A Crazier Than Average Year, A Matt/Nat Story

Epilogue

Back on administrative leave. First bedrest, then physiotherapy, and finally just pointed instructions to "take it easy" until she can bear more weight on the limb. 

Safe to say, Natasha hasn't ventured into Hell's Kitchen in a while. Not for missions and not for fun. She sends Matt a text to his burner phone after waking up in the medical ward. She's had his number for ages, never used it before. Prefers the window.

Hope you're not dead.

He sends back an equally terse reply. Thanks. You too.

It's enough to make her laugh. There is no universe in which that was an appropriate conversation for two people who just pulled each other out of a burning building.

A few weeks later Natasha gets a text. Meet me at this address. Dress code: casual, but unrecognizable.

The address is a third-floor walk-up apartment in Hell's Kitchen. There are commercial spaces on the ground floor and a bar at the corner. Natasha puts on a blonde wig, large black sunglasses, and calls a cab. When she steps out onto the sidewalk, there's a woman in a red peacoat waving at her.

"Miss Rushman?"

Natasha steps towards her, "Yes?"

"This way! Mr. Murdock is waiting for us inside."

When she gets closer the woman reaches for her hand, her red painted mouth parting to reveal a row of chicklet teeth. "It's lovely to meet you, Miss. Rushman, Mr. Murdock speaks so well of you. My name is Darcy and I'm the real estate agent showing you the apartment today!"

"Uh, thanks." Natasha shakes the proffered hand, "nice to meet you." She follows Darcy into the vestibule.

The stairwell is poorly lit and the walls are bordering on crumbling. Natasha makes a show of disapproving of every imperfection. Whatever the game Matt's playing, Natasha is going to win. The third-floor landing is open, with two doors opposite each other and a narrow ascending staircase labeled roof access. Matt is waiting for them on the landing. He's wearing his daytime getup; a cheap black suit that could use some tailoring, a white shirt, and black tie. He's got the red glasses on that hide his eyes but Natasha can see the crinkling on either side that responds to his best smile, the open one that says more than just "glad you're not dead."

"Look who I found!" Darcy exclaims, oblivious to her own joke. Natasha covers the distance between herself and Matt in two long strides. He envelopes her in a hug and suppresses a laugh when she surprises him by pressing her mouth over his.

Darcy unlocks the door and leads them inside, "Ready for the tour?"

The apartment has a small partitioned entry hall, Darcy explains that the kitchen is on the other side and the partition provides extra cabinet space. The hall opens into a lofted, open-plan apartment with one bedroom and one bath. The kitchen is open, modern, with three appliances. There's in-suite laundry. Big windows. Ample storage and — here's where Matt bites his bottom lip to keep from giving away his excitement — private roof access via another narrow staircase leading from the living room to a platform above.

Natasha watches him as he pads hesitantly around the space. He maps out the distance from one wall to the next by tapping his cane, checks out the size of the bedroom and even asks her about the closet space.

"It's ample." She deadpans from the living room, "You could fit about a hundred lawyer suits in it."

Matt measures the depth of the bedroom closet with his cane, "More like 50."

There's a storage cupboard under the stairs to the roof and Matt taps around in there too.

"Perfect for storing bicycles or exercise equipment!" Darcy is way too perky.