Twenty Questions, Part 1: Survived By

Insert Standard Disclaimer … Here
Setting: This series begins halfway through the finale. Ben and Laila are about two years old.
About the Series: This is the first in a series of oneshots exploring the twenty years that we didn't get to see and all of the subsequent questions that are brought up. We know that Will and Grace ended up with Vince and Leo, had their children, and didn't talk until they meet up while moving Ben and Laila into college. But Jack and Karen had so much unfinished business – how did they end up living together? What happened to The Badge? Where'd Stan go? Did Karen ever see or hear from the stepkiddies again? I find it almost impossible to believe that she would be so well-adjusted if she didn't have some sort of closure with them. This series of twenty oneshots will attempt to answer some of these questions.

November, 2008

Despite the thin dusting of vivid white snow that blanketed the ground, the sun shown down brilliantly on the flat stretch of land on the Upper West Side. A bitter breeze blew off of the Hudson River, cutting sharply through the layers of clothing, skin, and tissue, finally settling heavily in the bone. Karen clutched her long fur coat tighter around her body, eyes vacant behind her large dark sunglasses. She shifted uncomfortably on the cold metal folding chair and leaned closer to the man beside her, crossing her legs and distantly wishing that she had decided against wearing a dress that day. Karen slipped her arm under Jack's and took his leather-gloved hand in her own.

Behind them, additional rows of folding chairs stood uninhabited. A well-dressed businessman stood behind the last row, briefcase in hand and waiting patiently. Karen glanced up and met the gaze of the handsome African American man sitting across from them alone in his own empty batch of chairs. He seemed stunned and bewildered, but occasionally took the effort to look up and shoot a contemptuous look in Jack's direction.

Karen barely noticed when the fifth and final person there finally stopped speaking and apparently asked her to do something. Karen let Jack pull her preoccupied body to its feet and guide it forward a few steps, his hand laid gently across her back. The fifth man smiled warmly at her, a large book tucked under one arm, and handed Karen a bright red rose. She nodded blankly at him and turned away.

Karen looked down and smiled wryly. Little Liberace was still the most extravagant person she had ever known. She gently placed the vibrant rose down on top of the elaborate white gilded coffin before kissing her fingertips and pressing them to the shiny surface. Jack set his flower down as well and shook hands with the priest, thanking him. He turned then and chased after Karen, who had begun wandering off in a random direction, weaving through the gravestones, heels sinking into the wet ground.

Benji finally stood and approached the coffin. He laid his rose down as well, the sharp wind already stripping one of the other two of its petals. He bent over and picked up Karen's rose, which had been blown onto the ground, and set it gently back onto the lid. He stared down at it for a while before heaving a strong sigh and strolling off in the opposite direction through the deserted cemetery. As he departed, two shivering gravediggers, which had been impatiently waiting for the three lone mourners to depart, approached and got to work.

Jack caught up to Karen and fell into step beside her, hands shoved deeply and nervously into his pockets. Karen inhaled deeply and let it all out in one long breath, tilting her head back and staring up at the sky. Jack was about to open his mouth to say something when he noticed the businessman out of the corner of his eye.

Trying to be as tactful as possible, the man removed his sunglasses and held a fat rectangular envelope out to Jack. "Mr. McFarland. You'll have to come into the office to sign a few papers. Call me whenever you're ready." Jack took the envelope, slipping it into the inside pocket of his wool dress coat as the man turned to Karen. "Ma'am," he greeted with a small nod, which she ignored. He replaced his sunglasses and retreated back through the blinding snowy field.

Jack and Karen continued on their way hand-in-hand. Karen finally glanced up at him, expressionless countenance perfectly set in place from years of practice. Her eyes lingered on his own passive face only for a moment before concentrating again on the path before her.

"He was my friend, Jackie." Karen's voice broke ever-so-slightly, giving away what her sunglasses were hiding.

Jack squeezed her hand. "I know, Kar."