Sarah's return to work after her rescue mission with Matt was, to put it briefly...torturous.

Not in the literal sense, luckily. She had been partly expecting the literal kind of torture when she stepped into Orion, so she was both relieved and unsettled to find that Jason was nowhere to be seen—and that no one seemed to know where he was.

By just past eleven that day, Sarah already wanted to go home. Not only because her muscles were aching, and her head was pounding, and her eyelids kept wanting to close from a lack of sleep—but also because she'd had to answer the same handful of questions over and over again since she got there.

"Jason isn't in his office?" He sure isn't.

"Have you heard from him?" Nope.

"Wasn't he supposed to be back today?" Yes, but he's not.

"Do you know when he'll be back?" No, I don't.

"I have a meeting scheduled with him." Not anymore.

Different variations on the same conversation had happened at least fifty-three times, and she was ready to scream. She wished her desk was anywhere other than outside Jason's office, where she had to continuously tell people that he wasn't here, he wasn't answering emails or phone calls, and she had no way to get in touch with him. Several people seemed suspicious of her answer, as though maybe she had a magic mirror to contact him and was simply refusing to use it.

To be fair, it was odd that Jason hadn't returned from his trip to Chicago—if that was even where he'd really gone. If anything, Sarah had thought he'd come back earlier after McDermott's body was found, or at least once he found out his hired goons had lost their hostage. But there had been no word from him, to her or anyone else at the company. The silence was ominous.

His absence did have one upside: it gave Sarah the chance to do something she'd been meaning to do for a while. She gathered some innocuous files up on her desk—just invoices for office supplies that needed to be approved, things she would often take home to work on—and opened the bottom drawer of her desk, surreptitiously collecting the folder with the surveillance photos of Mrs. McDermott's and placing it under the other files. Then she slipped them both in her purse to take home. There was too great a chance of the photos being discovered at Orion, but at home she could burn them or shred them.

A woman who worked somewhere on the second floor approached her desk, and Sarah sighed, setting her bag aside as she prepared to answer the same question for the fifty-fourth time.

—

A few nights later, a massive thunderstorm rolled into Hell's Kitchen just as Matt and Sarah started their training session at the boxing gym. The rain had just started coming down as they arrived, and by the time they got warmed up and began it was fully pouring outside, and the sound of thunder grew closer and louder.

Inside, the two of them had other things to focus on besides the storm. The strange quiet at Sarah's work didn't sit any better with Matt than it had with her. The idea of not knowing Jason's whereabouts was concerning to him, to say the least. Matt had checked out the area around 59th where Sarah had mentioned dropping him off once, but there was no sign of Jason currently living there.

"So, no one knows where he is?" Matt asked, using his forearm to block Sarah's foot from making contact with his hip.

He heard Sarah's ponytail swish as she shook her head. "He's MIA for now, which is really creeping me out. But it does seem like you were right."

Matt cocked his head. Lightning whizzed through the sky above them; even from inside, Matt could feel it light up the outside air with electricity.

"About?"

"That guy not blowing my cover," she said, stepping back into position to try kicking him again. "If he had, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead, so...I guess he really did leave town like you told him to."

He felt twinge of guilt in his stomach. Of course the man Matt had threatened hadn't identified Sarah, but it wasn't because of any intimidation on Matt's part. That had been all Stick—always willing to blow straight past the ethical lines that Matt drew for the sake of his own sanity.

But despite how incredibly pissed he'd been—and still was—at Stick's interference, there was a part of him that couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had his old mentor not gone behind his back. What if his threats hadn't worked, and Sarah had suffered the consequences?

Matt rolled his shoulders, pushing the thoughts away.

"Keep your feet shoulder width," he reminded her instead of acknowledging what she'd said. Lying to her about what had really happened didn't feel great, but neither did the idea of telling her someone was dead because they knew too much about her. The safest middle ground seemed to be avoiding the topic altogether.

If she noticed his avoidance, she didn't say anything. But he wouldn't have been surprised to find that she didn't notice; she'd been more fixated on her training than usual tonight, and he was fairly certain he knew why. She'd gotten a small taste of what holding her own in a fight felt like, and it had sparked something in her.

Matt couldn't quite describe the change in her tonight, but it was certainly noticeable, and highly distracting. There was a restless energy blistering around her that he hadn't seen her bring into the ring before, and she seemed more intent than usual on getting the steps and moves right.

"Maybe he's dead," she said suddenly. As if on cue, another boom of thunder sounded ominously.

Matt froze. "What?"

"Jason. Maybe he got hit by a train in Chicago, and he's just...not coming back," she speculated.

Relief swept through him. "Right. Maybe."

They'd spent the first half of the night on new maneuvers, especially on incorporating more kicks into Sarah's collection of moves. Her legs were much stronger than her arms, and Matt wanted to make sure they took advantage of that. But for the second half, Matt insisted on going back through some of the moves Sarah was already familiar with; specifically the ones she had used during her fight at the lockdown facility.

Matt had just caught her by the wrist and lightly twisted her arm behind her, careful not to exert too much pressure. This should be an easy one for her; she'd done well the other night using it against an actual opponent.

Sarah did the first half of her counter perfectly; she moved into him instead of away from him, weakening his hold on her so that she could move her arm.

Matt braced himself for the next step, which should have been her sending a swift elbow to his ribs. But to his confusion, Sarah hesitated, then went the opposite way, trying to twist out of the hold instead.

It was the wrong move. Partially because it caused her to twist her shoulder into a more painful hold than he would have put her in, but mostly because it set her dangerously off balance.

Pressing his lips into a grim line, Matt caught her ankle with a sweep of his foot, knocking her to the floor. He knew she hated when he did that, but it was necessary. She was small and light; she wouldn't be winning many fights based on strength. She'd have to rely on speed and balance, and getting pinned down would put her at a huge disadvantage, so learning to stay on her feet was one of the most important things he could help her with.

As an added benefit, it acted as a solid deterrent for pulling bizarre moves like the one she'd just tried.

Sarah slowly sat up with a groan, but didn't say anything. She sat there for a moment, regaining the breath that had been knocked out of her.

Matt narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. They'd done that move a dozen times before. She absolutely knew how to counter it, so why hadn't she?

"What was that?" he demanded.

"Um...painful?" Sarah guessed, panting.

"You know how to counter that move. I was open. Why didn't you hit me?"

"I...forgot the move," she said with a shrug, and he didn't need to hear her heartbeat skip to pick up on the lie. What he wasn't sure about was why she was lying.

"You forgot?" he said, his eyebrows shooting up doubtfully.

"Mhm."

"Okay," he said casually. "So let's practice it a few more times, then."

"Uh...no, that's fine," she said with a vague wave of her hand.

"Sarah."

She sighed and struggled to her feet.

"I just...don't feel okay about hitting you where you're already hurt," she said reluctantly.

Matt blinked as it finally occurred to him that she was avoiding his injured ribs. He exhaled in frustration.

"That's not how this works," he told her.

"It's how it works for me," she countered. "Your ribs are hurt. Probably broken. You shouldn't even be training me right now."

"But I am training you. This isn't the time for you to play nice."

"I'll be nice to you whenever I like, thank you very much," she said. "Besides, you said when we started all this that I get to choose where the limits are."

"Yeah, limits for you. Not for me," he said in exasperation.

Sarah shrugged, her hair brushing against her shoulders. "You're the lawyer. Maybe you should have set more specific terms."

"You're serious?" Matt said. He wanted to be more annoyed with her for insisting on putting a few injured ribs ahead of important training, but it was difficult.

"Well...yeah. If you want someone to bash your ribs in so badly, go find a mob boss somewhere. I don't think I can do it," she said. Then, seeming to remember she was still within reach, she quickly added, "But, um, I remember the move in theory. So...you don't have to floor me again."

She rolled her shoulder tentatively. Matt would bet it was going to be sore later, and there was no point in pushing her further tonight. They'd been at it for a while, anyway.

"Alright," he relented. "Let's call it a night."

Sarah nodded. "Okay, yeah. Good idea."

Matt jumped down from the ring, then pulled the ropes up and held a hand up for Sarah to take as she followed.

"Also, please don't actually go find any mob bosses," she added, squeezing his hand before letting go. "They're probably scary."

Matt grinned. "Usually."

When they exited the gym, the pouring rain was still coming down. Matt didn't particularly mind that part, but he wasn't fond of the lightning he could sense cracking above him every minute or so, followed every time by a loud boom of thunder. It was disorienting, and kept him from going out to patrol when he wanted to.

Fogwell's Gym had an ancient plastic awning above the front entrance, just big enough for them to be both out of the rain and barely avoiding the various leaks above them.

"Great, all the subway stops near me will be flooded again," Sarah grumbled at the sight of the downpour. "Maybe that's the next organization we should infiltrate."

"What, the MTA?"

"Yeah," she said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "You want to make life better for New Yorkers? Go break some kneecaps until they fix the trains."

"I'll keep it in mind."

Sarah looked at the rain for a moment longer before turning to him. "We could just wait here for a cab to pass by and make a run for it."

There was no telling how long it would take for that to happen; the number of cabs on the streets seemed to mysteriously decrease by half whenever it rained.

"Yeah," he agreed, offering her a smile. "I'm not in a rush."

Another loud clap of thunder sounded above them.

"I guess you're staying in tonight?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah. No sense in going out in a storm like this if I don't have to. It would only mess me up."

"Besides, who knows what kind of freaky abilities you'd develop if you got hit by lightning," Sarah teased him.

He laughed as he leaned against the building.

"Let's not find out," he said. "Anyway, I have enough work to do at home tonight. This is as good an excuse as any to finally get it done."

"You're stressing about your court case?" she asked. Matt shrugged noncommittally. "It's in like two days, right?"

"Thanks for the reminder."

"Sorry. Are you ready?"

Matt let out a deep exhale.

"I'm not as prepared as I'd like to be," he admitted. "Usually with a case like this, Foggy and I would split the work. I'd do the opening, he'd do the closing. We'd work together on cross-examination questions."

"He won't help you?" she asked.

Foggy might have helped if Matt had asked, but he hadn't. He'd considered it, and even picked up the phone more than once, but in the end the idea of working the case with the tense coldness of their fight looming over them seemed less appealing than just struggling through it alone.

"Foggy has a meeting with a new client of ours that day," Matt said. That much was true, at least. "A business owner who's been targeted by some insurance scammers."

Sarah made an unimpressed humming noise.

"He could have rescheduled," she said under her breath.

"It's not his fault," Matt said. He wasn't just talking about the court case. For whatever reason, Sarah was of the opinion that the fallout between Matt and Foggy hadn't been entirely Matt's fault, and he still couldn't quite understand why. "I just haven't been working on it as much as I should have."

There was a pause where he heard the catch of her teeth against her lip as she looked away.

"Because you've been spending all your time helping me," she said quietly.

She wasn't wrong. A lot his time lately had been taken up by the entire mess with McDermott's body and Rob and his son. But it wasn't as though he could sit at home and do paperwork and leave Sarah to fend for herself, contrary to what he was sure she was thinking right now.

"No," he said firmly. "I've just...been busy in general."

Sarah sighed, and he could tell she didn't believe him.

"Can I help?" she asked. "Running through questions or something?"

"Are you especially interested in abstract torts?"

"Uh...yes I am," she said unconvincingly. Matt raised his eyebrows. "I mean...I'm sure I will be. Once you tell me what a tort is."

Matt laughed at that, but shook his head. It was sweet of her to offer, but he couldn't imagine she really wanted to spend her time going over legal documents with him.

"It's a pretty boring subject," he said. "Just a lot of tedious details that need to be gone over again and again, and then once more to be safe."

"Sounds perfect," she said brightly. "Let me help. Please."

"You really want to?"

"Yes."

Her voice and heartbeat were steady.

Matt tilted his head, considering it. It was hard to turn down her company, and he was tempted by the idea of getting his work done while also spending time with Sarah in a non-life-threatening capacity.

"I'd owe you dinner for helping me out," he said finally.

"What? No, I'm helping you because you used up all your study time helping me!" she protested.

Matt shrugged. "It's a deal breaker. No dinner, no torts."

It actually was a deal breaker, in a way. Since Sarah had stopped drinking she seemed to have started eating a little more—presumably because the lack of alcohol had freed up some extra money for groceries. But he still heard her stomach growl more often than he'd like, and he tried to take what chances he could to make sure she was getting food without her catching on to it.

"Alright. Deal," she said resignedly, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "You provide dinner, and I'll help you with running through your questions about...abstract torts."

"Good," Matt said. He jerked his chin towards the boxing gym doors. "I can't justify kicking your ass in there if you're starving. It'd be an unfair advantage."

Sarah laughed.

"Right, yes. That would be the unfair advantage," she said. "You know, I—"

She seemed to change her mind midway through her sentence, closing her mouth and shaking her head.

"You what?"

"Nothing," she said with a faint laugh. "I just never seem to be able to guess right with you."

Matt raised his eyebrows. "How so?"

"Well...I had kind of assumed that you'd kick my ass a little less now that we—um..." she trailed off with a vague wave of her hands. "And on the way over here I was trying to figure out how to convince you not to go easy on me. But that didn't end up being a problem."

She pointedly rubbed her shoulder at that, but Matt was still preoccupied with her previous point.

"Now that we what?" Matt asked, tilting his head innocently. "Have we been doing something different lately?"

Sarah wasn't playing along, much to his amusement.

"You're an asshole," she informed him, but she was laughing.

"Oh, you mean now that you keep kissing me," he said, as though he hadn't heard her.

"I keep—?" Sarah repeated indignantly.

"By my count," he said, greatly enjoying the rise in temperature around her face that told him she was blushing. He briefly wondered what she looked like with her skin flushed and her hair tousled from sparring. "But for the record, no. It doesn't change anything in there."

That wasn't strictly true. It certainly changed the level of effort took for Matt to keep his concentration on the training and not on any other thoughts.

"Huh. Well, if it doesn't cut me any slack then I guess I don't see any reason to keep doing it," she said innocently.

The smug grin dropped from his face.

"Well—let's not get hasty," he said quickly.

Sarah laughed, and as she did Matt heard the sound of a car turning the corner towards them. The smell of cheap plastic upholstery and stale body odor identified it as a taxi. Sarah noticed it, too.

"There's a cab coming," she said. "I'll see if I can catch his attention."

She stepped closer to the edge of the awning and started to raise her arm to flag the driver down. But as she did, the thought of getting in that dirty cab and leaving their safe and dry awning seemed much less appealing, and the idea of staying there with her a while longer much more appealing.

Before he could rethink it, Matt caught her hand and spun her back towards him, then kissed her deeply.

Sarah made a faint noise of surprise, but it was only a second before she kissed him back with equal enthusiasm. He brought his hands to cup the sides of her face, and the restlessness that had been crackling around her all night flared to life under his fingertips.

Of course, out of the million times that a New York cab had failed to notice someone frantically flagging them down, this particular driver had somehow caught Sarah's half-wave. The cab pulled up to the curb and honked.

Matt and Sarah broke apart reluctantly. He could feel her uneven breath skating across his skin.

"Wait for the next one?" he whispered.

Sarah was nodding before he even finished the question.

"Yeah," she said. He could hear a smile in her voice.

Matt waved the cab driver on.

"Sorry," he called out in the cab's direction, but it didn't carry through the rain. The driver hit the horn once more in annoyance before pulling away from the curb.

Sarah's laughter was cut off by Matt's lips on hers once more.