“You won’t,” Karen answers with a smile. Neither of them want him calling her if he needs someone with a gun on his side. She doesn’t particularly want to hunt down criminals, and she does her best to not encourage Frank or Matt to keep at it. Not that either of them listen, but she at least says her piece. The gun’s for self defense. She uses it when she needs it.
She finishes her stretch and leans back, resting her palms on the mat as she watches him. “You know, when you say I can call if I’m worried, or if I need something...this is always what I’ve needed. You to trust that I know what I’m doing and to support me in doing it.”
It's a little bit of a tall ask, given her mixed feelings about his own particular brand of derring do. But despite the dangers of vigilantism and her general sense of disapproval, she's still not going to turn her back on him when he needs her.
Yeah. He probably won't. She's got him there. Matt isn't much for partners in his nightlife, especially since the last time he'd accepted one, she'd been killed on a rooftop. He doesn't want that for Karen, and for all his willingness to take a hit or twenty, it really doesn't extend to putting Karen in the same kind of danger. He's teaching her how to defend herself, but Matt isn't planning on grooming her into being the blonder version of Daredevil. It's an uncomfortable reality between them, because he knows she doesn't love the danger he puts himself in, that she would much rather he wouldn't risk himself or at least, risk himself alone.
They both have some uncomfortable grappling with the other walking headfirst into danger, hating it and knowing it's for good reason at the same time. It's not the best thing to have in common, though as awkward as their rekindled friendship can be, he wouldn't change it. For all its flaws.
"My dad used to say, it's not that I don't trust you. It's that I don't trust anyone else in this god forsaken town." There's a sad quirk of a smile that always comes from referencing his father. He finally sits up properly, instead of lazing on the mats in a sweaty heap. It seems a more proper posture for serious conversation. "I know what it's like, to need to fight back in any way you can. I'm not sure I have it in me to like it, but I get it." If she ever decides to retire to the Hamptons, though, he's not going to argue too hard about it.
It’s a good thing he doesn’t want to train her up to be a blonder Daredevil, because she absolutely does not want that either. But she’ll be happy to be better prepared, when a situation inevitably turns south. They have a way of doing that. And she can’t fathom turning her back on what she can do to help any more than he can. The eternal stalemate.
It always catches her attention when he talks about his dad. She can still feel the wound of it, in the way that those hurts from losing your family never really go away. Something she’s uncomfortably familiar with. They probably have more in common than either of them are prepared to admit, even on a good day.
“I could say the same to you,” she answers, finally climbing to her feet. “Maybe we both need to worry more about supporting each other when we can and less about talking each other off of ledges.” Her mouth quirks in a quick little half smile. “Literally, in your case.”
She'd look great in the horns, it's a shame she's turning down that legacy... but let's be real it'd be over his dead body. His heart would probably give out in the stress. He's already got a hard time with the investigative journalism, who knew that was such a dangerous occupation!!! Why can't she be investigating the Puppy Bowl, or what sort of card games are played by old people in Central Park?
It's an old wound. It's been decades now. Still, even though he's gotten to the point he can talk about his father without choking up or blowing up (both common problems when he was a kid), it doesn't mean it's entirely healed. Knowing Matt, it probably never will, but it's progress to be able to talk about it. And if she ever feels like talking about her losses... well, he's got her back on that, too. Not just learning karate.
It really cements her point that she occasionally has to talk him down from whatever position he's parkoured to when he kips up to his feet instead of just standing up like a normal person. He's a complete showoff. "Yeah, maybe." Did he really just concede a point? Better go get some lottery tickets, Karen, a blue moon must be turning. Though Karen is classically gifted in making Matt concede points, being about the only other person in his life about as stubborn as he is.
Karen knows she’s a tough nut to crack when it comes to her past. It’s just that there’s no one thread she can pull without unraveling it all. The diner, her family, the crash – it’s all forever caught up in knots in her head. Maybe one day she’ll be able to tease it out. Maybe one day her father will be capable of looking her in the eye. And maybe Matt will hang up the horns.
In short: it’s a whole lot of things that would probably be for the best, but are wildly unlikely to come to pass.
There’s an amused look on her face as she watches the way he gets to his feet. And then he answers her and her brow lifts in interest. Her hands rest on her lips. “Let the record show that the counsel just ceded a point to his very smart colleague.”
Sharing sad pasts has to be a part of their social link, at some point. They will get there, one piece at a time. Considering Matt will talk about his father but not how he died for refusing to throw a fight in his son's honor, he's got some room to grow on that front. They both have past secrets they're slow to share, though it's a part of them whether they talk about it or not. Sooner or later the past has a tendency to claw its way to the surface, wanted or not.
"Duly noted," Matt says dryly, though there's a twist at the corner of his mouth that indicates a smile that he refuses to let creep any further than a restrained smirk. Yeah, he earned that one, and it was pretty funny, but his pride refuses to allow him to admit it openly. "Come on, let's get out of here, very smart colleague." They need to hit the showers, and maybe scare up some dinner. Maybe not in that order.
They have more in common than they know or will admit - to each other, and probably even to themselves. But it's part of the reason that their friendship endures despite all their quarreling and ideological differences.
"I promise I won't gloat. Much," she promises with a grin.
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no subject
Date: 2019-11-21 03:28 am (UTC)She finishes her stretch and leans back, resting her palms on the mat as she watches him. “You know, when you say I can call if I’m worried, or if I need something...this is always what I’ve needed. You to trust that I know what I’m doing and to support me in doing it.”
It's a little bit of a tall ask, given her mixed feelings about his own particular brand of derring do. But despite the dangers of vigilantism and her general sense of disapproval, she's still not going to turn her back on him when he needs her.
no subject
Date: 2019-11-27 03:30 am (UTC)They both have some uncomfortable grappling with the other walking headfirst into danger, hating it and knowing it's for good reason at the same time. It's not the best thing to have in common, though as awkward as their rekindled friendship can be, he wouldn't change it. For all its flaws.
"My dad used to say, it's not that I don't trust you. It's that I don't trust anyone else in this god forsaken town." There's a sad quirk of a smile that always comes from referencing his father. He finally sits up properly, instead of lazing on the mats in a sweaty heap. It seems a more proper posture for serious conversation. "I know what it's like, to need to fight back in any way you can. I'm not sure I have it in me to like it, but I get it." If she ever decides to retire to the Hamptons, though, he's not going to argue too hard about it.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-02 06:22 pm (UTC)It always catches her attention when he talks about his dad. She can still feel the wound of it, in the way that those hurts from losing your family never really go away. Something she’s uncomfortably familiar with. They probably have more in common than either of them are prepared to admit, even on a good day.
“I could say the same to you,” she answers, finally climbing to her feet. “Maybe we both need to worry more about supporting each other when we can and less about talking each other off of ledges.” Her mouth quirks in a quick little half smile. “Literally, in your case.”
no subject
Date: 2019-12-12 02:28 am (UTC)It's an old wound. It's been decades now. Still, even though he's gotten to the point he can talk about his father without choking up or blowing up (both common problems when he was a kid), it doesn't mean it's entirely healed. Knowing Matt, it probably never will, but it's progress to be able to talk about it. And if she ever feels like talking about her losses... well, he's got her back on that, too. Not just learning karate.
It really cements her point that she occasionally has to talk him down from whatever position he's parkoured to when he kips up to his feet instead of just standing up like a normal person. He's a complete showoff. "Yeah, maybe." Did he really just concede a point? Better go get some lottery tickets, Karen, a blue moon must be turning. Though Karen is classically gifted in making Matt concede points, being about the only other person in his life about as stubborn as he is.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 02:49 am (UTC)In short: it’s a whole lot of things that would probably be for the best, but are wildly unlikely to come to pass.
There’s an amused look on her face as she watches the way he gets to his feet. And then he answers her and her brow lifts in interest. Her hands rest on her lips. “Let the record show that the counsel just ceded a point to his very smart colleague.”
wrap here possibly? ?
Date: 2019-12-25 04:08 am (UTC)"Duly noted," Matt says dryly, though there's a twist at the corner of his mouth that indicates a smile that he refuses to let creep any further than a restrained smirk. Yeah, he earned that one, and it was pretty funny, but his pride refuses to allow him to admit it openly. "Come on, let's get out of here, very smart colleague." They need to hit the showers, and maybe scare up some dinner. Maybe not in that order.
perfect! /scene
Date: 2019-12-27 12:09 am (UTC)"I promise I won't gloat. Much," she promises with a grin.