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“You know,” Matt said, one arm linked easily through Frank’s, “there were probably so many better ways to approach this situation.”
“Shut the fuck up, Red,” he bit back. His muscles were tense as he glanced around the crowded area. “This wasn’t my idea.”
“No, but it was the only good idea,” Micro offered in their ears. Matt had half a mind to rip his comm out -- after all, he could hear via Frank’s earpiece.
Frank somehow sensed exactly where Matt’s head was going, as he quickly said, “No. Leave it. The comms are two-way, asshole.”
Matt huffed. “I didn't say anything.”
“No, but you were thinkin’ it.”
“How would you know?”
Frank shook his head. “Whatever, Red.”
“Would you two please stop arguing and just listen?”
“We are listening,” they both snapped.
“There should be a door on your left,” Micro said after a moment. “Go through it and take the hallway on the right. All the way down there should be a mainframe. Frank -- all you have to do is find a USB port and put the thumb drive in there. Got it?”
Frank huffed in annoyance. “Course I do. It ain’t fuckin’ rocket science.”
“... You do know what a USB port looks li--”
“Yes,” Frank answered in a low growl, swiping a glass of champagne off the nearest server and downing it in one go.
“Drinking on the job?” Matt quipped.
“Fuck you, man.”
“Daredevil -- can I just call you Matt?”
“Wha-- yes. Just-- fine. Call me Matt.”
“Do you hear an electric pulse? One that sounds like… I dunno, a buzzing heartbeat?”
Both of them stopped just outside the door as Matt tilted his head and listened. Frank set his empty glass on top of a trashcan. “And if I do?” said Matt after a moment.
“Guess you gotta put your acting skills to use.”
“What?” Matt and Frank offered.
Frank was already starting to get jumpy -- this was a classy gathering, and Frank hated classy. Matt tightened his grip on Frank’s arm, and the other man immediately took a deep breath.
“You’ll need to find…” There was the clacking of keys. “Marilyn Shore -- technically the hostess, but more of a cybersecurity safeguard. She has a key -- probably decorative on a necklace or something -- that you’ll need to input so you don’t set off any alarms or trigger the fail-safes.”
“Shit,” said Frank, quiet and a tad breathlessly. “What does she look like?”
“Or smell like?” Matt added in a poor attempt to quell Frank’s anxiety.
“She’s 6’1”, Asian, dyed white hair, 30 years old. She’s one of the speakers for tonight. And sorry Matt -- I have no current information on her smell.”
“Actually,” said Matt, “I can smell the dye. And I can probably…” he sensed around, searching for someone of her height and guessing on her bone structure. “Our two o’clock. I think she’s near a couple bodyguards.”
“Matches the description,” said Frank.
Matt grinned. “I’m good.”
“Shut up.”
“You know I’m good.”
“Leiberman,” said Frank, deigning to ignore Matt (though Matt could sense his slight amusement, and he definitely didn't puff his chest out in pride at that), “do ya have anything on her that’ll make… I dunno, convincing her to give us the key without a scene easier?”
“I can be a clumsy blind and palm it off her,” Matt piped up.
“And risk gettin’ us kicked out before we make it to the mainframe?” Frank shook his head. “Why the hell didn't Leiberman just do this himself?”
“One: I’m literally right here. Two: you and I both know I don’t look the part. And three: I have to be out here to hack it. They have the perimeter safeguard, remember?”
“Fuck you,” Frank snapped, and the nearest patron looked at him with an appalled expression. He winced. “Sorry, ma’am.”
She shook her head at him in distaste but nevertheless moved on.
Matt did his best to hide his snickering with a cough.
Frank shoved him with his shoulder.
People were starting to look at the pair of them hovering in the outskirts, not talking to anyone but each other. They had to do something.
Matt tugged Frank’s arm. “People are starting to notice us,” he said.
“So?” said Frank, his voice full of contempt.
“We can’t linger. It’s suspicious. C’mon.”
Frank grumbled yet complied, his heart rate already starting to pick up. Only one of them had experience in blending into areas like these, and it certainly wasn’t Frank.
Looks like he’d have to force the socialization to a start.
Matt gently bumped into someone, enough to make them start and whip around. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Matt said, bringing the hand with his cane to his chest.
“It’s no worries,” the man said. “I should have been paying more attention. I’m James Tardin,” he said in a clipped English accent.
“Matthew Michaels,” he responded, holding out a hand. James took it and gave a firm shake. “And this is--”
“Pete Castigliano,” Frank replied, and Matt could hear the smile he was wearing. Good-- he was cooperating. “It’s a pleasure.”
“James Tardin in the nephew of Andrew Chalovey.” And they were here to take down the Chalovey empire. “From what I see, he isn’t involved in any of the bad shit going on. Probably out of the loop.”
“We just want to say congratulations on your uncle’s expansion,” Matt said. “I can’t imagine the amount of work it took to get this far.”
James chuckled. “Oh, believe me -- neither can I. Business has never been my forte, so I’m just as impressed as the rest of you.”
Frank was practically vibrating with annoyance, but he was holding it together pretty well. “So when’s the man responsible gonna give his speech?”
“It’ll be in half an hour, so plenty of time to mingle,” said James. “Speaking of which,” he continued, waving at a couple just behind them, “I have to make my rounds. Pleasure meeting you.”
Frank hummed, then tightened his grip on Matt’s arm. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Blending in, you attention-magnet. People look, you know.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“Stop saying ‘fuck’ -- this is a formal fucking event.”
Frank huffed. “One day, I’ll kill you.”
“And one day, you won’t threaten my life at every minor inconvenience.”
“Fuck you, Red.”
“Matt, I have an idea.”
Frank was dragging Matt to the bar at this point, likely to avoid the hoard of people who’d been starting to close in. “Uh-huh?”
“Steal someone’s ring.”
“What?” He tilted his head at Frank and frowned. “Why isn’t Frank’s comm linking right now?”
“I’m just talking to you -- and do it. I have an idea.”
Frank was frowning at Matt now. “What’s he sayin’?”
“Nothing, just -- order something. Calm down.”
Frank obviously wasn’t happy with this, but nevertheless, he complied.
Matt dropped his voice to a whisper. “He’s not going to like your idea, is he?”
“Most likely not. But if you create a big enough distraction, I may be able to hack in the system directly without the drive or key.”
“How?”
“It’ll set off a small ‘watch’ alarm on Marilyn Shore. Like a tornado, y’know -- watch is like, a small warning, so people usually ignore it. Now, normally, I think she’d check up on it, but if she was invested in something else at the moment, she’d let it go. Especially if it’s something she loves.”
Matt listened as Marilyn walked to the front of the room and hugged someone else. It was more polite conversation, but she wasn’t invested. Bored, even.
“And what’s that?” he asked, his tone still hushed. Frank was starting to eye his surroundings, fixating primarily on the guards or anyone else with weapons. “And what does the ring have to do with it?”
“Oh, you already stole one?”
“No, but I have one.”
“What? Why?”
“It was my dad’s -- I carry it around sometimes. It’s just plain metal -- is that okay?”
“Sure, whatever -- you’ll make it work.”
“Again, why? And what does she--”
“Proposals. She loves proposals.”
Matt didn't say anything for a second as his brain processed this. Then, “Wait.”
“Look, it’s not that big of a deal -- you just get to Marilyn Shore, ask her if it’s okay to propose at the event, and when she says yes, you do it.”
Matt felt the heat crawl up his neck. “Not a big deal?” he hissed. “Frank will kill me.”
“Haha -- trust me. He won’t.”
“Is that seriously your best idea? It probably won’t even work!”
“It definitely will. Especially if you have her involved in the proposal -- then it’s upper-class etiquette to not check on the minor possible-but-maybe-not security breach.”
“It’d be easier just to palm off the key.”
“And risk exposing your identity?”
Matt paused again. “I see why Frank doesn’t like you.”
“Oh, please -- Frank loves me.”
Matt dove his hand into his jacket pocket. The ring was there, of course.
“Shit,” he said.
Then he whipped out his cane and dashed away before Frank noticed he went missing.
Getting to Marilyn was easy enough -- upon spotting the cane, people tended to shift out of his way, and those who didn't got a soft whack for their trouble.
He made sure to approach her just as she was finishing up her conversation with the woman. Then he cleared his throat, lifted his eyebrows, and tilted his head in puppy-dog-like fashion as he said, “Ms. Shore?”
She turned to face him, taking note of the cane first before quickly taking inventory of everything else. “Oh, dear,” she laughed, “you’re blushing!”
“Are you now?” Micro asked, and that definitely didn't help Matt’s reddening state. Matt then heard a soft, “Where the--” before Frank started whipping around, looking for his partner-gone-rogue.
Matt chuckled good-naturedly, letting his chin drop slightly as he moved to rest both hands on his cane. “As any man would in front of a beautiful woman.”
She threw her head back and released a genuine, full laugh. People turned to look, but she didn't seem to mind. “Charming,” she said, “but I have a feeling you aren’t very invested in looks. What is it, darling? And what’s your name?”
Matt’s smile drifted to a soft grin. “I’m Matthew Michaels,” he said, “and I was… wondering,” he said, and he didn't have to feign his nerves as he tapped his foot once and tightened his grip on the cane, “if you would be willing to help me with something.”
She glanced around and lowered her voice. “Depends on what that might be, sweetie.”
He pretended not to notice the steel there. “I was planning on proposing to my boyfriend here tonight.”
She released a soft gasp, both hands going to her mouth. “Oh, my gosh. No way. You’re proposing?”
“That’s… the idea. I wanted to make sure it was okay, seeing as you are the hostess and--”
“Nonono-- that’s wonderful!”
Frank spotted Matt at that moment, and Matt could feel his annoyance when he realized to whom, exactly, Matt was speaking. He began moving toward him, his progress slow due to the crowding.
“Great!” said Matt, forcing himself to release some tension in his shoulders. “I only barely managed to get away from him because I wanted it to be a surprise. If--”
Marilyn grabbed a spoon and tapped it against her glass, the sound resonating throughout the room. Matt froze. Oh, shit.
All conversation stopped. People looked to her curiously, taking notice of the man standing beside her doing his best not to look like a very frightened animal.
This was not the plan.
Frank, being Frank, spotted Matt’s distress and continued moving forward until he was just about at the front of the crowd.
“What the hell is happening?” Micro asked.
Very quietly, and very urgently, Matt muttered, “Do it now.”
“Hello, everyone!” Marilyn chirped. “As it turns out, we’ve got a small surprise before the main event!”
“Oh, God,” Matt whispered to himself.
This was going to have to be public.
He was going to have to give a speech.
A love speech about the fucking Punisher.
Why was this is life? What did he do to deserve this? (The answer was many, many things, but Matt wanted to wallow in self-pity for now.)
Marilyn leaned into Matt, put a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Take it away, Matthew. And here -- I’ll hold your cane for now.”
Frank was… very confused. Which -- fair. Matt would’ve been too, except he would have heard what was about to go down before it went down, thus ruining the effect.
He smiled.
A small alarm buzzed in Marilyn’s ear, and she instantly turned it off.
“I'm in. Just keep doing what you're doing — I'll make sure not to trip any more alarms.”
“Ah, thank you,” Matt said, smiling softly. “Um, Pete -- I’m not entirely sure where…” Matt heard as James made a sound and pushed Frank forward. Frank, hesitantly, stepped up to Matt, gently grazing his arm with his hand.
“Right, here, Matt,” he said. “What’s goin’ on?”
Marilyn positively cooed. Frank’s attention flittered to her briefly before turned back to Matt. He lowered his voice to less than a whisper, “Hey, Red, is there somethi--”
Matt grabbed each of Frank’s hands. “Pete,” he said, his voice surprisingly firm, “I know I’ve been a pain in your ass for as long as you’ve known me,” he began and Marilyn chuckled, “and you’ve hated every single one of my blind jokes for the three years we’ve been dating.”
The people laughed, apparently also starting to catch on as to what was happening. Frank was currently reeling from the fact that Matt claimed to have been dating him for three years, but he still gave a half-smirk at the joke.
“But to be fair,” he said, grinning now, and the words were starting to come more easily, “I’ve tolerated your habit of turning every minor inconvenience into a joke about murder.”
Frank actually barked a laugh at that one, and the laughs of the gathered crowd grew. He froze while his head was turned down and to the side, a full smile now on his face. Then he turned to Matt, saying, “Wait a fucking second--”
“And I’ve even tolerated your extreme fondness of cursing,” he interrupted, tone mock-scolding (the audience ate it up, especially when Frank huffed, still smiling). “But all that aside,” Matt’s grip instinctively tightened, “I have known from the moment we met that I loved you.” And that definitely wasn’t true, but… but he had started caring for Frank more than he’d ever expected to; enough that the claim for love felt real -- was real.
At Matt’s pause, Frank squeezed his hands encouragingly and said, “I love you, too.”
Matt blinked, staring where Frank’s face was because his heart had said ‘truth’ and Frank had known that it would tell Matt that he was telling the truth and--
Micro came through the comm to simply say, “Awww -- how adorable!” and Matt was suddenly focused once more at the situation at hand.
He smirked. “I would hope so,” he said, and the people around him laughed.
But then Frank was actually surprised when Matt dropped to his knee, pulling away one of his hands to reach into his pocket only to draw it back out holding a ring. The excitement was now palpable for anyone to notice -- a few people actually began clapping softly, Marilyn included. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…”
“Damn -- so heartfelt. I’m in actual tears.”
“Will you marry me?”
Frank, as opposed to answering the question, dropped to a knee as well, grabbed Matt’s face in his hands, and kissed him.
Matt barely heard the cheering for the moments Frank’s face was pressed against his. And then when Frank finally did pull back, still close enough for his hot breath to hit Matt’s face, Matt let his mouth break into an easy smile. “I’m still not bad.”
“Please. You propose the moment someone admits to bein’ in love with you. You’re desperate.”
The conversation was only loud enough for the two of them (and Micro, now that Matt thought about it) to hear, but Matt still let his laugh bubble out fully. “Let me give you the goddamn ring,” he said, back to his normal volume.
Frank snorted yet obliged (it fit perfectly because of course it would) and when the two stood up, the round of applause broke out again.
“Was the proposal Lieberman's idea?” Frank asked from the corner of his mouth as he retrieved Matt’s cane and handed it to him.
“More-or-less,” Matt responded, and he expected some statement about killing Micro.
Frank was quiet for a while, accepting the series of “congratulations” with a small smile. Then, to Matt’s surprise, “Remind me to thank him later.”
(Micro told Matt that he was never going to let Frank live that down.)