[Speed Dating, Round One]

[callofkaren]

This wasn't the first time Karen had run speed dating, and she had everything down to practically a science by now. She was going to miss watching what sorts of trouble Tony could get himself in, but there were a decent amount of people signed up, enough so that she had to split them down the middle so nobody would be overwhelmed

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[hasnobullets]

I have, in a word, a reputation. (Several, in fact, but who's counting? I'm certainly not; the tabloids back home did an excellent job of keeping track for me.) Whether or not the one I have for being a skirt chaser is deserved is a matter of some debate; Foggy would think a night like this is right up my alley, I'm sure, but I'm not so convinced. I haven't been with a woman since Milla forced me into an annulment I in no way wanted, and what flirtations I've had in the interim have been just that: flirtations. No commitments or contracts signed in kisses.

I'd be lying if I said I was really expecting anything different to come out of tonight, but even if I'm not a skirt chaser, I'm at least an optimist.

I tuck the card the woman -- Karen -- gave me into the inside pocket of the suit I scared up for the occasion. I'm told it's blue, and I'll have to trust I wasn't lied to (though I can vouch for the quality of its cut). Sitting down at the first chair and tucking my cane underneath the table, I find myself wondering as to the identity of the woman across from me. There's too many distractions (ambient noise, conflicting smells) for me to get a read in my usual manner.

But this isn't Daredevil's domain, anyway; it's Matt Murdock's. And Matt Murdock isn't suppose to be anything other than a defense attorney from Hell's Kitchen. I offer a smile.

"Interesting night."

[frakkup]

"Frak me," Kara exhales, still reeling from her first 'date'. She wonders if the whole of tonight's lineup will feature barely legals and men who'd probably rather smush her face into the table than kiss it.

"Yeah," she says, taking a gulp of water that doesn't burn nearly as nice as a whiskey would. "I'll say. Look, I know you're not. Thrilled to be sitting across from me." Gods, why is she here? To have it reaffirmed nobody wants her enough to stay? Message godsdamned received. "If you want to talk about something non-datey, that's fine."

[hasnobullets]

Ah. Captain Thrace. We got off on the wrong foot when we first met, putting her in good company with a lot of women I've known over the years.

My smile doesn't falter. This is supposed to be a good night -- a different night. I won't let my biases ruin this for me, though I almost wish we were back at the boxing ring.

"You should really stop presuming you know me, Captain."

[frakkup]

Is that what'd gotten her on his bad side last time? Kara's so practiced, so disturbingly good at pissing people off, after a while it gets hard to remember what the frak she's and to who. She exhales again, more measured this time, and curls her fingertips hard against her arms.

"Right," she concedes. Okay, then. She doesn't believe in blank slates, but if the illusion will get her through the next five minutes, well, it's better than the glass of whiskey that'd do the same job. "What do I do?" I don't know why I'm here, I am insane, do me a favor and don't notice. "Ask you things? Where are you from?" she barks abruptly.

[hasnobullets]

She's bad at this. The question is abrupt. A clear attempt at grasping at straws. I try to remind myself we're all here for a variation of the same reason. The want for connection, however brief. Whether it's to have a laugh or the naïve hope that we might find something deeper in a few stolen minutes of interaction. I don't pity her. She doesn't strike me as the kind of woman who needs my pity or anyone else's, but it does make me reluctant to laugh at her expense.

"Hell's Kitchen," I say evenly, certain I've said as much before, but not minding the repetition. "I'm a defense attorney. Your turn."

[frakkup]

"The Twelve Colonies," Kara replies, her nerves easing now that they've made it to the recitation portion of the date. "It's a planetary system, constellations here would suggest it's on the other side of the universe. Earth's just a myth to my people, but we were looking for it when I came here. I was a pilot for the Colonial Fleet on the Battlestar Galactica."

She sighs beneath her breath. Comfortable as she's become talking about it, mentioning the Galactica never fails to make her ache.

[hasnobullets]

"Hell's Kitchen is a neighborhood," I clarify when she's done, because if Earth's just a myth, I don't want her thinking I was palling around with the actual devil. (Mephisto doesn't count for a number of reasons, most notably that he's not my friend.) "On Earth."

Smooth, Murdock.

"Have you ever been grounded this long?"

[frakkup]

Kara's mouth twists, but it comes closer to a smile than anything. "Five years? Never. We didn't exactly have any ground left by the time I came here, robot uprising, nuclear apocalypse and all." She shrugs before remembering he can't appreciate the studied effect.

"Hell's Kitchen. Is it as inviting as it sounds?"