3993/The Five Second Truce

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The Five Second Truce
Date of Scene: 02 March 2018
Location: New York City
Synopsis: Matt and Elektra meet to discuss the files she's been sending him. There is a brief peace before they wander off to hit each other.
Cast of Characters: Daredevil, Elektra




Daredevil has posed:
For the last several days couriers had been bringing Matt files. That wasn't strange, he was a lawyer, that sort of thing happened, but these ones were different. Each one had been about someone Matt knew, someone he put away as Daredevil only to have them get out again and cause more pain. A lot more pain in some cases. Even if he could not smell her scent on them, he'd have known the moments his fingers had begun to sweep the pages (thoughtfully printed in braille) they had been from Elektra.

No one else would go this far to prove a point. Or be this cruel.

Matt had taken it well enough, barring the silent spat they'd had in Josie's in front of one of his old clients, but this last one. This last one spurred him to action. His first instinct was to rush to her construction site and confront her. Though, he'd held off, collected ammo of his own and when he had it, he took her files and his and sent her a text:

Matthew >> Josie's tonight.

It wasn't the most polite invitation, but he knew she'd come all the same.

Elektra has posed:
As soon as she got the text, Elektra knew she'd won. After utter silence, and their terse meeting in front of that strange little man at Josie's, she knew the text could only mean one thing.

She could afford to be smug. He'd been the one to start this particular little war. He could hardly blame her for using the ammunition that he himself had provided.

She didn't return his text. She knew he'd be there. Just as she knew that she would be there.

Later that evening, Elektra found herself at Josie's with a beer in front of her. The usual booth. Their booth. The booth she knew Matt couldn't help himself from sitting at if she weren't around. She'd seen him stiffen as he entered the place often enough to read the signs. Just as she knew he probably sniffed for her scent every time he did, trying to ascertain how long it had been since she'd sat there.

As far as human beings went, Elektra really wasn't the nicest of them. How did it go? All was fair in love and war? Between Matt and Elektra, they were playing at both.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt enters the bar, swinging the cane in front of him, embracing the act, as if he couldn't tell where everything and everyone in this bar was, including /her/. Hell, he didn't need his senses for that, he knew where she'd be when he sent the text, when he got up this morning, since before he even conceived of this meeting. When it came to each other, they were creatures of habit.

Though, in retrospect, Matt had wished he'd chosen better ground, sure, Josie's was familiar, but it was public, which meant he had to keep up the act. That was a disadvantage Elektra could and would exploit if it suited her. He exhales sharply through his nose, all but imagining Stick's voice chiding him, 'for all that fancy education, kid, you're still a total dumbass'. Tonight, his inner-Stick was right. He was a total dumbass. Still, he'd be damned if he was going to leave, he could tell she knew he was there.

He presses on to the bar for a beer of his own, grimacing as Josie points out to him that 'his girlfriend' is in their regular booth.

Matt gives a tight smile, the sort he did when he was pretending to let something rolling off his back, then he heads over to booth, feeling his way into the seat across from Elektra. "Hope I'm in the right booth," he says lightly, playing off his act. "I'd hate to yell at the wrong person by mistake." Another of those tight smiles is given Elektra's way.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra was amused. Oh so amused. He had sent the message, so she knew Matt would come. She also knew exactly how much all of this stuck in her craw. Especially having to deal with her. Worse - having to *contact* her and ask her to come meet with him. Of course he hadn't /quite/ assked but it was close enough. She still considered it a win. And that Josie referred to her as 'his girlfriend'? Oh, that was just extra icing on the cake of it all.

Elektra didn't even have to add anything to that. She just sat back and watched Matt come right to her, knowing how upset he was.

"Oh, Matthew. Like I'd let you pass this booth on by." She'd couch it in terms of playing up to his blindness in public, but they'd both know she was calling him on his stubbornness. Just as she'd made him call for this meeting in the first place. She still had files to spare.

Daredevil has posed:
"You're all heart," Matt says dryly of her promis this whate not to let him pass the booth by. All this this what did stick in his this what craw and as much as he kept a tight lid on his this what feelings they still shone through, at least to her. She knew him too damn well.

"We didn't get to talk last time," he says, his this what hand flexing on the files. "Thought I'd fix that," he says before taking a sip of his this what beer.

When the bottle is this what set down on the table he asks, "So, are you really that bored that, this this what," he pats the files. "Is what you do to pass the time?"

It was a false premis this whate, he knew that while boredom was a big part of it there were deeper reasons at play, but this this what was the opening salvo. It didn't pay to expend all your ammunition in one go.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra lifts her own bottle, taking a small sip as he speaks to her. When she sets the bottle down again, she cups it with both hands, fingertips picking at the edge of the label.

"You make it all sound so tawdry, Matthew. No hello, even? No I missed you?"

She tsks softly before arching a brow at him.

"We both know you started this little game." She takes her cue from him, delving right in. "Let's not call it boredom, but making a point. After all, you claim that what you do it give others a chance to do better. I'm showing you how they spend those chances. And if you think that they're the exception, let me disabuse you of that notion. They're the rule, Matthew. You see, your delightful notions have nowhere to go. The system is overloaded. There is nothing in place to help them take that chance you offer them and do better with it."

She knows she's playing dangerous here. That she might be shooting herself in the foot. But she's willing to aim that gun there in hopes to make her point: that he wants to see her projects succeed.

Better still, she's fairly certain he's not anticipated this path of logic either.

Daredevil has posed:
"Hello Elektra," Matt offers still smiling that tight 'fuck you' smile. "I'd say I'd missed you but what we're talking about is important and I don't want to start us off with lies," he says, aware, behind the mask of moral superiority he wears that had done exactly that: lie.

"/I/ started this game? Ohhh, sweetheart think again, you came to me with your offer of a deal, that's what started this. If you hadn't we'd still be in our little corners without all of this-" he gestures vaguely between them, remembering to get it just a bit wrong on where she is to keep up the act. "-to distract us. I'm sure you have better things to do with your time, I know I have better things to do with mine."

He takes a pull from his beer bottle, like a fighter taking a squirt of water between rounds to keep him going. "And they're not the rule, Elektra," he reaches for the files pulling out from under the ones she sent, three of his own files. Men he stopped, men who'd either turned their life around or found some way to contribute. The meth maker turned fugitive, who after being paroled, studied and become an addiction counsellor; the low-level leg breaker, who turned his life around, moved out of the city and was a father of two and a deacon at his church, the murderer, who while still serving his sentence saved his nephew's life by donating his bone marrow.

Matt had heard what'd she'd said about opportunities and knew where she was going with this, he hadn't expected it, and that hesitation says so, but all the same like in the courthouse he takes the offensive. "Just because you cherry picked a few cases doesn't mean what I do is wrong, Elektra, and those people didn't deserve a chance," he says.

Elektra has posed:
There's a soft laugh from Elektra as Matt insists upon pointing out she came to him with the deal initially. "So that's how we're going to play this, then. Delightful."

Her bottle is lifted in small salute, but she doesn't drink from it. "Hello, Matthew. I'd say I missed you but I'd hate to give the impression I lie awake at nights thinking about you." Which is a lie, even though it's hard to tell with her. She's just too good at schooling her reactions for even his senses to pick up all of her stories. This one, though, he wouldn't even need that for. She never slept well at the best of times. Whether by missinng him, or by plotting, one Matt Murdock occupied many of the hours she was supposed to be sleeping.

The files he lays on the table earn an arch of brow. "I see you found them. You didn't think I hadn't looked for those, too, did you? Turns out I wasn't lying when I said I was looking for people to drag out of the gutter to hire for my other project. So you see, Matthew, your little counterstrike was, well, weak. Then again, you never did figure out how to fight fire with fire. It's why you always lose."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt's smile takes on a cocky aspect as he says, "I guess so," before having another sip of his beer.

The lie is met with a far from convinced "Uh-huh," he says around his beer as he holds it near his lips a moment as if considering another sip. In the end he thinks better of it and the bottle is put down for now. He knew how she slept. That she planned, and, he liked to think, deep down some of that insomnia was her conscience struggling to get to the fore. He doesn't say that of course, he'd made that mistake in the past, which means it's fairly easy to guess what he might be thinking now.

That she'd knew about these people didn't surprise her, Elektra might be spoiled but she wasn't lazy, not when she put her mind to it, but that she'd reached out to them already for her project was news to him. He flinched, wishing he'd known coming into this, but then he was playing with a disadvantage, he had to make do with what he could find out from his shoestring law firm Elektra, had considerably more resources and less scruples about how she used them. Still, her move had come like a body blow, and it left him reeling, but he had another punch to throw though. He hesitates, but ultimately pulls out a folder, a lawyer from Metropolis, one of the few kills of hers he could find anything about. None of it would hold up in court but that wasn't the purpose. The man had been dirty, with a closet full of perversions besides, but he'd had family, a wife who killed herself, and a son who'd become a drunk. He slides the file over saying, "I don't know, I think I do alright with what I've got."

Elektra has posed:
Elektra knows exactly what he's thinking. It's a whole other side to this little discussion. The fight behind the fight. The lies they both told themselves. The fairy tales they used to rock themselves to sleep at night with.

But his showing her that particular file - a kill of hers - unexpected. And a distinctly rather non-Matt move. So much so that it draws a chill laugh from her.

"Oh, Brava, Matthew. So you actually came to this fight prepared." She idly flips through the file, reading it. When she's done, she closes it and thrusts it back at him. "So. I'm supposed to cry a river now? See the error of my ways? Youthink none of those things wouldn't have happened if he'd been allowed to live?"

She shakes her head. "He'd have carried on as he did. His wife would have been more miserable each day. She wouldn't have left him. And when he was finally put away for his perversions, she'd have been outcast for staying with him despite them. His son was never going to recover from that childhood. You think they didn't know what he did? Do you honestly think those secrets don't come out behind the closed doors of a home?"

She tsks softly.

"I'll grant you didn't have the best upbringing, and spent time in an orphanage, but you're a fool if you think he was a model citizen behind closed doors. The only mistake I made was not doing it sooner."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt could see he'd at least surprised her with the file, even if it cost him something to read it himself. He was disadvantaged here too. He bore at least part of the guilt for her kills, he didn't do anything to stop her. He knew what she was, what she did and yet, when it came to her his rules didn't apply. He begins to wonder if that was at the heart of his stubbornness when it came to her efforts to change, guilt, but rather than think on it, he drowns that notion with the rest of his beer.

"Josie, another," he calls to the bartender.

As he waits he listens, she definitely believed what she was saying, her heart told him that much, "We won't know that now will we?" he answers, it was a little glib perhaps but no less true for being so.

Elektra has posed:
"Well, we both know how things could have been different. Really, Matthew, I know what I've done. I suppose there would be an object lesson, now, wouldn't it? All the reasons you should have stopped me. One singular file to prove my point."

She shrugs.

"But then again, we've established I'm the one person you refuse to put any faith in. I merely live up to your expectations on a daily basis. You could say I'm the irony in that moral code of yours."

Daredevil has posed:
Josie brings the beer over with a curt, "Next time, get your own," before she wanders back over to the bar.

Matt smiles bemusedly, happy for a brief distraction from the weighty topics before diving back in. His attention goes to her heart as begins to speak. "I'll grant you, I may have underestimated your devotion to doing some good with all your money and time. I see that now, but your charity wasn't the issue, Elektra, it never was, you could take those piles of money of yours and burn them for all I care. What matters is that," he says tapping the file on her kill. "That's the only expectation that counts. The rest is just bullshit."

Elektra has posed:
"Bullshit?" Elektra sits back, beer in hand. "Oh, do tell, Matthew. What is bullshit? That I don't stop where you do? You're as responsible for every death that happened at the hands of anyone you set free as I am for any that fell to my hands. Don't pretend you're any better. The only difference between the two of us is that I'm not lying to myself about it."

Daredevil has posed:
"And where does the responsibility end Elektra?" Matt asks jaw tightening. "If I'm responsible for all the killing done by the people I let live, then what about a driver who swerved out of the way of hitting one of them? Are the deaths on his head too? The doctor who saves their life in surgery? Their parents for giving birth to them? At the end of the day, in the moment, we have to make a choice to kill or not to kill." He takes his new beer and has a sip before finishing with. "I can live with my choice in those moments, the problem is, so can you."

Of course, she knows him too well for any of that to believed, that he could brush off that guilt so easily. All the sophistry in the world wasn't going to stop the guilt from sticking, even a little bit. After all, if it did, then he wouldn't be here.

Elektra has posed:
Calmly, Elektra enjoys a swallow of her beer. "Then why are you here, Matthew? Why go to the bother of finding those other examples? Why bother bringing a file that has my name written all over it? If you can live with your choices, then Why Are You Here?"

She ennunciates each of those last words carefully. Punctuating them in her sentence. Then waits, as she knows all he has left here are lies. Or so she thinks.

Daredevil has posed:
Backed into the corner Matt ducks the question and swings back with the only thing he has: the truth. "Why are you here, Elektra?" he taps the files. "Why go through all this? Okay, maybe I am full of shit? But what's it to you?" he asks.

He considers her then, head canted. "What do you think? You'll make your point and suddenly I'll be okay with what you do? I doesn't work that way, Elektra. I may be responsible for those deaths, and that's on my soul, but at least I tried to stop them, you don't even bother." The accusation hangs for a moment, there was more he wanted to say, but doesn't, that he wanted her to bother even if it was just for him, but he couldn't. He words had cut him and he wasn't willing to open himself up to more wounds.

Elektra has posed:
"Why am I here?" Elektra's gaze narrows down upon Matt. "Why indeed."

A long draw is taken from her beer, the bottle set down upon the table in front of her. "You think you know so much about me and what I do. Or why I do it." She pauses, shaking her head. "The truth is, you don't. You have this picture of me in your mind and it really wouldn't matter what I said or did at this point. You already imagine me off doing the worst. You can't, even for a moment, in that tiny little black and white world of yours, imagine how I might be trying my best to do differently in the only way I know how."

It's clear by her posture that she's preparing to go.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt senses the shift of posture telling him she's about to leave. Part of him told him it was for the best, the other part however hijacked his mouth.

"Then tell me what you do," he says firmly, still angry, but the request is one she could tell was genuine if she was in a mood to hear it. "Help me imagine," he says as he reaches out for her arm.

Elektra has posed:
Her arm remains where his hand might touch upon it, allowing him to still her retreat from the place. And for a moment she considers if she will let that touch be enough to stop her leaving, or if she will shrug it off like so many other things she has shrugged, and leave him, as they are always leaving one another, behind and hurt. For she has no doubt she hurts him. It's the only weapon she has left against what he does to her: to hurt him in kind, even as she knows it leaves her bleeding too.

Slowly she settles, drawing back into the booth seat. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she says, even though she knows as soon as the words leave her mouth that they are more antagonistic than she means them to be.

It gives her pause.

"I'm sorry. You did not deserve that."

And for a moment her features soften, allowing a glimpse into the other she might be. What she could have been if her past were not so littered with all the manipulations and misfortunes it has been.

"I'm trying, Matthew. I don't know if I can be what you expect. I only have so many gestures to me, and you don't even allow those. I can't stop all the harm, but I can mitigate it. Why can't that be enough for you? Why can't you accept the deaths I don't cause? The outreach I am able to give? The only option you seem to be giving me is turning myself in. And what then?"

It's on her lips to tell him. To spill the gods forsaken truth of what she's become. The why of the matter. How she's taken The Hand and made it into her Fist - because she can't stop them. She can't destory them. All she can do is make it a gentler blow. To steer them against enemies that truly deserve their attention. Even if sometimes it means looking the other way so that she remains who she is to them. Much as he plays his part with the glasses and cane in front of others that he might be the lawyer they trust, and not the vigilante they fear. So that he can do the most good he can.

And yes. She recognizes that, that he does good. More than she might. But she'd been broken long before he was.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt's grip on her arm is gentle, almost tentative, all to easy to break from if she wanted to. He felt exposed in doing it, showing signs that their usual way of doing things, hacking at each other with hiltless swords, causing them both to bleed wasn't the only way. That he hurt as much she did after these encounters.

Her terse reply is enough to get him to let go and withdraw the olive branch, or at least until she apologizes.

Then it's his turn to swing the blade. "You're right, I didn't," he says, before that too is taken back. His eyes close, and his lips twist in a pained expression at his realization. "And you didn't deserve that, I'm sorry."

He opens his eyes again, listening to her words, considering them. He'd refused to believe in her projects because he didn't understand them, but today, in their ritual bloodletting she'd hacked the scales off his eyes, and he could see that she was trying. He didn't know what to do with that. It was foreign to him, to see Elektra as trying to be better rather than the spoiled wild-child.

He'd liked the spoiled wild-child more than he could admit, but it warmed his heart to see the changes. He also could sense her apprehension, the tension in her as she thought about things she didn't put words to.

"There's more going on, isn't there?" he asks, it isn't an accusation, his words are tinged with worry. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to or if you can't," he says before taking a moment to consider what he was going to say next. "And I'll sign the contract."

Elektra has posed:
His reply puts the mask back on her face. It's a reaction she's not fast enough to stop, even though she wants to. Wants to hide what he's done. How he's hurt her. His apology bringing her back from the brink of that, but not so much that she meets his eyes or admits the things she almost spilled.

Reaaching up, she rubs fingertips along her temples. "There's always more, Matt. I've been trying to tell you all along. Only you always walk in the streetlight, never seeing that behind you is a shadow, all the while cursing me for walking in front of you and casting one where you step."

She knows the words will cut, only she's said them before she can stop herself. And what else would she say? She can't imagine any world where he'd understand what she's done with regards to The Hand. It would just be another argument in their pile of arguments. Just another weapon they'd use to wound one another.

She was tired of this. So very tired.

Tired enough that she misses his words. Misses that small life preserver thrown between them. The thing she'd have gloated about not half an hour ago when this conversation started.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt lets in the sensations that are Elektra and nothing else, drinking in her conflict, her concerns, the things that keep her from putting words to her troubles. He hears the hand at her temple, the sound of her fingers on her skin, hear the muscles tightening.

He wanted to soothe it, to make things better for her, despite all she did but her words disabuse him of the notion. They were right back to where they always were. He sighs, his own exhaustion coming through in the sound, fingers working the bridge of his nose. Maybe this was hopeless. He didn't know, he just wanted to let the torture stop, even for a little while. Still, part of him, couldn't let a punch go unanswered and he says, "So, that's a no on me accepting your contract? I guess that's fair," he says unable to hide his bitterness at the snub. He begins to rise from his seat, going through the motions of groping for his files and cane.

Elektra has posed:
He goes to rise, and she offers a soft sigh of apology. "I'm sorry, Matt. Sometimes it seems all we do it hurt one another."

I wanted to believe we could be different, she wants to say. I remember how things were until...

Her thoughts were stilled by words she'd missed the first time, her hands dropping away from her temples. "I beg your pardon? Accept my contract?"

If he'd expected her to gloat, he would be sorely disappointed. And it might just be clear to him by her puzzled response that she'd not heard him the first time.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt offers Elektra an apologetic smile. "It's okay, guess it's sort of habit now," he offers by way of excuse for the both of them. "Not sure how we managed to avoid it in the past."

The smile becomes a touch brighter. "Those were good times," he offers as a renewed olive branch.

There the smile is a bit broader still and good deal more smug when the understanding comes she hadn't heard him. Or at least, the words hadn't sunk in when he agreed to sign the damn contracts. He leans heavy on his cane. "Yes, I said I'd sign. You're trying Elektra, it's time I started recognizing that."

Elektra has posed:
"They were good times, weren't they?" Elektra answers softly, returning the branch without malice. "Sometimes I wish we could throw all this away and run off. Pretend our lives here didn't matter."

She sighs deeply.

"I think we wanted it too much in the past to let ourselves think. Or we were greater fools." There's a small shrug from the woman. "I won't lie. You were, and remain, the best I've had Matt. Sometimes I wish it were enough." So much regret in her voice now. "And thank-you for signing the contracts. I promise to do the best to keep my life away from that. I can't make up for what I am, but I can make small good happen."

She offers a smile that isn't her usual bored, debutante or socialite driven thing. It's just a smile. Just Elektra as she might have been had life not happened, offering Matt Murdock a smile, because she's suddenly remembered why she always loved him.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt nods, touching Elektra's arm fondly. "They were," he says of those times, before that boyish, cocky, Matt Murdock smile of his crosses his lips. "Well not sure we can run off, but if we wanted to relive old times we can steal a car again." The offer is a tease, but at the same time he's tempted. Life had been hard lately, full of rules and crises of conscience it would be nice to forget about all that for awhile.

Matt nods. "Probably the last one," he says of them being fools. Though it's kindly met. "You too," he says. "You're sort of hard to forget." He nods then about the contracts. "It was a good offer, always was, just needed to understand that." And he did, he could work on these cases and use that money with a clean conscience, and hope that in some small way the work he did would in some way help save Elektra's soul.

Smiles themselves were hard to perceive directly in the gestalt impressions of his senses, but he could, tell she was smiling and that there was feeling behind it. Her skin warmed and that oh-so controlled heartbeat of hers changed pace. Hesitating just a second to let her deny him he raises his hand, his expression questioning a request to feel her face. If assent is given he does so, gently, tracing the lines of her lips with a thumb, his own lips curved into a smile of his own.

Elektra has posed:
"Borrow, Matt. We would *borrow* a car." her lips purse over a slight impishness that rises in her eyes. "We just wouldn't ask permission."

It's a small, stolen moment in the darkness of them. One that leaves her suddenly light and open. Such that when his thumb meets her lips to trace them, she allows it. Closing her eyes and luxuriating in the feel of it, parting them at the last moment to lick her lips, catching the bare tip of his thumb with her tongue before drawing away, breaking contact.

"You know, I'm a little sad. With you signing the contracts, there's really no reason left for any of this." This being them meeting. She carries no illusions that they've any foundation left to build a relationship.

Daredevil has posed:
"Right, how could I forget," Matt observes still grinning. He almost brings up that this also applied to houses back then but then that leads to dark places that he didn't want to be dwell in right now.

Whatever darkness lingers of those thoughts is banished by the feel of her lips under his thumb and the sudden surprise of that lick. He grins all the broader for it, pulling his hand away. "You're evil," he teases, enjoying the lightness of the moment.

When the contracts are brought up, he says, "Well, I haven't signed yet, could still burn them," he offers. "To give us a reason to keep fighting. Besides, even if I do sign them you owe me some intel," he says meaning the data about the Index. "Assuming the deal is still good."

Elektra has posed:
Her laugh is soft and throaty. "Only evil enough," she admits. Adding, "If you didn't sign, I would be forced to increase the pressure of my tactics. Perhaps add dropping in unexpectedly."

Teasing as she says it. Much on the lines of his suggesting they steal a car. Thoughts that lead to other thoughts that lead to other thoughts. Things that if they don't allow reality to break in upon might allow them to connect for small moments.

He remembers, though, their deal. And that, too, she was prepared for, even if she didn't truly imagine he would sign.

She should, she knows, make him sign. Make the ink dry upon the papers and the lawyers register the charity in triplicate before she does what she does next, her fingers fumbling in a pocket and pulling out thhe single flash drive therein, placing it upon the table between them.

"You're not on them. I've known since the day before I started sending you the files. I know what I said to you, but the fact of the matter is, I lied. You were never in any danger."

She expects an explosion. An end. She expects he'll take the flashdrive, and in anger go forth and refuse to sign the contracts.

In reality, she doesn't care anymore. She'd won. He'd agreed, in principle, to sign. What was on that flashdrive had never been the issue. If it had, she wouldn't have been protecting him, or the people he cared about, since even before she'd got her hands on the Index Files.

And perhaps for the first time in her life, the winning didn't matter anymore.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt smiles, reaching over to the table to grab his second beer and down it while he stands. They weren't going to go 'borrow' cars he wasn't that far gone but he would enjoy his beer not just to buy time or cover emotions but because he wanted the beer. Finished, he put it back on the table observing to Elektra, "You're really not making a case for me to sign," he says of her visiting a thought that was much more appealing without the mental torture.

Matt considers a moment then says what comes next, "You could stop by with the papers being signed, you know?" he offers giving her another of those cocky Matt Murdock smiles.

The smile doesn't last long, when he can make out the shape of the flashdrive it wilts into a frown even as he takes the drive from her. His carelessness about keeping up his act a sign of his annoyance. "Why?" he asks, as the drive is slipped into his pocket. "Why put me through it?" he hasn't exploded yet but his voice is tight and controlled, meaning he's keeping an explosion in check.

Elektra has posed:
"You said no," Elektra says simply. Believing that whatever cease fire they'd entered into was coing fast to a close. Still, her words are soft, and without the biting edge of cutting wounds. "You didn't even give my idea a chance before you discarded it. Your no wasn't about me, or the idea, it was about how Matt Murdock might get his precious name sullied."

She shrugs, and downs the remainder of her single beer.

"You came to me and gave me a way. I took it. It was as simple as that."

She moves to leave the table, then pauses.

"Unless you mean why did I get you the information?" Another of those easy shrugs, this time accompanied by a wry smile. "You never understood me, Matt. From the moment I realized you might be in danger, I've had eyes on you. Your friends. The very people you were trying to manipulate me with. I might be a killer, but I was never cold hearted."

Now she rises. "Send me the contracts. Don't send me the contracts. It's really your choice now."

Daredevil has posed:
For a single precious moment their war had ended and then they stumbled on into the next one. "Elektra, it was never about my name it was about leverage, about the day this deal starts to come with conditions. I didn't trust you not to try to use this against me. But just now, I was willing to believe it was on the level."

He rubs the bridge of his nose again, while she downs the beer, though the pause makes him no less angry. "Simple as-" he cuts himself off, but his body grows rigid, and he teeth grind. He wanted to scream at her and ask what she thought it was like to have his work thrown back in their face like that. To see the misery he'd failed to stop, but of course she knew that's why she did it. He wanted to lash out, move from fighting with words to fighting with fists but he was all too aware of how many people were watching them right now. Everyone loved a good (former) lover's spat. Stiill, there is a combative set to his jaw and a shift in his posture that tells the tale.

"I know why you got the information," he says bluntly, before the rest of what she says only deepens his anger. "You're watching us?" he says unsure if he's angry that she was watching or he didn't sense the people she'd sent to do it. "Well you can stop watching, Elektra, I can take care of my own friends."

"Fine," he says about the contracts in the most non-committal way possible. He reaches for the files to take them with him, leaving her a chance to depart.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra stops, and gives him a cold regard. "Are you quite certain you want me to take away my eyes, Matt? You came to me afraid for your name. Afraid for your friends. Just what did you think I was going to do? And what of that has changed?"

She shakes her head and gives him a cold look.

"Go to hell, you hypocrit. It was well enough when you thought your precious name might be plastered all over, and now that you know it's safe?" Her words are a near hiss of ice now. "You couldn't take care of them Matt, or you wouldn't have come to me. That or you're a liar of the highest degree, coming to me to manipulate me back into your life with a sob story about needing to protect them. When you figure out which, let me know."

Moving past him, she heads towards the door.

Daredevil has posed:
Elektra's words make a degree of sense, at least they do if you know how she thinks, but still he answers with a cold, "Yes. I want them gone."

The rest is met with a mask of stone, except where his jaw twitched and his teeth ground. When she moves to leave, his cane snaps into place to block her path. "There's no way you talk like that to me and just walk away," he says, the challenge clear in his tone.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra is stopped by the cane snapped in front of her. Her steps paused as she inhales, tongue running over her front teeth inside closed lips as she works to get a tight control on her anger.

She'd been good enough when he was worried. But now? Now that he knew he was safe? That he'd never been in any danger? Now that he didn't need to manipulate her into doing what he wanted?

Her words are daggers of ice, "Let me go, Matthew. Before you say or do something you'll regret."

No words for whether or not she'll drop the surveillance she has on him and the others as she patiently waits for him to remove the obstacle to her leaving. As though she couldn't merely push it aside herself. It's the principle of the thing, though.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt's expression is a mockery of a grin, the same barely contained anger showing in it as it showed in her inhales and tongue run over her teeth. It's the sort of grin his foes see in alleyways when they meet the Daredevil.

"Oh, I think we're already at the regret stage," he says before lowering the cane. "But if you want to walk away, be my guest," he says. There was challenge in those words too.

Elektra has posed:
"This is neither the time, nor the place, Matthew," she says to him in carefully controlled tones that nevertheless convey the sense of a snarl of rage. Barely a blip to her heartrate, though. Her breathing even as ever. Only the slight tensings of her muscles really betray her.

Still, she doesn't leave. Not immediately at least.

Daredevil has posed:
As always Elektra's control is impressive. Those cold tones spoke of the anger she but didn't show. Matt too seemed composed, his mood betrayed only by the set of his shoulders, the way he had rocked forward to the balls of his feet like he was ready to fight. "Then say when and where," he says quietly.

Elektra has posed:
"You know where." It's not a question. He knows where. Where it had all began the last time. "As to when? No time like the present. Unless you've suddenly remembered another act of hypocrisy you need to engage in?"

Her smile for him is dead thing that doesn't even attempt to reach her eyes or convey reality. It's merely the gesture one gives when handing out a 'fuck-you' of this magnitude.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt nods to the choice of place, and says, with a tight, bitter, smile. "No, my schedule is clear of hypocrisy for the day.

The nuance of the smile is lost on him but her words conveyed the sentiment. "Alright then, let's go." He says stepping away from the booth to pay the tab and heading to the door.

Elektra has posed:
It's a measure of her anger with him that she lets him pay the bill. Elektra walking to the door without looking back or stopping for him. He knows where to go and how to get there without her telling him or escorting him along the way. For all she cares he can get hit by a truck along the way (liar, Elektra). Or so she tells herself.

By the time he exits Josie's, she's gone. There's barely the remnant of her scent to let him know that she'd paused here and considered whether or not to wait for him. With the winds that are rising, her scene will be gone in short moments. Had he tarried any longer, he'd have missed her lingering on the air.