1963-09-02 - Chance Encounter
Summary: A chance encounter in a Hell's Kitchen pub.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
danny daredevil mr.smith 

Friday night in Farrel's is always a sight to see. It's elbow room only, from the bar to the booths. A thick group of people are huddled around a television set that's been crammed up into the corner of the bar, where the reception is good, and when the Giants score a touchdown, the place goes nuts.

"I still can't believe you're crazy enough to take that case!" Foggy Nelson tells Matt Murdock, as he joins him with a pair of whiskeys, poured over ice.

Murdock sniffs at the air, then smirks ruefully. "Bit early for hard booze, Foggy."

"Not when the Giants score, it isn't!"

The two men offer a toast, and drink down a fair portion of their drinks. It's a good night. Let's hope nothing spoils it.


Out front of the building a large pitch black car comes rolling a practical shadow gliding across the ground smooth and elegant as a dream. The outside is perfectly hand polished so bright that it's like looking into a mirror the custom built car driving for what seems an hour from the front of it to that passenger side door.

It's a one of a kind Bugatti Royale type 41, in perfect condition with a number of modifications made to it including the engine which practically purrs as it rolls to a complete stop. A man jumps out from the front passenger seat of the car running around to open the door, yet from within steps not a man dressed in the finest of suits, some rich playboy, with a supermodel under each arm. No instead who steps out is a small elderly man dressed in a simple vest over a white shirt with orange aviator sunglasses. He's not very strong or impressive looking but he holds a friendly and warm smile across his face as two more lower key cars pull up at either side of the beautiful monstrosity of a luxury vehicle.

Inside each of the other cars is a man in an identical pinstriped suit with matching hat their uniforms are dark and hidden as they wait out in their cars. The engines turn off and the world grows somewhat more quiet. Mr.Smith walks his way towards the front of the Bar one step at a time, the door is held open just for him, as his very nice car starts to pull off back down the street.


Danny doesn't live in Hell's Kitchen. She lives in a swanky penthouse in a nice part of town. But lately the heiress has been seen around Hell's Kitchen more and more often, asking questions about the neighborhood, trying to get to know people. Rumor has it there's a tenement building she's interested in investing in. That must be why she's in the bar tonight, buying rounds for a table here and a table there.

"Look, Foggy. It's not crazy. I have a plan."

"I'm sure you do," Foggy answers. "But…" Just then, Danny catches his eye. Foggy turns and stares.

"Well, go on," Matt says. "Go say hi, buy her a drink."

"She might buy me a drink," Foggy grumbles. "Be fitting, considering how broke we are."

"Go on." Matt kicks Foggy out of the chair, then sits back and looks on with a rueful smirk as his best friend does something very brave. The sounds from outside, however, have certainly captured his attention. He looks away just so, shades covering eyes that aren't quite looking at the door.

"Uh, hey there." Foggy sidles up to Danny. "Haven't seen you in here before, have I?"


Mr.Smith pulls out a small roll of cash, offering it towards the man who'd gotten the door for him. He makes his way into the pub, followed by a few men who take their spots at different sections of the bar in order to keep an eye on things, as he finds his own spot, right by Daredevil of all people…


Danny's blouse and trousers aren't exactly the usual bar attire, but when Foggy comes up to her, she turns toward him with a swift smile. "Probably not," she replies cheerfully, holding out a hand. "I'm Danny. You a regular here?" Noisy bar or no, she doesn't seem to be worried about being approached, at least.


"Oh yeah," Foggy answers. "Matt and I come here all the time. I'm Foggy." He offers a hand, then beams. "We're lawyers."

Nevermind the second hand trousers and slightly wrinkled shirt.

"Popular guy," Matt remarks when Mr. Smith settles nearby. "Please tell me you aren't the President or something. Farrell's doesn't need that kind of drama." He looks toward Smith, just… not directly at him, as a blind man is wont to do.


The vest wearing man is about to say something when Matt speaks up. There's barely a moments pause before he just starts laughing loudly, he wipes a nonexistent tear from his eye. "No, son but trust me if I was things would be run a lot different, I tell you what." He's waggling his finger but of course it's likely to be lost of Matt. "We'd have a lot lower taxes at least." His face is cracked wide into a smile, as he calls over towards the bar. "Next three rounds are on me."


"Lawyers, huh? I've got one of those," Danny laughs to Foggy, taking his hand with a comfortable grip. "Jeryn Hogarth? I don't know how much lawyers talk to each otheras an industry thing, honestly. But it's nice to meet you, Foggy." Before she can offer to buy him a drink, the next three rounds are on…someone else? Brows rising, she pushes up on her toes to get a glimpse of where the offer came from.


"Higher taxes may be a burden," Matt tells Smith, "but social services and the progress of our country is worth it, wouldn't you say?"

"Hogarth," Foggy winces. "Too expensive. Decent fellow, but overrated, I tell you-" Foggy, it seems, is similarly distracted by the offer of rounds. He lifts an eyebrow, then mutters to himself, "Now that's the definition of 'old money'."


There's a light cheer as Mr.Smith stands for a moment people kicking back their drinks in order to grab fresh. He's dressed rather simply not at all the type to have arrived in such a very nice car as he did, and yet here he was offering drinks for everyone. Just a moment standing with those orange tinted aviators before he's right back in his seat.

"Like they say, everything has a price." Another light chuckle escapes his aging lips as he runs a single comb back through his hair to make sure it's in place. "Names Mr.Smith, it's a pleasure to meet you Murdock, I've heard a lot about you." Saideven as he gives a light wave back to the bartender who looks very shocked to see that face in his pub.


Danny chuckles to Foggy. "Expensive, maybe. But he's an old family friend, and he does good work with the business. Keeps the board off my back when I get it into my head to actually make a decision and do something I want to do. Of course, he also tends to advise against walking in and ordering three rounds for the whole bar, so he can't be all bad."


Where the vast majority of the bar rushes to down their drinks, clamoring about to get their free rounds? Matt doesn't budge. He eventually lifts the whiskey to take another drink, casually leaving his attention upon Mr. Smith. His eyebrows rise, and a small laugh escapes. "Really. I'm just a small time attorney, Mr. Smith. Nothing high profile." He reaches up to scratch at his head then, about to let it be.

"I hope my choice to represent the Cavassini defense isn't causing too much of a ruckus." It's the bait… in that moment, Matt begins eliminating the din of the bar from his senses, focusing solely on the man he's conversing with. His voice… the rate of his breath… the beating of his heart… even the heat emanating from his skin. Such things can tell quite a tale.

"Yeah," Foggyanswers Danny, partly distracted now. "Not exactly the way to keep a low profile." He looks back her way, then nods his head toward Matt and Smith suggestively. "Curiosity doesn't always kill the cat," he bargains.


"I like the way you think, Foggy," Danny winks back at the lawyer, starting to work her way through the crowd pushing up to the bar. She probably has an easier time of it than poor Foggy, for all that. Small, attractive women just get that extra edge when it comes to moving through a crowd.


"I'll admit I think there are much better ways to use talent like yours." Smith lets out a light chuckle, and takes a sip from a small mug that is brought to him by a man in a suit, who slips back into the crowd. "That said, it's none of my business who you support, and who you don't." He shakes his head a bit.

"I like to keep an eye on important people." Is added as he gives a nod towards Danny. He speaks slow and calm even as the chaos goes on around him an island of control in the eye of a storm. There's something just friendly and fatherly about the man cultivated or not it's there. "Call it a hobby."


Smith's response has Matt smiling broader still. "I'll give you that." He lifts his glass to finish the whiskey, then turns toward Matt and Danny as they draw near.

"Got your next round," Foggy says, and sets a fresh bottle of Schlitz down before Murdock. He then looks to Smith and says, "Hey there."


"Are you the benefactor of the evening?" Danny asks Smith with a smile as she slips up to the bar. "Thanks for that." It's a bottle of beer for her, the same stuff she's been drinking all night. And for all she might not be thrilled that her own round-buying has been interrupted, she doesn't show it. "Big Giants fan?"


"Not the word I'd use, but works well enough." Mr.Smith gives a broad smile to her eyes squinting somewhat as he bears bright white teeth his orange tinted glasses are pushed right up the bridge of his nose. "Trust me, always feels good to support a local business." He pauses for just a second. "I have some money running on the game, but I'm not too worried." Spoken as if he already knows for a fact exactly how the game is going to end.


There is a moment where Matt and Foggy look at each other, thinking the same thing. The two are quite zoned in on each other, it would seem. "Oh," Foggy says, distracted for a moment. "Uh, Matt? This is Danny. Danny, Matt Murdock, Esquire."

Behind the shades, Murdock rolls his eyes at Foggy. He turns and offers a hand blindly in Danny's general direction. "Hello." A pause, then a gesture toward the elderly gentleman. "Mister Smith, Foggy Nelson."


"Nice to meet you Matt, Mister Smith," Danny nods to each of the men, offering a hand in turn. "Danny Rand." All right, maybe she might be name-dropping just a little bit. "Always nice to see the neighborhood get out and spend some time together, right?"


The Giants suddenly make a royal mistake on special teams, and the Bears manage a punt return all the way to the end zone. The bar erupts in roars of anger, and a few bottles end up broken.

Matt grimaces, before smirking. "Until that happens," he remarks. He turns to look for Mr. Smith, who is nowhere to be found.

"Almost seems like someone threw the game," Foggy remarks.

"You're telling me."


"And there goes our new friend," Danny muses, glancing around with a shake of her head. "Well. Might as well enjoy the next couple rounds, right? Be a waste when they're already paid for."


Foggy and Matt look to each other, before raising their bottles in a toast to Danny.

"Cheers," they offer, only seconds apart.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License