yea, Frank's mine.” You said as you stumbled closer, stopping right in front of him. He handed you the leash, before leaning back on the bench. Taking you in.
“You named your dog Frank?” He never really understood giving a dog, or a pet in general, a human name. Aren’t most dogs named princess? Oreo? Rex?
“Oh, no, I didn't name him. I’m actually fostering him, the shelter named him Frank.” You explained, your breath now steady. Frank, the dog, was walking around you, looking at Frank, the human.
“Odd name for a dog.” He muttered, shifting in his seat.
“What, do you not like the name Frank?” You asked, lips parted as you scrutinized him. You bent down slightly, petting the top of the dog's head.
“It's alright I guess.” He smiled to himself. You squinted, still watching him.
“Alright, well what's your name then?” A segue. He thought about lying, telling you his name was Pete and continuing on with his day. Where was the fun in that?
“Frank.”
“Ha ha, I'm serious.” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping from your voice. You were staring down at him, eyes real pretty.
“Ok,” he nodded, eyes darting from your face to the dog and back, “Francis.”
Your expression dropped for a second, eyebrows drawing together. Your mouth opened as though to speak. Suddenly your eyes widened and you huffed, smile creeping onto your face. Your cheeks suddenly reddened.
“Your name’s really Frank?” you asked, shifting on your feet, sharp eyes watching him.
“What I've been trying to tell you.” He answered, grabbing his thermos. He felt fidgety, like he needed to be doing something with your eyes on him. You hummed as he uncapped it, pouring some of his coffee into the cup.
“Well Frank,” chuckling to yourself, embarrassed, “could I take you to lunch as a thank you for catching other Frank?”
You nodded towards the dog, biting your lip. He hesitated, eyes flashing down. He mumbled something, barely noticeable if you hadn't been watching so intently.
“If it’s not too forward, I just, want to thank you.” You rushed out, not wanting to make things awkward. You didn’t know him, barely knew his name but something about him just drew you in.
Maybe it was the mystery of him, the guy sitting in the park with his hood up, baseball cap on. Maybe it was the faint wisps of hair you could make out from under the cap, dark and curled. Maybe it was his split lip, the fact he had a thermos instead of a disposable coffee cup. Maybe it was how Frank, the dog, instantly warmed up to him when it took days for him to let you in. You wanted to get to know him.
“Yea, yea sounds good.” He nodded, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Your eyes followed the movement, getting lost there for a moment.
“Ok, cool um, I know a dog friendly diner a few blocks away. Would that be ok?” You asked, shifting Frank's leash from one hand to the other as you pulled out your phone.
“Yea, yea whatever’s fine,” He responded, putting the cup back on the thermos. He stood up, tucking the thermos under his arm. “Lead the way.”
He watched you put your phone back in your pocket, giving a soft tug on the leash. Frank, the dog, got up, leading the way out of the park. Frank, the human, shook out his leg, putting some distance between the two of you.
“So, do you live around here?” You asked, curious about him. He looked like a New Yorker, his voice rough and raspy though not having any real accent to it.
“Kinda, move around a lot for work.” He answered, ducking his head slightly.
The longest job he’d been on in a while was 3 weeks. He usually resolved the issue quickly, sticking to dirt cheap hotels. He kept a cheap apartment in New York, a couple blocks in the other direction as a home base of sorts. He found himself coming back to New York after missions, visiting Maria and the Kids. Check on Karen and avoid Madani whenever she was in town.
“Oh, what do you do?” You asked, peeking under his cap. You caught his eye, causing him to straighten back out.
“Construction, mainly demolitions. What about you?”
“A little bit of everything. Kinda have to in this city.”
“Oh yea? Like what?” He asked with an easy smile on his face. Everyone in New York had to hustle now.
“I work at a diner, the diner I’m taking you to.” You laughed, looking sheepishly up at him. He gave you a charming smile in return.
“I also babysit, house sit, pet sit. I have a house I inherited, out in the suburbs. I rent it out to low income families, so I also manage all upkeep for it.”
“What kinda house is it?”
“It’s three stories, and under some advice I broke it up into 3 units. It’s uh, it belonged to a family friend. I spent a lot of time with her.” You explained, looking down at your shoes.
“She passed away when I was teen and she didn’t have kids so, I got the house- oh uh, sorry that's a lot.” You blushed, bringing your hand up to scratch your cheek. It was cute, a nervous gesture.
“Nah nah, it’s cool. I asked.” Frank reassured, watching your movements.
“Um, have you always done construction or?”
“I uh, I used to be in the marines.” Frank replied without thinking. Mentally hitting his head. He was giving you too much information, he was surprised you hadn’t recognized him by now.
“Oh! Well thank you for your service.” You did a mock salute, bumping slightly into his shoulder. He couldn’t help the laugh bubbling up, turning his head away. It almost made him uneasy, how you slipped under his defenses so quickly. How simple, easy it was to fall in step with you. To listen to you laugh, smile.
“Oh, we’re here.” You said, pointing at the diner. It was quaint, reminded him of the place he took Karen after he escaped. When he had used her as bait. He stepped in, holding the door open for you.
“Thanks.” Always smiling, you stepped into the diner. Frank, the dog, happily trotting in.
He watched as you hugged the hostess, some conversation about work. He scanned the room, pretty empty for the hour. An older couple having a late breakfast, a girl typing on her laptop. No threats. He could feel eyes on him, when he looked back over to you, he saw your coworker staring. She whispered something with a wink, to which you scoffed and lightly slapped her shoulder.
“Where are my manners,” the hostess, Juliet, going by her name tag, purred, “Welcome in, party of two?”
“Cut the shit.” You laughed, clearly the two of you were close.
“Back booth? I see you brought Frankie.” Juliet said, voice rising as she said the name. She crouched down to pet him, getting his tail wagging.
“Yea, come on.” You said to Frank, then started walking toward the back corner of the diner. Frank followed, ducking his head slightly. It was more secluded from the other patrons, out of the way. You sat on the side facing the wall, letting him take the corner. Good vantage point, let him see the entrance. Juliet followed shortly after, bringing menus.
“Can I start you guys off with something to drink?” She asked, pen and notepad ready.
“Coffee.” Frank said, clearing his throat.
“One coffee…” Juliet repeated as she wrote it, her eyes briefly flashing to meet his. “and a coke?”
Clearly familiar, you nodded.
“Alrighty, I’ll be right back with a coffee and a coke.” She smiled, sending a pointed look at you. You just laughed it off, your eyes casted down as you watched Frank, the dog, get settled at your feet.
“Juliet’s friendly.” Frank, the human, said. Carefully watching your expression, your smile widened.
“Yea, only when she wants to be.” You rolled your eyes playfully.
“You like working here?” Frank asked, slipping off his hood but keeping the cap on.
“It’s close by, good money, good tips. Not my dream job but ya know. Take what you can get.” You explained, picking at the menu. Laminate peeling on the corners.
“That and all your side hustles huh?” He picked up the menu, glancing over it. He wasn't really hungry but figured a burger couldn't hurt. You didn't even glance at it, just watched the dog as you picked the corners.
Juliet came back, setting a mug on the table as well as a glass coke bottle.
“Y’all know what you want to eat? We serve breakfast all day.” Juliet explained, clicking her pen.
“Burger with a side of fries, and a plain patty.”
“Burger for you, and a patty for Frankie, what about you hun?” Juliet asked, lifting her head up from her notepad. She was sweet looking, bright blue eyes and flashy white teeth. Probably a wannabe actress. Frank could see her playing a victim on Law and Order.
“Burger with fries please, ma’am.”
“Alrighty, also my shift is almost over but I’ll bring out your food and let you know who’s taking over.” Juliet explained, gaze lingering on Frank just a second longer than friendly. When she walked away, you spoke up.
“Sorry, she's a bit of a flirt.”
“Really? I hadn't noticed.” He smiled behind his mug, taking a sip of the coffee. It was bitter on his tongue, hot as it slid down his throat. Just how he liked it.
“Right, totally didn't notice her stares and batting lashes.” You played along, sipping your drink. You watched Frank, noting the way he held the mug. The bruises on his knuckles, overlapping scar tissue.
“She was staring?” Frank asked in mock surprise, raising his eyebrows. You shot him an unbelieving look, before breaking out into a laugh. Watching you smile, laugh at the things he said, it made him feel dizzy.
Juliet brought out your food, still lingering.
“Burger with an extra patty,” she said, placing your plate down, “and a burger and fries for you. Can I get you anything else? Refill?”
You looked over at him expectantly.
“No, thank you.” He affirmed.
“Alrighty, well I’m off the clock, your new server will be Ana.” She smiled, now Frank thought her teeth were too white. Real fake looking. Definitely a victim on SVU.
“Bye Juliet, see ya tomorrow.” You waved her off, giving her a sincere smile.
Frank immediately dug in, taking a big bite out of his burger. Ok, so maybe he’d been hungrier than he’d thought.
“So you foster?” He asked in between bites, careful not to talk while chewing. Maria had hated that, when he’d scarf down food the first few days of being home. She’d never say it, not wanting to cause a fight so early into him being home, but she'd get a certain look on her face. Fake little smile that wouldn’t reach her eyes.
“Mm, yea.” You said, swallowing, “mainly cats since I’m in an apartment, but occasionally dogs when there’s overflow at the shelter.”
“You like it? Taking care of strays?” It felt like an inside joke as he said it. He had a tendency to pick up strays as well, Karen, Micro, Amy, Madani.
“Yea, I mean, they deserve to be taken care of. I can’t have a full time pet, so fostering is really the only option.” You explained, good answer.
“Why can’t you have a pet?” He asked, confused. Don’t most people who foster have at least one animal of their own?
“I’d feel bad,” you explained as you broke the patty into small bits. Occasionally holding a piece out for Frank, the dog.
“I had a dog growing up. He was my best friend. When he died, it hit hard. I don’t think having a pet, like my own pet, would be good for my mental health. So I look after other’s pets, and take care of animals waiting for that forever home.”
“That’s real nice of you.” He complimented, wiping his hands off on a napkin.
“Have you ever had a dog? Or a pet in general?” You asked, looking over at him.
“Yea, had a dog growing up and then uh…” he thought about the dog he had saved, from the Irish. He never did see him again, wondered briefly if he had been ok. If Red had taken him to a shelter or something.
“I took care of a dog recently. Pitbull, just like Frank. His name was Max.”
“Really? That’s cool, have you ever thought about fostering?” You asked, eyes lighting up.
“No, I move too much. Don’t have time for a pet.” Frank almost felt bad about his answer, worried about disappointing you.
“Oh right, that makes sense.” You’d fed the last bit of the patty to Frank, the dog, wiping your hands off with a napkin. Frank hadn’t noticed but you’d only eaten half your burger. He’d already finished his. Now snacking on fries.
He looked out the window as you ate, eye flitting to the door when a bell rang. Someone just came in, no reason to get all worked up, he thought.
“Are you in New York often?” You asked, wiping your mouth.
”Yea, I’m from Queens. Always find my way back to the city, no matter where I go.” He replied, taking another sip of coffee. He’d heard somewhere that coffee was a palette cleanser. Like going to look for perfume, smell coffee grounds in between so your judgement wasn’t biased. Maybe Maria had told him that. She liked floral perfumes, liked to smell fresh.
“Home is where the heart is right?” You cheered, lifting your coke bottle up. You didn’t know how right you were.
“Something like that.” Frank agreed, lifting his mug to click against the bottle.
“I actually-“ you were cut off by your phone ringing. Pulling it out of your pocket, you checked the name.
“Oh it’s my neighbor,” you explained, “do you mind if I answer?”
Frank shook his head, once again sipping his coffee. He would need a refill soon. You flashed him a small smile before turning to face the window, picking up with a hushed tone.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Frank watched as your expression shifted. Eyebrows set in a scowl, eyes looking at any and everything out the window.
“Yea I can- oh no it’s fine, yea it’s fine. I’ll be there in” you quickly glanced at your phone screen, “yea like 15 minutes. No, no it’s fine really. Yea see you soon.”
You hung up with a sigh, apology ready to go.
“That bad?” Frank asked.
“Yea, work emergency. She has young kids and needs a babysitter.”
You scrambled, checking your pockets for your wallet. When you took it out Frank held up his hand.
“I got it.” He said, leaning back against the seat. It was plusher than he thought, plastic not creaking with the movement.
“But I invited you, and I’m essentially ditching you.” You pleaded. Opening your wallet.
“Shit happens, go help your friend. I’ll pay.” He stuck a hand over your wallet, stopping your movement.
“Frank…” You trailed off, looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Go ahead.” He nodded to the door. You turned your head, looking for the waitress. Then back to him, you held out your hand.
“Give me your phone.”
“What?” Taken aback, Frank froze.
“Your phone, I’ll give you my number and we can plan for dinner or something. I won’t bail next time, promise.” You explained, hand still waiting. He dug into his pocket and grabbed his phone as you put your wallet away.
“Alright.” Frank said, placing his phone into your hand with a gentle slap.
“A flip phone?” Incredulous, a look of mild shock on your face as you flipped it open, typing away.
“Get’s the job done.” He grunted, a bit embarrassed. They were cheap to replace, easy to toss. They weren’t as fragile as newer phones, what with their touchscreens and thin casings.
“That’s fair, here… I texted myself so I have your number.” You set his phone on the table, straightening out your jacket. You clicked your tongue. Frank, the dog, standing up at your feet.
“Thank you again.” You said, with an apologetic smile.
“Hey, let me know when you get there.” Frank said, grabbing the phone off the table and putting it into his coat pocket.
“Yea, yea I’ll text you.” You smiled, adjusting your grip on the leash.
“I’m more likely to pick up a call than respond to a text.” Frank explained, a half truth. He was more likely to respond to a call, but he generally had no preference. He wouldn’t admit that he just wanted to hear your voice. Didn’t want you to go so soon. It was an indulgent request.
“Ok. Then… I’ll call you. See ya Frank.” You gave him a small wave, tugging on the leash slightly as you turned away.
You quickly made your way out of the diner, Frank watched through the window as you passed. Frank, the dog, was once again leading the way. Frank, the human, figured he had nothing better to do, he’d just sit at the diner til you called. Not wanting to miss it by being out and about or setting his phone down once he got home and forgetting about it.
“More coffee?” The waitress, Frank had already forgotten her name, asked.
“Yea, thanks.” He said, holding his mug out for her. At least the coffee was good.