3996/Into the Ring

Into the Ring
Date of Scene:	02 March 2018
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Matt and Elektra take their discussion from their booth at Josie's to the ring at Fogwell, the expected doesn't happen.
Cast of Characters:	Daredevil, Elektra

---

Daredevil has posed:
Things had changed since the last time Matt and Elektra had come to Fogwell's Gym together. For one thing Matt had a key now, so there was no need to break the glass, and well, other than at and the fact that he and Elektra had come here to fight each other in earnest, the place was virtually the same. The equipment was in the same places, it still stunk of sweat and hard rubber mats, and of course in the center of it all was the ring.

Matt walks inside, tossing his cane into an umbrella stand by the door and taking off his shades, before he got too far into the building he let his fingers drag over an old poster just inside the door, one that proclaimed the match between Battling Jack Murdock and Crusher Creel.

His Dad's last fight.

The silent gesture of memorial completed he walks further into the gym, the tie is removed, his jacket, both are tossed on a bench, then he unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt. Reaching the wring, he jumps up swiftly and leaping over the ropes, to land inside the ring. He bounces in place there, rolling his shoulders and neck while he waits for Elektra.

Elektra has posed:
She was reasonably sure she hadn't been followed, though there was always the slight chance she had been. Elektra hadn't wanted anyone from The Hand to see her engage in this. This was personal. She'd taken a roundabout way there, backtracking to cover her trail, so that by the time she arrived he'd already unlocked the door and let himself in.

"A key?"

That's how she greeted him, though she knew that he'd have had scent of her long before her words reached him. That he was already in the ring was not a surprise. There were so many steps of their initial time here that they could skip. Like the pretending that neither knew what they were doing.

Both she and Matt were aware that the other was deadly. They no longer needed to play at the farce they had before. Though she suspected the dance they'd do tonight would end differently.

She told herself that she didn't care. She was angry. So very angry with him. Right this moment, all Elektra could think was hurting him the way he'd hurt her. Punctuating her statements in a visceral way now that all other avenues had failed.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt cocks his head to the side at the question. "Grown up since last time," he replies before he stops his bouncing to tug off his Oxfords and toss them over in the direction of his coat and tie. Dress shoes weren't exactly great for this sort of thing.

What this thing was still unsure, to him the walk over had thawed the cold anger inside of him somewhat, but he still wanted to put Elektra on her shapely but spoiled ass. What happened from there, well, he didn't want to think about that right now. It would throw his focus off the fight.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra is still angry. Exquisitely so. But unlike Matt, it only serves to focus her edge. "Not nearly enough," she spits back at him about his growing up since last time. "As I recall, I threw the first swing last time."

She's climbed into the ring. Her own shoes left on the floor below. Her outer clothing discarded as is anything else that might inhibit her movement. Then again, she's usually dressed to kill.. literally. It makes her life simpler that way.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt gives another of those tight 'fuck off' smiles, "Aww, I could say the same thing," he taunts. As for the first swing, he doesn't comment on that.

Matt's fighting garb is pretty much his suit pants and a slim fit dress shirt, but he'd done more with less. When Elektra enters the ring, Matt closes the distance in heartbeat and throws a right hook at her jaw.

"Guess that makes us even," he says of first swings.

Elektra has posed:
That tight smile is met with something akin to a smug one of her own. Not all the blows being thrown were physical, though there would be those too. She knew she'd scored a point with him by that smile of his.

Elektra doesn't even try to duck the first swing, though she does more to block it, arm coming up such that forearm stops the strike before it even comes close to hitting her, her other fist moving with a flash of motion to return a counter-strike to him, head and body in motion, moving to stay away from any potential retaliation.

"Weak and off-center. You're not even trying," she complains.

Daredevil has posed:
The taunt had hit it's mark for sure, but he carried on. "Just getting warmed up," Matt replies, as his fist hits her block, then leaning back out of range of her counter. He was always annoyingly agile for his size, with quick hands, but tonight it was his feet Elektra had to worry about. A push kick follows the dodge aimed to drive her back against the ropes, then Matt is leaping, twisting in the air with a hook kick to slap across her face.

Elektra has posed:
She's expecting the push back against the ropes. It's precisely what she would have done, and the move puts a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Better," she comments even as he's kicking out at her from the side, a blow she's willing to take in order to grab his leg between both hands, turning as she does so and moving to throw him. Seeking to come in at him from that in a flurry of foot moves forcing him to stay off balance, on the ground, and on the move.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt doesn't fight the throw, he goes with it, twisting sharply in the air to land on his feet. "Not bad," he remarks, his lips were curled into a dangerous grin, yes, he was angry, and wanted to strike back at Elektra for everything she'd done to him but he was also enjoying this. Like back at Josie's when he thought about stealing a car, the freedom of it appealed. Here there was no mask.

Throws a punch.

No need to act blind.

A kick follows.

No rules but the ones they set.

He ducks low to sweep at her legs.

That had always been Elektra's appeal, beyond her own merits, she promised him freedom from all of it. All of the things that weighed him down and made him struggle against the devil in him. He knew the struggle was what defined him, what made him stronger, a hero in some people's eyes, but yet, right now? He was willing to let go of all of it and let himself live free in the moment.

He carries on with the fight and doesn't hold back.

Elektra has posed:
As much as Elektra was angry with him, she also gloried in this. This was how they should always meet. As equals on a playing field where words weren't used to wound, and fists could say volumes.

His punch is blocked - barely. A sliver over and he'd have made full contact. Her surprise, and respect, is registered in the widening of her eyes, and the barest hint of a nod from the woman.

The leg sweep, though - that was classic. She was ready for it, doing an easy flip over it and past him, turning as she landed to not only face his back, but force him to turn as well.

Like Matt, she wasn't holding back. And from here on in, blows were meant to hit. Or, as it also happens, made to be taken.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt nods back when Elektra blocks that punch, sitll, he throws another just for good measure before carrying on with the rest of his combo. That flip though? Unexpected, and there is just the slightest of smiles on his lips These were the moments where they were at the best, racing heartbeats, fists and feet flying. It was a dance for them, one that lead to bruises and blood more often than not, but a dance they both enjoyed.

Elektra at his back, Matt rolls forward then comes up turning, hands lifted and smile still in evidence as he expects Elektra to really come for him now.

Elektra has posed:
"Nice," Elektra drawls at him, circling some, light on her feet. His roll wasn't what she thought he'd counter with. But really, she should have expected it. He wasn't going to engage in close quarters without assessing it first.

Where he expects her to come at him, she holds, balancing her weight on the balls of her feet in readiness.

"Well. You wanted this. Do it."

Suddenly aware that things had shifted inside herself. That the anger, while still there, wasn't a raging blaze anymore, but a slow heat. The same slow heat she'd been holding for long enough now that it wasn't anything to get a rise from her. Somewhere this had become like old times. And she wasn't certain what to make of that.

Something in her stance falters. Only for a millisecond. But that hesitation is there. He might notice it.

Daredevil has posed:
"Old times. Yes, that's what this reminded him of, and it wasn't just the familiar surroundings or that they were dancing their oldest dance together. It felt the same, free, right. Like the rest of his life could just go hang. "Learned a few things since last time," he quips, then when she doesn't close. He lifts an arm and mimes sniffing his pit. "Forgot to shower?" he asks. It was an opening but one he was aware of.

The taunt makes him grin again, sensing her off balance, he comes in switftly, a high punch to get her attention going that way and follow up with a another sweep to take her down.

Elektra has posed:
"Looks like," Elektra murmurs when he says it's just like old times. The sniffing of his pits gets a soft laugh. Now she's ready for him again. Grin and all.

The flurry of his attack is met, but not countered as much as she blocks him up top, bbeing backed up with the speed and intensity of his blows. She fails to evade the sweep, going down on the mat. Hard.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt grins all the wider at her soft laugh, it was like hearing an favourite song after a long time gone without. Come on, he tells himself. Remember the files. He doesn't care right now. Or about much else. When the sweep lands, he follows her down to the mats. His fist is raised to strike and if this was on the streets against just about anyone else, this would be the part where he let the devil out and pummelled them.

Though, there was no devil inside of him right now, just one on her back infront of him. "You know there's no point taking a dive if no one's betting on the fight?" he grins at her, even as he keeps the fist raised, and the tension of the fight still humming between them.

Elektra has posed:
There's that laugh again, soft and low. Almost a purr of a sound.

"You always did know the right things to say."

"Just as you knew this..." She gets leverage and flips him so that he's on the ground and she's straddling him. "...was coming."

Elektra leans and grabs his wrists with her hands, her fingers a slender ring around each.

"What was this about taking a dive?"

Daredevil has posed:
If Matt was being honest with himself, he knew all of this was coming. It's why he'd come down to the ground in the first place. Though as was becoming the theme for the evening, he didn't care.

He doesn't fight as she flips him onto his back, and then as he feels her hands encircle his wrists, he grins, "So, you're saying you didn't take a dive? That this was all a trap?"

He twists his hips and rolls with her so he's on top of her. "Guess I turned that around didn't I?" he his grin turned on her under his sightless eyes.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra is easily flipped. It's really the intermediate stage now. Either they break and go back to hitting one another, or they..

It was really the 'or they' that neither she nor Matt seemed willing to commit to. To leave. To kiss. To..

"I never take dives," Elektra murmurs. And she didn't. Not in any aspect of her life. Calculated decisions - all the time. But never dives. "You didn't hit me."

The statement is mere musing. For all the anger that was spent getting here, it didn't seem present still.

"What are we doing, Matt?"

The calm blue of her gaze searches the sightless brown of his. He's close enough now that she doesn't need his senses to smell him. The male of him. The slight acrid note of the anger of him mingled with the musk of his sweat. They both knew nothing good could come of this. So why were they doing this?

Daredevil has posed:
It was a horrible idea. One driven by anger and need, but here they were, face to face, bodies pressed together, their scents mingling, the sound of her heart in his ears. Maybe...

Matt cocks his head when she tells him he didn't hit her. "Luck of the draw," he says. "I was trying to."

Though the anger had gone, there was no doubt of that. Oh, he was sure tomorrow he'd still be angry about the files, but right now, he could let it go. Her question gives him pause. What were they doing? They weren't fighting anymore and without the anger to push them over the edge to other things would they be able to...

He takes in the whole of her through his senses, the slow rhythm of her heart, gentle rasp of her breath the exotic smell of whatever expensive scent was mingling with her sweat. He breaks a hand free of her grip, to caress her face, taking it in with the rest, his calloused hands tracing the lines of the face he'd never seen but often imagined.

"This," he answers her finally as he cups her face and finally kisses her.

Elektra has posed:
"Liar," she breathes softly at his 'luck of the draw' comment. "You've tried harder for less."

But she doesn't want to rile him up, or taunt him. Not really. Now that they're here, anger spent, and dwelling in the soft silence left behind it, waiting for something to give, she only wants to remain in this space. For as much as she knows he won't bend, for as much as she knows that she can't bend either, not without compromising things that have moved past her now and grown too large for her to even begin imagining trying, she wants to linger here for as long as she can. To remember, how it was. How it might have been. However painful that might be in the end.

His fingers. She remembers those. Every last callous is familiar to her. That his hands remember her face.. her eyes close, and she leans into that caress. Opening her eyes only as he says 'this' and leans in for that kiss.

That singular, impossible kiss. Something they're both likely to regret later, but for now she doesn't care.

Daredevil has posed:
There's is a tight smile when she calls him a liar. It was true, but still. He doesn't push the point however, he's enjoying the moment too much. A chance to remember easier times before Daredevil, before Neslon and Murdock, before he knew what Elektra was, what she'd done.

Those last thoughts threaten to tug him back to reality so he buries them under the feel of her face beneath his fingers how her pulse quickens at his touch growing even faster as he claims her lips in that kiss. He'd regret this later, he knew that much, but right now he didn't care. Right, now, later felt like it was a long way off.

Elektra has posed:
That kiss. That impossible kiss.
5rTo say she'd dreamt of such a thing wouldn't be far off.

In the first days after their breakup she'd remembered such a thing with longing almost great enough to go back and offer to try it his way. She couldn't remember what it was that had prevented her from doing so - Elektra could even remember moments where she'd gotten as far as outside his brownstone - but something had always kept her from completely giving in. Pride? Anger? The fact that somewhere inside she knew this would be an argument they'd dance around forever without resolution?

The fact that it frightened her that someone had gotten so far underneath her defenses...

In retrospect it didn't really matter. They lived in too different worlds. Or so she'd convinced herself. But this? Oh, Elektra remembered this. Her lips hungry beneath his; her hands balled into the fabric of his shirt. Every ounce of willpower she had thrown into *not* going further than that. Not opening wounds they'd so carefully left to heal. For all the daggers they'd thrown at one another, this had been out of bounds. She wasn't sure either of them could weather it again.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt had needed this, to just be lost in the moment again. So much of his life had been about control, keeping an iron grip on himself to keep his secret or to keep from crossing the line. Elektra knew his secret, knew him, he didn't have to play those games with her, or hold onto that control.

When his kiss is met with hungry lips he deepens it, clinging to her as she clings to him. It was a desperate needful moment. Yet, he could feel her holding on, not giving in to herself. He parts from the kiss, his breath coming heavy and slow, he finds himself mirroring her words, "What are we doing, Elektra?" he brushes his fingers gently along the line of her jaw. The question, wasn't one of doubt, but of choice, he was letting her choose the path.

Elektra has posed:
Damn him. Damn him to hell and back. If she even believed in such a place. He was the one with the Catholic upbringing and thhe beliefs mired in tradition and superstition. Although she supposed it could be argued that there was some of that to the martial arts she had learned. The way of a ninja certainly could be said to be littered with tradition if not superstition.

He was going to make her choose, knowing how she'd answer - how she'd have to answer.

This had been his dance, and he was refusing to lead.

It's with saddness in her eyes that she looks to him, a hand cupping his jaw in return. "We can't Matthew. Not tonight. Not.."

Elektra wanted to say: Not like this. Only, if not like this, then how? How would it ever be okay? When would it be alright?

And then it hit her. The reason. The why of it. Why she couldn't say yes. Wouldn't say yes until..

Until he knew the truth about her.

If they were ever to do this again, she didn't want that lie between them. Not only because she refused to give him another reason to hate her, but also because if he wanted her, Elektra wanted him to want the real her, not this image he had of her in his head.

"I'm so sorry."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt blinks. "What?" he asks, it wasn't a challenge to her decision, but a question born of surprise. Even without the answer he pulls back from her, falling backwards until he's on his butt and hands in the middle of the ring.

He had questions so many questions all of them screaming for answers, but he shut them up except for one, which he allowed himself to speak, "What happened?" he asks her.

As he waits for an answer, he feels the other Matt Murdock coming back, the lawyer, the blind man, the man who was always in control, the Matt he'd been a few seconds ago sinking into the depths of that control. His prison until the next time something brought him out again.

Elektra has posed:
It hurt.

She remembered when she'd broken into his apartment, when she'd first returned to New York, and he'd turned his back on her and asked her to leave. How she coudl read the hesitation there, but knew no good could come of it.

This was like that. Only she was the one steeling herself against what she really wanted - to tell him it was all a great mistake and she'd changed her mind - and walk away. To see him turn from the man who had cupped her jaw so tenderly, into the tenseness of what she'd talked to at Josie's... it broke her heart. What little of it she allowed herself to retain, that is.

"Nothing happened," Elektra tells him flatly. "I just don't want to."

She tells him these lies, even though she knows he can read them. Knows that as much as she schools herself to hide them, these aren't lies she can hide from him. She can't even hide them from herself.

There are things you don't know, she wants to tell him. I wish I could explain, she wants to say. Only she can't say any of it. Instead, she gets up and makes her way to the ropes at the edge of the ring and climbs through, finding her shoes and discarded clothing and puts them on.

"Send me the contracts."

And with that, she's on her way.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt laughs, it's a bitter thing, he didn't need to hear her heartbeat to tell she was lying, "You don't want to," he says. "Right."

He pushes up off the mat but makes no move to stop her pacing like a caged beast inside the ring. He makes no move to stop her, turning as she leaves even though he could 'see' her the same no matter which way he was facing. It was the habit of the thing.

Her parting words earn a "Heh."

Though before she's gone he says what was on his mind, even though it had to burn through the layers of his control to reach his lips, "Elektra, it doesn't have to be this way," she'd know him well enough to know the offer was genuine. That he was offering understanding, faith, offering hope that they could be something different.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra stops, her body stiffening as she holds, deciding. Deciding whether or not to carry on and walk out the door, or if she'll turn and face him.

~It doesn't have to be this way.~

The words haunt her. Against her will she finds herself turning, still at the doorway. So close to having set herself free, and yet so deeply entangled with him that it's doubtful she'll ever manage that.

"How else will it be, Matthew? I bring you data and your world crumbles when you discover I've had it for days. There are things about me you don't know. Things that make that a pale shadow of deceit. So you tell me, how else can it be when what I am is a lie, and you won't forgive me for this one."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt is surprised when she turns to face him. He'd expected her to keep going, to say some last parting quip before gliding through the door and into the night. In a way as earnest as his offer had been he'd almost wanted that. Or at least, when he said the words he told himself that.

His expression turns grim when she tells him of the bigger lie. His eyes close. Of course there was more, there always was. The grim expression turns pained and exasperated. They had been so close and now this. He puts his hands on the top ropes. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised," he says, exhaustion and bitterness seeping into his voice. "It was nice to pretend though," he offers quietly. And it had been, though he knew it was that which made this moment all the more painful. He closes his eyes, knowing if he asked what the secret was she might stay. The trouble was, she might tell him and then, who knew what would come of that. He wasn't ready.

He takes a breath and says, "Good night, Elektra."

Elektra has posed:
Eletkra stiffens. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but not that. His dismissal cutting deeply. Could she have told him? She wasn't sure. But she knew this might be the closest she got to being able to. And he'd thrown it in her face.

"I want you to remember this day, Matthew. And remember I tried. I tried to tell you. So when you throw who I am in my face, you know why I'm going to tell you to go to hell."

And slowly, this time without looking back, she turns, opens the door, and walks on through, letting it closely itself behind her.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt turns away at her words. Though like closing his eyes, it made no difference he heard her words and felt her leave all the same. Maybe he would regret this, but he wasn't sure what had passed between them now was any better than what might have happened if she'd told him

Treacherously, his senses brought the scent of her to the forefront of his mind. He pushed it aside even as he did his best to remember it. A short time later his things were gathered and he was gone.