Work Text:
Long weekends at Parker, Kent & Specter mean two things:
1. Everyone comes in tired.
2. Matt Murdock comes in exactly as always — calm, neat tie, unreadable expression, already halfway through a brief by 09:02.
Except today.
Today, at 09:02 on the dot, Matt walks into the office looking like he slept twelve hours, drank sunlight for breakfast, and was personally blessed by the Pope. He has a permanent smile — soft, small, and completely unstoppable. Like something inside him is glowing.
It’s subtle, but unmistakable — like someone took the usual Murdock Neutral and dialled it up to “boyishly happy.”
He’s wearing his usual suit. Usual tie. Usual cane.
Very unusual left hand.
There’s a ring on it.
A simple one. Gold. Clean. New.
He does not mention it.
He just sets his bag down, opens a file, and starts working like nothing is different.
The bullpen, however —
They all completely lose motor function.
A paralegal elbows an associate.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“What?”
“His—his hand—look at his HAND.”
Someone gasps. Loudly.
“HE’S WEARING A RING.”
“NO—NO WAY—NO WAY—”
“IS HE—IS HE MARRIED?!”
Foggy strolls in behind him with a coffee, looking tired but extremely smug.
“Morning,” Foggy says.
The bullpen instantly throws themselves at him.
“FOGGY.”
“What happened?”
“Is that a WEDDING RING?”
“DID HE—”
“WHEN DID HE—??”
“WHY DIDN’T WE GET AN INVITE?”
Foggy holds up a hand. “Alright, simmer down, everyone. One at a time, or I’m leaving
They all immediately line up like toddlers.
One brave soul whispers, “Is Matt… married?”
Foggy shrugs like it’s the most casual thing in the world.
“Yep.”
Half the office collapses like fainting goats.
“WHEN?”
“HOW?”
“He didn’t even announce an engagement?!”
“Was it a ceremony?”
“A destination wedding?”
“Does he have pictures?”
Matt, still smiling at his documents, says, “My hearing isn’t broken.”
They all jump. Foggy leans against Matt’s desk. “You wanna tell ‘em, bud?”
“No,” Matt says simply, flipping a page. “I’m working.”
Foggy rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
He claps his hands to gather attention.
“Karen and Matt went to the courthouse on Saturday. Real small thing. Just them, the judge and me as witness-slash-best man. They exchanged vows, signed the papers, kissed, job done. Extremely efficient.”
The bullpen screams.
Not literally. But very nearly.
“WHAT??”
“THEY GOT MARRIED THIS WEEKEND?”
“AND HE JUST CAME IN LIKE THAT?”
“He didn’t even—he didn’t SAY ANYTHING—”
“Matt! Are you seriously married right now?!”
Matt finally lifts his head.
“Yes.”
“You—you’re just— YOU’RE JUST SAYING IT LIKE YOU ORDERED TAKEOUT.”
Matt shrugs patiently.
“It’s a matter of fact.”
The whole office is vibrating.
Someone dares, “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Matt shrugs mildly. “None of you asked.”
Foggy chokes on air.
Another coworker sputters, “You didn’t think showing up married counted as news?”
“I assumed the ring would explain itself,” Matt says.
A paralegal slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, he’s serious.”
Someone finally blurts, “So — you and Karen — this is like— forever-forever.”
Matt’s smile softens just a fraction.
“Yes,” he says simply.
And the bullpen actually goes silent for a moment, like even they know better than to mess with that tone. They gather around his desk, buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.
Matt sighs, amused.
“You get five minutes,” he tells them, gesturing calmly. “Then I’m going back to work.”
Then the barrage begins:
“Are you going on a honeymoon?”
“Does Karen have a ring too?”
“Did Foggy cry?”
Foggy starts, “Nope, absolutely not—”
He gets cut off, “Yes.” Says Matt.
“Matthew.” He shrugs.
Matt continues flipping through his folder like nothing is happening.
Foggy whispers under his breath, knowing only he could hear, “Told you you’d end up with a ring before the summer.”
Matt just smiles back at him.
Someone else squeaks, “Why didn’t you tell us you were planning it?!”
Matt pauses, thoughtful.
“I didn’t know I was planning it. Karen said we should get married. I agreed. We went to the courthouse.”
And finally, someone whispers, “What does it feel like? Being married?”
Matt considers it. Then, “Good,” he says simply. “Like waking up and someone is still there. Like peace.”
The bullpen melts into puddles.
Foggy sighs happily. “Yeah. He’s gone.”
And that’s that.
Matthew Michael Murdock:
Newly Married.
Deeply in love.
Extremely calm.
Refusing to elaborate.
And frankly, he’d love nothing more than to be with his wife right now.