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"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art though among women, and blessed is the fruit of they womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God. Pray for us sinners now, and at the moment of our death."
Matt fumbles just a bit as he puts his rosary back into his pocket and sits a long time staring at the candles. Anyone who knows him at the Church of the Sacred Heart would likely find it to be a coincidence, but he likes the way he can feel the heat waves emanate from each of the candles. And it helps him think.
He gathers his cane and the satchel he carries (it is not a man purse) with his briefs, as he prepares to head into work here on a Saturday morning. The Rand case will make Foggy happy. It's lucrative.
With a bowed head, Matt opens the front door and lets out into the cool air. He's disappointed that the weather has taken a turn for the colder, but it shouldn't be long now. A wave of interesting sounds and odors invades his senses. Exhaust. The cabbie who plays skiffle songs louder than anyone should be aloud. Three parishioners back in the church are still murmuring their penance. A family sits down to breakfast. It is eggs and bacon and not much farther down the sidewalk he can sense her coming. His eyebrow twitches just a bit. He has not sensed her in quite some while. A right turn would have taken him towards Nelson and Murdock. He takes a left.
*
The fire escape an alley adjacent sees some movement. It's not loud by any stretch, but the quiet complaint of metal likely catches Matt's ears. The figure atop it moves nearly silently until it stops near a window. Slowly, carefully, the figure in black vinyl pries the fourth story floor window open, and almost silently climbs inside.
Once in the confines of the office, Natasha Romanoff's gaze shifts. It's fortunate no one is in at this moment. Her boots shuffle along the carpet towards one of the many filing cabinets.
*
Matthew's eyebrows scrunch as he senses her dip into the window. Breaking and entering. He'd better go check it out. He plays the part of blind man in a well practiced way until he disappears into the alley. He breaks down the cain and into the satchel it goes. From there he leaps impossibly high onto the bottom rung of a short balcony and, using the momentum of a couple of swings, he pulls himself over buy catching his waist upon the railing. From there it's just climbing, which he does quickly and quietly, but not so quietly she won't necessarily hear him. Each step of the way he loses more and more clothing, revealing a familiar fabric to her. He ditches his glasses in the bag which he also ditches and pulls on his mask as he approaches the window.
*
It's hard to sneak up on a spy. And the first rule of spying is: don't get made. Which is likely why Romanoff changes trajectory, and instead of finishing whatever task she'd had in mind, she's leaping out the window to knock Daredevil off his feet. There's nothing glancing about the weight she puts to the motion, and regardless of whether or not it lands, she catches the railing of the fire escape as a lifeline to prevent the four storey drop.
*
Daredevil knew he would likely take her by surprise. He also knew she would have a very stark and severe reaction. He figured the way it would go would be that she would tense, relax, and talk to him like, you know, a normal person. He never expects the boots to the chest to come. It doesn't help that his legs trip backwards over a railing, sending him into a slight fall, and a big landing on his back. He grunts.
"Dammit, Natasha. I /gave/ you back all of your stuff." He gives a half roll as he tries to get back to his feet.
*
Nat's gaze darkens and her jaw tenses as she swings over the railing, allowing herself to sit upon its bars. Her expression edges on severe, but the vaguest hint of amusement reflects in her green eyes, and, likely her voice, "Not everything, Murdock." She has few qualms about using his name despite their surroundings. It's possible she knows no one is in earshot. It's also possible she just doesn't care. With Nat, it's impossible to know for certain.
She slides off the bar, emitting a faint clang as her feet meet the step of the fire escape. "It's Natalie right now," she says before turning back towards the window in question. Her lips purse, and with a faint roll of her eyes, she draws the window closed. Plans cancelled, it seems.
*
Daredevil straightens with a wince, doing a mental check that everything is still attached and nothing is broken. It's still the same Nat. "What brings you to my part of the city?" he asks casually. It's not accusatory. He's sixty-two percent sure that if she's here for some reason, it is a good one. He's ninety-four percent sure, though, that she will lie to him. "Natalie," he adds as a sarcastic afterthought with a bit of a grin.
*
"Building plans," Natasha answers dryly. It's a lie. Not that it's easy to detect. It's possible Nat doesn't know the difference between lies and truth anymore — neither really get her blood pumping. She sniffs quietly and then more coolly notes: "Your part of the city seems to be undergoing a facelift. City Hall, since it went up in flames, doesn't have anything accurate anymore," there's a nearly 'oh well' quality to her tone, that Matt can probably identify as hamming it up for his benefit. Her tongue rolls over her lips and she hums softly, emitting a vibration into the air. "And you?" Her eyes trail passed him, "Coming from confession?" Her tongue clucks. "Don't you work in the other direction?"
*
"Smelled ya from down the way. You still wear the same perfume and it still mixes the same way with your skin," Daredevil turns his head as if he's listening to her heart. He always has trouble with Elektra and Nat. They're both the best liars he knows. He motions towards the window, "Anything you need a hand in?" Pause. "I know how you like to work on your own." Was that passive aggressive? It's not clear.
*
"Oh yes, I forgot. Hell's Kitchen is yours and yours alone. No one else here would ever deign to lay a hand on it, would they?" the irony in Nat's tone is unmissable. "Or," she taps her chin, "you were hoping for round two." She looks towards the window at the question at the notion of needing a hand and working alone, and Matt can hear the smile in her voice, "Necessity. You aren't exactly plugged into a larger network of vigilantes."
*
"You wouldn't make it through round two," Daredevil says cryptically as he reaches out with his senses, trying to gather if there's anything odd or going on within the room where Nat was spying. "Are you implying that you don't care for my methods? You're not the first one who has made that complaint."
*
"That's not how I recall things," Natasha offers in return. There's nothing really odd about the room in question. It's quiet, empty, and holds no people inside it. It's almost impossible to know why said room had her attention at all. "No complaint. Just observation." She actually shrugs following the thought, but even she isn't entirely sure why — it's not like Matt can see the action. "I would've thought your Catholic guilt would've gotten the better of you by now though."
*
"I imagine that you and I have very different viewpoints and that we recall things very differently," Daredevil says in response in the on-going tit for tat. He's not even sure they're talking about the same thing. It is a metaphor. "For which part?" Matt asks her, when she brings up his faith.
*
"All of it," Nat answers too-easily. She leans against the now-closed window. "You're not one of the angels, you know that," she glances over her shoulder towards a building down the road, but then returns her gaze evenly to Daredevil. "Just surprising you're still at this." She clucks her tongue and pushes off from the window to close some of the distance between them. She levels a look at Matthew, and cracks a smile, "I suppose angels don't instill fear in anyone though."
*
Matthew does not seem amused. As she approaches him, his head tilts and his tone is a bit salty. "I'm pretty sure you liked the fact that I wasn't an angel," he says with a smug grin upon his face. "I do what I have to, Natalie. Or Natasha. Or the widow. Or whatever you are these days."
*
Lack of amusement hardly acts as deterrent. "Whoever," Natasha croons. "The what is the objective, the who is the person." The smug grin is noted and met with wry humour, "I meant more about this gig, Murdock. But sure, take the innuendo and run with it." Her lips hitch up to one side. "I didn't think you had guilt about that." There's a pause. "In fact," her tone sounds like she's talking about the weather and whether it rained last week, "if I recall correctly, you cried out to the heavens more than once while pressed against me."
"So, no guilt about," her head tilts and she eyes the costume carefully, "this?" Her lips curve upwards, "And if there's no guilt, why the mask?"
*
Daredevil opens his mouth to say something but then comes up perplexed. He can't bring himself to answer her about them. Maybe that's too personal. Maybe he's hurt, or maybe he just doesn't want to give her anything on him. Either way, he's guarded. "The mask is for the people I care about. Foggy. Karen. You."
*
A long inhalation of breath acts a cover. But the faintest uptake in her heartbeat that she banishes almost immediately might be detected, even around her efforts to conceal it. And then, rather blandly, Natasha notes, "I can take care of myself. Of course, I'm not sure you believe that. Or ever did." She blinks owlishly before finally taking a step back and putting some more distance between them again. "Foggy and Karen I can concede. I don't belong on your list," her tone manages to remain even.
Inside the building, passed the office in question, movement may pique Matt's attention.
*
"You used to," Matt says quietly. "I knew you could take care of yourself," he adds. "I just wanted to matter long enough that I could help." He lets that lie, now, as things inside seem to be moving. His head snaps to attention as he picks up whatever is happening in the building and brings a hand up to his lips to make her aware that he thinks something is up.
*
Natasha glances up towards the sky and she mutters quietly, "Right on time," before reaching for Matt to pull him, with her, to line up, backs adjacent to, the wall beside the window. She reaches for the gauntlet attached to her wrist and extracts a black compact baton from each side. She just holds them. And waits.
Inside, the lights turn on, prompting Nat to level at look at Matt. She frowns slightly, and shakes her head before glancing back to the window. Movement inside, however, probably catches Matt's attention as two very large men noisily go through a filing cabinet at the back of the room. "Get the docs and leave. S'all we're fucking doing here," one says to the other. For the first time since he's encountered her, Matt can hear Nat's heartbeat increase. It's likely she wanted those documents.
The second man shakes his head, "Not all we're doing. Building's gotta go." And Nat's heartbeat increases again. Her head shakes slightly.
Natasha rolls her eyes and slides away from Matt to silently pry open the window again. The documents were a problem. Destroying a building? Yeah, that's not good.
*
Daredevil slinks against the wall quietly as he nods towards Natasha. As she goes for her wrist, he slides out his baton from the holster. She moves to open the window—he lies low, slides out his foot, and slings the metal bar as hard as he can towards the head of one of thugs, right between the curtains where they almost come to a close. From there he's scurrying to get inside. He's heard enough, clearly.
*
The second thug draws his weapon and begins to fire at the pair. He's met by a very swift kick to the chest that sets off his balance. "Gunfire apt to get police calls here?" Nat braces her own batons as more activity is heard in the hallway. Another roll of Natasha's eyes has her treading up to the filing cabinet and speedily flipping through folder after folder as thug-back-up seems to be racing down the hall. "Cover me," she states rather than actually asks.
The team of five thugs are making for the door, and seem to have the notion of shooting first and asking questions later.
*
"Eventually," Daredevil replies as he picks up his billy club, fastens it to the other one flips a few switches, and pulls them apart into nunchucks. There's a quick kick to the head of one of the thugs to make sure he's out before he slinks into the hallway. "I like to think of it as a timer," he whispers to Nat. "To see if I can knock them all down before the cops arrive."
There's an upwards swing of the weapon as it immediately takes out a light in an explosion of sparks and glass. Several gunshots ring out and light up the hallway where Nat cannot see.
The first thug is hit right in the throat and drops his gun at Daredevil's feet as plaster in the wall explodes all around them. The man falls to his knees as he's hit in the back by friendly fire. Daredevil reaches his gloved hands around the gun flicks it into the face of the next man, breaking his nose with a sickening sound of cracking and goo of blood.
Matt leaps up into the air, catching his legs around the next, twisting quickly and pulling him downard. The pair go into a roll and before you know it the Devil of Hell's Kitchen is on top off him, giving him a quick knock out punch between his legs. When Daredevil rises, looking like satan himself in the shadows, the last thug runs.
*
Meanwhile Nat has madly run her fingers through the files, flipping quickly from one to the next before tugging a single one from the cabinet. She scans it quickly, committing details to memory as needed. With Matt out of sight, she reaches into her gauntlet and extracts a similar piece of paper. With a faint cluck of her tongue she draws one sheet from the file and puts the dummy in. The one she'd taken is folded and tucked into one of the sections of her gauntlet.
Matt can hear the filing cabinet close — she does so with little thought to the noise — and can sense her coming behind him. "We should go," she states evenly. "As you said, police will come. And none of those fellows are going to damage the building."
*
Daredevil nods, "Lead the way." But then he tilts his head as he steps towards her. "Though I imagine that now you have what you want that this is goodbye."
*
Natasha holds her position as he approaches. Even with assertive directions to lead the way, she doesn't yield, but she also makes no effort to move. "Is it ever really?" she asks evenly. There's a vague curve of her lips.
*
"Well given that it's been years, I sort of thought the last time was," Daredevil says. He nods towards her gauntlet. "Are you going to tell me what was in the filing cabinet? Or do you just like to keep me guessing?"
*
Natasha hums quietly. "To my knowledge you didn't exactly try to find me." She allows a few beats to pass. "And, my resources are… vast." She quirks another smile at the mention of the filing cabinet. "I always like keeping you guessing, Matt. You know that." There's a long pause, and then, with another smile, she offers, "A lady has to leave something to the imagination."
*
"Your life has been about covering your tracks," Daredevil says with a chuckle. "What would have been the point?" As she makes his final comment the chuckle turns into a laugh, "I think we've left very little to each other's imagination, Natasha."
*
"I would've known," Natasha soothes silkily, "that would've been the point." She actually smiles at this thought and then takes a step closer to him, leaving no distance between them unless he moves backwards. It's a challenge in its own way. "If you wanted, we could leave even less." There's no hint of humour in her voice, just the earnest facts of the matter.
*
"You'd have thought less of me, and you know it," Daredevil says. She can see the flash behind the red lenses as he closes his eyes. He's certainly missed her, as she can tell. But then he realizes that this is all probably a trick. Maybe she's in Hell's Kitchen for a reason. Maybe she's actually here to spy on him and this is all just an elaborate trick. Or maybe that's vain. And, like usual, Matthew finds himself conflicted.
*
There's no agreement with the first. But the hesitation is duly noted. "What I thought," Natasha replies before affectionately (but can even that be trusted?) lifting a hand to his chest and then taking a single step backwards. "Regardless," she turns on her heel back towards the room with the files — destined for the window, "an exit would be wise." She leads the way back to the window they'd entered.
*
There's an intake of air as she touches him—a host of memories, but then mercifully she backs away. "You're probably right," Daredevil replies as they head back towards the window to get the heck out of here, even as sirens are sounding in the background. "Are you in town for long?" he asks as he strolls by her and out onto the roof. "Or is this a one night only thing?"
*
"I'm never around anywhere for long," Natasha replies as she follows him to the roof. She runs and leaps to the next building. Following a practiced landing, she notes, "But it's more than a night. Probably only tonight on this side of the tracks." She sucks on the inside of her cheek. She seems as if she might say something else, but instead settles on, "I had wondered if I'd run into you today."
*
Daredevil stays upon the rooftop as she leaps across the alleyway onto the next. His feet are up on the ledge as he watches her get back to her feet and listens to her words. "It's nice to be remembered, at least."
*
"I didn't leave because you were forgotten," Natasha replies dryly. She turns on her heel. Backs, even to the blind, seem cooler than faces. "I'm not a glorified sidekick. Never have been." He can hear the change in her paces. "Besides, you didn't exactly ask me to stay."
*
Daredevil chuckles as she turns her back on him. "Like we agreed. We would both have different viewpoints. We recall things differently," Daredevil unslings his baton and fires the grapnel gun off into the night and in the other direction than the rooftop where she stands. "You weren't ever a sidekick."
*
"You were relieved." There's a blandness to her tone. "It's why you didn't ask me to stay," Nat doesn't back down from that one, and instead moves to the next building, catches the fire escape, and disappears.
*
"That's a lie," Daredevil mutters as she leaves. Now it's his turn to turn his back. With typical fashion he flings himself into the building towards the ground, until, at the last second, he pulls hard on the billy club and up towards the top of the next building over.
*