fightlikehell | call in sick

He lets her appreciate at any available time. Sometimes for hours with his working with hers.

Upstairs now is where they must go. And he lives in the breaths and heartbeats that match so well with the songs on her lips. All of this is temporary, he wants to look back on today and think of how wonderful her care is for him, not about how the sickness had come so fast and about ruined him in a few days. Can't be all that bad when cuddles will be at the end.

"Got it," he swallows and rests his head. "keys and all." The least he can do. "Oh darling, please if you need me to walk any, I can." That's a lot of flights anyway. She is strong and capable. "You're getting a trophy today."

And she appreciates how generous he is.

These troubles will pass. He'll be on the mend soon, and the memories of gentle love will overshadow the memories of discomfort and pain. She's determined to see it go that way, through sheer quantity if needs be.

Once she's got them out of the cab, it's smooth going. Her gait is even and easy, and she's careful to not rock of jolt him. "No need, my love. I've got you." He can handle the locks, and she'll take care of everything else. She rewards herself for reaching each landing by nuzzling his hair. "Mm, I've got you. What more could I need?"

Finally, finally! They're safe at home. She nudges the door shut behind them with her foot before carrying him into the living room to deposit him on the large plush chaise lounge they love to snuggle in. "Here we are, my love. Home again, safe and sound." Once he's down she leans over to give him the soft kiss they've both been wanting. "You going to be okay here while I get some things?"

There's so much in the touch of her hand that makes him feel emotions and sensations. He wouldn't want to deny that to either of them. Some days don't feel complete without her presence even if they do talk on the phone. At least then he knows that she's there in the world.

"Bless your heart." It comes out unbidden. All those steps and she's still going. Matt nuzzles back and murmurs his thanks and love. "You got me, that's all I need." And maybe air. There's plenty of that though. She's really in fit form now if she wasn't before.

Finally placed to sit Matt still reaches to pull her close for that soft kiss. His head and stomach are a mess. It's not one of his better ones but the effort is there. "I love you, I'll be fine here waiting for you." Because he's going to remove his shirt to try to cool down more. Shoes too if is up to leaning down again.

"Bless my heart?" Ver laughs at that, pausing to lean against a wall and adjust her hold on him. "What the hell did I do to deserve that, honey? I thought I was doing good."

Yes, she is super fit. He should have already known that; he's had plenty of time to explore.

Ver doesn't resist when he pulls her in, only trying to balance herself so she doesn't end up sprawled over him. Tempting as that is... maybe later. Any kiss from him is better than anything without him. She keeps the kiss light, simple, undemanding. Now is not the time for either of them to start wanting too much. "I love you too." She kisses the tip of his nose before straightening up again.

First thing she does is put on the record she'd told him about. Then she puts on the kettle and gets the toast started. Spotting him undressing, she'll go get him some pajamas to change into, and heck, might as well change into her own while she's at it. Then she circles around to him again, setting his jammies next to him before she kneels to handle his shoes and socks. "Let me, love. I brought you some pajamas. I'll take these and wash them, just in case."

"No, no," he protests softly and reaches to pet wherever he knows her head is. "I mean that. Bless you because you're doing this. No other meaning meant." There's no way he'd imagine anyone doing this single-handedly. Claire needed Santino's help way back when. A lack of blood and trauma do make this easier for both parties.

Super fit is usually appreciated with no clothes and a different kind of physical activity. This is a more involved feat. He still admires her for what she can do.

Listening to the familiar sounds around them below the new record are soothing. Rustle of fabric and Verity's footsteps and steady heart. Everything's going to be okay for sure if there was any remaining doubt before. (There wasn't.) Matt stills when she comes back. Again he reaches for her to touch her shoulder, her arm. "Thank you, honey. I'm still dizzy. Do my feet look different? Maybe it's an allergy?"

Verity sighs at the pets, tilting her head into them. "I know. I'm used to more passive-aggressive uses of the phrase." Claire's an amazing woman, but she hasn't spent the last year training with Samus. And Verity's got a secret weapon: the power of love. Yes, that sounds cheesy af, but it's true. Loving him makes it easier to do these things.

She'll pay for it tomorrow.

His hand gets a kiss when it passes near her face and she nuzzles his arm affectionately. "Your feet look fine, honey, but I'll check more carefully if you want. Tell me if anything feels sore or odd, okay?" Ver sits on the floor and takes one foot in her hands, running her fingers over it and looking for signs of anything being wrong. Swelling, bruising, discoloration...

"Think you could stomach a potion? I've got a cure disease that might help."

They've long got over the simple fact that there are going to be cheesy moments. Matty wouldn't trade them for everything. It's a fixed part of his day like working, patrol, time with her, if it isn't cheesy, exceedingly cheesy then there's something amiss. And the power of love is nothing to be sniffed at. It does amazing things. More amazing than lifting a thirty year old, blind vigilante.

Tomorrow she's getting the pampering. He already decided if he's well enough.

He smiles lightly. Laying back and resting is starting to have everything settle. He lazily drapes an arm over his stomach and finds patting it a little feels...good. "Ooh, that feels good actually. Mmm." Her fingers and pressure there. Matt breathes in slowly and exhales slowly.

A potion wouldn't be a bad idea. It's worked before, right? "I'm game. And maybe I just need to throw up, you know? Get a clean start on the inside. I had breakfast with you. Left overs for lunch. Coffee. Pita chips. Nothing---" Matt stops thoughtfully.

She kinda loves the cheesy moments. Feeling safe enough to let anyone know that side of her is an amazing thing. The fact he seems to enjoy it makes it all even better. She loves every silly, cheesy thing he does. The single flower he brings home to her. The mornings he wakes her up by reciting poetry. The way he sings in the shower. The candies he sneaks into her purse for her to find at random points during the day.

A day of pampering would be lovely.

Ver smiles to see him relaxing. Sometimes, just being home helps so much. "Yeah? Maybe what you need is a foot rub." She doesn't wait in putting thought to deed. She'll start with his ankles and work her way down to his toes, one foot and then the other.

"That's possible," she allows. He gets a moment to think when he stops talking before she prompts, "What? What is it?"

Oh it is amazing and precious to him. Matt has been nurturing every quirk like a fledgling plant with more sunshine and water. Sometimes he'll hide small prizes for her flowers pressed in her books or new spices in the cabinet.

Pampering starting with a long, long time in bed.

He tilts his head back and moans a little. "And you think you're not magic." Magic fingers and a supernaturally professional sense of care.

"I had a cookie. It wasn't bad or anything. It tasted like it was home made." But. "There was a flavor in it I couldn't figure out."

She has to admit, he's good at picking out spices. His super nose always finds the freshest ones. And a mystery bottle in the cupboard means learning how to use it--just delightful. Does he know she's saving all the flowers? All the flowers that can be dried or pressed are going into frames that are slowly filling up.

Keeping her in bed will require incentives. Like his being there, too.

"Oh, I'm magic enough for you," she counters with a playful smirk. Her fingers dance over his skin with the assurance of familiarity. "But don't press your luck, Murdock."

Ah. She tsks softly at the revelation. "Someone was handing out cookies in the Nexus, and now you don't feel well? Sounds like a lol. My poor darling."

The Nexus market is the place to go or recommendations from Mrs. Bhaskaran. The nose is the other chief factor in the quest for spice. Whether or not it's used doesn't matter all that much. It's all part of the mystery and surprise, yes.

He will surely be in bed with her. Possibly on top of her if that isn't enough to keep her there. He can be very persuasive.

"I'm speaking of nothing but the truth, Miss Willis. Let the record show that she confirmed she is, in fact, magic." His face contorts at a tender part of his sole. "That. There." Mmmhmmm.

It was only a cookie. Though it harks back to warnings often told with a wagging finger. Never accept treats from a stranger. But she wasn't strange. "It wasn't even a big cookie, honey. Right after." Matt snaps his finger. "I got dizzy, my stomach felt horrible, my feet ached. Even when I sat down as you've seen."

However it is he finds them, she thinks it's magical and she loves it. She will find a use for them all. Some are still a work in progress.

That's assuredly the best way to keep her in bed.

"Yes yes, you've caught me out. Whatever shall I do, now that you know my horrible secret?" She'll keep rubbing his feet is what she'll do. That tender spot gets extra attention.

"It doesn't need to be much. It just." Verity sighs, leaning her forehead against his leg for a moment before tilting her head up to him again. "Matt. Magic doesn't always come in big packages. It can be small enough to choke on."

"Let's just hope yours wears off soon," she adds quietly.

If she loves it, it will keep happening. The same way their notes and texts will keep going as a lifeline. It's an excuse to send her poems or tell her little stories throughout the day. They're small ways he wants to tell her she's special to him, she surprises and delights just being herself.

And it is just good sense to take an extra day to recover if he has been unwell. Tomorrow is to be spent in. Yes indeed.

"You'll simply have to fess up, allow me a cut of your magic and in turn I'll offer you--" sorry he has to vocalize just how nice that feels. "Whatever you want." Wait that wasn't what he was intending to say. Too late, Murdock. Though really he is game to give her anything she asks in this moment...even if he's not capable of following through just yet.

Matt reaches for her head to touch at his leg. His other hand rubs his stomach in a circle. "Come here, love." He pats his lap to bid her to sit.

Being herself might be enough to delight and surprise, but a little effort makes it a sure thing. The poems and stories are always welcome, and she tries to always have something good to share with him when he calls. Sometimes all she can think is to ask him to guess what and then say that she loves him over and over until they're both laughing.

Oh yes. One way or another, he's spending the day in her bed.

"Whatever I want? Careful making offers you'll regret," she cautions with a smile. "What are you, anyway, some kind of superpower mafioso? I pay up and you don't torch my alchemy ingredients?" Silly Matt. It'd be so easy to take advantage of his helplessness right at the moment. Easy, but unloving. The teasing is kinder.

Her head lifts into his touch like a cat's would, and her hair's about as soft. The offer isn't seized on immediately, but he wouldn't have offered if he wasn't sure, so she'll scramble up and sit carefully in his lap. "Yes, honey?"

The little effort is that additional spark. That is another form of Verity Willis magic that compels him to keep her buoyant with laughs, smiles and of course kisses. His stories aren't always so amusing or happy, they're always worth sharing. As to things he must guess, he still has never failed to be charmed by it. Or to laugh eventually.

"I'm the silent partner. Betta watch it, see?" he even attempts the accent. "You pay up, I keep you safe and you do what I tell ya. And you," he can't keep it up it's too funny. Even though the laughter jiggles his stomach.

Soft hair, soft heart. He handles them with care. When she is stays still while she comes to sit until his arms can fold around her. "I'm pretty sure I'll be back to normal. Don't worry."

A sea of love from her beloved will keep her buoyant through any storm. The best thing about it is that he's the sea and the port.

The accent is pretty horrible, but also adorable, and definitely making her giggle. "Yeah? And I what?" Ver would give him a look if they both weren't unable to appreciate it (or manage it) at the moment. Having him laugh after he was in such distress is a precious thing.

"I know." Intellectually, she knows. But he can hear the fear in her voice. Magic, for all she's been studying it and surrounded by it, still scares her on a primal level. She'd love to curl up in his lap and bury her face in his shoulder, but... tea kettle. "Can we put this on hold while I finish making the tea and toast?"

Surrounded and protected, that's exactly how he'd hope it would be. Smooth sailing as much as he can control it.

He doesn't think it's nearly as horrible judging by her laughter. "And you, well, ain't gonna have nothing to say. Not with your diamonds, pearls and all them unmarked bills. Anybody that don't like it will be sleepin' with the fishes." Okay so he hasn't seen a good mobster movie in awhile. They've lost their charm when you live it a time or two. He still laughs and settles.

The bubbling, brewing noise of water is cut with the shrill sound of the kettle. Matt knew it would happen but startles. Only just a little. Verity is beautifully distracting. And his sense of smell and sensation have made hearing take a back seat. "Yeah, of course we can put it on hold." His arms give one last squeeze before starting to pull back. He can change in the mean time.

Stormy weather never bothers her when she's with him.

If getting her to laugh was the aim, then it was wonderful and he should be very proud of himself. "Wow, I went from being your victim to your moll pretty quick. Tell me more about the diamonds and the pearls. You know how terribly materialistic I am." She'll punctuate the teasing with a kiss on his nose.

Ver pets his shoulders soothingly when he startles. "I'll be quick," she promises. And of course, she will be. Tea can't really be rushed, but she can be efficient about it. Mint and ginger steep, toast is slathered with peanut butter, a tray is prepared. "You want some banana on your toast too?" She strains the tea before pouring it into their mugs. Mushy ginger root isn't tasty.

Rain means there's something to sing and dance in. And sunshine to keep them warm.

It is. Being worried and laughing is a feat that few can do. Even if she is still concerned, he has improved her mood in the very least. "The narrative is always about taking suspenseful turns." He thinks about how Verity has all the best traits of Tess Trueheart and Breathless Mahoney. "Nothin' but the finest." Maybe it's apparent but he's running out of lines.

"I'll be here," at least changed into some sleep pants. That he is slow on. Standing gets a head rush. Not as bad as it had been before. Smelling the toast has made his stomach feel like an empty, desolate wasteland. "Please, a banana would be great."

Dancing and singing? He does know the way to her heart.

Nervous laughter isn't usually one of her tells. She's still worried, yes, but she's starting to feel better. Being able to be close to him and see his mood improving helps; hers helping his in turn makes it nicely cyclical. "I've got you, baby, so 'course I've got the best."

Peanut butter banana toast and ginger-mint tea, coming right up. And she's stealing a few peeks while he's changing. It's such a lovely show. If he needs help she's quick to come over; he can lean on her or let her fuss with things while he focuses on standing. However it happens, he'll be comfy in the end, and that's the goal. Once he's sitting again she'll give him his tea and toast with a kiss. "Here you go."

Matt Murdock is a 'whatever it takes' fellow. If he is compelled to sing and dance, he simply must.

Once they're together, home and comfortable he is usually on the mend. Even with his very odd ailment. He'd have to be on his deathbed or very under the weather to not be more active and responsive to her. "I knew you'd see it my way." Though it sounds like they're talking about more than precious gems.

His stomach growls. Maybe she can hear it. Every time he feels like she can, this time he's sure of it. It also makes his undressing much slower with that dizziness. Her support is very, very helpful. She gets her own murmured thanks, pets and kisses. "Thank you, sweetheart. I'd be really in trouble with out you." Trying to get Foggy to Nexus intentionally and to get him to safety. Foggy is a dear friend who he loves so very much. His brand of care just can't compare to Verity's. Now seated and smelling the hot tea and feeling the vapor in his face it's settling. The record plays on, the tunes playful and clever.

Thank God for Verity Willis. Matt blinks and finds his eyes are going to water over again. What.

And thank the gods for that. His willingness to do these things encourages her to actually do these things, instead of only thinking about them. He makes her brave enough to let the world see her.

"Always do." Except when he's coming around to her way of thinking, but then they're on the same page in the end and does it really matter who started there?

She can hear a bit of borborygmus, yeah, which makes her giggle and lean down to kiss his stomach. "Shhh, patience, it'll just be a minute more." After straightening up again she sits beside him and leans her head on his shoulder. "Yeah, you would. Must be why you found me," she teases. Foggy's a darling, but Ver suspects her brand of TLC is a better fit. At least, in this case. There's a woman out there just waiting for a love like Foggy's.

"This is nice," she sighs. "Not that you feel bad. That we get to sit together like this. Being with you." He knows what she means. "I love you."

This only means that there has always been brilliant qualities in her. Matt's patience and care ends up for her benefit and, if it's lucky, the world. She really is something. All the tender touches heal wounds and fill spaces.

He rubs his eye with the heel of his hand and settles into the couch, settles more against her. All of the highs and lows of sensation up inside of him are normal. Coming to tears because his sweet girlfriend brings him tea and toast though? Matt snickers at himself.

Foggy Nelson is going to find a woman and she will be very, very satisfied. And Matt knows that any care on him would be increased, adapted. Foggy is thoughtful and he knows that his best friend is a picky, fussy and stubborn son of a gun that really is beyond his comprehension now and then.

"I was thinking the same," their schedule hasn't allowed for that much stillness. He sniffs and turns to kiss her face while he won't have to worry about smeared peanut butter.

Perhaps they were always there, waiting to be discovered, but she still credits him with their existence. The possibility of becoming something more doesn't matter if it never happens.

Ver is happy to be his pillow if that's what he wants. If he wants to be held while he eats, she can do that too. She'll pet his hair and kiss his forehead while he relaxes and count herself lucky for the opportunity. Cold tea and toast are no concern at all.

Kisses are happily returned, but afterward, she nudges his glasses down to get a look at his eyes. Is... oh gods, he's crying. That ain't good. "Honey, what is it? Does something hurt?"

No perhaps, that's his opinion. He can't possibly put in qualities in her that weren't already there. As smart and adaptive as Verity is, she couldn't possibly just become so lionhearted. Though she is always full of surprises. Wonderful surprises.

Or he could just feed her in exchange for all of the contact. It's only fair. A sip of tea from him, a sip of tea from here. They'll work it out. They always do.

Brown, light focused eyes blink. "I'm just--" he exhales and it's kind of a laugh as a tear slips down his nose. That's the opposite of what it was supposed to do dammit. "I'm not hurt. I'm dizzy and achy but you just make me so happy, Verity. Do you know that?"

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