Chapter Text
Karen cursed as she stared at her laptop screen. She’d just filed a story — which she needed to do before she could leave for lunch — but, as usual, as soon as she thought she was finally done, she spotted a couple of dumb typos that needed to be corrected. She raced back into the file to fix them before the metro editor noticed the story was in.
A few clicks and she sat back with a sigh. She was running late. Again. Lunch dates weren’t the easiest to swing with a reporter’s shifting schedule, but you could only meet for coffee so many times before you craved something more...substantial.
Karen got up from her desk and peered out the window, not surprised to see a tiny flash of red glinting below in the sunlight. She smiled and turned back to grab her purse.
“Hey, Page, did you ever get a comment from the mayor’s office?” Ellison asked from her doorway.
“Yeah, I just filed the piece to Bart. We should be good to go.”
“Great.”
But instead of leaving as she expected, Ellison was walking into her office. She cringed internally.
“Are you hungry? I thought we could get lunch and talk about the background for that city comptroller story.”
“I can’t,” she said apologetically. “I’m meeting someone.” Her eyes flicked back to the window.
Ellison, whose nose for news could not be denied, immediately cozied up to the glass and looked down to the street. His face wrinkled up in distaste. “Is that Murdock?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed, a little bashfully.
“Well, tell him to take a hike. There’s no way he’s getting you back.”
“What?” she gasped. How did Ellison even know that they—
“Karen, you have the makings of a star reporter. You can’t go back to being a legal secretary.”
She grinned as she realized her mistake. “I was the office manager,” she said. “And he’s not trying to get me to work for him again. We’re, uh, we’re dating.”
Ellison’s eyebrows went up. “Carry on, then,” he said jauntily.
Karen slung her bag over her shoulder and followed him out into the newsroom. “Call me if you have any questions,” she said as she passed Bart’s desk. He gave her a quick nod in return.
But right when Karen thought she’d finally made her escape, she heard Ellison calling from behind her. “Karen? I just remembered — isn’t Murdock representing that kid who’s suing over endexoprene? Aaron something. Aaron James?”
She stopped in her tracks.
“I’ll have Jeremy take over that story.”
Karen whipped around, her mouth falling open in indignation. “You can’t—”
“It’s a huge conflict of interest and you know it,” Ellison said. “Unless you want to stop dating a source.”
She pressed her lips together and sighed. “Give it to Jeremy.”
There was no way she was going to stop dating her source.
Downstairs, Matt was waiting on the sidewalk next to a Bulletin newspaper box, looking like an ad for something Karen definitely wanted to buy in the golden light and gentle breeze of a perfect late spring day. His shirt was open at the collar and he’d tucked his tie away somewhere.
Karen’s mouth watered — and it wasn’t because she was hungry for lunch. An unexpected shyness overtook her as she waded her way through the pedestrians toward him. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s a nice day. I didn’t mind waiting.” Matt gave her a soft smile and moved in for a kiss — quick, casual, but her stomach flipped over anyway.
That was new, the kissing. Well, new again. Hence the shyness.
They’d agreed on their first coffee date to take it slow. Karen was relieved to finally have her secrets out, and honestly still a bit astonished that Matt hadn’t run screaming from her past, but she didn’t want to rush and regret it.
They’d had lots of coffee those first few weeks. Coffee, and conversation, and a steadily growing track record of making time for each other. Because that’s what she was really looking for, wasn’t it? For Matt to show up when he said he would. To put in the effort.
So far, so good on that score.
Which meant that lately, they’d been getting lunch. And when it started to rain on their way back to the Bulletin two days ago… well, it would have taken someone with a hell of a lot more willpower to resist the pull of memory and desire. Karen had slipped into a news meeting ten minutes late, with damp hair, a flimsy excuse, and the sizzle of Matt’s kisses still fresh on her lips.
And today, he’d answered the question of Is kissing something we’re doing now? in a simple, straightforward, no-hesitation way that made her feel like she was walking somewhere above the pavement as they moved down the block.
She thought that, just maybe, she was ready for dinner.
Evening activities had been strictly off-limits so far — it was the only way to make her lack of willpower and the not-wanting-to-rush in any way compatible. Especially now that she knew exactly what it felt like to get her hands on Matt’s skin. Especially now that she knew what it was like to sleep in his arms.
Having dinner would lead to walking home which would lead to danger. Karen needed deadlines and daylight to keep herself from giving in to temptation.
But maybe it had been enough time.
Their favorite sidewalk café wasn’t too busy, so they snagged an empty table. Karen’s schedule meant they generally met on the later side for lunch, which had the benefit of thinner crowds.
“The special smells great,” Matt murmured to her after their server handed them menus.
“Noted,” she said conspiratorially. It didn’t happen all that often, but Matt making a comment like that meant she was in for a treat.
They both ordered the special, a Cuban dish that did sound delicious, and then got caught up in a good-natured argument about the book they were both reading — a memoir of a prominent New Yorker that was getting rave reviews.
“I just think he’s way too wordy,” Karen said. “He’s no Charles Dickens, so get to the point already.”
“Spoken like a true journalist,” Matt teased. “Maybe you should check out the audiobook, because I could listen forever. The narrator’s got an accent that makes me homesick and I still live here.”
She smiled. “You got me there.”
“Have you ever considered recording audiobooks? Because I would definitely pay for that.”
She laughed and blushed at the compliment. When Matt Murdock told you he liked listening to your voice, it wasn’t something you forgot. Especially when it happened for the first time in the middle of the workday, in front of other people, and you were expected to have the presence of mind to continue translating a rusty second language afterward.
“What you should do is record your articles,” he said. “That would be a great way to wake up in the morning.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Karen let the spark of it distract her from what her brain immediately flashed to — a lazy Sunday morning, reading the paper. To Matt. In bed. “We could do a podcast maybe, with a rundown of the day’s news.” She made a mental note to mention the idea to Ellison.
When their food arrived, Karen was glad to see Matt start eating right away. His appetite had steadily improved, and these days he didn’t show too many signs of sleeplessness. While Karen was sure they both still had Daredevil on the brain, she didn’t bring up the subject too often. Those conversations tended to go in circles. Matt said he was better now, and if she knew exactly why he called her late at night sometimes, she didn’t make a big deal about it.
(Though on the night he’d jokingly asked her what she was wearing, it had taken a very long time to fall asleep.)
As usual, the two of them got so caught up in conversation that Karen lost track of the time. She was giving Matt her best impression of the droning monotone of the mayor’s clearly-dead-inside flack when she realized she was overdue to get back to work.
Matt walked her there, twining his fingers through hers. They didn’t say much, and she thought maybe he was enjoying the sensation as much as she was.
Then he gave her hand a tiny squeeze and her mind was made up.
“We should have dinner soon,” she said when they reached the Bulletin.
“Yeah?” His face lit up.
“Yeah.”
“How about tonight?”
She laughed, feeling giddy. “I’m not sure if I can. I’m about to go out on assignment for another story I need to file today.”
Matt tilted his head. “Why don’t you come over when you’re finished? I’ll be working from home for the rest of the day. If it’s early enough, we’ll go out, or we can just order in.”
“OK,” she agreed quickly, before she could overthink it, and then bit her lip.
Matt leaned in closer, and this time, when their mouths met, it wasn’t so quick or so casual.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said breathlessly as they parted, tingling with the anticipation of more to come.
She’d waited so long, and she wanted this so much.
It was time to stop playing it safe.
“Hey, Page, got a sec?”
Karen made a beeline for Bart’s desk as she stepped back into the newsroom. She’d already been planning to check in with the metro editor on her story before heading out for the press conference she was covering.
“Is there a problem?” she asked. Bart had a kindly look about him, but he was prone to rants at the slightest provocation.
“No, the story looks great. I sent it on to the copy desk.” He lowered his voice. “But I think I should warn you about something. Jeremy has a new theory about Daredevil.”
Karen’s heart dropped into her stomach. She forced herself not to react outwardly. “Oh yeah?” she said, doing her best to sound casual.
Daredevil was a frequent source of discussion in the newsroom, with many reporters lamenting that he was no longer making their jobs more interesting and the streets safer. Usually, it was kind of gratifying, to know the real scoop when no one else did, to smile in secret when they tossed out their guesses and suspicions. Except when Jeremy from the metro desk started going on about his hunch that Daredevil was dead — that always made Karen’s blood run cold, even though she knew Matt was alive and well a few blocks away.
The fact that Bart felt the need to warn her about this latest theory was setting off sirens inside her.
But then Bart smiled, and his voice came out half-teasing. “He thinks you broke Daredevil’s heart and now the poor guy can’t even bring himself to parkour.”
Karen burst out laughing — and she didn’t need to fake it. “Where the hell did he get that idea?”
“Habiba did a followup with some of the other survivors from the cult kidnapping today. She wanted to ask how they feel about Daredevil being gone since then. And one of them mentioned that the very last thing he saw Daredevil do was touch the pretty blonde lady’s face.” Bart gave her a significant look. “What’s the story there?”
Karen shrugged, even as her pulse raced. “He wanted to make sure I was OK,” she said. “He worked a bit with Nelson and Murdock during the Fisk investigation, so he knew me a little. I did not break his heart.”
He broke mine.
“So where is he, then?” Bart asked.
“How should I know? Hopefully relaxing on a beach somewhere,” she said, keeping her voice even. “Or maybe he’s gotten better at covering his tracks.”
“I don’t think so.” Bart’s face turned grim. “Everything we’re hearing confirms the crime rate is ticking up again. The police blame it on the warmer weather, they say it’s just cyclical, but I think it’s more than that. The criminals aren’t afraid of the Devil anymore. They don’t think he’s coming back.”
“So you think…”
“It’ll get worse? Yeah. And soon.” Bart shook his head. “If you talk to your friend again, tell him the people of Hell’s Kitchen miss him. I hear it all the time.”
She smiled sadly. “I don’t think that’ll happen.”
Except of course it would. Tonight.
Karen walked away from Bart’s desk before her face could give anything away. Matt’s secret was a dangerous one, and not only that — if the newsroom knew that she had worked alongside Daredevil for months and never realized it, her rep as an investigative reporter would be shot.
She told herself that Matt’s blindness was an extremely effective deterrent against that kind of mental leap. But still, it seemed so very obvious now. Especially when she’d felt such a strong connection to him, no matter which of his disguises he was wearing.
It had meant so much to her, the night she was kidnapped, that the Devil seemed to care so much, that he singled her out for his attention. Despite the terror and the disgust that still haunted her, when she thought back to that one single moment, she’d felt stupidly pleased. And then Matt had brought the truth crashing down on her head, and she’d just felt stupid.
Shouldn’t she have recognized him from his lips alone? She’d spent enough goddamn time staring at them.
But it was dark, she reminded herself, and he was wearing fucking horns. And anyway, none of it mattered anymore. What was important now was that he’d finally trusted her with the truth — and that he’d decided to give it all up.
She understood, possibly more painfully than anyone else, that he had his reasons for that. And she didn’t exactly relish the idea of Matt back out there, putting his life on the line every night. But she’d also told him that Daredevil was good for the city, and she meant it.
The thing was, no one seemed happy about his decision to give it up. The criminals, maybe. But not Matt, and not her. Not Hell’s Kitchen. Locking the mask away hadn’t even ended Matt’s standoff with Foggy.
Karen didn’t blame Foggy for still being hurt. The end of Nelson and Murdock had been one spectacular crash and burn. If she hadn’t run into Matt at Josie’s unexpectedly, who knew how long it would have been before she’d been willing to reach across the wreckage. Months, probably.
But everything had changed again. And if she was done playing it safe when it came to dinner, maybe it was also time to stop playing it safe when it came to Daredevil.