Wanting What You Can't Have
You often have trouble navigating social interactions, but Karen has always been a good buffer. After meeting her co-workers, you think you leave the office with a mutual understanding, but Matt Murdock has never known good communication.
wc: 2200
(gonna be so honest i have no idea where im going with this- lemme know if its even worth another part) part two :0
A handwritten sign is taped askew on the translucent window in front of you. “Nelson & Murdock Attorneys at Law” is proudly proclaimed in thick Sharpie. At least the penmanship isn’t bad. Unable to help yourself, you peel a portion of the sign off, then smooth it so it sits straight. When you talked with Karen over the phone, she said to let yourself in. Tentatively, you nudge the door open and find a quaint office. It's cute in the ‘we’re extremely broke, but are managing to live in New York’ kind of way.
Karen’s head pops up from behind her computer. Spotting you, she’s all smiles. “Hey, you! Come in, come in.” After a few more keyboard taps and mouse clicks, she pries herself from her computer and beacons you for a hug, and you are more than happy to oblige. “God, you’re freezing. Do you want any coffee or hot chocolate?”
You unwind your scarf and sigh dreamily. “A hot chocolate would be amazing.”
“I can get that for you, but I’ll let Matt and Foggy know you’re here. Give me just a second.”
You spin in a slow circle, taking in the plain but lived-in environment. “Take your time; I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Smiling, she teases, “Well, once you meet them, I hope you have the same opinion.” She struts to an office on the left with closed blinds and murmurs. Gingerly, you tuck your skirt to the back of your thighs as you sit in one of the three waiting chairs. It’s impressive just how uncomfortable it is. While you debate whether you should stand back up, your friend moves to the other office with open blinds. A blond man sits, immersed in his work. You watch Karen’s knock and message transform his focused, furrowed brow to a friendly demeanor. He smiles, nods, then gets back to work.
Karen ushers you into the conference room; this chair is much more comfortable than the previous one. She reappears with your hot chocolate a minute later and settles into a rolley chair to your left. None of the chairs match. It’s cute. Quietly, she expresses, “Thanks for doing this, I really appreciate it.” She fiddles with the handle of her own mug.
Ripples of chocolate flow as you blow across the hot surface. “It really isn't a problem, Karen. I hope I can help.” Easy knocks announce the incoming company.
Mr. Nelson walks in first, with Mr. Murdock on his heels. Foggy is chipper and greets you by name. Matt smiles and shuffles behind him to the other chair. “Thanks for helpin’ us out with this.” He stands behind his chair across from you and extends his hand.
Shaking Foggy’s hand, you respond with ease, “Don't thank me yet, Mr. Nelson.” His rebuttal is quick, “Foggy, please.” You nod at Matt as he settles in across from Karen. “Mr. Murdock, nice to meet you.” His response is just as sudden: “Call me Matt.” Legal pad and pen poised, Karen is ready to begin. The four of you collectively scooch in and begin to talk.
Thumbing your own notes, you ask, “From my understanding, this is regarding a family member of one of your clients, a Mrs. Maya Hernández García?” Karen’s call came quite last-minute on Monday, but as she explained the situation at work, you jotted down a bit of what was going on.
Foggy nods. “Yeah, we were wanting to get her daughter, Isabella, some help regarding situations at school, and Karen suggested that your social worker's eyes could give us some guidance.”
The plastic pen flicks between your fingers. “Well, let’s go over the situation at hand.”
A few minutes into the meeting you pass a copy of a community tutoring center near the child's school. As you hand the papers to Karen and Foggy, you're ashamed to admit, “I know I'm here to make sure Isabella’s needs are met, but ironically, Matt, I don't have any materials to accommodate your needs, so I apologize. I'll do my best to describe what I'm passing out. Please let me know if you feel confused or excluded.”
As you speak, you set your hand out on the table in a gesture meant to assure Matthew about your sincerity, causing your rings clink against the oak table. The sound must help him find the approximate location, because he gingerly pats the top of your hand in acknowledgement. It makes you feel squirmy and your heart beats faster.
Matt has a soft smile and reassures you, “I think you're being wonderfully accommodating. Besides, not a lot of people have a braille printer at home, so, no worries.”
Foggy stares at Matt's hand on top of yours with glazed eyes and gives a slight disappointed shake of the head. You're not quite sure what to do with that. Removing your hand from under Matt's, you leaf through the papers you anticipate going through.
And again, about halfway through the meeting you encounter the first accessibility roadblock (besides the lack of braille documents). You ask, “Matt, I have a graph laid out. Would you like me to describe it?”
Comfortable and confident in his chair, Matt's folded hands sit against his diaphragm, but his thumbs expand outward, indicating the go ahead. Another slight smile encourages you. "Please. I like listening to you talk.” A muted ‘thunk’ sounds and Matt's face crinkles for a moment.
Karen definitely kicked him in the shin. You pretend not to notice and continue on. “Uh, okay. Well-”
Closing up the conversation, you reflect internally. It was easier to understand the tone when someone rolled their eyes or shook their head. It may be ironic to be a school social worker who struggled with social cues, but kids were kids. And most kids are blunt and unabashedly themselves. Adults are different. Oftentimes, they do the opposite of what they say. So, you’re not quite sure you understood all the cues that expired over the hour.
Bullet points of necessary materials, resources, and potential professional connections were plotted. Eventually, a rough draft of the plan was configured. However, throughout the meeting, you had trouble discerning some of Mr. Murdock’s comments.
The four of you funnel out of the conference room and linger in the ‘lobby’. Karen steals your empty mug and set it in the small kitchenette. She passes by and points. “Don’t leave just yet, I need to go to the bathroom, and then we’re discussing dinner plans.”
You nod and reply in a dramatic, weary voice, “Yes, ma’am.” Her heel clicks become quieter.
A small internal battle wages. Should I do it? I’m gonna do it. Okay. C’mon. Just do it. Clearing your throat, you turn towards Matt, who stands in his office threshold. Bravely, you ask, “Matt, I have a couple of questions. Would you mind meeting with me really quickly?”
Masking is tiring, but also a tool. Your calm and somewhat chipper demeanor doesn’t bring any anxiety to the common phrase of, ‘Can we talk?’ You pride yourself on that.
Grinning, Matt gestures into his office, “No, that should be fine. Please,” He has a good smile.
You watch him walk through the doorway and nudge the door, but he doesn’t latch it fully. Matt sits in his chair, softly spinning side-to-side with his hands folded in his lap. Oh shoot, I’m totally gonna embarrass myself. Or him. What if he thinks I’m stupid? Or weird? Shit. “What can I do for you?” Biting your lip in thought, you choose to close the door fully.
Taking a deep breath, you ask, “I’m sorry if this is odd, but I was wondering if I was reading the room correctly; were you flirting or being friendly?”
He stops suddenly. His jaw drops slightly, and his entire body straightens. You notice that within his folded hands, his thumb brushes against the other. Self-soothing. Oh, I messed up. Before you can backtrack, he admits, “Ah, uh…a bit of both.” He clears his throat. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”
Exhaling, you reassure him, “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just sometimes have trouble understanding if people say what they mean, mean what they say, ya know?” A few nervous chuckles titter out. Your fingers fidget: uncomfortable in the situation you created for yourself. “But I wanted to make sure we both understood that this was a professional matter.”
Emphatically nodding, he agrees, “Yes, of course, I apologize."
Fanning a hand between your bodies, you attempt to explain. “This wasn’t to embarrass either of us; I just wanted to make sure I understood. I would still very much like to work with Nelson and Murdock in the future.”
Matt stays quiet, but nods with a small smile. You interpret his silence as understanding. Your rings clink against the door handle, but you pause. In an earnest voice, you say, “I’m sorry if this was weird, but I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Thank you for being willing to clear that up for me. I appreciate it.”
He looks like a bobble-head. I totally made this weird. Matt nods and happily responds, “It wasn’t odd. Any time you need clarification, please ask.” And that lifts a weight off your chest.
“Thanks, Matt. Have a good day.” Opening the door, you hear his soft reply behind you, “You too.” You leave Matt’s door open just a tad and jump when Foggy stumbles against his own office door, trying to pretend he’s not panting.
Your warm cable-knit scarf winds around your neck. “You okay?” Foggy gives a thumbs up and a dopey smile. It’s infectious; you smile back. “Nice to meet you, Foggy. Have a good one.”
He’s winded but says, “Same to you!” in an enthusiastic tone. Just then, Karen walks back in. She dries her hands on her cardigan and grumbles about the lack of paper towels. Your phone buzzes, and you curse softly.
Trudging forward, you hug Karen and sadly report, “I totally forgot, but I need to get going, or I’m gonna be late for an appointment. I’m sorry, Kare.” She squeezes you back, then pulls away.
“No worries. We can plan dinner for next week?”
Slipping your gloves and hat back on, you agree. "Perfect. Give me a day and time, and we’ll go from there.” Patting her arm, you shift and call out, “Nice to meet you guys!” The office door closes.
Matt crumples forward in his seat, groaning. Your footsteps become quieter with each flight taken. Foggy smashes his office door open and explodes, “Hell, yes! Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”
Karen hesitantly walks to the two of them, full of confusion. "What? What’d I miss?” Matt’s soon-to-be ex-best friend is in his own world, laughing it up. And there’s no way Matt is about to volunteer an explination. Karen isn’t pleased with the lack of an answer. Groaning, she flings her hair from her face. “Damn it, I leave for two minutes and you fucked something up, didn’t you?
Foggy is still in awe, “That was beautiful. Honestly? I’m in love with her. We’re so working with her for every case all the time, right?”
Craning her head to the ceiling, Karen grumbles, “What happened? Matt, what did you do?”
He flings his gaze up. “Why do you think I did something?” Foggy and Karen’s heads whip to him at a concerning speed, pausing and staring. Matt puts his face in his hands. “Leave me alone.”
Annoyance evolves into frustration. Karen cries, “What happened?”
Matt points at Foggy and hisses, “He had his ear pressed against the door!”
Smugness drips off of Foggy’s each and every word, “And you know what? I am so thrilled that I did. Because I was able to be a part of that beautiful interaction.”
Matt rebuts, “Eavesdropping does not make you a part of a conversation.”
Karen erupts, “Oh my god, tell me!”
Between giggles, Foggy tattles, “She asked if he was flirting and then told him not to!” In quick succession, Karen exclaims, “No!” and Foggy, “Yes!” Karen’s hands fly to her mouth, desperately trying to rein in an overflowing laughter.
Attempting to salvage literally any part of his ego, Matt relents, “Okay, well, she didn’t say that exactly. Besides, it’s not even a big deal; you’re freaking out over nothing!” The trio manages to find their equilibrium when Matt pats down his tie and asks, “I wasn’t harassing her, was I?”
Foggy slumps into Karen’s office chair and catches his breath. "No, but you were laying on the Murdock charm pretty damn thick, and she called you out.” He spins in the chair with childish glee. “God, I can’t wait to work with her.”
Karen perches on the only empty space on her desk. “Besides, she's not even Matt's type. She's wise, ethical, doesn't have questionable characteristics and–”
Matt groans and closes his door. With his hands on his hips, he contemplates, but still hears snickers. He can’t help but grin and shake his head.
He’s all too aware of new desires. Now that he knows he can’t have it, he's become curious. He wants to know more. Its like dangling a bone in front of a dog, but telling it not to bite, not to reach, not to pursue. Christ. Self-control is a difficult thing for Matthew.
