4019/The Power in Surrender

The Power in Surrender
Date of Scene:	08 March 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Matt bows to Elektra's demands in an attempt to save her. He finds out she's in deeper trouble than he anticipated and by his actions, so is he.
Cast of Characters:	Daredevil, Elektra

---

Daredevil has posed:
Matt had made up his mind after his talk with Claire, he would sign the papers, it just took some time for him to actually go ahead and send word to Elektra he wanted to meet. It was for the formality of the thing, to sign it in front of her, not, he told himself, because he wanted to see her again. How they parted? What almost happened? Both featured in his dreams. So, after two days he sent the message.

Matt >> Truce? We need to meet.

He speaks the message, into his phone, pausing a moment before he says, "Send." The phone whooshes as the message goes out, Matt sets down the phone and waits for the sound of a return message.

Elektra has posed:
When Matt's message hits her phone, Elektra almost deletes it on principle. To say she has no fucks left to give wouldn't be an understatement.. and yet? If she has none left, why does she still have a tail on Matt? It wasn't a question that she had an answer for. It was a question that she was most definitely avoiding thinking about.

Her gaze flicks over his text and she puts her phone down. She's ironing out the last minute details of her Community Centre. Another thing she's been avoiding thinking about. Soon, all too soon, the thing would be finished and the doors would open. And then what? All her philanthropic projects would be completed. None were hovering on the horizon. And if there was one thing that Elektra did not cope well with, it was boredom.

Only, out of sight didn't equal out of mind for Matt's text. The opposite as it happens. Her mind refused to focus on the matters at hand.

Angrily - she was angry at herself for not being able to ignore him - she sends back:

Elektra >> Hardly. Where?

She hits send before she can think better of it.

Daredevil has posed:
The sound of the incoming message has Matt picking up his phone. He runs his hand over the screen, the phone speaks the names of the buttons his fingers glide over, but he doesn't need them to be in this case, his fingers travel right to the button that reads the message. He allows himself a bit of a smile at the 'hardly', it was a sign he might have gotten to her at least a little bit. Otherwise it would have been just 'where' or there'd be no reply at all.

He speaks the return message:

Matt >> Can trek out to Gotham.

He means the community centre of course.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra snorts when his reply comes. He'd like that, wouldn't he? Make her feel like he was doing her some kind of favour. And to what end? She's about to type back a terse denial, some bitten back comment about what sort of truce is that, to suggest Josie's, when it occurs to her that NO, she should make him trek out here. Make him experience exactly what she's been doing. Rub his nose in things and feel guilty for his beliefs in her.

And, if she were honest, she'd admit, to show not only pride in what she'd done, but maybe change his mind some. To glean a word of praise from him. Only she's not honest with herself - far from it - and it suits her more to tell herself she's doing this to make him feel bad.

Elektra >> Yes. You can.

It's not even an inviting reply. Nor does she offer a car. Or directions. It's his truce. He can find his own way here.

Daredevil has posed:
There is an exasperated smile from Matt when his phone reads out the reply. No promise of a car, no directions. He had gotten to her.

"Dial Kitchen Cabs," Matt says as he goes to grab his briefcase.

A short time later Matt is stepping out of the cab onto the curb outside the community centre. "You going to be okay out here? I wouldn't want to be in this part of town and I can see."

Matt just smiles, gripping his cane in one hand. "I'll be alright," he turns and sticks the money back at the cabby, each denomination of bill folded differently. "I think that's right," he says.

The cabby does a quick count, "Yeah man, and good luck."

Matt nods, "Thanks," he says mildly then nudges the door closed and starts walking towards the community centre with his cane sweeping and tapping the way in front of him. Matt hated this part of the act, the walking like he didn't know what was out there, it was too slow, but right now it gave him a chance to get a sense of what Elektra had built, he could hear how the wind moved around it, smell the materials, feel how they creaked and groaned. It was remarkably quiet even for a new building, which spoke to the care of its construction.

His cane bumps against the door and he does the work of feeling for the door handle, looking to step inside.

Elektra has posed:
It was true. She'd spared no expense. Which isn't to say the place had cost a fortune - it had, but she'd not been taken advantage of. She'd merely leveraged companies with a contract they couldn't say no to - especially with promise of more in the future if this one went over well. That and this time of year was a dead time. A project this size, under this deadline? She'd made it worth their while and still gotten deals.

All to say that the structure was sound. Well built. Meant to last, and to suffice both as housing folks could be happy to live in, but also a sound structure of community building, along with a small parcel of park landd, complete with play structures, for residents and their families to use. It was still winter, which meant the place was somewhat stark and barren, but places were marked where trees and flowers would go in, and benches were already in place.

She hadn't gone into this with half-measures.

Matt is still feeling the door when he can sense someone approaching him from inside the building. A gruff male voice bites out, "Hey man, you lost? We're not open for business, and we ain't takin' resumes. Them you gotta put through the Wayne Foundation."

The mn stops short of opining that Matt isn't likely to fare well given his blindness, which is just as well, given she who is overseeing and funding this project is on site, and people like Matt are entirely in the mandate of hires that she's set out.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt drinks in the building as he makes that painfully slow walk from the curb to do the door. The place had a weight to it, a sense of permanence, the foundation of a new beginning for the community, but it also spoke of her. As he drew closer he could already get the sense of the inside, impressions of sounds and smells coming together her to give him a deeper sense of the place. It was all very her, the order to it, the attention to detail. It all spoke to the same control that Elektra maintained on herself and it marked this place like a fingerprint.

The man's question gets a patient smile from Matt. "Looked like the right place," he jokes mildly. "And Miss Natchios is expecting me."

Elektra has posed:
The place... carried that weight to it. It spoke of beginnings. And belonging. And permanence. Things Elektra didn't have, or believe in, but, as Matt noted, still spoke of her all the same. It was meticulous in its detail. As though, once deciding to create this space, no half-measure could be allowed.

And, unlike the pro-bono fund she'd thrown his way, this? This she'd done as a stand alone effort. One he'd likely never been meant to learn about from her.

That, too, was very Elektra.

The man calls over his shoulder, "Hey, Franco, you got any word from Ms. Natchios saying she's expectin' anyone?"

It's clear that the man doesn't believe Matt. Even if Matt is nicely dressed and all. Matt still reeks of 'looking for a job' - especially with that cane of his, and the usual makeup of Gotham poor.

Franco, who looks to be detailing the reception area, looks over and shrugs. "I'm not her secretary bud, why are you asking me?"

Only to have a brisk set of steps click down the hallway, and the woman in question lift her own voice in answer, spotting Matt standing on the opposit side of the doorway. "That gentleman is my guest. Please see him in. I'll receive him in the break room."

The break room was one of the two rooms where business was held on site, and often had been the preferred as it had been completed first and provided many of the niceities one might like for meetings. Like coffee. Or access to cooking facilities. And a fridge.

Without waiting for Matt, she turns on her heels and retreats to said room, leaving the man at the door to open it and wait for Matt to pass through. "Man, that's cold," he whistles under his breath. "You want I should show you the way?"

Daredevil has posed:
Matt could sense the care taken with the place, the effort put into it, not just by the workmen but by Elektra. He touched the wall feeling the cool smoothness of the concrete, and smiled to himself.

The hand lowers and the smile fades when he first gets a sense of her approach. She was mad, he could tell that much, but not furious, and her words though cold, were not meant to draw blood. That was a start.

"Thank you," Matt says at the offer, before allowing the man to lead him to the break room, continuing to take in the site and Elektra as he does. For Matt's part, he looks much the same as he always does, though the way he moves when he has to twist to his right confirms her agent's reports about him being stabbed the other night.

When shown to the break room, Matt gives another thank you to the workman, and then puts his briefcase down beside him so he can grip his cane with both hands. "Thanks for seeing me, Elektra," he says offering the olive branch early. Though the smile on his lips sours the effect somewhat, it's too smug, too knowing, even if by degrees.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra knew about the stabbing, of course. He'd demanded she remove her eyes. She'd ignored his 'request'. Then again, she'd not had her men help him.. even if that hooker had had an unfortunate accident after that incident. Those things happened. It really wasn't Elektra's fault.

The doorman leads Matt to the break room and leaves him, after knnocking on the door, and opening it for Matt, waiting till the other had gone inside before closing the door and taking his leave, muttering to himself. He was wise enough not to say anything aloud or where Elektra might hear him. He liked his job.

Elektra is pouring two coffee when Matt arrives. His words might be an olive branch. Her coffee might be the same. Though that's not a for certain. She'd have coffee if he were a foreman, too. Or perhaps not. It really all depended on how she needed the meeting to go, or what sort of statement she intended to make.

This time, however, it seemed the statement was one of nuetrality. One of setting parameters in the room. He would be tolerated long enough to possibly drink a coffee. But she wasn't making it intimate with some other beverage.

"I'm a busy woman, Matthew," she tells him, setting his cup down at a seat at the conference table in the room. "What is it you've come here to say?"

Daredevil has posed:
That death, when he hears of it, will weigh on Matthew's soul. After all, it was his actions, or inaction that lead her to the street and despite whatever protestations he had made about the fault having to stop somewhere, he would feel the accident, would in part, be his fault as well. Such was the burden of Matt's stubborn beliefs. The very thing, Elektra had been playing on.

Matt listens to the doorman's mutterings until he's fairly sure the man won't hear anything spoken inside. "Thank you," he says about the coffee, setting the cane against the breakroom table, as he moves to claim it.

"I noticed," he remarks, the statement in black and white is neutral, but his tone makes it a compliment, an acknowledgment of the work she's done. "And it's less what I've come to say, and more about what I've come to do."

He turns back to the door, where he'd left his briefcase, and bends easily to pick it up. "I've come to sign the contracts."

Elektra has posed:
With luck Matt won't hear of the hooker's demise. She'll just be another nameless face in the morgue.

Elektra doesn't join him at the table, preferring, instead, to lean her back against the countertop by the coffee maker, holding her cup between her hands. The room is large by breakroom standards, and it's clear that this room will likely double as a community kitchen at times. There's a small room annexed off of it that looks to be set up for more intimate dealings, and to allow staff their own space if this one is occupied, but still have access to the facilities.

When he says he's come to sign the contracts, the expression upon her face remains one of utter boredom, but her heartrate does a small spike, as does her scent. He's clearly suprised her.

"So you say." She levels that bored gaze upon him. It's entirely possible she doesn't believe him. Or at least it's clear she questions his motives.

"What are you playing at, Matthew. You made it clear what you thought of me and my offer. Why this sudden change of heart?"

Daredevil has posed:
Matt navigates to the table and sets his briefcase down, the leather is aged and worn, it's probably the same one Elektra had sent him when he graduated. Traditional gift for a lawyer and all of that. He opens it and produces the contracts and a pen. "No tricks, Elektra" he says as he flips through the pages to find the one he was looking for, near the back. He runs his finger over the braille quickly. He clicks the pen, smiling slightly at the feel of her surprise, then signs smoothly above the line of dots to mark the place.

It was done.

His own trepidation, that feeling of oh god what have I done, is smothered, but it shows through in how he can't quite manage so cocky a smile as he might have wanted.

"You're trying, Elektra," he says. "You made your case, I heard you. Plus, the building we're in makes a pretty good case too."

He waits, expectantly for her response, not quite sure of what he'd get. This had been a long battle coming to a quicker end than either of them likely imagined.

Elektra has posed:
Her first instinct is to take the contracts and rip them up. She's still not sure that she won't.

Elektra watches Matt sign the things, her entire body tensing as he does so. Her entire being fighting saying something caustic and biting to him. Things meant to cut and wound and leave him bleeding. Now that she's got him where she wanted him, there's this perverse part of her wants to negate it all. Which isn't, she reminds herself, the point of this all.

The point, she reminded herself, was to actually try to do some good. She wanted this, remember? Though it all had started long ago. Before the other twists and turns her life had taken. The roadmap that had led her into taking The Hand into her Fist and forming it into a vision she could live with.

"The building wasn't to impress you, Matthew. It was for me."

Well, for her father. It was a thing she knew he'd have liked. Would have stood behind and nodded in that carefully considered way of his, and given his approval.

"So. Now what?"

She refused to make this easy for him. Though she could have made it harder.

Daredevil has posed:
That move, to tear up the contracts that would have been the last thing Matt expected. Especially with all the effort Elektra had made to bring him to this point. The tensing, and the words the tensing spoke to, that he had expected, though when the words don't come, or at least, not the words that he expected, it digs a pit of silence between them.

"I know," he says raising from the contract and clicking closed the pen. He turns, with a solemn sort of smile. "That's why it makes your case so well, it shows that deep down Elektra, you're a good person. I want to help you."

That question, now what, is left to lay unanswered for the moment while he waits for a reaction to the rest.

Elektra has posed:
"Oh, please," Elektra drawls after his words. "I'd hate for you to choke upon those lies. And were your words any more condescending.."

She leaves the sentence dangling between them, her own tones dry and dripping with barely restrained bitterness.

"No. Really. Why," she sets her coffee down and moves to the table to take the contract from him and ascertain that it is the ones she sent to his office, and that his signature is, indeed, his anndlegal. "Why did you come here today Matthew? You could have signed these in your office and couriered them over. Not to mention, why sign them at all. We both know your opinion of me. After all, you've gone out of your way to make it clear upon multiple occassions. And I don't recall that we parted on any sort of speaking terms when last we met."

That might be overstatement. They'd parted on speaking terms. Terse ones, but they did involve speaking.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt's brow furrows above the red lenses of his shades, "What's your problem, Elektra?" he asks her his lips pulled tightly into a frown. "Isn't this what you wanted? Me signing the contracts? A chance to do some good?"

The frown remains but his eyes, barely visible behind the shades, they soften, "I mean what I said, you're doing good here, I'm proud of you."

When she picks up the contracts and studies them, he says, "It's really my signature, and the braille part, I didn't change a word," he assures her. The other, plainly written part, was signed too, by both Matt and Foggy, legally binding and everything.

Her question silences him as he considers how best to answer, it wasn't that he didn't know, it was a matter of how to say it. In the end he goes with simplicity, coupled with a sad smile, "I missed you."

Elektra has posed:
It was all there. The contract her lawyers had drawn up - Braille and printed. All of it. Signed. Sealed. Delivered. In front of her and in person even. So why did she feel so tense and deflated? Why was it she felt so angry as well? Why did she still want to take the thing and tear it apart, to shred it between her fingers and render it null and void?

As he'd said, wasn't this what she wanted?

It was, but... The but was deafening. And not a thing she had an answer for.

When he says he's imssed her, her eyes close. Her body stiffening again, only this time to try and quell the leap of likewise within her. The sudden surge of want and need that rose in her body and ached to give in. To put the papers down and ask him too forgive her. To swear whatever it was he wanted if only he'd take her in his arms and kiss her like they once had. Like they had a future between them.

Like love was enough.

Only she knew better than that. Her eyes opening, the contract is set upon the table with great precision and care. "I've missed you too," she says quietly. If there's more, she stills her tongue for the moment, letting that be a beginning.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt felt it too, the passing of the contract, the thing that had been a bridge between them and for reasons other than legal or moral ones he wondered if he'd made a mistake and gotten rid of the thing that let them be together, without admitting things neither of them wanted to admit. He frowns, putting his senses on things other than Elektra, focusing on the temperature of the room, finding its gradients and pockets like someone might fidgit with loose items on a desk.

Still, even, with his focus elsewhere there was no blocking out Elektra entirely, he could feel the tension in her, the shift in her heart rate, in her scent, and from that he could tell what she wanted at least in broad strokes.

He hears her lashes part, the shifting of the paper on the table. Her words ring above them all, his smile grows less sad, even as his words become halting, "Can I kiss you?" he asks, hardly the man without fear in this request. He had no idea of what they were doing or what this even meant, he just knew he wanted it, wanted her.

Elektra has posed:
Can I kiss you.

The question was a simplicity between them. And a chasm fathoms deep and several fathoms wider. They both knew what danger lay in that gesture. Why they needed to avoid it. And for a moment it was on her lips to say no. To deny both of them this.

Only when she parted her lips to speak, the words that tumbled forth were so very different. A softly voiced, "I won't stop you" instead. Not can't. Won't.

Daredevil has posed:
"That's not a yes," Matt points out dryly. A joke to alleviate tension, or at least his tension, her answer was plain enough.

Still, this was not at all them. Quiet words, asking for permission. It was all very strange and Matt didn't know if it was a good thing or bad yet, but he only knew a way to tell.

He licks his lips nervously, as though he hadn't kissed her hundreds of times before, then, taking her in his arms he kisses her, slowly, tenderly, carefully as if they were treading on new and uncertain ground.

Elektra has posed:
It wasn't a yes. But it also wasn't a no.

They really weren't much further than they were the other night. Not unless you counted the fact that today they were both aware that there were things lying between them that were dangerous. That both of them were pointedly ignoring those thing in favour of.. well, it was only a kiss, right?

They'd not been this tentative when they'd first met. Still, it somehow suited. The caution expressing the things that they had not yet given word to. And when his lips meet hers, it is with that same tender uncertainty that hers meet his. Her arms slow to embrace, though that, too, they come to do, holding him as though he were both terribly fragile, and her surety in a storm.

Daredevil has posed:
When Elektra returned Matt's kiss with the same uncertainty, Matt decided, different could be alright. This, was very much not the them he remembered, but, it was nice, a moment of tender affection, a few seconds shelter from the storm that was their lives.

Eventually, the kiss does come to an end but Matt is in no hurry to step away, and if she lets him he rests his head on hers for a moment. Words, fail him in this moment and the best he can do in the moment is to say, "That was nice," his tone filling in for his lack of eloquence, hinting at just how much, whatever this was had been needed.

Elektra has posed:
The gesture is allowed, its intimacy welcomed for long moments past when one or both shoud have put an end to this. His words, when they finally come, have Elektra sighing softly.

"Too nice, Matthew." So many times now, the Matt and Matthew have become interchangeable. She's been slipping from one to the other, tones indicating that it isn't pushing him away any longer. That despite herself, whether Matthew or Matt, he's entangled in her life in ways she's reluctant to sever. "Nothing has changed though. What are we doing?"

Not a word of her has been above a whisper since the kiss. Afraid, it seems, to break this truce with actual sound. As though their voices would shatter this illusion they're weaving and force them back into the reality of their irreconcilable differences.

Daredevil has posed:
The gesture allowed he leans his head against hers and drinks in all the sensations that make up Elektra. Revelling in them before he forms the words he speaks and she forms a reply. He considers that reply. Too nice, it was probably true, and he knew for a fact nothing had changed, and as for what they were doing?

"I have no idea, Elektra" he says honestly, quietly. He'd always used her full name, not E, or Ellie, letting as she did with his name now, tones speak to his purpose. Tonight, the name is offered tenderly. His confusion coming through in the softly spoken name. "But I don't want to stop."

He pauses then, where a sighted man might have looked at her, he gathers the threads of his senses, nervously searching those threads for signs of her reaction before she gives it words or action.

Elektra has posed:
And what did she want?

That Elektra had no pat answer for. Or at least none that she wanted to give at this time. Even if she knew that sensible would say to spurn him now and walk away. That the tension and chill she'd given him when he'd arrived was the safest answer. For both of them.

Then again, when had she ever lived for the safest answer?

Her eyes close, Elektra drinking in the nearness of him. His scent. The faint thrum of heartbeat she can feel. The breathing she can both hear and feel. The small tremors of his body against hers. All the things that said he wasn't as sure about anything he'd said in the past as he'd seemed. Or, that at least right now he didn't want to be certain of them.

This way lay madness, and she knew it... So why wasn't she acting against it?

Daredevil has posed:
A part of Matt drew his senses to the door and urged him to go through it telling him that heartbreak would be the least of the troubles they'd face if they carried on along this course. The rest of him didn't listen, it knew how lonely his life was. How even those closest to him didn't see the real him, Elektra did. She may not understand the good part, the part that worried about killing or his 'boring legal shit' but right now he'd take that, even knowing that lack of understanding were the bricks that made up the wall between them.

Still, he had no clue what he was doing or where that was going, but as Elektra took solace in his own uncertainty, he took solace in her.

He seeks her face with a hand again as a prelude to another kiss, he might not have the words or a plan, but that at least felt right.

Elektra has posed:
This time she knows what is coming. Eletkra's breath is a slow, sad exhale, because as much as she wants this - the kiss - she knows it isn't an answer, nor a thing that will last. Still, she's the one who begins to close the distance between them first. Her lips a litany of words given in silence. Things his can read. However forbidden.

These heartbeats, these some few heartbets, while they kiss, she'll allow herself to believe that those empty years between them did not occur. That they'd merely been in different rooms than one another, and were now sharing the same space.

It was the sort of lie she shouldn't allow herself, but she'd allowed herself so many lies now, what was one more?

Daredevil has posed:
Matt allows himself to enjoy the kiss all the more for her coming to meet him rather than him coming to her, it was the first words in that litany her lips speak of the things they can't put voice to. The things that might break the fragile truce between them. He has a similar litany and it's spoken through his lips to hers, and in the way he clings tightly to her throughout.

It was easy in that moment to dream, to forget that there was that wall between them. Matt wanted to forget and live in the dream for as long as the world let him. He doubted it would be for long, but perhaps. He was still on the backfoot, working on instinct, with no plan and no idea where this will lead.

Eventually some direction had to be found, and so he when their lips part, he speaks into the silence to ask, "So, um, do we want to go somewhere or..."

His attentions fix on her again.

Elektra has posed:
Twice now she's come to this moment, Elektra poised on the edge of a perfect moment to tell him. Or, as it happens, an imperfect one. She knew that there would never be a time where the words that were about to tumble out of her mouth were going to be the right words to say.

All she knew was this was the right time to say them.

She wanted to go with him, back to his place or hers, and forge something of these tenuous bonds they were building. Only her brain told her that if ever there were to be a hope of a 'us' with herself and Matt, that to hold these words and allow anything else to happen with that this lie between them would be the last bridge she burned.

Even if telling him might still be the powderkeg that blew that bridge out of the water and left them forever standing upon opposite shores with a raging river between them.

"Matthew," she begins, his name catching in the back of her throat, making her sound suddenly uncertain. "I will go with you, but first.." The look she gives him is heartbroken. "Matthew? I am The Hand. The Fist that the Hand makes when it closes. They? Are me. I wanted to tell you at Fogwell's. I've been trying to think of a way to tell you.."

Her voice drifts off. She expects to hear the implosion any moment now.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt is still lost in the dream of them when Elektra begins to speak, when her voice catches, he expects to be turned down, that some part of Elektra's mind had come to its senses and she was stopping this before they regretted it. That assumption left him unready to hear what came next, the confession. He laughs when he hears it, a tight sounding thing, "Right, the Hand. I mean as ways to let me down go, I'll give you that one is inventive but-" then his mind begins to catch up, the steady heartbeat behind the words, or a steady as a heart can be when giving a confession like hers and throwing away what it was she was throwing away.

"No," he says, the word is a mere outrush of breath, his takes Elektra's face in his hands, "Tell me you're joking Elektra, that this is just some stupid game of yours."

His voice falls, "Tell me you didn't do this."

Elektra has posed:
Elektra's blue eyes meet the brown of his with a helplessness.

"It was a war that was never going to end, Matthew. I could either do this, or spend the rest of my life killing them, or waiting for them to kill me. This way, fewer need to die. I can forge something better of them."

That was the lie she told herself. And like the best lies, it held enough truth to it that she stated it with calmness and certainty. Her words did hold some logic and truth. She had stopped the killing by taking this truce. She could oversee their actions and temper them. She had. Only, at the heart of it all, they were still The Hand.

She might have mitigated their circumstances, taken their sins upon herself, but she knew it was an allegory that Matt probably wouldn't appreciate.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt Murdock, lawyer and orator is stunned into silence, but his actions speak loudly, he backs away with halting steps, his expression one of horror. "I-I can't believe it," he says finally, hand pushing back through his hair. "You joined the Hand. They killed your father, they tried to kill you, what could you possibly shape them into that makes that alright?" he asks.

While he speaks and while he waits for her answer, his mind rebels at the idea: no, no, no, this can't be happening, it doesn't make any sense. It shows through on his face after the initial revulsion has passed.

Elektra has posed:
"We were killing one another, Matthew," Elektra says quietly. She knows now she's pressed the plunger. Maybe she should have grabbed at that one last time in his arms before this catastrophe. Only what would that have gotten her? More lies? More stories she'd tell herself? Something bittersweet to hold in the long, empty nights?

She already had that.

"People were going to die. And not just them or me. Innocent people. It was the terms of the truce. The killing stopped."

She draws herself up, and exhales, the breath released cleansing. It was done. She'd given him her last secret. He'd once said how being with her was different because he never had to hide who he was with her. That she accepted him for all he was. Good. Bad. Ugly.

Now he had all of her. And she could see that despite her small, fragile hope, he wouldn't offer her the same.

Forcing a calm smile upon her lips, she gathered up their coffee mugs and moved to the sink where she dumped the chilled remains down the drain and left the mugs for someone else to clean up.

"Don't worry. The money is clean. All of it. Your precious firm is safe."

Daredevil has posed:
If given the choice, Matt would have welcomed the fresh memories of them before his world was so efficiently cut to pieces, though that's far from his mind now. He's afraid, he opens himself to his senses, letting the building around him inside the tightly sealed box inside his head he uses to keep out the world and let in only what he wanted. He half-expected to hear the sounds of swords cutting air, the feet in tabi moving towards the room. Though he wasn't afraid for him, he was afraid for her.

"You think I care about the contracts Elektra? I care about you! This has to be a trick, they couldn't kill you one way and so they invite you in, give you a bunch of false promises to get you another way. And even if they're telling the truth and they let you in, we both know what happens to members who talk to outsiders."

He follows her to the sink and grabs her arm, "Forget the damn dishes, Elektra, we need to get out of here, they'll be coming, we need to get, you, me, Karen and Foggy out of her, probably get the Danny, Jessica, Colleen and Claire to help us, God, even Stick. I don't care, we'll figure it out, but we need to go now." Clearly, he doesn't believe the Hand's offer of leadership to Elektra was genuine, or he just can't accept the truth, that the love of his life was the leader of the Hand.

Elektra has posed:
His hand upon her arm stills her task at the sink. It stills all of her. Though really it's his words that do that.

"Who are we fooling, Matthew. You caring about me has never changed anything. The world I live in is populated by that kind of danger."

She reaches with her free arm and turns on the tap, proceeding to rinse out the mugs. "Of course it's a trap, Matthew. I'd be all kinds of a fool to think otherwise, wouldn't I, and have you ever known me to be a fool?"

Mugs rinsed, she turns off the tap and turns to him, her now damp hand cupped over his hand upon her arm. "Where do you even think we could go, Matthew, that they wouldn't find me? And what of your friends. Just what sort of danger do you think you'd be asking them to live in for the rest of their lives. Over me."

She shakes her head, patting his hand, and moving away. "I knew what I was doing when I said yes. Though really, this isn't the place for this discussion."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt blinks when she goes back to rinsing out the mugs. So nonchalant, so unworried by it all. That was when the truth of the situation begins to sink in. He's silent for the most part, trying to process it all, Elektra was the leader of the Hand. It just didn't feel real. Though the damp hand upon his own brings him out of his thoughts. "You don't want me to answer that," Matt says of her being a fool. She wasn't, usually, but this case still looked like the exception.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet," he admits, still clinging to the idea that they could some how run and make it work, that the Hand in its ubiquity would not be able to find them. "But we have to try, you can't stay in their hands."

When she parts from him he leans against the counter, still processing, but listening at the same time, her mention of this not being the place, gets him to lift his head, though he doesn't bother with the illusion of looking at her, "Where do you have in mind?" he asks. "Because we are /definitely/ discussing this."

Elektra has posed:
Elektra doesn't so much part from him as break the contact in an effort to break the spell he's creating with his touch upon her arm. It would be oh so easy to give in to what he suggests. All of them running off, creating a space where she's protected, and loved, and part of them.. Only, she never was that, was she? And he doesn't see it. He's forgotten the bariers he's put between himself and her, let alone those he's built to keep her away from the others.

"Oh, Matthew. You don't see it, do you? I'm not one of you. I never was. You said so yourself."

She gives him a weak smile, then moves in close enough to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Come. We'll go to my place. Perhaps pick up something on the way to eat? Your choice."

She begins to gather up her papers, including the contract.

Daredevil has posed:
The spell may well be broken for Elektra, but not for Matt, that image, that future looms large in his mind; the barriers between them seeming not as formidable in his desire to protect her.

"Forget what I said, things don't have to be that way, we can figure all of this out," he promises, clinging to her briefly when she kisses his cheek. His eyes close even at that chaste kiss.

Still, they were in her stronghold, she was right, they needed to be elsewhere. "There's no one listening," he says and then he cocks his head and gives a second longer listen. "No bugs either, at least nothing turned on. But you're right, we should go."

The mention of her place, gets a nod, "I assume it's safe?" he asks. "And Thai?" he throws out there coming up with the first thing that crosses his mind. He wasn't really thinking about food right now.

Elektra has posed:
"Of course my place is safe. It's not my place in Midtown. And I take care I'm not followed." Though Elektra knows that state of affairs won't last forever. Her lips bowing over a smile as he mentions Thai. "You're speaking my language," she murmurs back at him.

Reachign up, she brushes fingers along his cheek where she kissed. "It's going to be okay, Matthew. Truly."

Things gathered, she leads him to the door, offering her arm to keep his appearances authentic.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt gives a nod to her assurances that her place was safe. Elektra didn't cut corners when it came to ensuring her privacy, it was something he could take her word on. He can hear the smile in her voice about the Thai food, he pushes up from the counter, the corners of his lips turning upwards. "You're entirely too calm about all of this," he remarks.

He can't help but lean into her fingers, briefly, his customary stubble digging into her fingers as he does so, "You're the leader of the Hand, Elektra. You'll have to excuse my skepticism," he says of things being okay.

He collects his things quickly then, his cane folded, he takes her arm. Letting her lead him to whatever car is waiting, and then on to Thai food and her apartment. He's quiet for the journey, lost in his thoughts.

Elektra has posed:
"I can't afford to be anything but calm, Matthew," Elektra says quietly.

And then they're off. First Thai food. And then, some time after that, her apartment.

Once inside, she flips on one of the sets of lights, giving the place a soft glow. "Well, this is it," she murmurs, somewhat jokingly telling him to "Make yourself at home. Look around."

Fine. He can't look around, but she knows he has ways of familiarizing himself with the place.

"Wine or beer?" Head peepig out of the kitchen area to ask him which he'd prefer.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt can't argue with Elektra's logic on being calm. She was playing a dangerous game.

When they're trip is over, he enters the apartment, offering only the faintest hint of a smile at her joke. "Thanks," he says dryly even as he gets a feel of the place.

Much like Elektra's place in Midtown, it had a certain Spartan elegance, clean hard surfaces, sparse furnishings, but expensive, by the smell of the rich leather and other materials, and walls that let through the noise of the city far below so well that they had to be glass. He makes his way in that direction, and puts a hand against the window, focusing on the vibrations. They were floor to ceiling, running the length of the living room. He pulls his hand back, turning from the windows to answer her question, "Beer," he says, because of course he does. "And you must have quite a view," he remarks trying to be conversational despite the growing tightness in his gut about all of this.

Taking a seat he asks, "So, what are we going to do about this?"

Elektra has posed:
Of course his answer was beer. She's not surprised by this. Though she is surprised that she's bothered stocking it up in her fridge. Other than sentimentality, it wasn't a drink she would normally tend towards. Slumming it, Matt had once called it, and she'd laughed at him. In some ways he was right. In others..

She collects the beer and comes out to the living area, taking up a seat upon the couch and setting a beer across the way for him. The Thai food bags are opened, and perhaps surprisingly, she doesn't insist upon plates, pulling chopsticks out of the bags and opening up cartons. "Family style?"

So far she's ignoring the actual topic they've come to discuss.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt's head tilts when she actually brings the beer. "I didn't think you were serious," he remarks. "Don't tell me I've rubbed off on you," he says. He does take the beer, cracking the top and giving it a sniff on the way to his mouth, it was rich and slightly earthy smelling, probably dark, "You really need to tell Josie where to get this stuff," he says even before he takes a pull from the bottle.

He makes a small noise of appreciation as he pulls the bottle from his lips and sets it down next to the opening bags of Thai food, the scent of green chilli and other spices rising up from them. "Sure," he says of her suggestion, grabbing a pair of chopsticks for himself.

Pulling them apart, he says, "And you didn't answer my question." His tone is patient and even.

Elektra has posed:
"I could tell her," Elektra says with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "But then I'd have to kill her." She, too, drinks from her bottle, legs curled up beneath her as she relaxes upon the couch, a carton of noodles in her hands.

"Mmm," she begins, picking up noddles and placing them in her mouth. "What are /we/ going to do about this? I presume you mean my leadership of The Hand. And I'm not sure there is a we in this matter at all, Matthew. At least there wasn't a we before you found this out. I'm not entirely certain what's changed?"

Daredevil has posed:
Matt can tell she's joking and shakes her head, "I dunno, Josie's tough, she might be able to take you," he offers with a slight grin as he takes a bite of his noodles. He hadn't been hungry, but the trip from the Thai place to Elektra's with the smell of the food heavy in his nostrils changed his mind.

For all his grins and jokes, Matt doesn't relax as completely as Elektra, indeed his posture is tense an outward sign his inward struggle.

He makes a face, "What else would I mean?" he asks her. "And sure, easy for there to be no we in this if you don't tell me about it, but I know now Elektra, that's what's changed," he turns to her so she could see his face. "Now that I do, maybe I can help you get out of this."

Elektra has posed:
"Well, she is pretty good with throwing out the riff-raff. You might be right. But far be it for me to tempt fate. I ssuppose you'll just have to come visit me if you want somemore." Elektra shrugs lightly.

Of course she'd been joking about Josies. Likely she was joking about the coming to visit her as well. He'd draw the lines in the sand of them long ago. She doubted he intended upon fraternizing now.

His impassioned speech about there being a we now merely earns a delicate arch of brow. "And how was I to tell you, Matthew? You'd already told me to get out of your life for who and what I was, this is past that yet again. You couldn't accept me then. I fail to see what's changed now."

Her carton is set down and the beer taken up. "Really. The only reason I told you at all was because we were about to make the kind of mistake we'd both regret. Someone had to be the voice of reason." And if ever he knew a lie from her, despite her stilling her body's betrayal as much as she knew how, he'd know that for one. "I wasn't asking for your help."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt chews and swallows his noodles as he takes in Elektra's words. The joke about the beer, earns a slight up turn of his lips again. "It's good enough that I might," he says of coming to her for more. It was a way of stepping back from the other reasons he might choose, or might have chosen to visit.

The noodles are set down though, when it comes to more serious matters. "I still don't agree with what you've done but what's changed is your life is in danger, Elektra. Don't tell me your old life put it in danger too, I know it did, but not like this, the Hand is ruthless and you're right in the middle of them. So, if you expected me to take this all with a shrug and let it go, sorry, sweetheart, it's not happening."

He didn't need his senses to catch that lie, "Right. Well when you feel like telling me the truth on that one, let me know," he says, "But as for help, asked for or not you're going to get it."

There is more that goes unspoken, but shows briefly on his face, his fear that he might lose her, not to an argument for a span of months or years, but forever, to death. The look is there and then it's gone, hidden away behind a sip of his beer.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra chuckles softly. "Well, if I'd known beer was all it took to get you to come visit, I'd have stocked up years ago."

A slow exhale of breath follows a long pause of silence. "Of course my old life put me in danger, Matthew. Nothing has changed. All that's different now is.." She stops herself and considers her next words.

"You can't save me, Matthew. I am what I am. What I always was. They didn't come to me with the offer because of my forgiving nature. You said it yourself. I'm a killer. It's what I enjoy. Now I have a cadre devoted to protecting me." Plus those within The Hand equally devoted to usupring her position. That would never change. "In some ways it was perhaps the wisest career move I've ever made."

She isnt sure what to say about the other. The bit they both know she's lying about. She'd not told him to stop him from loving her; to stop them both from falling into one another's arms and beginning some affair neither were prepared for. She'd said the words because she was too afraid of what might happen if he found out on his own. And really, how could she tell him that?

"You wouldn't have forgiven me," she says finally. "And you don't want to help me, Matthew. I'm still the woman you despised. Don't fool yourself otherwise."

Daredevil has posed:
"Well, now you do," Matt offers in his usual wry fashion. Though with what other words pass between them, he doubts very much she'd keep her fridge stocked if that were true.

"The hell I can't," he counters," about saving her. He had to believe it was possible. "I know I've called you a killer, that you have killed, but you don't have to be Elektra, even if if I haven't been the best at expressing that. You're more than that." He sets down his beer, reaching for her, his eyes closing in a pained expression, "And becoming the leader of the Hand is not a career move, it's..." he didn't have the words for the enormity of it. Or did he? "It's living damnation, you have to see that."

He let's the silence pass, knowing that things had passed unspoken for them both.

Matt frowns deeply, her doubts about his intentions, "I do want to help you, Elektra and I've never despised you, just your choices."

Elektra has posed:
Elektra watches as he reaches for her, not yet decided what she's going to do about that. The simplest answer is to offer her hands. her fingers resting lighhtly in his palms, making contact with him in return.

"You don't understand, Matthew. I can do so much more good with them than if I left them be. It's not just the deaths I can stop by ending the war between them and myself. It's the things that I can begin to make changes over. Restructure the entire organization. There's new blood in the hierarchy, and with my guidance, we can become, if not better, at least less. I didn't do this lightly."

And she hadn't. Even if her vision for The Hand feel short of good, or was something she could never bring to fruition, she bleieved that she could make better of it. She'd try. Even as there were parts of her that gloried in what she now had in her hands. Under her oversight, even a partially redeemed Hand provided so much more in her life than anything she'd ever done before. In some ways it was the answer she'd always been looking for.

Daredevil has posed:
Despite the clasping of their hands, Matt couldn't feel more distant from Elektra as the words tumble out of her mouth. "I understand all too well Elektra, the temptation to do a little evil to do some good, but it doesn't work in the long run, but it's alluring that's why the road to hell is paved with good intentions," he says his words quiet but kindly meant, counselling not preaching. He clasps her hands more tightly, as if he could be her tether to the light. "Besides, even if the Hand becomes better than it is, what's that leave you, the Kingpin instead of whatever monster ruled the Hand before you? That's not enough, you're better than that."

He closes his eyes again his hands falling away from hers in his sorrow for her. In the silence follows, his mind drifts to an earlier comment, "Wouldn't have forgiven you when?" he asks suddenly as much to delay what he expected was the beginning of another of their bruising and intractable arguments.

Elektra has posed:
His hands fall away, and for he can sense of her, he can't see her face. Doesn't see things shutter and fold away. Things she'd almost allowed to hope put back on their shelves to be forgotten.

"Except I'm not better, Matthew. We both know it. It's why you walked away before and will walk away again." And where she could keep the truth of her words hidden from him, discarding them as some fainciful notion and merely avoid explaining what she'd meant, or, as he expects, turn things into another of their inescapable, unwinnable, arguments, Elektra chooses to tell him.

"If I'd said come back here and the inevitable had happened, and you'd found out later about who I am, you'd never have forgiven me." She makes a soft, self-deprecating sound. "I expected you wouldn't forgive me regardless, but at least this way it's not for lying to you about what I am."

She almost smiles. "You know, for a moment I considered asking you to stay." She had. When he'd held out his hands to her. That act coupled with his concernned words for her - for some small moments she'd believed that maybe he might have stayed after all.

It had been a faint hope at best.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt frowns, sensing something is off but not having enough cues to make sense of it. For his own part, he aches at how much Elektra seems to want to walk this path. Struggling to see it her way, for the good she's trying to do.

"You are, Elektra," Matt says, with certitude. "I wouldn't have be here if I didn't believe that." He removes his glasses, removing the red hued shield he put between the world and his injury so she could better see the truth in his expression. He blinks, not out of need, but pride, he didn't like to show the world he was anything less than whole, but he does it now, to make his point.

He's silent when she answers his question, his first thought is that she's wrong, but given more thought, he sees she's not. It would have all seemed like manipulation, lies rather than something real.

He didn't know if he would be able to forgive her for becoming part of the Hand's evil, but he knew part of him would always want him to. He was even less sure he'd forgive himself for what he says next:

"Then ask me."

Elektra has posed:
She's never seen it as vunlerability in him. In some ways she's seen it as a strength - to remove those glasses and stand strong in the face of what it says to the world. Others would see vulnerability. To her she saw all the other things it meant. The trust he put in others when he did that. How he allowed himself to be merely human with those he let in. And despite all they'd been to and done to one another, he'd still let her in. Still let her see him like this. It was a thing she'd learned to both respect and appreciate.

Her eyes watch his face, trying to read from him what to make of any of this. It wasn't an easy thing to do - to watch him struggle with his thoughts. Especially when she could tell he'd seen the truth of what she'd told him. That he'd have taken her not telling him as a duplicious lie. A manipulation. Something akin to rubbing his face into who and what she was and how she'd made him believe in her when they both knew the truth of her was so very different. Only, unlike him, she could live with that truth more easily.

Oh, she wanted to be better. She wanted to believe that the things she tried to do said she was better. But deep down she didn't believe it, any more than she thought he believed it.

Which is why his next words are like a twisting knife in her chest. Ask me. As simply as that, he tells her to ask him.

"To what end, Matthew?" Her question isn't a knife, it's a sadness. Though she supposed she owes it to him on some level. This one last jab at her. The dignity of taking what was his and walking away.

"Stay, Matthew. Stay the night with me." Her heart clenching with the futility of it all.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt was a man with few insecurities, his life had burned most of those away, but being seen as less, was one of them. It was what drove him to embrace the loss of his sight and the gifts that came with it, but also why he kept his eyes hidden behind those red lenses, removed rarely and only with those he trusted. Which, still included Elektra, for all their friction and hurts.

When he feels Elektra's gaze on him he makes no effort to hide his thoughts; how he saw her point about why she told him when she did and how at least in this moment he could see past that confession and still want her even as parts of him raged against her choices.

"You're asking me?" Matt says, "You're supposed to be the reckless one," he says with quiet humour. "Honestly, I am not thinking that far ahead."

When she asks him, he doesn't answer, not with words, but closes the distance between them and pulls her into a kiss.