His hand rested on the small of her back, leading her through a dimly lit restaurant. As the table came into view, she could see it was awash in yellow candlelight, the glow magnified as it radiated off the crisp, white tablecloth. Looking around, she realized the restaurant was empty, save for their hostess and a lone server. Classical music played from a speaker over her left shoulder, and as she sat she noticed wine was already waiting for them, poured half full in her glass.

"Drink," he commanded, and she easily obeyed, taking a long sip. Her fingers curled around the glass, her hand ever so slightly shaking - she hoped he couldn't see it, but of course he could.

He reached out across the table and took the wine glass. "There's nothing to fear," he told her, his fingers interlacing with her own. "I would never hurt you."

His amber eyes twinkled against the candlelight, as his face exploded into a smile. For a moment, she felt calm, protected, his hand holding hers with tenderness. But inside, just below the surface of her goose-bump ridden skin, she knew his words could not be trusted. She screamed out in her mind: Liar! Let me go! Liar! But he only pulled her hand to his own mouth and placed a gentle kiss on her pale, porcelain skin.

"Now, go on, tell me you love me."

"I love you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jessica Jones thrashed out in her sleep, her right arm screaming into the air, her long fingers balled tightly into a fist. As she flailed about on her own mattress, the line between her dream and her reality coming into focus, Matt Murdock reached out and grabbed her arms.

"Hey, hey, hey," he repeated in a steady, low voice. "It's alright. Everything's alright."

Jessica's breathing hitched, stuck in her chest and coming out in spits and starts. She heaved, gulping in air like water.

Matt turned on his side, his body resting against her own, his hands still tightly holding her arms. He was trying to prevent her from hurting herself, or him - but he knew that if she wanted to Jessica could free herself from his grasp. Instead, she melted further into it, her arms lowering, her breathing slowing, her body sinking deeper into the bed.

It was only then that Jessica truly understood what was happening. Matt Murdock was laying beside her, resting just above her flimsy sheets, his rubber Daredevil costume still on, save for his mask.

She couldn't help herself, and began to laugh. It came out strangled at first, as she was still trying to regain her composure. "Are these your pajamas, Murdock?"

He smiled. "Are these yours?"

Jessica looked down. She was wearing a dirty pair of jeans - the same pair she'd been sporting for days - and a black bra. "Yes, actually."

She pulled herself from his hold - but not roughly; she didn't want him to think his being there was a violation. In fact, she vaguely remembered having asked him to stay. Jessica let herself relax onto her side, staring straight at Matt, straight into his ironically all-seeing eyes.

He could feel her watching him, feel her heat. Matt pushed back and rested on the bed, his body stiff against the mattress, his eyes starting straight up, avoiding her intoxicating gaze.

"What time is it?" she asked, not sure if he knew the answer.

"You've only been out about an hour," he told her.

It was still night - there was still enough time for him to leave and make it back to Wilson Fisk's condo without anyone knowing. Jessica let out a relieved exhale. "What are you still doing here?"

"You asked me to stay," he reminded her, but she didn't need reminding.

"And you told me no."

Matt shifted, the bed creaking under his weight; the rubber of his suit screeching softly into the night air. "That's not exactly what I said."

"Semantics, counsellor," Jessica sighed, before rolling onto her own back and joining him in the fruitless task of staring at her popcorn ceiling.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Same old, you know," she scoffed. When Matt didn't reply, didn't move, Jessica felt compelled to continue, but she wasn't sure why. "Kilgrave. I always dream about him… about what he did to me."

"I dream about that, too," Matt said softly.

He heard the muscles of her face turn up, her smile silently screaming. "You dream about what Kilgrave's done to me?" she joked, knowing that's not what he meant. "How sweet. Fucked up, but sweet."

"Funny, Jessica," he told her. "I meant I dream about what I've done to you."

Sometimes Jessica hated how honest she was - but only sometimes. That honesty washed out of her in uncontrollable waves and at inopportune times. Lying in the dark with Matt, she knew he must have been on the receiving end of one too many eye rolls or heavy scoffs; whatever it was, it had made him think he wronged her somehow, but no hurt could compare to Kilgrave.

"You haven't done anything to me, Matt," she replied, a reassuring flit to her voice that sounded unfamiliar as it bounced off the stark bedroom walls.

"I have nightmares about Midland Circle."

"Well, when you're crushed by a building, that's bound to happen." Jessica crossed her long, lean legs over each other, and let her hands rest behind her head - an errant elbow poking out toward Matt's face. Matt shifted away, the edge of the bed dangerously close. He turned back onto his side, his hip carving out a place on Jessica's thin, worn mattress.

"I have nightmares about what you must have thought, and how you must have felt," he told her, his voice low and sincere.

Jessica chuckled - again with her honesty - but she couldn't help it. "I won't deny your death hurt me, but having dreams about what I was thinking and feeling while you were gone… well, that sounds a little self-aggrandizing, doesn't it?"

Matt sighed, not sure how to explain himself, explain his feelings, but Jessica continued. "What happened at Midland Circle was awful and I rightfully gave you shit for it when you got back. Hell, I might give you shit about it for the rest of your life. But to compare that, in any way, to Kilgrave is-"

"It wasn't a comparison," Matt quickly clarified.

"Mm-hmm."

After a moment that felt too long, Matt finally added. "I have other dreams about you, too."

Jessica uncrossed her legs and turned onto her side, facing Matt, staring into his dark brown eyes. "What kind of dreams?"

She watched as he blushed - his pale, stubble laden cheeks growing the same red as his suit.

"Dreams I shouldn't be telling you about," he replied, sheepishly.

"Hey, you brought it up," Jessica scoffed. "I was over here telling you about the most terrible and traumatic experience of my life, but…" She smiled wide and hoped he could see it.

Matt didn't reply. He laid still on the mattress beside her, one hand resting between them, his fingers playing with the sheet, pulling it this way and that. Jessica placed her hand atop his, quelling his anxious movements. "I was joking," she told him.

"I know."

"Do you?"

Matt slid his hand out from under Jessica's touch and brought his palm to her face. She flinched involuntarily and Matt froze, his hand hanging in the air between them, his fingers curled and awaiting the smoothness of her skin. Jessica watched as he arched his head to the side, away from the plushness of her pillow. She wondered if he was freeing his ear, trying to get a better sense of his surroundings. She wondered if he was listening to the quickening of her heartbeat, if he could hear the almost undetectable whine in the pit of her stomach as it flipped wildly inside her.

Jessica inhaled deeply before pushing herself forward, her soft cheek finding its spot in the crook of Matt's partially cupped hand. She reached out her own hand; long, thin fingers playing along the line of his red Daredevil suit. She nuzzled into him, as her hand tightly wrapped itself around his upper arm, pulling closer until the space between them was almost nonexistent.

Jessica watched as Matt's eyes closed, his thick, black lashes like a heavy veil against his skin. Before she closed her own eyes, he'd leaned forward, filling the last millimetre of empty space. His lips gently pressed against her own, the wetness of his anticipation slick against her partially open mouth. Matt's hand moved along her face, his fingers pressing deeper into her skin, running down the sharpness of her cheekbone. He moaned into her as the kiss enveloped them. Jessica let her short nails rake along the rubber of his suit, feeling it crease under her too rough touch. She let go a guttural hum; she wanted to feel his skin, the way he was feeling hers.

Matt rolled to the left, landing on his back, his lips still attached to hers in a kiss so long and languid, so full of passion he couldn't let go. His arms hitched around Jessica's midsection, pulling her with him - her small frame moving to lay on top of him. As she began the motion to straddle him, the denim of her jeans scraping against the thick, red rubber of his suit, Matt shifted uncomfortably - and he was forced to break away from her mouth.

The light from Jessica's bathroom, just across the small hall by her bedroom, pooled at the doorway, not strong enough to illuminate the room. But the cast of that bulb played against the wall in front of Matt, helping his eyes adjust to the shadows, taking in their form - and it allowed him to see Jessica lean back, arching seductively, her raven hair whipping through the air like the mane of a lion. Her legs on either side of his costume clad torso, Jessica eased herself into him and moaned.

"Jessica," Matt croaked. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

As the words escaped him, Matt couldn't believe he'd said them - couldn't believe he was jeopardizing his chance to feel her naked body pressed firmly against his own. But she had just told him of her nightmare. Hell, he'd just held her in his arms as she shook and panted, the fear overtaking them both. Now, minutes later, he was trying to seduce her.

What are you doing? He asked himself, his hands suddenly finding themselves on the cut of her hips, his fingers digging into her skin. He radiated with longing, and as Jessica bucked softly against him from above, Matt knew she could feel the growing desire inside him.

Yet, she rolled off him, a little less gracefully than she would have liked, and Matt lightly whimpered as the space above him grew cold. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her bare feet gently tapping against the floor, Matt could feel the weight of the mattress shift beneath them. His ears perked at the soft clink of her bra unclasping, then listened for the gentle thud of the fabric hitting the hardwood.

"Jessica," he whispered; his voice was met with the sound of a zipper lightly screeching through the air. It was followed by the rustling of denim.

"How long do we have?" Jessica finally wondered out loud, as she fell back onto the bed beside him. The heat of her body crested against him, pushing off her silken skin in waves. Matt inhaled her scent: sweat and whiskey tangled with the arousal emanating from her every pore.

In a single swift motion, Matt shunned all caution and turned himself over her, his elbows finding clear spots on either side of her body. Without needing invitation, Jessica reached up and wrapped her hands around his midsection, pulling his chest down to meet her own, before their lips crashed together again. Jessica groaned into him, becoming more aggressive in her kiss; lips wet, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Matt slipped from the safety of his elbows, allowing himself to fully crush into Jessica's body, and she brought her legs around his own, wrapping them together. Matt's right hand slipped into her hair, his left sliding underneath her ass. She was still wearing a pair of black cotton panties, and his fingers pulled at the band, hungrily gliding his palm inside to feel her naked skin.

Jessica moaned into his mouth as he cupped her ass. She ached up toward him, pounding her hips into his own. The sweat on her skin caused her legs to burn against the heavy rubber of his suit, but Jessica didn't care. She tightened her grip on him, pulling her legs further up along his form until they were completely entangled.

Matt could feel himself harden against her thigh and he began grating against her skin, the tightness of his suit allowing little release. As he tried to pull back, Jessica latched on even tighter - her superhuman strength making it impossible to drag himself away. She thrust one hand into his thick brown hair and pulled aggressively. Matt gasped, but soon found his open mouth covered with her own, Jessica's tongue probing every inch.

The straining of his suit began to suffocate him and Matt used all his energy to rip apart from her and sit back on his knees. Jessica let out a soft whine. She was laying on her back, her breasts exposed, her skin glistening with sweat. Matt could make out the sheer black of her eyes, her pupils blown out by lust. For a moment, he thought of tearing off his suit and fucking her until she screamed his name in ecstasy. For a moment, he wanted to be nowhere else but on top of her, inside her, consumed by her. But the moment passed when he heard the faint sound of keys jingling down the hall and the screech of tires out on the street. He was pulled from the fantasy, smashing painfully into reality.

Matt brought his hand to his own face, brushing down the length of his forehead, his fingers scraping against his stubble. A frustrated sigh cleared his clenched mouth, before he said, "I'm not sure this is the best idea."

"Okay," Jessica replied, before sitting up. Her movements forced him back off his knees and onto his feet at the foot of the bed. Just as quickly as she'd disrobed, Jessica reached to the floor, rummaged for her discarded bra and heaved it back around her torso. With a groan, she hooked the fabric, then twisted it around, the cotton like sandpaper against her skin. By the time she had it covering her once naked breasts, Matt was reaching for her - but she was up and out of the room before his hands could find their target.

Her feet padded against the hardwood, as she made her way to the kitchen. She pried the fridge open and fished for her newly purchased six-pack - grabbing a can of beer and breaking it free from the plastic ring.

Jessica cracked open the top of the can and leaned her head back, taking the entire beer down her throat in one long, exaggerated gulp. When it was done, she crushed the aluminum in her hand and tossed the empty on her bare kitchen counter.

"You okay?" Matt asked, appearing in the kitchen archway, standing on the other side of the refrigerator door.

"I'm fine. You?" Jessica peered down at the suit - it was tight and thick and she could only imagine how hot he was, how strained he felt inside it. Matt might have shut down their foray into sex, but Jessica was sure he had wanted her. She knew every part of him ached.

Matt chuckled in reply. "I've been better. But are you sure you're okay?" He tentatively reached out for her.

"I'm not candy glass, Murdock. I won't break down in tears because we didn't fuck."

"I just thought, with your nightmares-"

"I know what you thought," she told him. "But I didn't tell you about my nightmare because I wanted to be saved. And I sure as shit didn't tell you to make your dick weak."

"Then why did you tell me?" Matt asked.

Jessica slammed the fridge door closed and stepped toward him. "Because we're fucking friends, Murdock. Partners even." She groaned aggressively, throwing her head back in frustration. "Ugh! I can't believe I'm saying that, but it's true."

Matt smiled, but Jessica shut it down. "Don't do that. Don't get all cute." Matt opened his mouth to say something, but she barrelled on. "And don't apologize or rationalize or make this a bigger thing than it has to be."

In the past, Jessica had used sex to quiet the anxiety that crackled just under her skin. It was anxiety Kilgrave has fostered, then left behind even after she had freed herself from his control. With him she was immovable, lying beneath him, powerless. Since then, she had made sure to keep sex always moving, limbs laced into one another and hungry growls constantly filling the air. She needed sex to be the kind that broke bed frames and woke neighbours.

She had loved sleeping with Luke, even if she hadn't loved him - not really, not the way a man like Luke Cage deserved to be loved. Their sexual styles matched, as did their roughness. Jessica knew she could throw him back, jump into his arms and violently kiss him without causing bruises; without scaring him away. It was freeing and the antithesis of everything Kilgrave had forced her to be.

But thinking back on what she knew of Matt Murdock, Jessica wasn't sure their bodies would fit together. He would ask her what she needed, what she wanted, and give it to her unconditionally. He would be kind. He would make her feel… and Jessica wasn't sure that was something she could do; she wasn't sure she could be that vulnerable with him.

"Let's go back to bed," he suddenly said, pulling her from her thoughts.

Jessica shook her head.

"Come on, partner," he told her, playfully.

Jessica scoffed. "No. No way, Murdock. I don't want a pity fuck. Besides, something tells me peeling you out of that suit might be more trouble than it's worth."

"I can keep it on."

"I don't know how you do it, Devil Boy, but I'm all about skin to skin," she teased, stepping closer to him.

Matt smiled, his eyes shining with air of ease Jessica hadn't realized she'd been longing to see.

"I'm not going to fuck you," he told her. "I'm just going to hold you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

20 minutes later, Jessica was back in her bed, under the sheet, clad only in her underwear. Matt was still wearing his suit, just as he said he would - and it created a barrier between them, but Jessica didn't mind.

The night had gotten away from her; everything had happened so fast. One minute she was at Danny's safe-house formulating a plan, the next she was giving assurances to Malcolm in the hallway, and the minute after that she was having a memory-fuelled nightmare in Matt's arms.

Now, they were curled together, both lying on their sides, facing towards one another, their arms slung over each other's midsections. He could hear her heartbeat and she could feel his breathing. They were intertwined in a way Jessica had thought couldn't exist for her - a shared personal space she had never truly shared.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Jessica finally said, her eyes closed, her voice steady. It was a rare apology that later she would chalk up to her lack of deep, meaningful sleep.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Matt replied, honestly.

"I tried to have sex with you," she reminded him.

Matt chuckled. "Well, that hardly seems a reason to apologize. If anything, I should be saying sorry to you."

"For not giving in?" she joked, her hand slowly moving up and down his rubber clad torso, the sheet gently falling away from his midsection.

"Yeah, I guess," Matt said.

"We could be fucking right now."

"We could," he tightened his grip on the space above her smooth hip, and let his fingers graze the soft cotton band of her underwear. "But then everything would change."

"In my nightmare, Kilgrave makes me tell him I love him," Jessica suddenly revealed. It was an admission she had not shared with anyone but Trish - and to distract herself from the raw edges of her memories, she continued moving her hand along his suit, wishing she was touching Matt's bruise-tainted skin. "He makes me do things with him, for him... to him. And the whole time I'm screaming inside myself that it's wrong; that I hate it."

She stopped to catch the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding - her hand flat and hard against his stomach feeling the heat rise from inside his suit and into her palm. "But he's so gentle, he's so loving, like we're in a relationship. Those lines just get all blurred and now…"

Matt sighed heavily. Jessica refused to open her eyes, afraid to meet any expression of sorrow that might be colouring his face. Suddenly, she hated that she'd told him; hated that she had been so honest. She tried to expel the memory of Kilgrave from her mind, tried to push it out of existence, but as her heartbeat quickened, Matt's hold on her only grew.

Slowly his arms became wrapped around her completely, and his forehead gently rested on her own.

"I don't want to use sex to get closer, Murdock. I just want to be close," she told him, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

Matt placed his lips to her skin, feeling a slight crinkle as her forehead tickled under the touch of his stubble.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When she woke again, the afternoon light was cascading into her apartment. She yawned, big and loud, before stretching out on the mattress, her arms and legs filling the space Matt had once occupied. She knew he would be gone the next time she opened her eyes, but feeling it, feeling alone was awful - especially when she remembered what had transpired.

I tried to fuck Matt Murdock, she thought. And he said no.

While that was a bit revisionist on her part, Jessica knew it all boiled down to a pass made and not received. Perhaps he would know her better now, know what she had been through and why she acted the way she did - at least with men. Or perhaps he would forget it all, pretend it had been a bad dream - just like the one she'd had that forced him to stay. Whatever had happened between them, she knew she couldn't let it get in the way of their work. But the ache in her stomach, the need for that release was still there - only this time she wouldn't be trying to quiet her anxiety so much as trying to imagine what it would have felt like to have Matt Murdock inside her, cupping her face with a gentle hand and whispering compliments in her ear.

Jessica rubbed her clit hard, bringing herself to orgasm at the thought of fucking the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, before shuffling to the fridge and cracking open a breakfast beer.