Coffee Shop Catch-Up (SC)

[Deleted]

NOTE: THIS TAKES PLACE DURING the story: The Crime of Being What You Are.

It was Friday. Cold, brisk even for January, but that didn't bother Matt. Given what happened to him the night before with Nuke, he was sore from head to toe, and the cold both helped him notice the pain as well as become numb to it. It made him scowl despite himself. Who was that woman breaking into the Way residence (not that he was much better doing it himself, but he admitted he at least didn't torch the place,) and why did she feel compelled to purge evidence? And why did she have a guy like Simpson in tow? He wasn't exactly a mercenary. Nothing added up and his head pounded.

He stepped inside the coffee shop, the warm air and smell of coffee flaring into his nostrils and touching his skin welcoming. For a moment it made him forget about the Way case and he realized he was hungrier than he realized. Fortunately this coffee shop prided itself on organic sandwiches which were actually not that bad, even to his enhanced senses. He hailed the barista, a woman from the sound of her voice, probably late teens he gathered from the tenor, who then realized he was blind and began to list off their menu. He waved her off gently and told her what he wanted, to which she breathed out in what he gathered a relief and went to the register. He pulled out his wallet and extracted a crisp bill folded vertically in half down the length of it, indicating that was his ten dollar bill, and handed it to her, telling her to take the change as tips.

It took a minute, the breakfast rush was really setting in, but he got his order and took a seat on one of the comfy lounge chairs they had by the wall. He took a sip and began to mull over his thoughts again. Sometimes, he admitted, even with the evidence he discovered, he worried that his knowledge of such due to his nights as Daredevil would compromise his case as Matt Murdock, defense attorney, especially in a domestic violence case. It was going to get ugly before the end, he just hoped he could redirect the knockout blow...

[Super Chick]

Mornings were a wonderful time to walk through the city. They were so crisp in the winter and surprisingly peaceful when you found them right before a morning rush hour. This morning was no exception. Natasha walked along the sidewalks in the brisk morning air, filing her lungs with frosty air. She exhaled leaving a long line of steam behind her to disappear into the light breeze of her wake. She had no official agenda this morning, but that didn't mean she had none. Natasha happened to know where an old friend was very likely to turn up, and she had a mind to see him.

Natasha turned the next corner and saw the coffee shop that was one of Matt's favorite haunts in the morning, and quite possibly one of the only ones. He was quite particular about the places he frequented because his senses demanded the perfect blend of aroma and noise allotment. Clientele was a plus, but not as necessary as how it affected his senses, however having his servers be attractive young women was always an amenity Matt couldn't refuse! Natasha couldn't help but smile thinking of how Matt enjoyed acting as if his blindness was so encompassing while inwardly appreciating every curve and detail of the women around him.

She paused by the large window outside the cafe and looked inside. She spied Matt right away, but examined him with a trained eye as he picked up his coffee cup and proceeded to drink. There was a light tremor in his hand, almost imperceptible, but for someone who had known him intimately and made a point to know every tick and habit, Natasha understood this to mean his night had been a difficult one. Likely he was injured in some way no one could see. Natasha considered this and knew it was a wonder it was not worse. The Daredevil was never someone who backed away from a fight no matter how intimidating or dangerous the opponent. He would always persevere as both warrior and friend.

The spy dressed in casual clothing entered the coffee house after many others had gone before her. She did not go to the line immediately, rather she walked toward Matt's table. The red-haired lawyer in dark glasses would have probably sensed her heartbeat as soon as she came in (something that yet astounded her whenever she gave it thought), so there was no reason to keep him waiting. Her own red locks fell over his shoulder as she leaned over from beside him and kissed his cheek.

"Good morning, Matt," she greeted softly. Natasha remained close to his face and added with gentle concern, "Rough night?"

[Deleted]

He smelled her perfume on the air before a trained heartbeat followed it. He knew it down to a science. Subtle, but strong. And enough to send any man into a euphoric frenzy if they got too close. Natasha Romanova, the Black Widow. His mind flickered to a memory of her and he, from a time long ago, but he shook it off as she approached his table.

He didn't answer her straight away, though he winced with a very slight more animation than was actually necessary.

"Well a friend's wall needed redecorating," he said dryly, speaking in a way that if some casual passerby overheard them, it would come off as small-talk. In actuality he really meant "I was put through a wall while working on a case,"

He waited for her to react, which was usually a snort or light chuckle. They had been doing this for years: She would show up inexplicably the morning after he gets pummeled while on duty, usually they would catch up before either she offered him a job that would likely get himself killed that he would, one way or another, accept, or she would offer sage advice and make him look like an idiot while doing so. Though given their stances during the Civil War, the past few years also had the added option of them having to play the game of cat and mouse with him "evading" arrest from the Black Widow, who had been ordered to take him in, usually by Maria Hill. He would escape of course, he always did. Even when they had him in their grasp during the Mysterio debacle a few months back, he evaded an unmasking. Was that because of Tasha? He never did find out who gave the order to keep his identity secret considering Tasha, Cap, Agent Coulson, AND Nick Fury all knew who he really was. The thought made him take a sip of his coffee to hide a shudder at the thought. Too close, he admitted to himself, though he wasn't sure if he was referring to that memory, or the fact that he just realized how close Tasha was to him. Dammit.

[Super Chick]

Natasha noted his animated wince before his reply then snickered softly. She intentionally was not loud knowing how close she was to his ear, so barely any sound escaped her lips, but Matt would hear it. He would know. She breathed gently and looked down over him one more time before she stood back up. He didn't appear too injured for a change, and at least there was nothing wrong with his money maker (face). That most likely meant it was a one sided fight, with Daredevil the more powerful or a quick one. Or he simply walked in on something he wasn't supposed to and the perpetrators fled. Natasha tilted her head. That was most often the way things went. Daredevil interrupted a crime in progress and the bad guys took off before he could beat them into submission and either get the information he needed or tie them up and call the cops. Still, he did mention the wall. He had to have gotten at least one of them.

"I'm sure you did a thorough job," she remarked.

The spy analyzed his words against her knowledge of him and decided that if it was important, then he would tell her. Otherwise she would drop it. They didn't fight crime together anymore and hadn't for a long time. Thus, the Widow would stay out of his business inasmuch as was possible. Besides, he didn't look all beaten up. She'd seen him in far, far worse shape. So this was a small thing. She didn't need to know.

Natasha pulled out the chair beside Matt, making sure to lift it form the floor so it didn't scrape on the wood and make a loud, obnoxious sound. Old habits she'd learned to help be kinder to his senses still remained ingrained in her. She removed her coat before sitting and hung it on the back of the chair. Then, Nat sat and pulled in the chair mostly beneath her (again off the floor) until her knees touched his. She settled herself and smiled at the man who shouldn't be able to see her, then she lifted his cup of coffee noting a slight shudder in his frame, imperceptible to most. Thw Widow paused its progress toward her lips and asked permission.

"May I?" she asked.

[Deleted]

Matt motioned with a hand to allow her to sip, not that it made a difference, she was going to take it regardless. He leaned in and made an expression of casual conversation, though he relented and figured she would probably want to know he went a few rounds with Nuke. Fortunately for him, most of Nuke's shots were body blows, easily concealed by his suit and the fact he was not moving and had long since learned how to breathe without looking like you had broken ribs. He might have had, he wasn't entirely sure. He would have to call Luke Cage later to get a consulting medic, and that alone made him groan. The thought made him grimace and adjust his seat. He admitted to himself he was surprised that she didn't pick up on using her own spy trick against her: Avoid eavesdroppers. Or maybe she did and was waiting for he to come to her. And he fell for it hook, line and sinker. Guess his mind was elsewhere. So he sighed and decided to drop the pretense a little.

"It was Frank Simpson. And he wasn't exactly giving a whole lot of details on what he was doing being a contractor. In fact he was talking in a rather bizarre way, even for him. Still, he looks pretty spry for a guy who is supposed to be in SHIELD custody," he said, figuring Tasha probably should know, or likely did know that SHIELD had an escaped convict. He could hardly qualify an ex-soldier with borderline personality disorder an asset even for SHIELD's pet Thunderbolts project, and given what happened last night, he probably wasn't. Then again, who was he to talk...

He glanced about and didn't feel any heads turn his way or heartbeats skip slightly as they do when a person eavesdrops on something they're not supposed to and panic when it is something serious, especially in a world of masks. Tasha was, inscrutably, unreadable. This irritated him. Even Elektra, the only other person alive besides Tasha and Foggy to know he and his abilities intimately, was more expressive. Assassins, super-spies turned Avengers, and ex-military psychopaths. He chuckled inwardly, though his expression did show he did: He finally understood Spider-Man's complaint about wondering why being normal was almost a vacation. He used his expression as momentum.

"But enough about madmen with flags painted on their heads; what brings you here to this neck of the woods instead of Midtown? Certainly not the organic cucumber club sandwiches, which are surprisingly good around here, though Foggy refuses to acknowledge anything "overpriced" in his view," he said, finally turning the conversation to her lap: What was she doing here? Any opportunity to do so would have been months ago when he was involved in a SHIELD investigation, not a domestic violence and wrongful incarceration case. His tone retained the same casual flippancy, but he was being serious. He took a small bite of his sandwich, chewing very slowly, his jaw almost not moving between gnashes, studying her now as she was no doubt studying him. He ticked off one of his pawns on their mental chessboard.

[Super Chick]

Natasha nodded a thanks to Matt for allowing her to take a drink of his coffee. They weren't an item anymore, not as a team or as lovers, but sometimes Natasha almost forgot that fact and treated the man as if he were. They were still quite good friends in spite of their often on-again-off-again relationships (working and otherwise), but Nat did her best to remember his things were not free to her anymore. She gave that respect by waiting for his affirmation about the coffee, but that was just a small way she could show it. The other ways, Matt usually had no idea she did them and that was precisely the way she liked it.

He leaned in closely and provided her a small snippet of his action from the night before. Natasha took another sip before setting the mug on the table. She kept her hands around it to warm them and leaned in equally to show her interest as much as to keep Matt from needing to speak very loudly. Her eyes, like Matt's senses, kept alert for any eavesdroppers. They need not know Matt was Daredevil, even if there were rumors, rumors which were probably not helped by her public affiliation with the man, but then Natasha was often reliant on people not caring as much about what was going on around them as they were about themselves and all the things they had to accomplish. Besides, she wasn't in uniform so to most it would simply look like a woman having breakfast with a man. Nothing to see here.

She took in every detail of Matt's story, from Nuke being escaped from SHIELD to his speaking in "a rather bizarre way." She heard Nuke was no longer in SHIELD custody, but it had not concerned her any more than had someone told her Johnny Storm had a new lover. It was information, and information was always of value if you knew what to do with it, but Nuke was not something she had felt she needed to pay attention to other than to know he was back in the game, as it were. Now she considered it may be part of a bigger picture, especially if he were less than himself, and something she may consider looking into.

Even as she processed this information, her mind was the only thing working. Her face was as practiced at giving nothing away as was her heartbeat. A trained spy from a different era with two lifetimes of experience, Natasha did not even stop to consider the frustration this continually caused Matt. (Though, to be honest it was something she attempted to work on when they were together. She just wasn't choosing to do so now.) So when he moved the conversation forward without her speaking, it simply continued the flow of the morning without interruption, and as such Natasha did not visit the topic of Nuke with Matt.

She smiled at the emendation of Foggy and took another sip of Matt's coffee before fully releasing it back into his care. "I'm just here to see you, Matt. Nothing beyond that," she replied easily. There was no skip in her heartbeat, nor would there have been regardless, but there was no lie in her words. She had simply come to see Matt and ensure he was doing all right. Of course she knew SHIELD was still looking for the Daredevil, and if they had credible evidence it was Matt then they likely would have tried to use her to get to him, but Natasha had seen to it that nothing beyond rumors ever crossed Hill's or Tony's desks, and rumors could not be prosecuted.

"I'm here all by myself. Promise." Natasha leaned back in her chair and relaxed again. There was nothing to be said that required whispering at this point. She crossed her legs under the table and fiddled with a napkin on the table. "I just wanted to check in with you. See how you're doing. How Foggy's doing. How the firm is doing. All for absolutely no reason beyond that I care." She smirked gently. "It's what friends do."

[Deleted]

Matt didn't say anything for a good three seconds before he opened his mouth. He didn't quite buy it, but he would take it anyways, if only to avoid conflict. So he changed the subject, starting with something humorous.

"You were right, you know. That one time in the park. I did wake up a week later and thought just as you said I would," he said, this time intentionally trying to get a laugh out of Tasha.

"As for Foggy, well, he's still Foggy, though I think his mood has lightened ever since the reparation payments from the Bugle came through. He's probably catching up on his Netflix until I get back to go over our current case," he said and while he didn't mention any sensitive information, Tasha was still what essentially amounted to law enforcement, he did mention that Matt Murdock had gotten himself involved in a domestic violence case, and that Daredevil went to investigate what should have been an open/shut case before Nuke and his handler arrived and torched the place.

He took a bite into his sandwich, this time a proper one, and waited for Tasha to process what he said, and either give a response to that, or even give info on her recent dealings. After all, he wasn't the only one in the room with a double life and despite giving the cold appearance of antagonism, which was to be expected considering who her boss was, he did still deeply cared for her. Bullseye once called him "A desperate man and his lovers," and he admitted privately, he wasn't wrong. Even when things had long since faded, sparks always seemed to exist, even when both participants pretended like they were not. It was a bizarre way to live. Tasha probably knew about his nervous breakdown after Karen's death as well, and he made a move to mention it, but then stopped himself, figuring it best in the past.

[Super Chick]

Her understanding of Matt's paranoid personality allowed Natasha to recognize that the man was not completely buying her story. His pause told her as much, and then the deflection. Natasha was a spy with a helluva good memory, so she knew what Matt was talking about when he mentioned her telling him that he was going to wish he has slept with her when he had the chance. God, but that was a lifetime ago! Still, it brought a chuckle out of her as she allowed Matt his deflection.

"Oh, I know," she replied in fun. Perhaps she didn't know, but the Widow was always good at intuition. Her intuition had told her where Matt's mind had been in spite of his actions. He simply confirmed it.

The man went on to speak of Foggy and how he was doing. Natasha knew next to nothing of the other man's Netflix addictions, but then he wasn't a big player in the events she was often concerned with these days. It used to be that Natasha could have told Matt more about Foggy than even the man even knew about himself, but those days were in the past. Certainly she kept abreast of his health and general well-being, if he was still Matt's friend and partner and basically how he remained in relation to her former partner. But his personal habits, any women in his life, or his eating habits were simply unimportant. Thus, hearing that he was relieved over the payments by the Bugle remained entirely within character for the law partner. As such, Natasha remained indifferent to the news and simply watched Matt take a bite of his sandwich.

"It's good to know that some things never change," she commented while he chewed. Something in Matt's features changed momentarily and Natasha got the distinct impression Matt wanted to say something. Another thought simultaneously stopped him, however, so Natasha never knew what it was. She would wonder about it, but she wouldn't pry. They were friends and the man was not on trial, despite his ever-lingering paranoia with her.

Natasha sighed. She wished the two of them could simply speak freely, but it was apparent that Matt still wouldn't let his guard down and be himself. Natasha really just wanted this morning to be herself with someone who knew her better than really anyone else. It was cathartic for her, and she hoped it could be for him as well. Sadly, thus far he was still too concerned with her employers and affiliations to remember who she was. Nat was determined to help him remember.

"I get the feeling that you still don't entirely believe that I'm here just for a casual visit with an old friend," she said. "I know who I work for, Matt, who I'm dating and the team I'm on, but believe me I am not your enemy. I would never let anyone take you, SHIELD or otherwise. You're too good of a man for that and, frankly, the city needs you right where you are. So...," Natasha reached for Matt's hand and touched it. "Read me. Touch your fingers on my pulse. Feel that my hands are not moist and I am not in any way nervous or lying when I tell you that no one is waiting around the corner to catch you."

She leaned forward again, holding his hand in hers and coming closer to his face as she tried to peer through his dark glasses. "Look into my eyes, Matt," she whispered. "I will never betray you. That is a promise."

The former spy remained only inches from his face, staring into those dark glasses for the eyes she knew so well beneath. He may be blind, but she knew he could see more than most men saw with their sight. She waited and when she felt she was possibly getting through to Matt, Natasha said, "Tell me what can I say or do to help you relax."

[Deleted]

Matt could smell past her perfume now and down to her skin. For a woman who was constantly getting shot at and goodness knows what else, she was shockingly clean. He should have expected no less, given her methodical nature. He let a smile escape his lips at her comment about "looking into her eyes," even though he technically could never do so. A fraction of him longed to reach out and close that distance, the emotions he buried deep down struggling to break free. He started to reach a hand out, to feel her skin under his touch again. He throttled that impulse and leaned back.

"I am sorry, Natasha. It isn't your fault. Had things been different a few years ago, well, I don't know what would have been to be honest,"

They sat there for a moment in silence, letting the awkward tension dissipate before he spoke, his voice almost inaudible.


"I know you wouldn't betray me. I just... A man's life is on the tenderhooks because of a similar situation and here I sit and then you and..."


His voice had trailed off. He couldn't see her, but she was there all the same, unflinching, and not moving despite himself. He sighed heavily, like the world was on his shoulders. Sometimes he felt like it was, even though between them they both knew others that literally had that responsibility. Reluctantly, he snaked his hands across the table to her wrists and found her pulse on each side. Sure, a trained spy's heart rate could be trained to duck a polygraph, even his own audible one, but it was tougher with physical contact. He felt her reflexively wince under his touch, a natural human reaction that she ought to have trained to avoid, but that was a good sign; had she not flinched, he would have had reason to worry.


"May I?" he asked, mirroring her own words as he moved up her arms towards her face, but stopping just outside her neck, his hands hovering steadier than a trained surgeon's. If he wanted to trust her, he knew in his heart that he would have to let go of Daniel Way's case for a moment and allow himself a selfish impulse. It would not change their situation between them, but that torch would never die. He never admitted this to anybody, not even Foggy, and he would not admit it so here, but he was a man haunted by every woman in his life. Every feeling of joy, sorrow, happiness, and pain, he carried them with him at all times, and it was why he kept his guard up: He loved them. All of them. And he always would. If he allowed himself to indulge too much, he would tumble down into a place he would not get out of so easily. He wondered for a moment if Natasha realized this; maybe she would. Would that change anything? Probably not. He felt his own heart rate beat hard in his chest to where it pulsed audibly in his own ears. His mouth felt dry. He closed his eyes, despite it doing absolutely nothing.

[Super Chick]

Natasha never shied from common colloquial phrases that had to do with eyesight around Matt. He wasn't that sensitive to such things, and she was a firm believer that had she tried to protect him form things that might hurt his feelings then he would have been offended. The pair of them always played it straight with one another. That was what made them work - and precisely why it never lasted. There was simply no way to take the deadly assassin out of the spy, and there was no way to take the moralistic ethics out of the lawyer. They were compatible on so many levels, and incompatible on the ones that ended up mattering most. It was how they remained friends, and why they would never be more.

He hesitated then she saw him try to make himself relax. Natasha knew she had gotten through to him at least on some level, but he was still paranoid enough to have to "see" for himself. Mat at first took her by the wrists to feel her pulse. Natasha had nothing to hide, so she didn't mind. (If he perceived a flinch, it was simply a natural reflex of the body to the pressure applied to her skin.) His hands worked their way up her arms and paused at her shoulders. Natasha let his hands touch knowing his intentions, so when he stopped and asked permission to touch her face, the woman had no reservation.

"Absolutely."

It was intimate, perhaps, but not inappropriate. For any onlookers in the cafe it would simply be a blind mad trying to see the face of the woman in his company. Natasha did not shudder at his touch even when it invited memories of more affectionate times in their history. She let him touch her and see for himself that she was not lying. After all, if they lost this trust between them then they had nothing left and Natasha was not prepared to let such a friendship slip through her fingers. True friends were rare in her line of work, and that made Matt something special.

[Deleted]

Matt placed his hands on her face and allowed her skin, its familiar soft to the touch feel inviting back both memories of the past and thoughts of the present. Her face felt hardened but expectant, as if determined to break through his guard. He didn't blame her, he always did this with pretty much everybody. After lingering for a moment, he dropped his hands slowly and returned them to the centre of the table.

"For somebody who spends their days under the gaze of tyrants, warlords, and maniacs of both the noble and malevolent varieties, you seem sad," he said, the richness of his own words lingering in his ears given his own emotions being laid bare in front of her, not that he could hide them from her even if he wanted to.

There was so much more he wanted to talk to her about beyond the job. Was she seeing anybody? Latest things that caught her interest? Thinking about the little things made him feel like they weren't soldiers and demons in a world where few would understand them as each other did. Sure she was a murderer not unlike the Punisher, and yet something about her always let him almost look passed it all. Perhaps his eyes were not the only blind thing. It was funny, really, he would take down Frank Castle and Elektra as quickly as he would Wilson Fisk or Bullseye, and yet Natasha... He couldn't put his finger on it. Because she was an Avenger? He considered that as he looked away briefly. No, that wasn't it. Maybe it was because she had a devil inside her too. She did what she did not out of pain, not out of vengeance or fun. He thought back to the nights she would return after he did almost ready to collapse under her own feet; not because she was injured, but over what she had done, that in her private moments where she thought he had been asleep and allowed that cold mask to slip. But he heard her. Every night.

A compromise then.

"This is usually the part where I would talk shop, but then we would proceed to poke fun at the others. To be fair, recent weeks would warrant a thing or two. Did you hear about what happened with Mysterio?" he asked, his voice started slow, carefully choosing each word before it built momentum.

[Super Chick]

Natasha allowed Matt's hands to wander over her skin. His touch was light and lingering and it sent shivers over scalp, but Natasha didn't react to them. She could not afford to revisit those memories anymore. They were friends, she was with someone else, and Matt was not necessarily as stable as he used to be. Natasha still feared for the "Man Without Fear." Maybe that's why she was here.

He finished and Natasha felt like she'd lost something when he took his hands back to himself. The contact helped her to remember once again how close they used to be, and everything they had lost. It was fleeting, but it existed. Natasha shook off the nostalgia as he spoke into their silence. He thought she was sad, and perhaps that was as good of a description as any. She was sad, but it was not for the reasons he might suppose. She did not elaborate on it, however. It simply was not something she felt was wise to bring up here. Besides, this was supposed to be a light, friendly visit. Throwing the weight of her worry about him into the mix would only make him defensive and pull away.

A few more heartbeats ticked by and Matt changed the subject. He was obviously having a difficult time formulating his own words at first, which implied his thoughts were not far from her own. But he pulled through the awkwardness and asked if she knew what happened with Mysterio. The Widow found this as much shop talk as whatever he was trying to avoid, but she went along with it in order to bring them into a place of mutual comfort.

"No," she replied honestly. Natasha relaxed against the back of her chair. "I've been out of the country a lot recently and haven't had a chance to catch up with current events." She fiddled with a napkin between her fingers on the table. "Do tell. What has the magician done this time?"

[Deleted]

Matt took a sip of his coffee, which he could feel beginning to cool as he picked it up in his hand, before continuing on.

"Funny story, actually. Couple of months ago, he appeared to have pissed off a particular SHIELD squad of which Squirrel Girl was apart of. So much so they had actually set up a sting operation in a bank so obviously a trap that not even a drunken soccer hooligan from Yancy Street would try to rob it. Well he did and a whole mess followed. Daredevil even briefly got taken in by SHIELD and beaten even further to death by an agent after having been shot a dozen times saving a civilian caught in their crossfire. How rude," he said, his tone sounding thoroughly bemused. "However rumor has it, he wasn't unmasked. Curious, isn't it?" he asked, though he probably knew why he wasn't.

He then doubled back to her remark about being out of the country.

"As for where you've been, well, that would explain why you would walk into Hell's Kitchen in the middle of a gang war. Ever since Mr. Negative has been jockeying for position in Fisk's absence, nobody is here unless they have to be. Unless you count Elektra,"

He paused for a moment.

"Should I be concerned with what you have been doing out of the country, or is this simple Avengers work?" he asked, his voice regaining that concerned tone, but lowered it in case he had an onlooker.

[Super Chick]

Natasha was not surprised when Matt told her of the sting SHIELD set up. She was used to some of their tactics being inept, especially those not directed by the upper echelons of the organization. Of course, Natasha's standards were much higher than most. It took a lot to fool her, but perhaps Matt stating that it was such a silly ruse said something in itself. Of course, Mysterio still went for it, although hearing that Squirrel Girl was part of things - a mutant agent who Natasha had the (ahem) pleasure of working with before - gave the spy a whole different perspective. It wasn't that the girl was entirely terrible at her job, but she was quite unorthodox to say the least.

Something in his statements that raised the ire within Natasha was hearing that Daredevil had been captured and beaten while in SHIELD custody. They didn't unmask him, which was odd considering their files proved nothing of his registration or identity. Instead they beat him up and released him. Natasha would have loved to have taken credit for his not being unmasked, but as she only scrubbed any of the information concerning his identity from their files and was out of the country at the time, his treatment was a mystery. Natasha determined to discover the circumstances and who was involved in the capture and subsequent beating of Daredveil before days end. The pieces didn't add up.

Curious, indeed.

Matt didn't miss a beat, just assuming Natasha had a hand in his not being held or unmasked. She let him believe it until such a time as she had more information. He spoke of the gang wars in Hell's Kitchen with Mr. Negative attempting to seize control in Fisk's absence. Natasha was well aware of the circumstances brewing here, but Matt should know she would walk into the Kitchen whether there was danger or not. Hearing Elektra had returned yet again was also unsurprising. The other woman was as enamored with Daredevil as was the Widow, but just as Natasha had discovered, a relationship with the masked man in red was not so easily accomplished. Instead, they both just seemed to keep finding their way back if only to check on him - or sometimes antagonize him.

"It's nothing to worry about," Natasha replied when Matt inquired about her activities out of the country. "Just a little cloak and dagger with some foreign terrorists," she said, dismissing his concerns. She released the napkin from her fingers and folded her hands on her lap. She brought the topic back to something that could be of consequence. "It's interesting that Elektra has returned to the Kitchen again, especially with the events happening of late. Have you had interaction with her, or is this something you've simply learned through your contacts?"

[Deleted]

Matt chuckled. Perspective. Given the last time the three of them crossed paths, he shouldn't be surprised she would bring the circle back to Elektra. He decided to go with the truth. Or, rather, as much of it as he could explain given his point of view; whatever Elektra did during the Shriek incident, he didn't technically interact with her. Still, the fact she was rather dismissive about her case involving terrorists made the temperature around him drop a degree. Translation: "Don't ask again unless you want to get a stinger in the neck," He had been on the receiving end of her Widow's Sting a couple of times. In short, he would rather take Cap's shield to the head, which he realized he did that too. He then suddenly realized he lived a pretty messed up life when he had taken in turn every signature move of the Avengers shy of the Hulk's fist and Thor's hammer, and even then he might have and just couldn't remember. Probably for the best.

"Remember the Shriek incident a few weeks back? She was apparently very helpful, but she never allowed herself to be caught within a few hundred yards of my general vicinity. I should consider myself lucky you went for the opposite approach," he said, his attempt at being humorous hopefully not coming off as glib.

"Up until that point, she's been nary a ghost. Daredevil's tried to look for her, but she's been covering her own steps too well. Besides, I think he and I have a common enemy these days to not worry about an ex-girlfriend with a penchant for impaling her conquests after kiss-and-tell," he said, moving away from Elektra. It was bad enough he had one ex directly in front of him, good relations or not, it was quite another to have that one and the cold-blooded undead assassin one on his mind. He remembered again to the last time they were in the same vicinity and in turn ruffled the back of his hair. He needed a haircut, he realized.

"Between you and me, I'd rather repeat the Mysterio incident all over again than stick you two in the same room. Suddenly the notion of a dozen 9mm rounds in my body seems less threatening..." he said, making sure his voice was yet again only so she heard that before taking a sip of his coffee to cover up that he once again let loose that he and Daredevil were the same person, which up until this point he had been careful not to reference. Plausible deniability. Yeesh, he thought to himself, at this rate he would have to check with his shrink if he had some sort of masochism. That was the third time in little over a minute he imagined getting his ass kicked. Paranoid much?

"All jokes aside though, we've been dealing with this for years. Some people though... Well they can't just put on a mask and take out their frustrations on people who deserve it," he said, thinking back to last night with Daniel Way. Who in the hell was 'Mrs. Alderbright?' And how did they get their hands on a guy like Nuke? And why were they involved in a simple domestic violence case? Sure, he had evidence that indicated his client wasn't guilty, the purgery confirmed that.

He took another bite of his sandwich. Wait. He wanted to facepalm, but resisted the urge.

"Tell me something; hypothetically speaking, what would somebody you cared for, but never actively did anything wrong to you, need to do in order for you to injure youself and make it look like they did it and worse so that they would get put away and you effectively away from them?" he asked. Tasha wasn't like most women, he knew this, but perhaps that was exactly what he needed: Perspective.