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petertingle-yipyip · 7 months

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WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

one - deja vu

tags: n/a two // masterlist // MAD AT GOD (DD CANON)

welcome back to the MAG universe! this time around we are rolling through the Punisher series. i’m so excited to develop her friendship with Frank and see what happens between her and Billy!

Pairing: Billy x Reader (casual), Frank x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 5, 728

Summary: Being back in the Kitchen almost immediately pulls her back into a fight. But without Matt, what has she become?

You moved over quickly, using Luke as footing to jump from after he knocked her into a short spin so she faced away from you. You moved in a fluid motion to connect the wires between your wrists as you hooked one leg over her shoulders and jammed the other against her spine. You leaned forward enough to get the wire across her throat before you dropped to land on your feet.

She was quick to flip her sai in her grip and slam it through your thigh. Your leg buckled and she used the chance to free herself, spinning to slam her foot against the side of your head. You fell to your back with a wet thump and you pushed to your elbows, craning your neck to see her weapon skewering your thigh. The red stained tip poked through and any movement sent a sharp pain through your body, eminating deep within your bone. She dared to move closer and you kicked the opposing foot against her chest.

Once that foot landed back on the ground, the pain on the other side made you cry out. You managed to drag yourself to your feet and stood unsteadily, hopping on your good leg to try and maintain balance. You reached awkwardly behind yourself for your staffs, having to connect them quickly and use them as a cane for the moment.

“You’ll die down here with us.” Elektra’s voice taunted you, though she was no where to be seen. “As you should.”

You hobbled in a small circle while you tried to find where the voice was coming from. But there was no one, not even the ghost of footsteps or shuffles to give her away. The rest of your group was gone, as if they never came down with you. Not even the elevator.

Hadn’t they just been there?

The tunnels around you stretched as far as you could see, dripping and collecting small puddles. Your labored breathing filled the silence between drips and you felt something eerily out of place about the whole thing.

“Come on then.” You challenged weakly. A deep breathe before you screamed into the wet darkness. “Come out and kill me!”

“Y/N.” He said calmly and you spun so fast you nearly slipped in the water. But when you glanced down to find your footing, you were in a puddle of blood. All of the water had turned to blood. You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head, assuming it was your own mania creeping in, but when you opened them the sight hadn’t changed.

“This is what you wanted.” He used the same eerily calm tone, even as the ground shook beneath your feet.

“You should’ve left.” You said angrily as the drips began to land on your forehead. “You shouldn’t be here, Matt.”

“Then why didn’t you keep him safe?” Elektra appeared at his side, walking around him like a predator taunting her prey. Her fingers trailed along the back of his shoulders.

But even in the dim light, neither of them looked like themselves. They were soaking wet and it looked it was water on their bodies, but it reflected red once it hit the ground. Their skins were tinted blue, cyanotic to match their puffy lips and swollen bodies. Their eyes were hollow, sunken in and hardly even there. Everytime their mouths open, blood spilled. They looked like corpses that had been left at the bottom of the river for months to decay in silence.

“I tried.” You answered but the sound barely registered.

Your eye suddenly stung and when you reached to wipe it, your hand came back with fresh red blood. The scar above your eye, the deep gash your mask left from your fight with Fisk, was now fresh and seeping into your eye. The scar on your cheekbone stained the lower half of your face. Your chest snapped and the cartilage fell loose and the old cracks in your ribs fell open. One by one, old injuries became fresh again and each one felt like a hit to your stamina, to your strength, until you fell back to your knees.

Elektra appeared in front of you now, reaching with a sadistic smile for her sai that still dripped with your blood. You tried to back away but landed against Matt, who moved quickly to pin you to the ground. You struggled against him, but he leaned more of his weight against you and left you flailing and kicking.

“Matt? Matt, what are you doing?” You said in a panic but your own blood filled your mouth.

Elektra twisted the weapon in your leg and you screamed out, a gurggled sound that nearly choked you. You kicked your other foot at her but it moved through her, as if she was never really there.

“You’ll die. Painfully.” She threatened before a second sai appeared in her hands.

She climbed over your body, knees on either side of your ribs as she lined her weapon with the center of your chest. By then you were crying, hair sticking to your face and thrashing your body under her weight. But she didn’t move. Matt didn’t move. Instead, they offered each other wicked smiles before both looking down at you.

“You could’ve saved me, Y/N/N… Why didn’t you?” Matt asked.

You opened your mouth to answer but before your voice could find you, Elektra’s weapon began to press into your chest.

Breaking the skin earned a whine.

Her jamming the heel of her hand against it to break through your sternum drew a groan.

Her slow, intentional pressure against your heart earned a plead.

“I can fix this.” You tried, barely a whisper above the shattering thuds of collapsing rock.

“If you could’ve…” She said lowly, leaning forward to meet your panicked eyes, dripping blood from her lips. “You would’ve already.”

Your eyes went wide at the wet sound of the sai piercing your heart.

———————————————————————————————————————

You shot up in your bed and a hand instantly moved to your cheek. The skin was clear of blood but covered in a layer of sweat. You felt above your brow and found the same. With a small noise of stress, you threw your comforter back and shuffled to the bathroom. A hand was rubbing the center of your chest, haunted by the tip of Elektra’s weapon.

You flipped the light, squinting through it for a minute until your eyes adjusted. You planted both hands against the countertop and leaned in to see the faint lines of scars around your eye. The subtle discolorations that followed the shape of your mask, permanent memories of your time as a vigilante, of that hole deep inside you that you couldn’t quite fill. Quantico had done very little towards that gaping feeling, that hole somewhere too deep for you reach that felt like it would swallow you everyday.

You thought that FBI training, getting away from the Kitchen, would maybe be good for you. It’d be time to breathe, maybe even grieve. But those words didn’t seem to mean anything to you anymore. It just felt like they were adding to that depth, sucking out any remnants of progress you had made.

Maybe coming home wasn’t going to be any better.

You blew out a sigh and splashed your face with cold water, a contrast to the heat that seemed to live in your blood now. You felt warm, everywhere you went. No matter the temperature outside, you were boiling inside. But if someone were to touch your skin, they’d never know.

That was who you were now. Not Y/N. Not even Exodus. You were someone else. Someone with Y/N’s memories and tendencies, with Exodus’ mania and skills, but other things were left unaccounted for. Who’s morals did you maintain? Who’s relationships were important?

Who’s heart beat in your chest? Who’s blood was in your veins?

But if you thought about it too long, Matt’s voice would creep into your thoughts. Random things he had told you throughout the time you knew him. Empty promises he made to Exodus. Honest sentiment he gave to Y/N. The last words you heard him say.

You shoved those thoughts to a deep corner of your mind as you headed back to the living room. The chest in the closet seemed to call out to you. The chest full of boxing memorabilia pertaining to Matt’s father, some of his own collection and some you were able to add for him, one of his bibles, and the false bottom that allowed him to hide his suit.

The suit that would never be there again.

You sighed and shook your head before heading to your bedroom to find clothes for the day. You might as well get ready since you knew your mind wasn’t going to let you sleep again anytime soon.

Wasting as much time as you could, you got ready and headed out into the city. You had been back from Quantico for about a week and you were trying to settle back into the Kitchen, but the nightmare of Midland haunted you every night. It was a little different everytime, sometimes the words they spoke to you changed and once it was Matt that killed you with your own blade, but it always the same premise. The three of you, everything coated in blood, and you died.

It was either your conscious gnawing at you and refusing to let you escape, even in sleep, or it was the universe telling you that death would find you. Either way, it never left your mind.

As you were out, you saw Matt in every face. Everywhere you went, you saw him. You almost called his name a few times until you got a better look and remembered he was dead. It felt like you were losing yourself in the grief, in the hopes that it was all a bad dream. Maybe you were still dreaming?

But then someone bumped your shoulder walking by and you knew you weren’t. Weeks had passed and you still couldn’t fully stomach the fact that he was gone. In your mind, you just wanted him there and he was everywhere but nowhere all at once.

You were wandering your usual streets, fighting through the relentless deja vu, stopping at one of the few lunch spots you missed, and ended up at the only building you thought could help. It was one of the few places you didn’t avoid prior to your time away, and now, maybe it was the only chance to cool the blaze under your skin. To fill the hole.

You walked in with a shaky breath and found Father Lantom outside the confessional, talking to one of the nuns with hushed urgency. But as you approached, he sent the nun away and turned to you with a small but welcoming smile. He gestured to the small, private conversation box and you simply nodded. He stepped inside first and you followed suit into your side about a minute later.

“Good to have you back.” Father Lantom said after a short silence. “How was your training?”

“Good, yeah, it was good.” You answered simply. “Dex said everything went really well so now it’s just waiting for approval or something, I don’t really remember…”

“It was quick.”

“Yeah, it was a specialty.. Accelerated… Accelerated program.” Your eyes fell and you noticed you were wringing your fingers. Since when did you do that? “Look, Father, I don’t know if there’s something I’m supposed to say to start this but…”

“Whatever you need to say, Y/N.” He offered genuinely. “Whenever you’re ready to say it.”

“I keep having this nightmare, Elektra and Matt and me. Under Midland and we all die together… Usually El does it but Matt’s done it too, killed me. And I thought being away would make it easier. But it feels worse… I can’t sleep. I hardly eat. I just feel empty.”

“Have you ever felt anything like this before?”

“When I was younger, when I realized what I was going to have to do in the Red Room. I didn’t feel like a person…”

“Hmm..”

“But then I got out and out of nowhere I meet Matt and suddenly… It was like my heart was beating in my chest for the first time.” You couldn’t fight the sad smile that stretched your lips. “Now, it’s like anytime I think about him, my heart can’t beat. It’s just there, weighing down my chest like a rock.”

“When Matt would first tell me about his night activities, he was so twisted up about some of the things he found.” He spoke carefully, treading a fine line between breaking the seal of confession and finding the details that he hoped would offer you comfort. “Some of the things he had seen, what some people in this town were capable of…”

“People like me?”

“No. He never spoke unkindly about you, even before he knew.”

That seemed to fill the hole a little but the blaze remained.

“Yeah, he wasn’t the type…” You sniffled. “Were you able to help him?”

“What I offered wasn’t the help he needed. I could offer bible verses and quotes to him every day, but he knew them all. He knew the stories and the psalms as easy as he knew his way here.”

“So what’d you say?”

“I told him to listen to his heart, because his had always been good. Angry and hurt, yes, but also good.”

“I’ve never felt this alone.” You spoke, a distance in your voice as you stared at the wood door in front of you. “I’ve been left before, by others and by my own choice. I’ve sabotaged my life to a point where I had to be alone and I’ve sacrificed my lifestyle to protect people around… I don’t want to feel this again.”

“Feeling these kinds of things is what makes us human.”

“Yeah..” You nodded, finding the familiar mental ledge that could take it all away. That could turn it all off so it didn’t matter, that would let Y/N rest. All you had to do… Was give her… A little push. “Maybe that humanity is the issue.”

“Guilt is a good thing.. It’s a soul’s call to action, the innate feeling that something is wrong. The only way to rid yourself of it is to correct your mistakes.”

“Correct my mistakes…” You repeated slowly. “I can’t correct this one… Not the way I’d need to. But I know how to get rid of these feelings.”

“Y/N?” He asked quickly and the concern was palpable in his voice.

“Thanks, Father… It’s been nice catching up.”

And with that, you left the church. You took a deep breathe when you stepped out, the crisp New York air hitting you as soon as you stepped out. There was something freeing in that breath. The heat still blazed with every beat of your stoned heart, leaving a trail of warmth through your veins. The hole still lived in your soul but now you fed it, all the sorrow and despair and loneliness was shoved into the hole. It didn’t fill it by any means, but it satisfied it enough that it wouldn’t swallow you whole. It allowed you to live, and for now that was enough.

The rest of your day was relatively uneventful. You went home for a while and did some reorganzing. You cleaned up some of Matt’s leftover belongings that you were unable to touch before. You even started a pile of things that you figured you should donate. Someone else in the Kitchen could probably use some of those suits.

You took down some photos and put them in the closet with his chest. You even took down that painting from the art gallery you bought. It was the red one Vanessa had showed you. You bought it because you had liked it. It made you think of the Man in the Mask and how turbulent your relationship was but now that he was gone, it was just another token of a dead life. So you shoved it away as well.

You cleaned some of the things you had been neglecting and began to feel like you were actually getting some sort of normalcy back. It wasn’t the normalcy that Matt would’ve wanted for you. You could recognize that, but you never expected to have that anyway. You never had the normalcy he wanted for you when he wasn’t around, so you felt no requirement to find it now that he was gone. And maybe you owed it to his memory to live a real life, live a life of peace, but that was never part of you.

It was later that night when you realized what day it was.

Curtis’ support group for veterans.

You were always welcomed there, ever since you started with Anvil. He never made you talk but the option was always there. And you did, occasionally, if only to shut down one of the other guys. There was a certain respect from Curtis that you didn’t find in other people. He knew you were from an ‘elite covert kill squad’ since childhood but he didn’t ask other questions. He didn’t need to know everything to know that you were lost. It was refreshing and you liked to stay after official sessions to talk about whatever you were thinking or feeling.

But glancing at the time, it was too late for that. So you shrugged it off and decided you’d go next time. At least to say hello to an old friend, the least judgemental one you had left. Instead, you decided you’d go to the bookstore and add to your to-be-read collection while continuing to ignore texts from everyone that knew you.

It wasn’t long until alleged vigilantism found it’s way to you. That next morning, stories of an assault at a construction zone hit your ears. Bodies found under fresh concrete with more blunt force injuries than they should’ve had. Then, estimated to be a few hours later, a hit against a prominent crime family.

It had a familiarity to it that you couldn’t quite place, but it gave you an odd sense of comfort. There was the haunt of concern in your bones, as if you worried that there was something left unanswered within you, but Matt took that part with him. When he died, so did that part of you that wanted to do something good. That wanted to help the neighborhood you loved. You liked the fact that someone else was handling it for you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t vaguely set off an old itch that liked to be scratched. An old manic, sadistic, worrisome itch that could easily spiral to a full blown bloodbath.

So instead, you carried on with your day. You went to the grocery store to refill your fridge and your pantry. You bought some new clothes, more fitting for an FBI agent, and got some plastic totes to put away some of Matt’s things. The things you didn’t want to look at but couldn’t quite bring yourself to get rid of.

While you were out, you decided to stop by an old warehouse. You weren’t even sure if he would be there, but it was the only starting point you had. You knocked lightly on the door before heading inside, watching the corners and dark shadows carefully.

“Melvin.” You called out when you saw the vague shape of a man sweeping in the corner. “I just wanna talk.”

“Whoever you are, I don’t talk.” He said sharply, coming into full view with a wrench gripped tightly in his hands. “Just go on back the way you came and this never happened.”

“We had a mutual friend.” You said simply, lifting your head a little. “Our Man in the Mask.”

“Shit.” He breathed, slowly dropping the wrench. “I uh, heard he’s gone… That true?”

“Yeah. Your suit protected him from a lot but couldn’t withstand a falling building.”

“Shit.” He said again.

“Mmm.” You agreed. “I came to ask you for something. A vest. Clean lines, simple build. Something I can wear daily, under my normal clothes.”

“Guess that makes you Exodus, huh?” He broke into a small smile that didn’t last. “Sorry but I don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I figured… Neither do I, not really. Ever since Red went down, I…” You took a deep breath. “I got a good job lined up, just need a little something.”

He sighed heavily and turned to the ceiling before facing you again.

“I’ll do you a favor, just this once cause your friend always kept his word. But don’t expect anything else.” He said firmly, pointing a finger at you.

“One and done.” You nodded.

“Alright.. Ah jeez, okay. Your measurements the same? Red and black still?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You looked at your arms and chest. “And uh, no. No red.”

“C’mon.” He guffawed. “You and Daredevil were partners. You don’t want anything to remember him?”

“Just do whatever.” You shrugged. “How much?”

“It’s on me. I never charged your buddy so… Just gimme a day or two. I’ll get you something nice.”

“I appreciate it.” You offered a smile, though you didn’t quite mean it. “Thanks, Melvin.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved you off. “Don’t ask me for nothing. Alright? I mean it.”

“I get it.” You insisted as you backed towards the door. “Looking forward to it.”

Later that day, not long after you had unloaded all of your groceries, a hard knock sounded at your door. You ignored it, assuming it was just your friends coming to see if you were home yet. Either that, some kids screwing around, or it was just someone from your past coming to kill you. Who exactly was out to get you at that point, you weren’t sure, but there were enough skeletons in your closet that hadn’t fallen out yet. So you went about your business until the door flew open and someone rushed in.

Calmly, you grabbed the gun you tucked between the fridge and wall and turned to face whoever was in your apartment. You gripped it comfortably and cleared your throat, seeing them turn with a sharp gasp. Your brows raised expectantly and Karen’s hands shot up instantly.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.” She breathed before covering a hand to her chest. “How long have you been back?”

“How often do you come into my apartment?” You asked instead, lowering the gun but not putting it down.

“I just-” She tried to explain but her eyes kept falling to the gun. “Can you put that down, please?”

“Don’t trust me anymore?” You raised your brows before tucking the gun into the back of your waistband. “Answer my question.”

“Has he reached out to you?” She asked instead.

“I’m not playing games, Karen. If you have something to tell me, then spit it out and get out of my apartment. If you only came here to fuck around…”

“Frank.” She said quickly. “Frank’s back.”

“Explains the news.” You tilted your head in acknowledgement. “What’d he come to you for?”

“Something about some Micro, a guy that came after him recently. Knows who he is, that he’s alive.”

“Micro… This guy have a real name?”

“David Lieberman, NSA analyst that is officially shot dead by Homeland Security a year ago.”

“Only he’s not.” You nodded. “Okay. Where’s Frank now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is he going after Lieberman?” You closed your eyes and rubbed your forehead, weighing the pros and cons of you getting involved.

“Probably… But Frank said he’s a- He’s a spook. How would he find him?”

“Well, he wouldn’t go for him directly, but someone that knows him or is relevant to him just might work to draw him out. What other names did you work out?”

“Carson Wolf got the whole story cut, could be something there.”

“Probably.. Name sounds familiar.” You felt the scales tilting back and forth in your brain. “Why did you come and tell me about this?”

“Because I-” She hesitated, as if she had just noticed your reaction. “He doesn’t really seem like he wants me involved.”

“So you want me to go run into a fight I know nothing about?” You dropped your hand against your leg with a smack and opened your eyes. “Don’t you think if Frank wanted my help, he would’ve came to me himself?”

“Maybe he didn’t know where to find you.” She offered, clearly searching for anything to convince you.

“Or maybe he didn’t care enough to find me.” You countered with a shrug. But seeing the desperation in her eyes, feeling the plead in her bones, you sighed heavily. “I’ll think about it… I’ll look into Lieberman, maybe there’s a wife or siblings or something. And this Wolf guy, I think I heard his name around Quantico so I guess I can pull some strings in that direction.”

“Thank you.” She let out a sharp exhale, as if she had been holding her breath for your response. “Have you told Foggy you’re back?”

“No.” You turned away to busy yourself in your kitchen. “Haven’t told anyone.”

“I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She tried gently. You noticed the hesitation in her words and realized she was walking on eggshells, completely unsure of how stable you were. “Or at least hear from you.”

“The last conversation we had was an argument.” You admitted, though your voice lacked the remorse it should’ve had and it was too late to add it in now. “And he flinched away from me… He told me that if I wanted to get myself killed, I was more than welcome to as long as I didn’t try to blame anyone other than myself for it.”

Her mouth opened and closed in silence, like she was chomping at the air while she tried to find a response. Finally, her voice found her and it was the same response you expected.

“He had to have still been in shock.”

“He had more than enough time to get over it.”

��I know he wouldn’t say that to you and mean it.” She reasoned.

“Yeah, just like Matt never would’ve said half of what he said to me during the Castle trial, right?” Your brows raised in accusation and you saw her expression drop. “Yeah, sometimes pain or shock bring out what people really mean.”

“Y/N-”

“Doesn’t matter.” You cut in firmly. “Next time you see Frank, ask him if he wants my help. In the meantime, I’ll poke around and start building some intel.”

“Thanks.” She forced a tight smile. “And I’ll talk to Foggy, if you want me to.”

You simply shrugged.

“He’s one of your best friends, isn’t he?” She asked gently, scared for what your answer would be.

“Most of the people I’ve called friends have grown to hate me for one reason or another… I guess I always knew I’d add Foggy to that list one of these days.” You answered flatly.

“C’mon, Y/N.” She tried again.

“Better that than dead… You can go now.”

With a small gesture of defeat, she left. And you wondered if you were going to regret getting involved.

Some quick research into Lieberman showed he did leave a family behind, a wife and two kids. You had no intentions of hurting them but should there be a need, you had blackmail material. He was allegedly shot dead by Homeland after resisting arrest. There was nothing about why he was wanted by Homeland, nor was there anything about his career. But he was NSA, so there should’ve been something other than a passing mention.

That all just meant someone wanted it to go away, and that someone was likely this Carson Wolf character.

You thought about going over to the address you could find for Sarah Lieberman but you assumed Frank would’ve been there already. And two unfamiliar visitors in one day would’ve triggered some sort of concern in the wife, who you had to assume was helping hide her undead husband until you knew otherwise. Instead, you wrote down the address and looked into Carson Wolf. You found that he was one of the higher ups at Homeland Security. It was an interesting connection that you’d have to poke at later.

With a little digging, you also found some information on the construction site incident. There was a feature on the company’s webpage about a new employee, which was asterisked as inactive the day after the bodies were found. There was no picture on the page but you could only assume that Pete Castiglione was the one and only, Frank Castle.

You decided to get out of the house and headed out to get something to drink. You passed by Josie’s and thought about going in. But when you reached the door, you were hit with one of many memories of you and Matt in that place so you had to pass. You passed other bars as you wandered and none really seemed inviting. Eventually, your feet grew tired of aimlessly moving so you settled on a bar you had been to with Billy a few times. Low and behold, Billy was already there.

You felt his eyes following you as you passed by, taking a seat at the bar a few seats down. You ordered your drink and when it came out, you spun the liquid around the glass, listening vaguely to Billy talking about his service and Frank.

The woman kept asking questions pertaining to Frank and their conversation held your interest. Without making it obvious, you noted what she was asking.

Did he get dirty? Could he have been involved in drugs over there?

But why ask questions about a dead man? Who was she?

The gears in your brain were turning when you heard Billy’s question.

“So you’re single?” He asked, clear flirting in his tone. Your head cocked slightly and your brow raised, noticing he was already looking at you for a reaction. He laughed and tilted his bottle towards you but you simply smiled and shook your head.

He went back to his flirting and you rolled your eyes slightly at his next remark. But you did hear a name.

Special Agent Madani.

You could tell she was either going to be one hell of an obstacle or one hell of an ally.

You watched her leave and then decided to slide into her seat.

“Billy Russo, always the player.” You teased with a sly smile and he grinned. “How’ve you been? Lonely?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” He said happily. “And here I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well, Quantico was fun but I got bored.” You shrugged playfully. “Knew everything they wanted to teach me.”

“Yeah, I bet you did..” He nodded, never dropping that sly smile. “Bet you made one hell of an impression too.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Yes, you do… Y’know, I missed you.”

“You did not.” You scoffed lightly, gesturing to the bartender for a second drink. “Judging by your latest visitor.”

“Ah, I see what this is.” He chuckled. “You’re jealous.”

“In your dreams, Russo.” You rolled your eyes with an amused smile. “Who was that anyways? She was asking a lot of questions…”

“Dinah Madani.” He answered simply. “Homeland agent that brought a team through Anvil earlier.”

“Homeland, huh?” You turned towards the door even though she was long gone. “Interesting…”

“Why?”

When you didn’t answer, he reached for your chin and turned your face towards him.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” His eyes darted between yours as he tried to figure you out, but you knew he never would. Not in any way that would mean anything.

“Just curious why a Homeland agent is asking about a dead man is all…” You shrugged. “And it’s a pattern.”

“Oh, it’s a pattern.” He said with a nod, acting as if it explained everything. “What does the pattern tell you?”

“That you like women in power.” You answered plainly. “Me, now in the FBI and everything else I’ve done. Madani, in Homeland with what I would assume is solid standing. Next thing you know, you’re gonna bed a senator.”

“I’ll still come back to my best girl.” He smiled, tapping under your chin with a click of his tongue.

“Yeah, like there was any competition.” You chuckled.

“When’d you get back?” He nodded towards you, decidingly dropping your previous conversation topic.

“Week ago. I thought about coming by, decided not to.” A slight shrug of your shoulder.

“Why not?” He almost sounded hurt.

“Just tired. Needed sound time to settle in.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in slightly and raised his brows. “How about we spend some quality time tonight then, hmm? You got any other plans?”

“Hmm.” The corner of your mouth lifted to a small smile. “I’ll have to check my schedule, Mr. Russo.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned back, wagging his finger at you with an amused smirk of his own. “I missed hearing you say that, pretty lady.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You nodded and sipped your drink.

You spent a little while longer drinking with Billy, catching up and teasing each other playfully. It was almost enough for you to forget what you had been asked earlier that night, to involve yourself in Frank’s latest crusade that he likely expected to cover on his own. Finding Frank would’ve been easy enough if you had a general direction to go in, but where could be? Would he be going after Micro or would he be taunting Micro to go after him again?

If this guy was as much a spook as Karen’s been led to believe, it wouldn’t be easy to draw him out. But knowing Frank, he would find a way to pull him out of his hidey-hole. Which meant you could follow your own leads tonight and potentially meet him, or you could worry about it tomorrow and waste a night with an old fling.

Billy was tempting… And Frank would be fine for one more night, wherever he was.

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