“I won’t say it again, Red,” Frank snapped, slamming his hand down on Matt’s desk. “Stay the hell out of this.”
Matt sighed, fingertips massaging his temples like Frank was just a big headache he could make disappear. Like hell Frank would let it go that easily.
The door to the office opened sharply, and Frank had his gun out and facing the new guest faster than Matt could issue a warning.
It was a woman wearing a Yankees hat pulled low and a nondescript black jacket, no doubt an attempt to appear low-key. Because once Frank got a glance at her face, god damn. She was gorgeous.
Barely even registering Frank, she strode past him and tossed a manila folder on Matt’s desk. “It’s all there. Make me proud, Stevie Wonder.” She glanced at Frank, who had lowered his gun and was blatantly staring now, as she headed back out, raising an eyebrow. “Oh. Hey, Castle. Thought you were dead.”
With that, she was gone, Matt letting out an exasperated sigh as he took the folder she has left and waved it in Frank’s direction. “You’re lucky I have other things to worry about right now, Frank. But I won’t forget.”
Frank blinked. “Who the fuck was that?”
Pulling out a few papers and running his fingers over the braille, Matt’s brow furrowed as he turned his focus on the documents. “Huh? Uh, a detective I’m working with. She’s giving us information on a case.”
“Thought you hated cops.”
Matt smirked, shrugging. “Not ones that care about justice more than closing a case.”
Frank wondered if Matt was sleeping with her.
“No, we’re not together. Go for it.”
Rolling his eyes, Frank remembered once again why he hated being around Red. The bastard was way too perceptive. “Maybe I will. You can’t tell but she’s fuckin’ beautiful.”
“I don’t wanna know how,” Frank grimaced, giving Matt one last glare. “And I mean it, Murdock. Next time I won’t just be aimin’ for your shoulder.”
Matt wasn’t even paying attention as he sifted through the files, and Frank left hoping he didn’t need to deal with him again in the near future. He had bigger shit to deal with.
Like the fact he might be in love with the hot detective that just became one of the select few in the city that knew he was alive.
You left Matt’s office with your head down, headed towards the subway while keeping an eye out for any tails. You didn’t think you were being followed, but tonight wasn’t the usual drop-and-go.
Usually, you didn’t face the business-end of Frank Castle’s gun when you dropped off your findings to Matt’s office. It didn’t surprise you he was alive; the Punisher seemed like he would be hard to kill. It did surprise you he was back in New York.
You head footsteps behind you, and subtly checked over your shoulder.
A man with his hood up was behind you a few meters away, and you smiled softly when you recognized the sweater. You turned the corner, casually leaning against the storefront wall until the man appear.
Frank wanted you to know he was following you. He could be invisible if he needed to be. But he didn’t want to scare you, either.
He took you in, slowly leaning beside you but keeping his eyes on the ground. “You, uh… don’t seem very concerned, Detective,” he said lowly.
You shrugged. “Matty defended you. If he was on your side, so am I.”
“That’s generous. You must trust him.”
“I trust his taste in clients,” you murmured, observing Frank. He looked okay— tired, maybe. Bruised and healing from a few cuts, but you wouldn’t expect anything less. “Do you need anything, Frank?”
He looked at you then, confused. He didn’t know you. You didn’t know him. He knew you were helping Matt and you were a police officer, but you didn’t seem too concerned about him being here. He didn’t even know why he followed after you, other than you were a beautiful woman who seemed to care about justice the way Matt and he did, and you spoke to him like he was a human being.
“I, um… need somewhere to stay, ma’am.”
You smiled softly, nodding. “I can help with that.”
So Frank followed you home, hoping to hell this woman wasn’t going to be his downfall. He wasn’t holding out much hope.
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