[center][img]https://static.tumblr.com/8y60per/DXKnmgo4g/dd_logo2.png[/img][/center] [center][sup][sub]III. Dinner Date[/sub][/sup][/center][hr] Matthew took a deep breath as he and Kate stood in the square outside the courthouse, having been ushered out by the police when they had secured the scene. Vincent Donatella, the defendant that Spencer and Murdock had hoped to pressure into spilling some big secrets, had been discovered dead by his mob lawyer in the defense chamber, hanging from the light fixture by his own tie. An obvious suicide, the police said. Obviously suspicious, Murdock thought. The corpse, and the room, had reeked of that cologne-and-leather combination that Matt now knew was the hallmark of the mysterious gentleman he'd glimpsed earlier that day, and that hadn't made a single appearance before or since. The man was obviously suspect. Probably mob-connected. Probably higher than Vincent had been. Matthew had no doubt that the accused had indeed hung himself; but there was no way it had been an independent decision. But regardless of who was responsible, there was only one outcome: a dead man, and a dead lead with him. The trial had been thrown out and a new investigation now begun; Murdock and Spencer went through their questioning and witness statements, as did the mob lawyer. Kate had fled the scene to her preferred bar the second she'd been granted release by the pair of detectives assigned to the scene; Matt had hung around, ostensibly awaiting the arrival of Foggy and Karen, but surreptitiously eavesdropping and gathering information as best he could. The uniform cops knew very little, only basic details and what perimeter to keep around the crime scene as forensics had their way with it; the detectives were either dumb or playing as such, their questions meandering and aimless. Across the square, Matt could hear the two of them muttering between themselves, pondering about where the line for 'bare minimum' rested for such a case - it was clear neither of them thought there was much investigation needed for such an open-and-shut case. The cynic in Matt just dryly assumed they were lazy and poor detectives. The Devil in Matt wondered who had paid them to think as such. He smelt Karen and Foggy approaching before he heard their footsteps and he waited until their voices were within reasonable earshot before he turned and smiled, waving awkwardly. Karen waved back and then blushed, and Foggy chuckled. "Thank you for coming, you two. Foggy, I'm sorry to pull you out of the office again." Foggy scoffed and punched Matt lightly on the arm. "Shut it, Murdock. You know I'm only practicing my quarters game in there most days. Marianne never gives me anything when you've got something big on, you know that." Matt sighed. "And I'm sorry about that, too. Kate dressed me down for involving you today, and she was right to, though not for the reasons she thinks. I shouldn't involve you if it's jepoardising your career." "Don't worry about my career, man. Cum Laude, remember? Marianne might not make me partner in the next five years, but she's not firing me either." Foggy put a hand on Matt's shoulder to reassure him, and Matt nodded. "Plus they pay me whether I'm working a trial or not, so it all works out at about the same amount of drinking anyway. Speaking of...?" "Yes!" Karen interjected, enthusiasm in her voice. "I rang Kate on the way over to ask about post-trial cleanup and she's neck-deep already - probably drinking away her anger - so if [i]both[/i] my bosses are drunk I've got free reign." "Now [i]that[/i] is courtroom thinking right there." Foggy quipped. "I'd be careful, Matt, Karen's a lot prettier than you. Kate might find herself working with a new ADA." They all chuckled, and Matt considered it - but 100 meters behind him and to the left, in an oft-overlooked alcove in the exterior of the courthouse building, he had been listening to the distinctive [i]tick tick[/i] of a Patek Phillipe model 5327G watch, and had caught a whiff of a particular cologne. They had lowered their voices and were talking politely and nonchalantly, but there was no mistaking; this was the mysterious man Matthew had last witnessed leaving the defense chamber, and here he was again, post-crime, privately discussing a seemingly inane matter with the mob lawyer. [sup]"Some terrible rain today, I hear; though not a cloud in sight?"[/sup] [sub][right]"There's been a mild shower uptown, but it's cleared up nicely. Should be sunny days."[/right][/sub] [sup]"How lovely. I do appreciate optimism when I see it. Still, pragmatism has its virtues."[/sup] [sub][right]"You'd be forgiven for doing what you had to the way things are goin' these days."[/right][/sub] [sup]"And one must do what they need to to get by. It can be difficult out there by yourself."[/sup] [sub][right]"What if I found myself needin' some friends?"[/right][/sub] [sup]"I would find yourself a good bar; I find companionship flows like water, where alcohol is involved."[/sup] [sub][right]"Any reccomendations?"[/right][/sub] [sup]"34th and Lexington, downtown. Ask for a house special, with a sour twist. They'll get you what you need."[/sup] [sub][right]"Thanks. Sounds like a good place. I'll have to check it out."[/right][/sub] [sup]"You're very welcome. Have a wonderful night. Best of luck to you."[/sup] They parted, and Matt took a private moment to internalize the address and process the conversation. Innocuous, even with context, but a subtext barely masked below the surface. He was brought back by Foggy giving him a light shove. He'd been out for a few seconds, focused elsewhere. "Sorry, Foggy. I'd love to, but I can't; previous arrangements with El. She's forcing me to take her to dinner." Foggy shook his head, but smiled at the same time. Karen looked away slightly. "No worries, man. I'm sure she really bent your arm on that one. You need a cab?" "No, you two go ahead and enjoy your afternoon, evening, night - wherever you end up. I'm going to walk back to the apartment and freshen up. I could do with clearing my head after today." "Yeah, I bet." Karen said, compassion in her tone. "Out of the blue, that one. What a tragedy. You know he had a daughter?" Foggy took Karen by the arm. "I'm sure we're all aware. We'll see you later Matt; call if you need us to uh, 'rescue' you from your hostage dinner." Matt laughed and waved again as they walked away arm-in-arm towards the local favourite, then turned away and began walking in the opposite direction. He reached the street and walked south, the sounds of the city - footsteps, chatter, engines, birds - painting the world around him, each noise exploding out from its source in maroon eruptions in his mind and drenching its immediate surrounding in lines and edges, carving out the shapes of buildings, cars, and people from the blackness that lay just behind it. The heat on his skin felt like blurred auras of the things around him; moving, throbbing blobs of engine blocks as the pistons exploded petrol over and over, every person a warm presence in a very literal sense, balls of heat brushing past him on all sides. The city oozed and pulsed and Matt felt every inch of it. He shared his lungs with it and it breathed with him, almost for him. He could sense the pulse of Hell's Kitchen; feel it through the soles of his shoes, smell it in the air, hear it surrounding him. A city's heartbeat, thumping and thudding and throbbing through every fibre of Matt's being - and in his core, he could feel the venom poisoning his city's heart, the corruption coursing through the streets. The courthouse was not exempt, and Matthew had been a fool to believe it could be. No more. Not again. He couldn't allow the men who hid in shadows to harm the innocent any longer. The Devil would bring their punishment. Matthew headed home. - He had completed a cursory sweep of his apartment when he'd returned home, and found it empty, Elektra having left shortly after Matthew, and clearly still out. Certain he'd been alone, he had opened a hidden compartment beneath his bedroom floor, wherein he had stashed the Devil; and then he was out into the early evening, the sun setting on his back as he lept across rooftops and dropped down walls, testing the retractable wire in his batons as he went. He made it eight blocks before the cellphone on his belt buzzed, and he paused, ducking low and pushing himself up against the rooftop water tank as he undid the clasps of his helmet and removed it with one hand and fetched the phone from its pouch with the other. He pressed a button on the side of the device, and a quiet, robotic monotone spoke the single word, 'ELEKTRA'. Matt swore underneath his breath. "Hi, honey." He said, wincing. He hoped she couldn't hear it in his voice, but he was bad at lying to her. "Am I to assume I am dining [i]alone[/i], tonight?" [i]Ah.[/i] "Oh god, El, I com-" "-pletely forgot? This is far from the first time. The wine is quite good here, you know." [i]Shit.[/i] "Today's trial, El, it didn't go exactly to-" "Plan? No, I hear it didn't. You're mourning a tragic loss?" [i]Oh, god save him.[/i] "I'm sorry babe, Kate has got me-" "Kate also thinks the wine here is rather agreeable." There was a pause that neither of them felt comfortable filling. Matt could hear Kate's wry, wine-fuelled laugh in the background of the call, and more importantly he could [i]not[/i] hear Elektra as she quietly seethed. "I'm...busy. I've got to get this done. I'm sorry, El." There was a pause. "That's it?" She asked, with more than a hint of defeat about her tone. Matt's disappointments had long since passed incredulity. "It's important." "More important than this?" Another pause. Matt heard Elektra sigh. "Don't answer that." She said, and then hung up. Matt swore and stood, punching the water tank hard, leaving his hand against the wall to feel the ripples of the resevoir inside bouncing off themselves before calming back to still water. He turned his helmet over and over in his hands, feeling the curvature, pushing his thumbs down on the tips of the horns. This was important. The Devil was important. What he could [i]accomplish[/i], was important. [i]More important than Matthew Murdock's happiness?[/i] He asked himself. [i]This [b]is[/b] Matthew Murdock's happiness.[/i] The horns answered back. He put his helmet back on and took off running. The sun set on the Devil, and he leapt into the night.