A/N: I had this idea a week ago, and I couldn't resist... So here you go! I had so much fun writing it, so I really hope you'll like it! Feel free to comment if you did :)

"Come on, Marci, they're gonna be here any minute!"

Foggy Nelson was tucking at his tie nervously, pacing in the living room of his apartment. His girlfriend, Marci, was giving the last touch to her makeup, unimpressed by the future events that were to take place soon.

"Relax, Foggybear," she sighed, "it's just dinner."

She might as well have insulted him. Foggy's jaw dropped. "It's not 'just dinner,'" he said, quoting the unholy words with his fingers, "it's freaking Thanksgiving! You have no idea how big a deal it is in my family."

She made her way to him, a huge smirk spread across her face. "It's a good thing they're celebrating in Florida, then."

Her boyfriend crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a disapproving look. "You know what I mean. It's a big deal for me. And I pride myself on passing the craze on to my friends. Who are family, by the way."

She laced her arms around his neck. "And so is your desperately gorgeous girlfriend," she purred.

"Needless to say," he answered before kissing her.

A loud knock on the door interrupted them. The show was about to start, and Foggy didn't know whether he was ready or not. "I'll get it, must be Maggie." He walked slowly to the door, taking in deep breaths. He opened it swiftly, like you rip off a band-aid.

"Hi Foggy," Maggie said, "thanks for having me."

He smiled, and offered to take her coat. "We're glad you're here, Sister Maggie."

She rolled her eyes. "For the love of God and everything's that's holy, please drop the 'Sister.'"

"As you wish." Sister.

Foggy put her coat on his bed and joined her into the living room. She was sitting next to Marci, who was already having a drink. Typical. And that's why he loved her.

"So... are they coming?" Maggie inquired.

Foggy nodded. "Yes, they are," he sighed. "Any minute now. You sure it's a good idea?"

"Of course it is. The Lord whispered it to me."

"Really?" the young man gasped.

Maggie burst out laughing. "God, no, but it's as if he did. It's gonna work. They just need a little push, and that's what we're gonna give them."

Foggy rubbed the back of his neck. "It's more than a push. I fear... sound and fury."

"Well, I sure hope we'll get some of that," Maggie confessed, earning a knowing smile from her host. Two knocks on the door. Their cue. But neither Foggy nor Marci moved. "Shouldn't you lovebirds get this?" Maggie asked.

Foggy shook his head. "Yeah, right." Get it together Nelson, it's just dinner, he thought.

"Darla, Robbie, hi, please come in."

The newcomers were both good-looking. Robbie was tall, muscular, and had jet-black hair. His teeth were so white Foggy swore he would end up like Matt by the end of the night. Darla was also very beautiful: almond-shaped eyes, a smile to die for, and long, blond hair. He hoped his friends wouldn't notice the resemblance. That would be awkward. But then again, these two strangers were chosen on purpose.

"Hi," Darla cheered, "thanks for having us, it's very generous of you."

"Yeah, we truly appreciate it," Robbie continued. "It was last minute and pretty... surprising, but very nice."

Foggy faked a smile and showed them in. "You're welcome, it's our pleasure!" Good-looking, that they were, but they sounded annoying as hell. What could possibly go wrong? he thought. He didn't even have time to close the door: his devilish friend appeared in the door frame.

"Hey, you're here!"

"Hi, Foggy," Matt said with a smile. "I brought beers, I didn't really know what else to get. I haven't properly celebrated Thanksgiving in a long time."

That was true. Foggy had invited Matt to spend Thanksgiving with him and his family, but Matt had always refused, except once. He had accepted the first invitation, and it had been a great dinner. But it also reopened some deep wounds, and reminded Matt that he would never know that. His own family, dinner, domesticity. He didn't have any family, only Foggy, and that guy named Stick who was a pain in the ass... who was now gone. Foggy suddenly felt bad about all of this. He hoped their crazy idea would not ruin the night for him. After all, they did it to make him happier. He needed them. They needed their help. These idiots.

"It's fine, Matthew," he answered while grabbing the beers. "I'll put that in the fridge."

Matt took off his coat and walked to the living room. A voice he knew all too well was missing.

"Karen's not here?"

So needy, Matt, Foggy thought. It was a good sign. "Not yet. She told me she was baking something, she probably ran late."

Matt nodded. "Probably." And then he heard them. Two voices he didn't recognize. "Foggy, who's there?"

Here goes nothing. "Just two lovely friends of mine."

Matt look suspicious. "Friends? You only have two friends, Foggy. And one of them is standing right in front of you."

Foggy put his hand over his chest. "Ouch. I'm a lovable person, Matt, is it so hard to believe?"

"You're lying. I can hear your heartbeat, remember?"

"Now you're just showing off," Foggy complained. It was weird, he could actually feel Matt glaring at him. That man was freaking him out. "Okay, I don't know them," he conceded. "But your mother does."

His friend looked utterly lost. "Maggie invited them? Why?"

"God works in mysterious ways, Matthew," Foggy answered as he placed his hand on Matt's shoulder.

But Matt was having none of this. He could feel his friend was up to something. "Foggy..."

And one last knock on the door. Foggy took advantage of the situation and headed straight to the origin of the sound. "And that must be our sweet ray of sunshine..." he beamed, before opening the door. "Karen Page!"

"Foggy Nelson!" she beamed back, barely holding back a laugh. She gave him a hug, a plate in her arms. "I'm sorry I'm late," she continued, "that dessert got out of hand..."

Foggy grabbed the dish, and pointed a finger at her. "Don't apologize for making food, ever. Now shut the door, please."

Karen chuckled and complied. Matt smiled at her.

"Hey," he softly said.

"Hey." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, as she often did, and took off her coat. Matt could hear the sound of the fabric sliding down her arms. He envied it.

"Can I help you with that?" he offered.

She froze. They were friends, it was all back to normal, or almost. But from time to time, whenever they were left alone really, there were... Sparks. And awkwardness. A lot of awkwardness. "hum... Yeah, sure. Thank you."

He grabbed her coat and touched her fingers. He was glad she couldn't know how it made him feel. "Yeah, yeah, no worries," he said, before making his way to Foggy's bedroom.

He put down the coat, and inhaled deeply. They had been through a lot this year. Their friendship had been tested in many, many ways. And yet here they were. Here she was, still by his side. Him still by hers. Strangely enough, her confession hadn't tainted the image he had of her. She was still Karen Page, the woman who made the best lasagna in town. She was definitely no saint, for she had sinned. She had killed. But no matter how hard he tought about this, he couldn't find it in him to blame her, and he couldn't see why his God couldn't not forgive her. She was his saint. His imperfect, selfless, magnificent saint.

His. He scoffed. She wasn't his. That ship had sailed. He sighed, put on his oblivious blind guy mask, and joined the rest of the guests into the living room.

"Foggy, who..." Karen began.

"As you guys have noticed thanks to your incredible investigation skills, we have two extra guests tonight. Matt, Karen, meet Robbie and Darla. Maggie ran into them yesterday at church, they didn't have any plans for Thanksgiving so she invited them."

"How Catholic of you, Sister, " Matt sneered.

Maggie grinned. "Why, thanks Matthew, I'm merely trying to do my share." She was really good at this, he had to give her that.

The guests made their way to the table, eager to fill their stomachs with the wonderful dishes Foggy had told them all about. As Karen pulled back a chair, her friend gave her a slap on the hand.

"No, no, no, don't sit here young lady," he told her more seriously than he had intended to, "this isn't your seat."

"There's a seating plan...?" she scoffed.

Foggy looked offended. "Duh! Yes, there is. This isn't 'just dinner', Karen. You sit here, next to Robbie. Darla, dear, you sit next to Matt. Maggie will sit next to Marci."

Right. That wasn't so subtle. He was definitely trying to set them up with those strangers. Matt cleared his throat. He didn't like it. He didn't like strangers in the first place. And he didn't sign up for this. This was supposed to be a cozy family night, not some sort of... set-up. A trap. He hoped Karen felt the same way about it.

"So, how did you two meet?" Karen asked.

Darla giggled and shook her head. "Oh, we're not dating or anything, we don't really know each other."

"We just see each other at church, every now and then," Robbie added.

Karen bit the inside of her cheeck. "Oh, I see."

A set-up. Very, very bold of Foggy. He was in trouble, and she couldn't wait to get her revenge.

"But I'm glad to be here," Robbie told her in a smile. "The company looks excellent."

Karen faked a smile. Small talk. She could do small talk. That poor guy probably didn't know anything about Foggy's intentions, and she knew the feeling. Her ex-boss had tried to set her up with his own nephew after all. Weird night. "So, what do you do, Robbie?" she inquired.

"I'm a doctor."

Of course. "And what got you into med school?"

"Money would be a good guess," Matt deadpanned.

Robbie smiled. He didn't look vexed or anything. "No, I don't care about that," he admitted. "I just really wanted a job that would allow me to help people. Being a doctor was the most straightforward way to do so."

A good Samaritan. It's not like she was into that type of man. "And what's your field?"

"I work with kids. Kids who have cancer."

The kids, she was expecting. The cancer part? Not really. She actually felt sorry for the guy. "Oh God, that must be..." she began. "How do you manage to do this? I know I couldn't."

Robbie shrugged. "Well, they need us. It's that simple. Of course it hurts to see them so sick, but ultimately I have to put on a smile and show them that it's okay. You don't really think about yourself in this kind of situation. You think about who you have to be for them." He paused and leant closer to her. "And you, what do you do?"

She laughed nervously. "Well, I was a journalist. At the Bulletin."

"Wait, aren't you that journalist who wrote about Daredevil?"

"Hum, yes, that must be me," she said, faking a smile. She stared at her glass. She needed that wine. She grabbed it and took a long sip.

Robbie looked interested. Matt could feel his excitement. He didn't like it. He didn't like him, for a reason he could not pinpoint.

"Did you ever meet him?" Robbie asked. "Because it definitely sounds like you did. Your articles were so on point. Reading them I felt some sort of... connection between the two of you."

Karen spat out her drink. "I... hum... Well..." she stammered, "I think I just have a good grasp on the character, you know?"

A. Good. Grasp. God, she did it again. She hoped Matt hadn't picked that up.

Judging by his smirk, he had.

"Well, let's start eating, shall we?" Foggy chimed in. He grabbed a dish and handed it to Matt. "Matt, sweet potatoes? I know they're your favorite."

His friend grinned some more. "I haven't had those in quite a while. Give it to me."

Darla took the dish, visibly eager to please him. "Here, let me."

Back to just being the blind man, he thought. He was blind, he couldn't deny that. But he hated it when people reduced him to his disability. That wasn't a good start.

"Thank you very much," he said. He heard her smile, and suddenly felt bad. She was trying. And Robbie was definitely trying too. Might as well join the party. "Darla," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner, but I still don't know anyhing about you. So, tell me. Who are you?"

She laughed and joined her hands. "Ok, well, I'm a photographer."

"Let me guess: not for the money," he smirked.

Darla smirked back at him. "What gave me away?"

"You're an artist."

"I'm trying to be one," she admitted in a sigh. "But yeah, money isn't exactly flowing."

"As long as you're doing what you love, money doesn't really matter, does it?"

She nodded. "Absolutely, cheers to that." Their glasses met and Karen's heart clenched. She drank more wine. "Sister Maggie told me you were a lawyer?" Darla continued. "Are you one of those sharks who swim in bills or a good guy who's paid in pies and ham?"

He burst out laughing. It was a clear, joyful laugh. "The latter," he answered.

"I thought so."

"What gave me away?"

Darla tilted her head to the side. "You don't strike me as a shark. You're more of the knight type, always trying to save people."

Matt narrowed his eyebrows. "How..."

"I'm a photographer," she said. "Seeing people is my job."

He didn't say a word, he just smiled. He had literally nothing to answer to that. She was not that bad after all.

Karen, on the other side of the table, didn't feel so relaxed. Her glass was already empty, so she decided to jump on the bandwagon.

"Robbie, more sweet potatoes?" she asked.

"Hum, yeah, why not," the young man said, but she had already filled his (half-full) plate. He laughed and paused to take a good look at her. Their eyes met. She was very bad at maintaing eye contact. Actually, she hated that. There was something invasive about it. After a few seconds, she turned her eyes to her plate and suddenly found its content fascinating.

"Forgive my bluntness," Robbie said in a deep, low voice, "but you have the most stunning eyes I've ever seen."

She smoothed her hair, and opened her mouth, but the words seemed stuck on the tip of her tongue. She cleared her throat. "Woah, hum... Thanks, Robbie."

"Do compliments make you uncomfortable?"

"A little," she confessed.

Robbie sat up, intrigued. "Why's that? And don't tell me you don't get those all the time, I will not believe you."

She tilted her head to the side and plunged her fork into her piece of turkey. "As a matter of fact, I don't."

Her neighbor placed his hand on her forearm, and she shivered. "Well, the men in your life are fools."

She didn't really like to be touched; every time someone bhumped into her or brushed past her, she flinched. She had... lost the habit. Between Fagan Corners and the day she met Matt and Foggy, she had mostly been alone. She had gotten used to it. The coldness, the emptiness. So now, whenever someone touched her, she felt like she was under attack. But for some reason... it wasn't the same with Matt. His touch soothed her. His skin was like a welcoming, familiar bed. She couldn't help but smile fondly at this thought.

Matt's jaw clenched when he heard that smile. Was she enjoying this? Did she actually like that guy? That annoying, boring Doctor I'm-an-ass?

"Matt, buddy, please don't cut the plate?"

"What? Oh."

His plate was a slaughterhouse, bits of meat scattered here and there, and he realized he had been cutting nothing for a while. And all the guests were staring, of course.

"Well, I am blind," he shrugged.

"That you are," Maggie deadpanned.

Foggy was unable to sit still anymore. "I think we need more wine."

"Definitely," Matt and Karen said in unison.

Everyone stopped talking and just stared at them, but they didn't say anything. They gulped and took another bite. Robbie and Darla looked at each other, probably trying to make sense of the night, and Maggie looked up. At first, Foggy thought she was praying or something, but he soon realized she was merely trying to keep a straight face. So was he. And that's why he got up and made his way to the kitchen, followed by Marci.

"It's working!" he quietly yelled.

Marci cupped his cheeks. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Foggybear, the night's still young."

But Foggyfuckingbear couldn't calm down. He was playing Cupid, and he enjoyed it. A lot. "They're totally jealous, both of them," he said. "They're gonna explode, soon."

Marci rolled her eyes. "After dessert I hope."

"Come on babe, don't you ship it?" he purred as he leant in to kiss her cheek.

"What...?" she scoffed.

Foggy froze. "You don't- I can't even. Marci, are you really that old? They're literally the ultimate OTP!"

His girlfriend sighed and shook her head. Just another night in Foggyland. "Just gimme the wine."

Back in the living-room, Matt was tapping on the table, his jaw clenched. Dr Ro-barf was getting on his nerves. He was so full of himself, like he was invested with a holy mission or something. He had to take him down. He could do that with his fists, so for once he was to use his mouth. Couldn't be that hard.

"So, Robbie," he began, "why would a good-looking doctor like you be single? Are you a serial killer or something?"

He could feel Karen glaring at him. He smirked.

Robbie, however, only half-smiled. "No, I recently broke up with my girlfriend. We'd been together eight years, but... We had different wishes. She didn't want kids, and I definitely want some. We couldn't make it work."

Karen winced. Stupid Murdock had hit a nerve. "Oh, I'm sorry, Robbie," she kindly replied.

Robbie smiled at her. "Thanks, I appreciate it." He took a sip of wine and frowned. "What about you, Karen? Do you want kids?" he inquired.

This time, she wasn't drinking. Nothing to spit out. Instead, she just gaped at him for a couple of seconds which felt like a lifetime. Definitely not better. "Kids, hum, yeah, well," she stuttered, "I guess?" He nodded, slowly, and she bit her lower lip. That answer was not really honest. "Actually," she kept going, "yes, I do. Eventually, when I find a good man who'll be able to put up with me." She avoided Matt's face, for she knew he'd know, were she to look at him. And he couldn't know.

"Mustn't be that hard," Robbie replied with a huge grin.

Across the table, Matt snorted. "You don't know her, cow boy," he said while raising his glass, and at present Karen's eyes were sending daggers. What the hell was wrong with him? But Robbie was not such an easy target.

"And you, Matt, how come you're single?" he asked.

"How do you know I'm single?" Matt said with an air of inflexible calmness.

Robbie crossed his arms over his chest. "Well... For starters, you didn't bring your girlfriend."

A rookie mistake. He was a lawyer. He knew how to plead, he knew how to talk, he knew how to defend people. But he couldn't mock a simple, defenseless doctor? He wished he could just punch the guy in the face, that he could do. He faked a smile and shrugged. "I'm blind," he retorted.

"The blind card, really?" Darla intervened. "You're built like a Greek god, come on!"

"It's complicated."

Darla flashed him a devilish smile and rested her head on her hand. "Pray tell, I love complex men."

"Not that complex, I assure you," Karen muttered. Oh, her glass was empty, once again.

Foggy hit the table with both hands. "Who wants dessert? I'll go fetch it."

Karen closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. "No, no, Foggy, I'll do it. It's my pumpkin pie after all. You sit and enjoy the company." Because I've had enough of it, she thought.

She stood up and burst into the kitchen. She was exhausted. Why was she exhausted?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked him."

She turned around and Robbie was there. Alone was visibly a world only she knew.

"No, it's not your fault," she sighed, rubbing her neck. "Mat shot first"

Robbie got a little closer to her. "Is there... Is something going on with you two?" he asked uneasily.

"What? No," she replied without hesitation. "What do you mean?"

"He's clearly jealous."

Karen chuckled. That was rich. "Matthew Murdock? Jealous? No, no. He just had a little bit too much to drink."

"Right. So... You don't have feelings for him?"

Karen gulped. The question surprised her, and she found herself trying to answer it. She banished the thought immediately. "Nope," she declared, and she almost convinced herself she did not.

Robbie was apparently convinced as well. "Good," he said in a smile, "because I think like you, Karen."

Fuck. "Hum, gotta go to the bathroom," she blurted out, "I'll be right back."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What the hell was going on? Was it really Thanksgiving or Hellgiving? Had she missed the fucking memo? She locked herself up into the bathroom and tried to calm down. Deep breaths. Eyes closed. She had confronted Wilson Fisk. She had killed. She had threatened. She could handle an unrequited crush. But there was something else, something deeper, something... painful. She couldn't figure out what it was, but it was digging a hole in her chest. She shook her head, took one last breath, and returned to the ring.

"You feeling okay, Karen?" Matt asked as she sat down. He was taunting her. He had this boasty, scornful smile plastered on his face.

"I'm perfectly fine," she calmy answer, regal. "What about you, Matt?"

"Fantastic, thank you," he answered in the same fashion. "Darla just told me about her photographs and how she sells them for charity."

Saint Darla. Karen's fake grin widened. "How generous, Darla. You're an inspiration to us all."

Darla shook her hand. "Oh, no, I'm no saint," she replied. "But Matt, if you're interested you could come down to my studio. I'd love to take some pictures of you. You have a very interesting face. These lips are to die for."

Her hand suddenly found his crotch, and he jolted. He fiddled with his glasses and cleared his throat. "Hum, thank you, Darla," he said with a nervous laugh, desperately trying to remove her hand from his private parts. "But, hum, I'm not sure about the studio..."

"Come on, Matt," Karen chimed in, "those lips have got to be on camera. Think of the charity. It's the Catholic thing to do."

Well, that was fair. He couldn't attack Karen Page without expecting her to retaliate. Plus, he couldn't deny she was incredibly hot when she put him in his place. Wine talking, he thought. Nothing else. She was just a friend. A hot one, but still a friend.

A the other end of the table, Marci was enjoying the situation more than she cared to admit. It was like watching The Bachelor, except these two idiots didn't know they were in love. She thought she might as well bring in a little chaos. "Darla, dear," she beamed, "I think you should take some pictures of Karen. She is the model in the two."

Karen laughed nervously. "Oh no, no, no, no, no..."

"It's not a bad idea, actually," Darla conceded, her eyes set on Karen's face. "You're definitely gorgeous. Matt, I wish you could see her. Do you know what she looks like?"

His heart sank. This was the most painful question to ask him. Not "what is it like to be blind?" or "do you miss your sight?" No. This one. This one was the worst. Because it haunted him. Every now and then, at night or in broad daylight, at work or on the roofs of Hell's Kitchen, he wondered what Karen Page looked like. Foggy had described her to him. He knew she was a blonde, he knew here eyes were blue and her skin pale. But it wasn't enough, it could never be enough. He longed to see her flushed cheeks, to gaze at her lips, her nose, her hair. He wanted to drink in the sight of every parcel of her body. He didn't need that to love her, for he felt he could see her. But it pained him to know that he would never be lucky enough to be graced by the vision of Karen Page.

Wait, to love her...?

"All I know is that she's beautiful," he let out.

Karen's heart skipped a beat. It was very, very, very hard to stay mad at Matt Murdock. She wasn't able to stay mad at him when he told her he was Daredevil, nor when he played dead after Midland Circle. And she couldn't be mad at him now, when his words wrapped her whole being with warmth.

No one noticed how Foggy was smiling at the scene. He was delighted. Not because his plan was working (or just a little), but because his friends were on the path to happiness, at last. It was time to seal the deal.

"Okay, time to be thankful," he cheered. "So, who wants to start? Maggie?"

She smiled and put her hands on her lap. "Well, I'm thankful for this wonderful dinner, and for being a part of this family. I'm not sure I deserve it, but I'm glad you found it in your heart to welcome me."

Matt nodded and gave her a shy smile. It was his first Thanksgiving with his own mother, and the first he had had in a long time. He definitely felt grateful for that. He wished Father Lantom could be here as well.

"Thank you, Maggie," Foggy said. "Marci?"

She pursed her lips. "I'm thankful for my job, of course, and I'm obviously thankful for my Foggybear."

He winked at her. "And I for you, babe."

Karen rolled her eyes, and Matt sighed. They were disgustingly cute.

"Darla? Robbie?"

"I'm thankful for the pumpkin pie, which is delicious, and I'm thankful for your invitation. I wouldn't have met Mr Murdock here if it weren't for you."

Lord help me, Matt silently prayed. He could feel how turned on she was, and it scared the hell out of him. He felt like she was about to eat him alive.

"As for me, I am thankful for the amazing kids I work with, and for Karen Page, whom I can't wait to get to know."

Make it stop, Karen thought. She couldn't even fake a smile, she was too tired of this shit.

"Thank you both," Foggy said, perfectly aware of the effect of those words on both his friends. "Matt?"

"What?" the latter responded, visibly lost in his thoughts.

"Are you thankful for anything...?"

"Oh. Hum," he stammered. He was thankful for many things, of course. For being alive, for not having managed to kill himself, for Fisk's arrest, for his long-lost mother, for Foggy, for... "I'm thankful for you," he let out without thinking, his heart thundering in his chest. "You're what matters most to me."

Karen's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't said her name, he hadn't turned his head in her direction, but... She felt like he was talking to her, and her only. Foggy's voice brought her out of her reverie.

"Karen?"

She blinked. "Hum, what Matt said."

"Come on, Karen," Foggy scolded her.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'm... I'm thankful for our friendship. You are all I have. And, I... I need you like I've never needed anyone in my life."

Maybe she was talking to Matt too.

Foggy held back a tear. "All right, that was something," he said.

A lingering moment was spent until Karen got up and grabbed the pie leftovers. "I'll bring that back to the kitchen," she said. She left, this time hoping a certain someone would follow her.

He did.

"It was meant for you," Matt told her.

She scoffed lightly. "I got that."

He went up to her, until they were merely inches apart. "Karen, I'm sorry," he said softly, "I've behaved like a jerk all evening."

"You've been the worst," she confirmed. "But I forgive you. I was a real bitch."

"That's what I'd call a match made in heaven," he laughed.

Karen placed her hands on her hips. "In hell, you mean," she deadpanned.

Matt hung his head. "Well, if this is hell, then I'm happy to stay. With you," he let out. She stared at him, her mouth half-opened, willing to smile but unsure as to what was happening.

"So, Robbie, uh?" he added while scratching the top of his head.

"Yeah, he's fine," she replied.

Matt furrowed his brows. "Fine?" he repeated. "He's a doctor. He helps kids. He wants kids. What's not to like?"

She could hear the irony in his tone. Poor Robbie. "Nothing, he's Mr Right," she answered. "But I'm not interested in Mr Right. Are you interested in your... artist?"

"If I'm being honest, she scares the crap out of me."

They both laughed heartily.

"So we're back to square one," Karen sighed. "They obviously tried to set us up with those two."

"Yeah, there was nothing subtle about that," Matt giggled. "What if we proved them wrong?"

"How?"

"Like this."

He cupped her cheeks and kissed her. She didn't resist. It felt like coming home. Their lips glided over each other smoothly, as if they remembered. She laced her arms around his neck, and his hands slided down her back, until they reached her waist. He held her close, he held her tight, and he felt like he was burning up. He whimpered when she gently bit his lower lip. He breathed into her and wished time could freeze. When they departed, her hot breath was still on his lips, and the sound of their racing hearts erasing all the other noises around. They were alone, at last. They were together, again, their foreheads still touching each other.

"Remember... Remember that kiss in the rain?" Matt said in a raspy, yet joyful voice.

"Yes," Karen replied with a soft smile, still catching her breath.

"This one is a close second."

They parted in a light laugh, and she rested her head in the crook of his neck as he closed his arms around her.

"Are we doing this again?" Karen asked, never leaving his side. "Last time... Well, you know what I mean. We... crashed and burnt."

He held her tighter, his fingers tracing little circles on her back. "Because I was lying to you," he said. "I'm not lying anymore. I want you in my life. All of it."

She looked up and caressed the side of his head. "Seems like I keep falling for you, Mr Murdock."

He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "Seems like I do too, Ms Page."

She pursed her lips and took his glasses off. He complied, more relaxed than he had been in a long while. She then kissed his cheeks, his neck, his eyes, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Are you trying to show me how hungry for me you are, Karen?"

"Do I really need to?" she purred. "Which reminds me, I'm actually hungry. I didn't eat much tonight."

Matt winced. "My bad. Here, let me fix this."

He grabbed a spoon and plunged it into the pie.

"Pumpkin pie?" he asked playfully, holding the spoon before her face.

"Always," she beamed. She opened her mouth and he fed her.

Foggy, Marci and Maggie didn't miss a bit of the scene.

"It's like..." Foggy stammered, tears burning the back of his eyes, "It's like they just got married, and they're sharing the wedding cake..."

Marci slapped her forehead. "Foggy, I'm cancelling our Netflix subscription, you watch way too many rom-coms."

He smiled dreamily, his eyes never leaving his friends. "I don't need to anymore. They're canon."

"Ok," Marci declared as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the crime scene.

Sister Maggie, her arms crossed across her chest, smirked and leant towards Marci.

"I believe you owe me fifty bucks, Marci," she whispered.

"Dammit, I didn't think it'd actually work," Marci muttered.

"I knew it would," Foggy beamed, and the two women sighed and left him alone. "What?"

Needless to say, Matt heard it all. But he didn't care. Foggy was a good friend. They needed this push, or else they'd still be ignoring their feelings for each other. He wasn't scared anymore. Karen was his destiny. It was about time he embraced it. He was ready to face anything, as long as she was by his side, and him by hers. He was not alone anymore. He never were. And he would always treasure the memory of this Thanksgiving, the very first he spent with the love of his life, but certainly not the last.