Matt lay on his back and slowly dragged his fingers along the length of Calina's bare back.

Up and down.

Up and down.

She'd fallen asleep shortly after they'd made love. Her head was a warm weight on his chest and one of her arms was draped across his stomach. He was bathed in her scent, and the room resonated with the sound of her steady heart beat.

He'd never felt more content.

He stifled a yawn, and held his own slumber at bay - he didn't want to miss a moment of having her in his arms like this, naked and sated and his.

His fingers strayed to the skin beneath her arm and she shivered in her sleep. His smile widened. He wanted to know all of her sensitive spots and the places that made her moan and the ones that drove him wild with her scent. This morning had given him a starting point. But he had a feeling it would take hours, days - the rest of his life - to fully satisfy that need.

Her arm tightened around his waist as she rose back to consciousness. She nuzzled into him, her hair tickling his chest...then she froze.

"Did you forget where you were?" he laughed.

She pressed a kiss to his skin. "No. I was worried it was just another dream."

That admission turned his smile bittersweet. He was glad she dreamt of him - of them - but he hated the idea of her waking alone. He hated the idea of her struggling to sleep, the way he did when she wasn't with him.

And he hated the idea that she would be leaving soon. "How long can you stay?" he asked softly.

She sighed. "I'll need to head back tonight after it gets dark."

He gathered her closer and rolled them over so she was beneath him. Then he tried to put on a smile. "I guess we'll just have to make the most of today then."

He leaned down to kiss her, but she twisted her head away and his lips landed on her cheek instead. "No?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, her head still angled away. "But I need to go brush my teeth first. I should have done that earlier...before."

"I didn't care then, and I don't care now," he mumbled against her skin, his lips painting a path towards her ear.

She giggled. "I do!"

She pushed against his shoulders until he reluctantly rolled off her. She scooted out of the bed and darted into the bathroom while he grinned at the simple domesticity of it all. He could imagine them like this, years into the future, spending lazy Saturdays in bed, teasing and touching while they tried to decide what to do with the rest of their weekend.

He'd never really thought about the future in that way. He'd definitely never pictured that kind of life with Elektra; everything with her had been so rooted in the present - she'd been too unpredictable and volatile to ever think about making long term plans. The brief relationships with Clair and Karen had been just that - too brief to imagine where it could lead.

But with Calina...everything felt possible. It should have scared him, how committed to her he already was. How essential she was to his life now. But it didn't feel scary.

It felt...right.

He just hoped she felt the same. They were in such different phases of their lives, after all...

He tried to banish that thought as she padded back into the room, accompanied by the soft rustle of fabric and the scent of his own cologne and laundry detergent. She was wearing his shirt - the one he'd discarded last night while changing into his Daredevil suit. He sat up and reached for the hem. "You don't need this."

She batted his hands away and laughed. "I do! I'd rather not prance about the place naked."

"No one will see you. Not even me."

"Hmmm, so you're conveniently blind now, is that it?"

"Sweetheart, I've had my hands all over you. Your shape is burned into my memory. I don't need sight to see you."

She just laughed again as she crawled back into the bed and sat beside him cross-legged. She leaned over and pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Merry Christmas." She dropped something onto this lap.

He ran his hands over it, feeling the edges of a flat, rectangular box. "What's this?"

"What do you think? It's a Christmas present. I'm sorry its not wrapped - I bought it ages ago and hid it on top of the cupboard where you store your suit."

He lifted the lid off the box and found a sweater inside, made of incredibly soft and light material.

"It's silk cashmere," Calina explained. "I thought you might like the feel of it. And it's dark grey, so it'll go with anything."

Matt rubbed his fingers over the fabric. It felt so luxurious - and so much more expensive than anything he could afford to buy himself. "Thank you. I love it."

"Yeah?" She sounded so pleased. And he realised this was probably the first present she'd ever bought for someone. For anyone.

And that made him feel strangely honoured.

"Yeah," he replied. He cupped the back of her head and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.

Then he twisted around so he could reach the bedside cabinet and retrieve the package he'd stashed in the bottom drawer weeks ago. He passed it to her. "Your turn. Merry Christmas, Calina."

He heard her tear open the padded envelope and pull out the book inside. "'The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde'," she read.

"You said it was one of your favourites, so I got you a leather-bound collectors edition. Its supposed to be illustrated as well."

She didn't say anything, and he couldn't read her silence. Did she like it? Was she disappointed?

"I know its not r-romantic, or anything," he said. "I bought it before we...I just thought you might like to have your own copy, rather than one from the library."

Her soft lips met his, and he sank into the contact. "I love it," she whispered into the kiss. She leaned back and stroked his cheek. "It is one of my favourites. And its also the first book I ever read to you, so its more romantic than you think, Mr. Murdock."

Matt laughed softly. It seems his subconscious had been trying to express his love, long before his heart and mind had caught up.

"If I'd known you'd be here, I would have wrapped it. And I would have made the place look more festive. I don't even have a tree. Before all this happened, I wanted to make this Christmas special for you. I'm sorry-"

"Hey," she interrupted, placing two fingers against his lips. "If I wanted a tree, I would have stayed with the Widows. We have a huge tree, and decorations coming out of our ears. We even taught ourselves to make egg nog and sugar cookies. If I wanted that kind of Christmas I would have stayed there. But I wanted you. I wanted to be with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We were having a big Christmas Eve dinner yesterday, all of us around this huge dining table, and it was piled high with food and everyone was having fun...and all I could think about was you." She shrugged. "So I left."

"I'm glad you did."

"I didn't want to regret missing this experience with you. Life is too short...and too precarious."

He frowned at her. "Did something happen?" Had she had a close call in the field? One that made her suddenly worry about regrets and missed opportunities?

"Yeah, something happened," she admitted, and his stomach clenched at the thought of her in danger. "I saw that video of you falling off a 10-storey building!"

"That damned video!" He groaned and collapsed back in the bed...but then lifted his head again as her choice of her words registered. "Wait, that wasn't a fall," he protested.

She scoffed. "That was definitely a fall. A very impressive and flamboyant fall, but a fall nonetheless." She smacked the back of her hand against his chest. "It scared the hell out of me."

He groaned again. "Now you sound like my mother."

"What?"

"I saw her last night. And she said the same thing."

Matt could sense Calina's confusion. "But I thought...You said..."

Matt sighed and pulled her down so she was lying next to him, tucked against his body. "I told you I was an orphan - and that's the truth, but it's not the whole truth."

"What do you mean?"

"Growing up it was always just my Dad and me - I was told that my mom died when I was a baby. And when my Dad died I was sent to the orphanage. I lived almost my entire life believing I was an orphan. But then last year, I found out my mom was alive. And that she was someone close to me."

Matt explained about Sister Maggie's past. Her postpartum depression and the decision to leave her family and return to the church. And he told her about finally discovering the truth. "I was lied to, all those years. By a man I trusted and looked up to. And by the woman who'd cared for me when I was a lost, lonely child."

"I'm so sorry," Calina whispered. She threaded an arm around his waist and stroked his back, trying to offer comfort. "I can't imagine what that must have been like."

Matt laughed bitterly. "It was a lot. And it all happened at one of the worst times of my life. I lost Father Lantom soon after, so I never got the chance to really come to terms with what he did. He just asked me for my forgiveness with his dying words...and I couldn't deny him that."

"No," Calina said, brushing the hair from his forehead. "You're not the kind of man who would do that."

"I had to make a conscious effort to forgive and move on. And to accept that their actions - their lies - led me to the place I'm in today. They led me to becoming the man I am. To becoming Daredevil. And I can't regret that."

He remembered the conversation he'd had with Maggie last night, about God's plan. "Everything that's happened to me, has happened for a reason. And one of those reasons is you. If I wasn't Daredevil, I never would have been able to save you from that serum. You would have been lost to me forever. So I can't begrudge the choices that made that happen. It was all worth it."

———

Calina closed her eyes and burrowed closer to Matt's warm body, unsure how to process such a beautiful admission. He thought that everything he'd experienced in his life, all the lies and betrayals, the beatings and the struggles, had all been worth it...because it had brought him to her.

It was overwhelming, to be the recipient of that kind of love.

Overwhelming...and undeserved.

She loved Matt, with all her heart. And she wanted to make him happy more than anything. But could she really make up for his lifetime of pain and suffering? Was she really worth all that?

"What are you thinking?" Matt asked, wrapping his arm around her.

She wanted to spill all her darkest and most shameful memories. She wanted to wrench herself open and let him see exactly the kind of person she was deep inside. She wanted him to know her, and banish this idealised version of her he seemed to hold in his mind.

She wanted him to see that she wasn't some grand reward for everything he'd endured in his life.

She was barely more than a consolation prize.

But she was terrified of driving him away. She couldn't bear to lose him. So she gave him a hint of the truth, instead - not the full picture, but enough of herself to crack the veneer that he saw when he looked at her. "You're a much better person than I am, Matt Murdock."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't forgive, the way you can. And I definitely can't forget. I can try to move on from the things that were done to me, but its all still there inside. Like a wound that will never heal. Festering with all the anger and resentment that I can't let go of."

He stroked her hair and held her closer. "What happened to you was horrific, sweetheart. It will take time-"

She shook her head sharply against his chest. "No. I'll never get to the place you're in. You have your faith, Matt, and that comforts you with the belief that everything we go through is part of some larger plan. That it has meaning. And I'm glad that it does for you, but I'll never have that. I'll never see meaning in any of it."

"You don't need to. You don't need to forgive anyone either, or forget about what they did. But with time, that wound will start to close over. Little by little, the edges will come together. By living your life on your terms, and finding your own happiness, you will start to heal. I promise."

Calina nodded, but the action was a lie - she didn't accept what he was saying. And he wasn't understanding what she was trying to tell him either. About the darkness that she held within her. That black hole of rage that she tried so hard to suppress.

But she let it go. She didn't want to spend these precious few hours with him going down that road.

And the selfish part of her that didn't want to risk losing him, sighed in relief.

———

"Do you want another drink?" Matt asked later in the day. They were in the living room, finishing off their version of Christmas dinner - take-out turkey burgers and sweet potato fries from the diner round the corner. The food was spread out on the coffee table and Calina was seated on the floor in front of it, still dressed in Matt's shirt. Every so often, she would dip her head down and try to capture his scent on the fabric. She wondered if he'd notice if she took it with her when she left...

"Callie?" Matt said, a smile in his voice, as if he'd caught her sniffing his clothes.

She didn't care. Because he'd called her 'Callie'.

It wasn't the first time. But the few times he'd used that name so far it had always been during times of heightened emotion. Like when she'd come to him after being dosed with the mind control serum. And in the cabin when she was in the coma. Or when she broke down in tears last night.

This was different. He wasn't trying to comfort her or coax her back from an abyss. He was just calling her name.

The name he'd given her.

Her very own nickname.

"Sweetheart, what is going on in your head right now?"

Sweetheart.

Another nickname.

She couldn't decide which one she liked better.

"No," she said, replying to his first question - while completely ignoring his second. "I don't need a drink."

He laughed and shook his head. She pushed her plate away and propped her head on her hand as she watched him flit around the kitchen. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tight black boxers and she was absolutely loving the view. And it wasn't just the expanse of muscle on display. She loved watching him navigate around his space and the assured way he moved, so economical and precise. The proof of his amazing senses.

She loved watching him.

She just...loved him. So much.

And she was so happy in this moment. Her earlier reservations about their relationship - and the unrealistic way he saw her - had faded as the hours had passed. Being with him like this made all her fears seem to fade into insignificance.

She only wished she could stay forever.

She picked up her plate and joined Matt in the kitchen. They worked side-by-side cleaning the dishes and putting away the leftovers. Then he grabbed a beer from the fridge and collapsed back on the couch. Before she joined him, she rummaged in her bag for the one bit of Christmas decor she'd brought with her.

It was silly, but as soon as she'd seen the little branch of plastic mistletoe, she'd imagined kissing Matt beneath it. And she wanted to make that small dream a reality.

She walked up to the back of the couch and dangled the mistletoe over his head. "Merry Christmas, Matt," she said. "Again."

He lifted his hand, feeling the sprig of white berries, then tipped his head back and smiled at her. "You don't need that to get me to kiss you. You'd probably need something to get me to stop kissing you."

She leaned down and brushed her lips against his. "Now why would I want to do that?" she murmured into the kiss.

She felt his smile beneath her own, a strange sensation given that his face was upside down. She slanted her mouth over his to deepen the kiss, but the angle was all wrong. He obviously felt the same, because he growled in frustration then pulled her over the back of the couch. She landed in a sprawl, half in his lap.

"That's better," he said, leaning down to resume the kiss. She melted into it - and against the strong arms holding her up.

They stayed like that for ages, just enjoying the taste of each other. But then suddenly she was airborne as Matt picked her up and turned her around to lay her flat. He crawled on top of her and she wrapped her legs around his waist to accommodate him on the narrow couch.

"This is even better still," he said against her neck.

"Is it?" She tilted her head to give him better access. "There's a whole big empty bed just through that doorway, you know."

"Yeah, but you must know the rule about getting a new piece of furniture?" His lips trailed down her throat and he shifted to fit against the cradle of her thighs.

"No," she breathed.

"You have to break it in."

She laughed. "You're making that up."

He lifted his head and smiled down at her. "Swear to God. And you know how seriously I take that, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

It sounded even better when his voice was low and husky like this. When his warm weight was pressing down against hers, and she could feel the imprint of his lips against her skin. It made her want to purr, and stretch, until every inch of them connected.

She wondered if it would feel the same for him.

She brought her hands up to cradle his face, and scratched her nails through his stubble, trying out her own version of a term of endearment. "I do know, Dusha moya." It wasn't a direct translation of 'sweetheart' into Russian. It was more like 'my soul'...but the sentiment was the same.

Although it didn't feel quite right.

As he turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand, she tried again, this time in Swedish. "Älskling," she breathed.

Beloved.

She raked her fingers through his hair. "Caro mio," she said in Italian.

My dear.

She leaned up to kiss the sensitive spot beneath his jaw. "Ya hayati," she murmured in Arabic.

My life.

She ran through all the affectionate names she could remember from her language lessons and the ones she'd come across during her missions across the world, trying to find the one that best conveyed how much he meant to her.

"Nefesim," she said in Turkish, tracing her hands over the muscles in his back.

My breath.

"Yeobo," she whispered in Korean.

Darling.

"Schmusebärchen," she said, and hid her giggle against his shoulder. She'd once heard an elderly woman call her husband that in Berlin, and something about it had made her pause, even in the depths of her emotionless, mind-controlled haze.

Little cuddle bear.

Matt lifted his head from where he'd been lavishing attention on her neck. "I thought you were being all romantic and sexy with those foreign terms, but now I'm feeling like the butt of some joke."

"I'm sorry," she said, getting her laughter under control. "Mon cœur," she added in french.

My heart.

"Okay, I think I got that one," he said, rubbing his nose against hers.

"Mi amor," she whispered in Spanish.

"I definitely got that one."

"Good," she said, in between kisses. "Because you are."

My love.

———

She tried out another name for him later that night. After the couch had been 'broken in', and after they'd gotten dressed - her in her biking gear and him in his Daredevil suit - they stood on the rooftop, hidden from the world by the pitch black sky and the cloud-covered moon. She leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"I'm not ready to let you leave," he murmured.

"I know, Malysh," she said, calling him 'Baby' in her native language. "But just think of the day when this is all over. We'll be able to spend so much time together, you'll get sick of me."

He tightened his hold, his laugh muffled against her hair. "Impossible."

"You never know. I'm told I can get pretty annoying with prolonged exposure."

He laughed again. "Who told you that?"

"The other Widows. Although it might have something to do with all the moping I've been doing lately."

"Foggy and Karen would probably say the same thing about me." He leaned back and cupped her jaw with his hand. He pressed a kiss against her lips. "I'm going to miss you so much."

She sighed and brushed the hair off his forehead. "Me too." She stepped out of his embrace and gave him a little nudge. "Now go. Your city needs you now."

He nodded, then put on his mask. He gave her one last kiss, took a deep breath as if to capture her scent, then took off running across the rooftop. He leapt out of sight, and Calina's heart disappeared with him.

———

She sat at the end of the pier and watched the sun rise over the harbour.

She'd arrived back in Maine over an hour ago, but she wasn't ready to return to the base. She wasn't in the mood for Yelena's judgemental looks or the inevitable questions from the other Widows about her relationship with Matt.

She wasn't in the mood to put on a smile and hide how she was really feeling...which was pretty damn miserable. The hours-long journey had given her too much time to think.

And none of her thoughts had been good.

As her bike had devoured the miles on the deserted stretches of highway, her mind had tried to rationalise everything she'd been through in her life.

Being taken from her parents. Tortured over years in the guise of training. Brain-washed and controlled and sent out in the world to inflict pain on others. All that suffering and loss and abuse...

She wanted to find the kind of peace that Matt had with his circumstances. His belief in a higher power and a grander plan gave him the kind of comfort and acceptance that she desperately needed. It gave him purpose, and the strength to keep helping the world around him. It had shaped him into the good man that he was.

A man that she wanted to be worthy of.

So despite her admission to him yesterday that she could never forgive, never forget and never accept what had happened to her...she tried.

She tried to let go of her anger. She tried to let go of her resentment and her bitter hatred for the men that had ruined her life.

She tried...and failed.

She just couldn't see a way past those emotions. Not until it was all over. Not until Volkov was dead and every last member of his faction was eliminated. Not until the threat of being pulled back into that world and back under control was gone, once and for all.

She sighed and leaned back on her hands as she watched the orange and pink glow take over the sky, the rays warming the chilled air around her. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the flap of wings of the sandpipers flying overhead.

It was so serene.

She wanted more of that in her life. She wanted simple pleasures, and calm thoughts, and security. She wanted that flickering ember of rage within her to finally snuff out.

She wanted to be happy.

At peace.

And there was only one way that was going to happen.

She stood up and dusted off her jeans then strode back along the pier to her parked bike. Her little vacation was over, and it was time to get back to work. The Widows needed to redouble their efforts to find Volkov and end this limbo that they were all stuck in. They needed to do whatever it took to bring him down.

Because the sooner they did, they sooner she could get back to Matt...and the sooner she could start her life with him.

END OF PART 2