1963-12-26 - The Morning After... It's Not What You Think!
Summary: Elektra wakes up in Foggy's apartment… it's not what you think!
Related: None
Theme Song: None
elektra foggy 


This was nice. It was the nicest Christmas that Foggy Nelson had, had in a very long time. When he woke up, he was sitting on the edge of the couch. His head was against the cushion, and he was not alone. There was a silky black head of hair against his shoulder. He was stiff, and ached a bit from sleeping in such a strange position, but still, he woke up smiling. He could smell her perfume, still strong even after all these hours. He didn't want to move, to wake her if she wasn't already. From his vantage, he couldn't see her eyes. But this was nice. Turning his head for a moment, he looked out the window. It was dawn. The sun was rising as it lit the skyscrapers in the background. He had been fortunate to get this apartment. He had an unusually good view. He would have gladly sat like this for days, if he could. He tried to savour the moment, remembering every little detail.


It has been a very long time since Elektra got a good, full night's sleep. Paranoia doesn't serve well for sweet dreams, and Elektra's life was one of rather constant paranoia. But after too much wine and even more whiskey, they'd both ended up dropping off on the couch with some stupid movie on the television. It was mundane, relaxing, and perfectly lovely. Dawn is also something she doesn't know, generally having the luxury of sleeping in unless she's directly on some sort of mission, so she's still deeply asleep against him. Her breath a slow, long pattern, body the heavy weight of rest. As he just slightly shifts, she does as well, turning against him to curl up closer to his chest. It's simply instinctively at this point.


This was wrong. She was Matt's ex. Foggy knew better. But right now, he didn't care. He had forgotten about that last night as the alcohol had interfered with his thought process. Now, he had sobered up after a good night's rest, even if it weren't the most comfortable of positions to sleep in. Still, somehow, it just didn't matter as much as it probably should when she instinctively curled up closer to his chest. He could feel her breathing against his shirt. It felt wonderful. He wasn't going to wake her up if he could help it. He just looked at her, and smiled, sighing softly. Could he actually have a chance with her? Could he do that to Matt? Should he even be contemplating such ridiculously farfetched dreams? Was this all some bizarre and strangely wonderful dream?


The quiet sound of his heart, a touch quicker for his thoughts and waking up, as well as the slight sigh from his lips is enough to trigger something in Elektra's head. She's not alone. She's not sleeping in her normal bed. Much is very different. That is enough to set off her paranoid mind that sleeping any longer is a poor idea. Her eyes immediately jerk open, breath jerking in fast, head picking up as she half panics in response to being in such a different area. It doesn't take long for last night to catch up to her, though, as she looks around the apartment and realizes where she is. She then turns her head, breath still a bit shallow from the sudden wake up, and looks up to him. "…Franklin. We… we must have… fallen asleep." She murmurs, voice thick with the last fingers of rest still.


Foggy was observational, but he had no special powers or skills in that regard. Mostly, it was only because he was focusing all his attention on her that he picked up any of her panicked initial reaction. He was calm throughout it, his heartbeat steady, as she lay against him. He looked down at her, glad that she recovered from her initial shock. "Good morning, Elektra. We did. It was nice." There was something in his blue eyes, which were unusually blue as they were lit by the sun that shone through the window. It was soft and kind. He liked her. He was showing the signs. "I only woke up a few minutes ago myself, or was it a few hours ago. I couldn't tell. But… it was nice."


The woman sits up the rest of the way now, slightly pulling back from him, a shiver cutting through her as her shoulder is now bared to the cool morning air instead of warm against his frame. He was really quite comfortable to sleep against, softer than Matt, more tender and warm. It had been beyond nice. But, she is now trying to put herself back together, piecing that professional wall back in place. She rubs one hand across her eyes then back through her hair, taking another deep breath as her back pops in a few places. "… It… Yes. Last night was… very nice. I didn't mean to keep you from your bed. I guess we were both rather… tipsy. I was going to find a hotel."


"On Christmas?" He asks, thinking about the people who have to work the desk. "That must be tough, spending the evening standing at a desk, waiting to see if anyone needs concierge, to check in, check out, all night…" Yeah, Foggy always thought about the little people. He was proud to be one himself. He was a little sad that she had pulled away from him, but that was only natural. "Hungry? I could make bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, sausage, pancakes, French toast, waffles, toast, cornflakes, what are you in the mood for?"


"I suppose. I would have tipped them well." Elektra always does, but then she's also the sort that thinks money fixes almost everything. She did not grow up one of the little people, that much is clear. She chuckles a bit at his sudden offer of a longer list of food than she's thought about in a long time. "… Uh… Coffee, would be nice… and whatever you normally make. I generally don't bother with breakfast. It's… annoying." And a bit depressing, to eat alone at home every morning. "… I should probably shower. I must look a mess. And smell like a liquor cabinet."


Maybe he's being a little self-conscious, but he offers, "hmm, coffee and croissant, maybe a bit of fruit sounds good to me." He normally ate heavier than that, but right now, he didn't want to come across as a guts. "It'll be nice to have breakfast with someone. I never get to eat breakfast with company, except when Matt and I go out for breakfast…" which wasn't very often given their finances. "And, for the record, you look even better than you did last night, and you smell wonderful. But if you don't want to take my word for it, my shower is the second door on the left. There're towels in the cupboard next to it."


A slightly sceptical smirk dances across Elektra's lips as he mentions that she looks better than last night. She arches a brow, shaking her head, "You are a funny man, Franklin Nelson. I slept all night on a couch and we both drank enough to kill a horse. But, I won't ever complain about a man cooking for me. If you want to start breakfast… and coffee. Please. Coffee." Coffee is life. "I won't be long, I promise." She then stands up, stretching out fully now, her back popping in a few places again. She stretches and moves like a cat, long and elegantly lean, all of her toned muscle. That done, she turns on the ball of her foot and moves towards the shower.


It's been far too long since a beautiful woman was naked in Franklin Nelson's apartment, and sadly, he wouldn't get to see it. But still, it happened. He's going to count it as a win and reset the proverbial clock on that personal note. He will get up after her, watching her go. He stared a little intently at her, enjoying the way she moves, every muscle, so perfect, so precise. She was a physical woman, her body a weapon. But, when she was finally out of sight, he would set himself about breakfast. He hadn't planned anything too nice today, so he has to check and see what he has on hand.

He had some strawberries, croissants, and perhaps because he was feeling a little hungrier, so he sliced an orange, placing a few on each white plate. He put the whole strawberries on the plate next to them. He took some lingenberry sauce, heating it up on the stove. It didn't take much, and then he poured some of it into the centre of some sliced strawberries. He set out the table for breakfast, with a cup of coffee for them, milk and sugar in case she needs it, and a extra glass of milk for him, as he loved to have it with his breakfast. Lastly, he ran to a reflective surface, trying to see how he looked after sleeping on the couch. He tried to get his hair just right, and was still doing that when she emerged.


A fast shower, just enough to freshen up and finish waking up far earlier than her normal time. Her hair is damp now, down her neck and shoulders. She's not brought a suitcase with her so she's back in the leggings and dress she wore last night, but all of her makeup is gone, leaving her a little less vivid than normal. But also slightly more vulnerable looking. Younger, somehow. It's like some of her armour is gone. She inhales deeply as she catches scent of that coffee, "… That… all smells amazing. And goodness, Franklin, you got… fancy, didn't you?" She asks, looking over the spread he's laid out with a wide smile.


When he saw her, some of the armour gone, showing herself as she naturally is, without the makeup, and her hair damp, he let out a simple, "wow." He was smiling and it was clear that he liked her as she was. "You really are stunning," he added, a rosy hue taking over his cheeks. "And yeah," he laughed a little, "I guess I just wanted to make a good impression. I did say I can cook, and I meant it." He was glad that she seemed to appreciate it. Hopefully the hot lingenberry sauce filling would really work with the croissants, and the fruit would be nice as well. He loved both oranges and strawberries. He pulled out a chair, but he didn't sit down. Awe, he was pulling it out for her.


Her complexion is a little too olive to easily show blush, but his commentary about her does make her eyes drop a moment, almost blushing, not really used to things like that being said in such a genuine, sweet manner. Yes, men often hit on her, but very few do it with such a kind heart. Almost innocence. "You… you are very nice to me, Franklin. Thank you." That's about all she knows in response to a compliment like that. She clears her throat gently, then, stepping the rest of the way into the kitchen to sit in that offered chair. "Too nice, truly… but the food looks wonderful." She takes the coffee first, black as night, nothing sweet in it.


"It's a good thing too, because I have no idea how it's going to taste. I… tried to be creative." He likes Lingonberry sauce, and Lingonberries, which are actually more of a Northern European thing. He gets his from the Pacific Northwest, and they aren't cheap. But it's Christmas, and he likes to have the good stuff at Christmas, plus, she was used to far nicer things than he could ordinarily provide. Still, he had never tried warm Lingonberry sauce inside a croissant before. Hopefully it worked out well.

With her seated, he moves around to sit on an adjacent corner to her. "I didn't know how you took your coffee, so there's milk and sugar. Sorry, I don't have any cream." He looks so sheepish about that last part. He didn't want to disappoint her. "I… I hope I'm not being too forward, but… would you like to go to Central Park with me?"


Accustomed to fine things, yes, but Elektra doesn't seem the snobbish sort to turn up her nose at someone's cooking when they have been nice enough to do so, especially to put on a nice spread. She reaches out, scooping up her coffee and taking a good drink of it before going for the croissants. Her motions are almost delicate, bird like, tearing the buttery pastry apart so she can dip it in the sauce and pop a small section past her lips. She makes a small, approving sound in her throat, nodding in clear enjoyment of the stuff as she goes back for a second piece. "… This is delicious. And I just take the coffee black. American coffee is never strong enough as it is." She grins, probably used to Turkish sludge. Then there is the question about the park, her head tilting, "I….I could. What would you care to do in the park?"


Foggy takes a slice of orange for himself while Elektra tries the croissant with the Lingonberry sauce. He beams at her when she seems to show signs of approval, and it widens into a wonderful grin at her compliment. His coffee claims to be from Costa Rica, but for all he knows, it was made in New Jersey. It does seem to certainly have caffeine in it, and it's the right colour. He then takes a sip of his milk, before having a piece of Lingonberry sauce and croissant. "Mmm, it is good." He adds, glad that his experiment paid off. "And, it's such a wonderful day. The shops will be absolutely packed, but I thought it might be nice to take a walk around the park. I know, it's not the most adventurous thing, but sometimes normal can be good." Though it did sound more like a date than a lawyer helping out a client.


A slow arch of her brow comes, certainly not used to just doing casual, relaxing things. Elektra's life has never been anywhere near casual like that. "Do you ask all your clients to walk with you in central park, hmm?" She inquires, slightly teasing, as it does rather sound like a date. She takes another bite of croissant, picking the whole thing apart in delicately dissected pieces with her red finger-nailed finger tips. "… And you just.. walk? You don't… get anything or… Do anything?" She is actually perplexed. Relaxing might be honestly confusing to her.


"Uh, no… I… no, um, this was the first." He really feels awkward when she brings up how she's a client of his. He really shouldn't be asking out a client. There has to be a rule against that. It's not ethical. He wasn't sure if she was teasing, but it hit him a little too close to home. He was after all something of a paragon of virtue. He really believed in morality and ethics. But he calms down before he makes a scene. "

You do at first. You might have a pretzel, or an ice cream cone. Or go skating. Or get in a horse and carriage. You just, go there, and do what comes natural. It's not planned, there's no goal, except to enjoy spending time with someone. It's great in the summer, and very beautiful in the winter… or so I'm told. I've, uh, not really had people, to you know, go with." He doesn't date much.


A slight chuckle escapes her lips as he explains what you do in the park. It seems almost surreal to her, so charming, so quiet. Things for romance movies or books, not something *she* does. But she's still smiling. She hasn't said no. "… You haven't? Goodness, Foggy, when was the last time you went on a date? What about that woman from college? The loud one? The blonde? She did not work out? You are… so sweet. And handsome. I cannot believe you don't have a row of women waiting for you." True, he wasn't handsome in the same way Matt was, but he was still handsome. A softer, more gentle handsome, like the sort of man who was built to be a husband or father.


"Uh, my last date…" he stammers, feeling nervous about it. "Well, two months ago," he admits, though sadly, the last time he slept with someone was considerably longer. He was cute, in a funny sort of way, and he could be very charming, but he did have trouble with the ladies. This was especially true as he was nearly always next to Matt Murdock. His partner looked good alone, but next to Foggy, Matt looked really good. He was always the wingman, never the pilot.

"And, no, that didn't work out. We're still frie…" Awe, he stayed friends with his former girlfriend, but he suddenly stopped talking in the middle of the word. Wait, did she say he was handsome? It suddenly dawned on him. "Handsome," he repeats, looking both scared, and proud. "Really, you think so?"


One last bite of the pastry and Elektra now just concentrates on her coffee, letting the mug hover nursed between her hands, warming cool fingertips against the brisk morning bite. She was a warm blooded woman, these northern winters never agreed with her at all, even if his apartment was decently heated and cosy. She chuckles as he stops his sentence to actually ask about the words she said, "Yes, of course. I would not say it if I did not mean it, Franklin. You are handsome… Charming. No, you are not like Matt, but that does not make you unattractive. You are… masculine in a way that a husband should be, or a father. It is… appealing, absolutely."


This was a lot to take in. There was certainly a level of confusion, as he now actively wondered if his hearing had been impaired, for he had just heard words that he would never have expected to be uttered by Elektra Natchios in a million years. There was panic and fear, as if she was genuine, he really didn't want to do anything to change those words. There was pride that she felt that way about him. His confidence level grew, but so too did his insecurity, which made him… well, his right hand was shaking, not terribly or violently, but more of a slight oscillation. He was having a hard time dealing with this. For a moment, he had forgotten the entirely of the English language as he said, "uh, mmm, ah, er, umm, oh, he, er… wow."


As he seems to almost have a break down, Elektra's head tilts and she stares at him just a bit deeper. She puts her coffee down, actually looking more than a bit concerned now. "Uh… Foggy? Are you alright? I should let you know, I am very good at killing people but not very good at CPR, so I'd rather you not have a heart attack right here…" She's only half joking. She's not used to someone being quite so affected by her words.


Foggy breathed in, then out, slowly. He swallowed and calmed himself. "I, I'm not used to women, as beautiful as you, calling me handsome, charming, masculine, husband and father material… wow." He repeats. "And no, I'm not going to need CPR. It just… took me by surprise. I mean, you, you're beautiful, rich, enchanting, engaging. You're positively delightful. I, wow, I… would very much like to take you on a date to Central Park." There, he said it. He had tried. He could at least say that to well, nobody, since he couldn't really tell Matt. Not yet anyway. Oh boy, how would he handle that if she said no? How would he handle it if she said yes?


"Well… You are. I mean, not that… I am looking for such things. I am certainly not wife, much less mother material… I am not even truly good dating material. You might wish to rethink your offer. I… I will only get you in trouble, Franklin. I warned you already, but it's true. I am not a good person… Not at all. Even walking out there, with me… It could be dangerous. Those people I left? They will eventually come looking for me. It is just a matter of time, of when, not if… And you will be a very pretty target to them, if we are close." Elektra's bare mouth folds into a slightly deeper frown as she thinks this through, studying his charming, and warm face. She looks truly worried for him now.


Foggy is practical by nature, so he says that "I'm not looking for that right now, the wife, or mother part. I'm only 24 years old. There is plenty of time for that." But he wasn't about to rethink his offer, especially if she was interested in accepting it. "Elektra, we've been through this. Yes, I know what you've done, I have an idea of who's after you, and I've said, I'm okay with that." The Hand, not that he knew them by name, didn't bother him. Her accepting an invitation to a date did. He was weird like that. Life or death situations, terrorists, bikers, killers, he could handle them. They were either going to kill him, or listen to reason, and there wasn't much he could do about that. But putting his heart on the line? That was tough. "Maybe… maybe I should just, um…"

He breathed in and out, trying to compose himself, and then he did something that probably surprised her. For one, he stood up. It was natural for him. He was going into lawyer mode, thinking on his feet, as if he were trying to convince a judge or jury. "Elektra, I like you, and you, for reasons that still elude my comprehension, you seem to like me. There would be obvious difficulties, given that you used to date my best friend. That's simply not done. But, back to my initial point, I like you. Now, there seems to be a group of people who are after you. They want you to return to your old life, and would be willing to do things, bad things, to convince you to return."

He walks around while talking, adding, "but I happen to know that if you're as good as they say, and I think, we both know that Matt is more than just a blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen. If this happened, I would have protection at work, and protection after hours. If someone's going to try and get to either of you, through me, they're welcome to try. I live with danger, perhaps not that kind of danger, but danger, every day. There's always someone who wants to get me for something. This, isn't really any different. I could be knifed in an alleyway by someone because of a case. I could be assassinated by some master ninja. I don't see a difference, except that it sounds like, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I might have a chance with you."


The woman watches him quietly, her head tilting to the side, curious, slightly amused, especially as she watches him go into lawyer mode like that. She can almost recognise it, the way his shoulders square off, the calm, eloquent points he makes one at a time. She is smiling just a bit more, not interrupting at all. She even scoops up her coffee to take a slow sip of it and enjoy the performance. "… Alright, Esquire. Goodness. I… did not expect an entire closing statement. But yes, fine. You have convinced me. A walk in the park, at least. I cannot promise what will happen tomorrow, or next week but… I can start with that."


He can argue in court, he can even be persuasive, though he's not sure how good that one was. It was entirely off the cuff. After all, less than twenty-four hours ago, he hadn't thought of Elektra in, well, quite some time. But she has accepted his invitation to the park, and they both knew it was an actual, real live, bonafide date. "Well, you did hire me as your lawyer. And I promise to always give you a vigorous legal defence." Though with her money, she could afford someone far more experienced, a legal team.

"I should shower as well… though, if you were thinking of checking into a hotel, and don't have any bags… what were you going to wear today?" He raises an eyebrow as it dawns on him, "how about a shopping trip, then Central Park?"


That makes her slightly chuckle, "I… I do have bags. They are just downstairs in the car. I hadn't planned on staying the night here so hadn't exactly brought them inside. Though… if you wish to go shopping, I can also do that. I should get you a Christmas present that isn't wine. Something actually nice. After you've been so kind." Elektra murmurs warmly, truly appreciative of this whole night. She's more relaxed than she's been in a long time, even if there is still a part of her worried and jumping at shadows.


"You could bring them up here if you wanted, change into some clean clothes, makeup, I'm sure there are things you'd want to do in the bathroom that, I just don't have, like brushing your teeth." Though he did actually have two toothbrushes in the bathroom. It was an old habit and a long story behind it. But he kept them together while at home. "You don't have to do that. Spending Christmas with you was already the best gift you could ever give me."


"I… I could probably bring one bag up. Just to change and finish putting myself together. You…You go shower. I'll be right back with the bag." Only one, so it is a reminder she's NOT staying the night here. She's not moving in. Just a bag to get some fresh clothes and, yes, brush her teeth. She gives him one last smile and then turns on the ball of her foot, heading for the door and where she left her boots. SHe dips over to slip into the knee high, black leather suede boots, zipping them up quickly before grabbing her jacket to shrug on. "Enjoy your shower. I won't be even five minutes." SHe calls back to him before disappearing out the door.


Foggy wasn't inviting her to move in. He was inviting her to use his facilities. She may even want another shower, since she put on dirty clothes after her last one. But he didn't take it as a slight. He does check her out for a moment as she works her way into those knee high heels. "Are you sure I can't carry up the bag for you, or accompany you to your car?" He knows she can look after herself, but it's the gentlemanly thing to do, and he adds, "besides, I could use the fresh air. I got… a little soapy back there, and not in the showering kind of way."


"… A little… Soapy? How do you get soapy without a shower?" While Elektra is mostly fluent in English, her accent is ever still clear and a reminder that it wasn't her first language. Certain phrases, especially less used ones, are lost on her. She finishes zipping up her boots and chuckles just a bit, "You are welcome to come, but I am more than capable of carrying my own bag. Even in these. Trust me, I've done far more difficult things in far higher heels." The life of an assassin.


"Uh, romantic… the, part about liking you, dating, you know…" She might not actually, given her experience. He gets his shoes on rather quickly, as he can slip into them and tie one lace on each. He offers his arm to her, like a gentleman, "I appreciate it, and I would love to accompany you, Elektra." Though, the mention of the difficult things, in higher heels has him blushing again. "I like a woman in heels…"


At the blush on his cheeks, she gives a little tsk sound and a slight laugh in the back of her throat. "You men. I was talking about killing someone, Franklin." Elektra casually tosses off, like murder used to be a daily part of her life. And, in truth, it was. She flashes him one more smile and then does take that arm, if he's not looking totally terrified, heading out the door with him and down the stairs to the street. She's hopefully not parked too far and, undoubtedly, has a street cleaning ticket on her overly flashly car already. Elektra wasn't really good at hiding out subtly.


He was already starting to accept her, well, past. Mostly, he was trying to think that she was joking, even though he was fairly certain that she was telling the truth. So, he only looked mildly terrified. And her smile softens his reaction. "Okay, from now on, heels are meant for walking on, and making guys tongue's wag. Probably mostly the tongue bit. No, um, killing. Or, only if they're really, really bad. Then, maybe… but probably not." Oh Foggy, he was trying to rationalise it, to bridge the gap. When he saw her car, he said, "wow, nice car." He didn't have one himself. But he'd help her with her bag. "Which one do you want to take?" He asked, though he would be fine with her bringing them all up if she had asked.


Since they are outdoors, she makes no more comments about killing, but there is a trace of doubt in her eyes. Could Elektra actually remove that from her life? She wasn't entirely certain. So, she quietly walks on to her Jaguar, a pure white colour, somehow clean despite the weather, bearing that parking ticket beneath the windshield wiper but somehow no one tried to break in through a window. She pops the trunk, exposing several bags and a few cases of who knows what. She just plucks at one, a smaller roller suitcase. "This is fine. It has anything I need." And she just as quickly shuts the trunk. He probably doesn't want to look too closely at some of those black cases. Undoubtedly, they were weapons. Guns, or worse. "And I *am* going to a hotel tonight."


Foggy was impressed with the car, but confused by her last comment. He didn't say anything about it though, not wanting to bring up a sensitive topic after she put such emphasis on it. It was just so odd to say when he hadn't said anything differently. He might have thought it, but could she read his thoughts? Besides, Foggy was not the kind of man to do, well, anything, on the first, or even second date. His plan was to wait as long as possible, so that the girl actually wanted him, was frustrated, confused, wondering if he even really liked her. Then, and only then, did he act. Which meant he acted very, very rarely.


He picked up the handle for the roller, "that looked like a lot of cases. Are you back in New York to stay?" He had hoped she would be. Was she only here for some life lessons from Foggy before setting off onto some new adventure? Or, could there be a future? He offered his free arm to her as they walked back towards his apartment, "this is nice… it's normal. Elektra, you're in for a world of the mundane, a life of mediocrity. Baby, this is the average." He was saying it all with a smirk, obviously joking.


"… I may go insane, I shall warn you. I do not know if I can take… Mundane. But I will try." Elektra admits with a slightly wry smile, slipping her arm back into his and letting him escort her back up inside. She's mostly joking — mostly. There was a part of her which was scared she'd end up bored out of her mind. "And… I cannot go back to Europe right now. They will more easily find me there. I… I don't really have anywhere else to go. Anyone else to… be near. At least you are here. Matthew. I have… something here. This was my home once. Perhaps I can make it again."


He was enjoying it, loving it really, right up until she mentioned Matt's name. Matthew I have. She said Matthew I have. It was an odd sentence, but with her accent, he forgave such things. He tried not to let his heart sink at those words, to try and remain upbeat. "It's not… not that bad. And, I really wouldn't call my life mundane. It's normal, maybe a bit more than normal, but, it's a good life." Not fast cars and fine wines, but it was a good life. He inhaled deeply. "You will like New York. I'm here… and so is Matt." Though, he did wonder how she felt about Matt, how Matt felt about her. He had a nice little dream there, for a while, before reality and his own insecurities came crashing down upon him.


Of course, she had finished that sentence in her own head. Elektra cannot read minds, or his insecurities, so she walks along side of him casual and comfortable, without worry that she's sent him spinning. "I… did like New York. I was happy here, once. In school. When I thought things could be normal. But it didn't last. It never lasts…" Elektra frowns slightly, her own worries mirroring there. The doubt that she can actually go through with things this time.


"It can," he says. "I remember reading somewhere that a river cuts through rock, not because of its power, but because of its persistence. And, I have plenty more wisdom where that came from. Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try." He winked at her, as he opened the door to his apartment, holding it open for her. "You've made that decision. You just have to try and keep at it. I know you can, and I'll be here, to help you every step of the way… if you want me." And, yeah, Matt. He's fairly certain that she would rather be with Matt.


Back to his apartment. His cosy, homey, smallish (in her world), ever so comfortable apartment. That smells like coffee and sweet sauce now. It smelled like a home. Elektra breathes in deep as they walk back inside; taking in that comfort she hasn't really had in a very long time. "Yes… but I made that decision before and… Life interfered. It is even harder now. I have made promises to… very bad people, promises I will not be keeping. I know you are here to help. And I… I came here, didn't I? I do want that help. Need it. I just… I still worry that I have brought awful things to your doorstep."


"Elektra, there is absolutely nothing out there that you could bring to my doorstep that would tip the balance against the fact that you showed up on my doorstep." He smiles to her. That was soapy. But it also had the virtue of being sincere. He paused, closed his eyes, then opened them to see her. He made eye contact and held it. "I… have to shower, but, I'm afraid that you'll slip out while I'm in there. I just don't want this, night, morning, afternoon, I'm not really sure what this is, but I don't want it to end. Is it New Year's Eve yet?"


That last question gets him a slightly pointed look, "It's the day after Christmas. You're about a week early. But… go shower. I won't disappear, I promise. If… if I decide to go, decide this is a bad idea? I promise I will respect you enough to let you know. Tell you face to face. It is the least I can do after how kind you have been, Franklin." Elektra reaches up, daring to trace a few fingertips against his cheek, both meant to be reassuring and a bit tender. "But shower. I need to change. And put on actual make up so I look actually like a person and not a mess. Then we will take this walk of yours…"


They were from such different worlds. Hers was real, harsh, even cruel, while his was far more fluid, imaginative, and kind. And she seemed, to him at least, to want to live in his world, rather than her own. He respected her reply. It filled him with hope. And the caress of his cheek, that was incredibly reassuring. She made contact with him. He had hugged her. He had touched her arm. But this was the first time that she had initiated physical contact. He loved it. "Okay," he said, not pulling his face away until she let her hand drift downwards. Then, he'd bow his head, and turn around, heading for the shower.

He showered fairly quickly. He always had. So it may have surprised her when he popped out of the bathroom wearing a towel around his waist. All his clothes had been in his bedroom, so he had to make the towel dash. And, amazingly, he covered his chest with his hands, as best he could, as he tried to slip unnoticed into the bedroom.


Hearing the bathroom door open, Elektra's brows arch from where she's perched on the couch doing make up in a small mirror. She looks up and over to him, as he covers himself like that in a towel, and she just laughs warmly. Not mockingly. He was so charming. "… It is nothing I have not seen before, Franklin." She calls out behind him, but then goes back to her mirror. She did take the opportunity, while he showered, to change quickly into a different gray dress, fresh under things, and stockings.


Foggy calls out from the bedroom, "I know, but… I don't know, I guess I'm just old fashioned. I don't want you to see it, until you… want to see more." She could probably see him blush straight through the wall. His cheeks were red enough to shine through the paint, drywall, and all the guts, or at least, it seemed that way to him. A few moments later, he will emerge wearing a dark grey suit, light purple shirt, and dark purple tie. He did look good in a suit. It wasn't casual, but at least it matched her dress more. He didn't have a lot of sophisticated clothes that weren't suit-related. "And, you look incredible. Though, you did without the makeup too. You really did. I mean it, you really look good without it." He wanted to make sure that she understood, it wasn't a line, or an exaggeration. She was stunning without it, and breathtaking with it.


Her hair combed out, make up now fully in place, Elektra looks far more her quiet, dangerous self from previous years. It's like she put her armour back on with that make up. She gives him a warmer smile, however, and dips her head a bit in almost embarrassment as he comments on her makeup. "I… I suppose. It is still habit. I prefer to wear it. It is like putting on… well, like wearing armour for the world. So you don't show them the real you. It is more safe, that way."


"Elektra, you are beautiful without makeup, but with it, you are magnificent. It accentuates and draws attention to what lies beneath. Call it what you will, armour, makeup, but whatever it is, just remember that it's you underneath." He made a bit of a face. "I, oh um, I've probably been. I mean, I didn't mean to… that's what I mean by soapy. It's, yeah. And that wasn't meant as a lesson."

"Shall we?" He asks, gesturing towards the door, and presumably, the park. He looked good in his own suit, with his hair styled the way he liked. He was clean shaven. His breath smelt good. Though he probably needed to start buying nicer suits. It was off the rack.


"You are, indeed, soapy." Elektra confirms, half smirking, half smiling, but her eyes are amused in their softness. She doesn't seem offended by it, even if she doesn't quite seem to know how to handle it. "But, thank you. You are… incredibly sweet to me, already. And you are looking quite dapper today. Suits are a good look on you." She doesn't seem to mind his suit, not going to judge his fashion choices when it fit him well enough for court. He was far from sloppy. She then tips her head in affirmation, "Yes, let's." And allows him to lead the way out the door.

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