capeandcowllogs | One moment I was tearing off your blouse, now you're living in my house.

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One moment I was tearing off your blouse, now you're living in my house.

WHO: Castle and Crawley
WHERE: One of Frank's safehouses.
WHEN: Tonight??
WARNINGS: uh
SUMMARY: lil comes in like a wrecking ball. also: bunny.
FORMAT: lazy

[ He hasn't quite figured out how to use the souljour yet.

He supposes he should call it what it is: he hasn't figured out how to use the rabbit yet.

It sits in a pen in a corner of the safe house, the amulet that nullifies its powers hanging on the wall nearby. Frank has been testing its range, and its fairly decent. The issue is, he can't be sure it's practical to try to use the thing for a fight -- although it seems wasteful to just dispose of it, having come from Asthenoa and being impossible to duplicate.

Frank sits in his chair, drinking coffee and watching the rabbit prop up on its back legs. It looks at him, nose twitching, and Frank stares back: dull and unimpressed.

Maybe it's more trouble than it's worth. ]

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[ speaking of things that are more trouble than they're worth -- it's a stroke of luck really, that frank's had nearly a month of relative peace and quiet in the absence of one lillian crawley, who had been growing progressively more annoyed with each passing week. it was his sheer elusiveness that had kept her from confronting him, and as much as she hated it, lil had to admit, the man was even better at avoidance than her husband -- and that was saying something. but she was a stubborn woman. the worst kind of stubborn. like a dog with its jaw locked.

he'd have to do better than hiding from her.

danger had been skeptical (she always was), but willing enough to help, if only because it meant getting lil out of her hair. it was almost a little disturbing, how the bot seemed to have eyes and ears just about everywhere -- helpful, but disturbing. but she'd produced an address for lil to investigate, which led her to this moment, standing outside one of frank's safehouses with a month's worth of pent up frustration of more than one kind.

she knocks. loudly. ]

[ There usually isn't much noise down here. When Frank is present, it's usually for absent busywork: research or fixing the equipment he's collected from dead men. So, understandably, the harsh knock on the door is a shock -- to himself and the rabbit.

The rabbit takes it less kindly than he does. It startles and stomps its back feet, nose moving quickly as it scurries from one corner of the cage to another. It continues to announce its displeasure with more aggressive thumps, and Frank squints, ignoring it, moving to grab his gun.

Turns out, he doesn't need it.

He debates not opening the door, after the peephole betrays who is on the other side -- but he knows this woman. This safehouse is compromised now; perfect.

He opens the door, standing in the frame. ]

How did you find this place?

[ the woman has a lot of nerve, standing there at his door like she's the one with any right to be offended here. she lets one hand find her waist, weight leaning to one hip with something like impatience. her eyes give him a critical once over, her tone unrepentantly catty when she points at the gun in his hand. ]

That wouldn'tve helped y'much.

[ good to know she's starting this off maturely. but at least she has the decency to answer his question: ]

I made Danger help me. Knew it'd probably piss y'off, but it serves y'right, anyway. So. Y'gonna let me in, or what?

[ He realizes that about the gun now, but he doesn't bother having that argument out loud. He just keeps the gun lowered at his side, his finger off the trigger. ]

Danger. [ The robot. The one he went after Hooded Justice with. Practical. Decent ally. Good in combat -- but carries a vendetta about the hospital. Not in his favor.

Probably why she offered him up like this. ]

What is it you want?

[ He still doesn't move from the doorway, and behind him the rabbit thumps its feet in lingering protest. ]

[ lil gives him an impatient look, then glances into the safe house behind him -- either because of the thumping sound, or because she's trying to decide if she should just push right past him. ]

I wanted t'see you.

[ she purses her lips before going on irritably: ]

Look, y'can let me in, or I can force it. Either way, I'm comin' in. Your choice, but y'got a pretty steady track record of pussyin' out an' backin' down with me, so don't go messin' it up now.

[ That phrasing causes his eye to narrow. He frowns, but doesn't rise to the obvious bait. Instead, he steps back. There's no point in denying her entry; this place is already compromised by her knowledge of it, and it'd only get worse if she took offense and made a scene.

Not that there is much to see: weaponry. One lone computer (nothing like the complicated mess that Micro, Stuart or Henry would've accumulated). A simple, buzzing mini-fridge. And the rabbit.

The rabbit, which is still fussing and thumping its feet. Frank ignores it, returning to his abandoned coffee and picking it up again. ]

Make it quick.

[ she might even be a little disappointed to get such a minimal reaction to an obvious provocation, but frank and madison have always been different that way -- madison was more fragile. he would cower first, then retaliate. that in and of itself was comforting, in a sick sort of way. he'd seemed vulnerable and human to her then. but frank hardly responds at all. still, he does let her in. small victories. ]

What, like y'got somewhere t'be? [ her gaze wanders the place openly as she talks. she's never seen where he lives before, but it's much the way she imagined it might be. sparse. utilitarian. ] I mean, look at y'holed up in here. If y'really wanna get rid of me, y'better --

[ finally, she can't ignore that thumping noise anymore. she exhales, annoyed, like she's going to say something about it, but then her eyes find the pen and its occupant. the change in her expression is remarkable. ]

Oh. [ lil sinks down to the floor, kneeling by the pen and tilting her head to get a better look inside. ] Oh, Frank, it's so cute.

[ He frowns a little at the response, but at least it's letting him off of a lecture. ]

It's dangerous.

[ That almost sounds defensive. ]

From Asthenoa. Looks ordinary, but contact makes the victim spit up blood -- and proximity causes a drain within a certain distance. Still testing how far. [ He makes a gesture to the amulet he has hanging near the pen. ] That neutralizes it.

[ He takes a sip of his coffee, watching her. ] Can't decide how to use it yet.

[ use of the word "dangerous" doesn't seem to particularly phase lil -- but warnings rarely do. she does seem to listen enough to reach for the amulet though, taking it and hanging it around her neck, casual as you please, before unlatching the pen. she makes a soft little cooing sound, the way women sometimes do with babies and other small helpless things, and carefully reaches inside, gently drawing the animal out into her arms. ]

What, like y'wanna set 'im on your enemies or somethin'? Have 'im be your sidekick?

[ she leans to kiss the rabbit between the ears affectionately. ]

Y'hear that, Fluffy? You're like the Punisher's cute lil' mascot.

Funny.

[ That's as much as he'll acknowledge her taunting. He frowns a little when she takes the amulet. She could walk away with that, if he isn't careful about paying her attention. Indirectly, she just took a bartering chip.

He should have been more careful about that. ]

What is it you want?

[ at the very least, lil doesn't seem like she's thought this through enough to consider things like the advantage of a bargaining chip -- but she's never really been much of a planner. she's a creature of impulse, mercurial, going from raging to calm at a moment's notice. maybe it's a blessing that she's relatively tolerable now, occupied by stroking the rabbit between the ears, letting it rest in her lap.

her answer is deceptively nonchalant, when it finally comes: ]

I told you. I just wanted t'see you.

[ His good eye narrows at her. This is the kind of casual encounter that he was actively trying to avoid. He should have known that she wouldn't let things rest at simple indulgence and impulse. He misjudged; he ought to have known better.

Now, he underestimated her stubbornness too.

He sets his coffee down, his voice clipped and firm. ]

Won't do social calls.

Can't happen.

[ she's unfazed by it -- the way he looks at her, disapproving, and the shortness of his voice. it's nothing really, compared to the things she and madison would put each other through. her skin is thicker than that, and her will is stronger than most.

finally, she glances up, pursing her lips at him briefly as she eyes him back. it's blunt and a little impatient when she responds, reminiscent of how she spoke when they parted ways that night in october. ]

So, what, you'll put your face between my thighs, but y'won't see me unless I've got my clothes off or you're about t'bleed out? That's stupid, Frank.

No. Expecting more than that is stupid.

[ He speaks flatly and firmly. She's taller than him, and by estimation of her powers, in theory she's stronger. However, that concept doesn't even press on his mind. Instead he simply watches her. ]

You want something else. Isn't possible.

Stupid to encourage it. Made a mistake.

[ He shakes his head, slightly, and his scowl remains. ]

You should go.

[ it's her willpower more than her physical strength that makes her dangerous in a situation like this. she watches him back, holding his gaze in a steady and stubborn way. he doesn't intimidate her -- he can't, not with words. as harsh a rejection as it is, it's a far cry from madison's confession that he wished she would die, and so it only stings a little, far from enough.

she keeps sitting there on the floor with that rabbit in her lap, quiet like the calm before a storm. there's something determined in her face when she responds flatly: ]

Make me.

[ He doesn't require any further goading.

He steps forward, reaches out, and snatches the amulet from around her neck. The chain snaps easily enough with just a little force, and he holds it up in demonstration. ]

I leave with this; the souljour's power becomes active again. If you stay, try to wait it out, then that thing will kill you. Invulnerability won't work against a drain on your soul.

Or, you leave too; don't follow and don't go looking for me later.

Your choice.

[ truthfully, she isn't listening. she isn't even really looking at him, hardly flinching when he pulls the amulet free from her neck. after the containment camp at neverland, not a lot scares her anymore -- this doesn't seem to, anyway. all she does is carefully lift the little animal from her lap, leaning to tuck it back into its pen. then she exhales, rises to her feet --

and promptly punches him square in the face. ]

[ She hits hard.

He should have been braced for it. It isn't like her go along with anything quietly. Still, she lands the hit, and he feels his nose crunch under the strike. He recoils, stumbling back a step.

But he doesn't drop the amulet. ]

[ it's satisfying. in all honesty, the amount of pent up frustration she has towards this man rivals her frustration towards her husband -- and that's saying something. anyway, nobody ever accused her of being a nice girl.

it's too bad he stumbles, because long legs carry her easily over the small distance between them, and she's in on him quickly. she doesn't even try for the amulet -- that seems almost beside the point to her now, when it's him that's pissing her off -- instead putting two hands on him and shoving him backward like a schoolyard bully. ]

Try threatenin' me again, y'bastard, jus' try it --

[ He doesn't try threatening her. In fact, he doesn't try anything.

He won't raise his hands against her. This isn't like Rachel, who he knew required that; Rachel was a soldier, his soldier, and that kind of response was not out of line. Like breaking in a rookie in boot camp; it was what she needed to set her straight. That won't work with Lil. That would simply be assault. That isn't the answer; it'd do more harm than good.

Then there's something else:

This feels different than her previous stubbornness. There's something worse here, more sensitive--

His back hits the desk, the items on it clattering, and his mug tipping over to crash onto the floor. Ceramic shatters and coffee stains the safe house floor, and Frank doesn't raise his hands. ]

[ she gets her hands in his clothes, gripping tight enough to strain the fabric between her curled fingers. like this, with so little space between them, her emotions are almost tangible. she stares at him, hard, eyes fierce and angry as she hovers on the edge of more violence. the tension is visible in her body, as if her skin can barely contain the intensity of her feelings.

there's aggression in her voice, even though the words come low. ]

Y'could at least fight back.

[ then something falters in her expression a little, something more upset than angry. ]

It really don't goddamn matter t'you, does it? If I'm takin' my clothes off or breakin' your nose -- y'just take it 'cause it don't matter.

[ He won't fight back against her, but he doesn't hesitate from looking at her. His good eye focuses on her, and he exhales through his mouth. His broken nose doesn't leave him clear airways, and the blood drips down to stain his face. ]

It doesn't.

[ It isn't true, and that is the exact reason why he has to lie about it.

He has made connections before, and they have all gone down the same path: dead by his own hands, or dead because of him. It's an inevitability that he cannot escape, and won't risk.

He has to end it. ]

[ it's harder when he looks her in the eye. madison never could -- madison hated to, as if it made her too real to look at her that way. she always knew when madison was lying. but she can't tell with frank, not when he meets her gaze like that, and it makes something uncomfortable twist in her gut. it stifles her temper a little.

it's quiet, but no less intense when she asks: ]

Why didn't y'just tell me no? Y'could've, that night at my house --

[ she shakes him, frustrated. ]

Y'didn't have t'wait 'til I gave a real damn about you.

[ She isn't as naive as Henry Russo. She won't be scared off with threats. Nor is she as practical as Rachel Alves, capable of listening to reason without emotion getting the better of her. This is what it will take: making it hurt her. ]

Thought it would've been obvious.

[ He doesn't even move to swipe the blood from beneath his nose. He stays still and unresponsive. ]

I told you from the start.

[ but she can take a lot of hurt, this one. she has. and even if the sting of his words shows a little on her face, it's followed by something stubborn, something resilient that doesn't just come from her power. her stare doesn't waver, her grip stays tight in his shirt. she's unshakable. ]

It's been months since then, Frank.

[ her voice isn't any less intense, even though it wavers ever so slightly with emotion. ]

It ain't like I'm springin' this on you. Y'let it happen.

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