Work Text:
*
“How did the job interview go, hun?” Mrs. Lee asked. Iris Lee was a tiny elderly woman who lived on Lily’s floor. Most evenings and some afternoons, she could be found behind a cash register at the Asian market down the block from their apartment building. The two of them would sometimes chit-chat if Lily happened to stop in the store for a rare strawberry bubble tea if she really wanted to treat herself, or more typically, a salmon and avocado sushi roll for a light, simple dinner. But more often than not, if the two bumped into each other, it was here in front of their building’s aging bank of slender metal mailboxes.
Lily pushed back the bulky headphones from her head, instantly regretting the loss of their comforting weight over her head. (She’d only now realized that her playlist must have ended at some point during her walk over here because the only sounds she could still hear were the ambient noises of the city around her.) Before stuffing her handmade beanie into a jacket pocket, she pulled out her ponytail, fished out her keys, and tucked the small waxed white paper bag she was carrying under an arm. The bag contained an enormous Italian sub, one the owner of Nelson’s Meats insisted she takes home--on the house--and the smell of it absolutely filled the tiny foyer of the cramped New York City walk-up where Lily lived. She’d never eaten at Nelson’s before (which was a severe oversight on her part; she’d always heard the place was locally famous for a reason), and she could not wait to tear into the thing once she got settled upstairs. And not only because she appreciated free food.
As she rifled through her own mail, Lily glanced at Mrs. Lee and smiled brightly. “I rocked that interview, Mrs. Lee. I’m a shoo-in for sure, I just know it.”
“So glad to hear it, hun,” Mrs. Lee said. “I’ve never heard of a law office inside a butcher shop before, but if I ever need legal counsel or fresh-cut meats, I’ll be sure to stop in.” She said that last part with a lopsided smile and a sly wink before waving a friendly goodbye as she headed out to cover her shift.
*
Sitting at the kitchen table, Lily sighed contentedly as she looked down at the remains of her meal. There was just entirely too much sandwich to eat in one sitting, and though she hated to admit it, she really needed to stop before she burst at the seams. So she wrapped whatever was left of her sub in the white butcher paper it had come in, placed it in the refrigerator, next to an almost-empty container of milk and a sad-looking slice of pizza she should have tossed out already-- ostensibly for tomorrow’s lunch--and hoped she wouldn’t forget about it. Lily tended to be forgetful, but still. It would be a shame if the thing ended up in the garbage with its sibling, the sad, desiccated pizza slice.
Plus, the store owner, Theo Nelson, would probably never forgive her if he ever found out. Well, the only way he would ever find out was if she were fortunate enough to receive a call-back from the law firm of Nelson & Murdock. (Fingers and toes, and everything crossed!) Then she could order however many sandwiches she wanted. Maybe pick one up for Mrs. Lee every once in a while, too. (Lily fished out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Opened the notes app, and under the section she’d labeled "DON’T FORGET!", typed: “Ask Mrs. Lee what kinds of sandwiches she likes!” because Lily tended to be absent-minded and she’d learned a long time ago the importance of writing that shit down the second the thought occurs. Otherwise, whatever thoughts she’d had could and would disappear into the ether forever, never to be seen or heard from again.
While the interview itself turned out fine, there was an initial, funny-in-retrospect moment of confusion. It was very obvious that Mr. Nelson had not been told ahead of time of her appointment with the lawyers, because when Lily mentioned that her reason for being there was for a job interview, he immediately vanished into a back room or storage area or something before brandishing a paper application for her to fill out. He handed her a white pen with the store logo proudly emblazoned across it in bright red letters, and told her if she really wanted, she could even start that afternoon; filling out the application was only a formality: Mr. Nelson was beyond desperate for another pair of hands behind the counter now that his snowbird parents had retired. Not to mention all the extra foot traffic the lawyers brought into the store each day. (He wasn’t complaining, he assured her. He wasn’t. He was just. A little swamped. That was all. Though maybe if his brother could climb down off his high horse with that big fancy law degree of his and somehow find it within himself to lend a hand down here every once in a while, the way mom and dad wanted…)
All of that was way over her pay grade, so Lily cleared her throat and said, “Actually, I’m here to see the lawyers.”
Mr. Nelson then pointed at her in understanding. “Right,” he exclaimed. “Foggy might have mentioned something about hiring an intern, but nobody’s exactly been bangin’ down their door.” He gave her an appraising look. “You would be the first.”
Which came as a massive surprise to Lily. She tried not to outwardly express her shock, because while the law firm of Nelson and Murdock might not have soared with the Big Boys in the legal world, they were an incredibly impressive pair of guys who tirelessly worked for the average, everyday folks who lived and worked in the neighborhood. Folks like Lily, who followed the firm’s exploits religiously during her time in law school, diligently collected every newspaper clipping she could get her hands on about the hometown kids who took on a powerful crime boss with half the city’s police force stuffed comfortably in his back pocket, and even a chunk of the friggen FBI, and won. Against all odds, they won. Score one for the little guy. So yeah. Lily didn’t have any great ambitions for driving a Bentley to her corner office in some steel and glass monstrosity of a building. She just wanted to help people. And if the ambitious land-shark types found that sort of thing beneath them, well, then it was their loss. And her gain.
Mr. Nelson, (“call me Theo”) gestured to one of the empty tables in the large dining area and made a show of picking up the phone. “I’ll tell ‘em you’re here,” he said, and Lily nodded.
Once he was finished mumbling into the phone, Theo brought a steaming cup of fresh coffee to her table, which she was grateful for. She sipped at it as she watched Theo duck behind the counter to finish restocking the meat case.
She wasn’t nervous. She told herself she wasn’t, and therefore it was the truth. She was not nervous. Nor did she hero-worship this dinky little law firm. (That honor would go toward another figure who loomed large over the neighborhood, helping people in his own, slightly less legal, way.)
But she did worry at the thin metal rings she wore on her fingers and thumb. She also absently fiddled with the pen as a distraction while she waited, twirling it with her fingers and discretely making it levitate as she did.
Eventually, the pair of lawyers drifted out of their storage room-slash-office. And while Lily might have read every article and watched every interview she could get her hands on, she knew it wouldn’t be right to sit here and pretend she actually knew them. It sure was an odd and surreal experience to know their names and faces, know which cases they’ve won and which cases they’ve lost, and act as if she didn’t.
“Here, Matt,” Franklin Nelson (“Call me Foggy,” and do all the Nelsons prefer to go by nicknames?) muttered as he guided Mr. Murdock to Lily’s table. It was hard not to notice the long, white cane he used to navigate. Mr. Murdock folded the cane with swift, practiced dexterity, and Mr. Nelson pulled out their respective chairs. The two of them immediately sat down in perfect unison. That they were so in sync with each other spoke to just how long they had worked together. The two of them weren’t just friends and colleagues; despite their currently less-than-prestigious digs, they were a long-running, well-oiled, and extremely professional machine. If given the opportunity, she knew she could learn a real lot from the pair of them.
Franklin Nelson (“call me Foggy”) fished out a yellow notepad from his briefcase and a white pen with red lettering printed on it to match the one Theo had given her earlier.
Mr. Murdock (“call me Matt”) neatly folded his hands and kept them in front of himself on the table. There was a yellowing bruise peeking out from underneath his red-tinted shades, and Lily tried not to stare. She, of all people, knew better than to make assumptions about people, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Murdock was okay.
Foggy must have noticed her noticing because he visibly blanched. “So,” he said, after clearing his throat, obviously trying to cover his discomfort, Making an obvious effort to get the interview back on track, he quickly glanced at the legal pad in front of him, and very pointedly said, “Ms. Matthieu.” He then gave his partner a sidelong glance and mumbled, “That sure won’t get confusing,” but Matt, completely stone-faced, just waved him away like a swarm of buzzing gnats.
“Amelia,” Matt began, and now it was Lily’s turn to correct them. She smiled brightly. “Call me Lily.”
For whatever reason, this was the thing that managed to break Matt Murdock’s stony exterior. The man actually cracked a small smile. “Lily,” he corrected himself. “Tell us why you want to intern at Nelson and Murdock.”
The rest of the interview went as smoothly as glass. Both lawyers were insistent that due to the fierce competition for internships in New York, (which made Lily sneak a glance at Theo still behind the meat counter), they couldn’t guarantee her a spot in their firm, especially due to the fact that theirs was a paid internship. (Nelson and Murdock firmly believed that unpaid internships unfairly disadvantaged young lawyers who maybe didn’t come from money. Which she couldn’t complain about. She liked to eat.) They also explained that they had a PI and occasional freelance journalist who worked from the space as well, one Karen Page, whose many articles from her time writing for the Bulletin was featured prominently in Lily’s ongoing scrapbook on the legal goings-on in Hell’s Kitchen. Mr. Nelson explained that Ms. Page came and went as she pleased, like a stray cat, which seemed to suit everyone’s needs. They all seemed like a cool group of folks to work for.
Professional folks to work for. This wasn’t high school, c’mon now.
They all shook hands, like the professionals they all were, and that was when Theo flagged her down to know what kind of sandwich she’d like.
“I don’t want to eat you out of house and home,” she said, and Theo gave her a knowing grin.
“Listen. My brother eats like he owns the place. ‘Cause he kinda does. It’s a family business, right? And well. Matt’s practically family too, so I figure, anybody who works here should get the same treatment. ‘S’only fair.”
“Well, I don’t have the job yet,” she said, but she was grateful for Theo’s confidence.
Now that she’d finished eating, she contemplated how she would spend the rest of her evening. She cleaned up her mess and moved from the kitchen table to her favorite spot on the couch, glancing longingly into her bedroom and the storage bin she kept tucked under her bed as she passed by. (Said storage container housed her… outfit: a compression suit that helped with constricting her loose joints, a long coat that fluttered like a cape and looked totally badass, a black domino mask, and thin metal rings that adorned her entire body: rings for her fingers and wider rings for her arms, legs, and torso, which helped channel her energy and made levitation and other similar feats of telekinesis possible.)
Getting out of the house and getting some exercise, would, of course, do her some good, but after today’s adventure, which left her feeling just a little bit POTS-y, (read: fatigued), she decided she’d let that be an excuse enough to make tonight a night-in kind of night.
Decision made, she pulled up her headphones, not worrying too much about which playlist ran, and summoned her crafting bag. (Hey. What was the point of having cool superpowers if you never used them to do stupid, lazy shit like making your stuff come to you for a change?)
She zipped open the bag and contemplated the bright yellow yarn poking out of it. It was an impulse buy, she could admit that--the color’s boldness made her happy and might have even made her giggle a little bit--and she justified the purchase by telling herself that she would make one of those sunflower afghans that were so trendy right now. As she chose her favorite crochet hook from its case and absently floated it in the air, she decided laziness was the night’s winner. Instead of an ambitious project such as an afghan, she’d pull out an old standby: a basic, no-frills beanie. Even if Eye-Scorching Lemon was kind of tacky and clashed violently with her already blonde hair. It didn’t matter. What mattered was keeping her hands busy and her mind clear, and so that’s what she did.
*
The job interview had been on a Thursday, and to Lily’s immense surprise, a phone call with the caller ID of Nelson and Murdock came in at 4:45 PM, Friday. Hers had been the last order of business for the week, it would seem.
“This is Foggy Nelson of Nelson and Murdock,” Foggy Nelson said as if she didn’t already know. “We’d love to hire you. If you’re still interested, of course.”
She tried not to scream right there over the phone.
If she was still --
If.
She tried to play it cool. “Omigod! Yes! Thank you so much! I’d be super happy to!”
Ugh. So much for playing it cool.
“Great!” Foggy Nelson said. He sounded like a total pro, completely unbothered by her less-than-mature outburst of enthusiasm. “See you Monday,” he said. “8 a.m.”
She had the job! Huzzah!
She felt on top of the world. It would be fantastic to pay some of that good feeling forward.
She went to her bedroom and dragged the wide, plastic storage container out from under her bed. Once she pried it open, her super secret superhero suit stared back at her. “Time to dust you off, friend.”
*
They didn’t call New York City “the city that never sleeps” for nothing. Tonight, the city was just as lively and bustling with activity as she’d ever seen it.
Lily, or Stripe, when she was out superheroing, loved nothing more than to hover over rooftops and fire escapes, keeping watch over the neighborhood. Her cape fluttered in the wind, which she still found hilarious. It was just so dramatic! It was great!
Tonight had been a productive one. She convinced a kid to stop scamming booze off of folks leaving the nearby liquor store, stopped a would-be mugging, which made Lily feel like a total badass, and oh. Not to brag, but she met Daredevil. Like, the actual real-life red-clad devil-dude.
Okay, so she didn’t actually meet him. More like hid underneath a water tower lest she make a fool of herself by totally fangirling all over the place.
He just. Landed on the same roof she was hanging out on. She really, really tried not to squeal, or make any weird noises, but he must have heard her anyway? Because he paused, very tellingly, and tilted his head the way she’d seen curious puppies do.
She was very, very aware of her breathing and did everything she could to slow it down. Fortunately, something else must have caught his attention, because the next thing she knew, he was off like a shot, jumping and tumbling and running across rooftops like they were his own personal playground. Which she supposed they were, in a manner of speaking.
She’d never exhaled so forcefully in her life.
There was a teeny-tiny part of her that was disappointed he didn’t see her, or approach her in any way, even as she felt immense relief she hadn’t been caught. Not that she didn’t want to meet him, just. It would have been. Awkward. That was all.
*
After Foggy got all the paperwork and minutia of beginning employment squared away for her, (“Matt meant to be here to welcome you too, officially, but he’s… running a little behind,” Foggy explained with a pained yet vaguely apologetic expression. “But he’ll be in! Eventually. Don’t you worry.”) he gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, announced, “Have fun!” and handed her a large stack of paperwork.
She set up camp at the same dining area table at which her job interview had been held. Theo promised her she was welcome to work there, provided it wasn’t too busy. But he never actually kicked her out or asked her to relocate back to the actual “law office.”
She was also allowed to use her headphones, again, so long as they didn’t interfere with the meat shop or its customers.
And as the lawyers predicted, Karen Page was in and out of the store seemingly without rhyme or reason. At least Lily could tell her in person, once they were formally introduced, how much her articles had meant to her. To Lily’s immense relief, Karen was very gracious about it, so Lily guessed she must not have come across as too weird about it. She hoped.
Nearly half an hour after she’d been settled, Matt pushed open the door with his foot. He was holding a paper tray that carried four coffee cups and doing an admirable job of holding open the door and balancing the tray in one hand and his folded-up cane in the other.
Theo emerged from the back room then, brought out by the jingle-jangle of the bell dangling from the door handle. “Matt!” Theo greeted. He gestured (needlessly) toward Lily and declared, “Your new hire!”
He turned toward Lily. His mouth hung open for a moment too long, then said, “Huh, no shit,” like he had just solved some puzzle. After swallowing a small, crooked smile, he added, “Ah, how’re we settling in,” and when she answered, “Well enough,” he used that moment to approach her table/work area. “I don’t know what kind of coffee you like, so I took a guess. Hope you don’t mind.”
Well, she wasn’t about to turn down a free coffee, so she graciously accepted. It was hazelnut with light cream and sugar. It was good.
“Murdock!” Foggy bellowed as he came into the dining area. “If you think I’ll overlook your tardiness with a bribe,” he paused dramatically, “then you would be one hundred percent correct! But just this once.” Foggy took that opportunity to wink playfully at Lily. It was his way of saying, “We’re like this. This is what we do.” So she allowed herself to laugh a little at the pair’s antics.
See? She knew they’d be fun to work for.
*
So, as it turns out, the law firm of Nelson and Murdock doesn’t actually subsist on cold cuts alone. As delicious (and free) as they are.
They tended to rotate take-out orders, and wouldn’t it be just her luck? It was the newbie who got to pick up the tab as if it were some kind of weird hazing ritual.
Fortunately, as the tradition went, the type of takeout was strictly the buyer’s choice.
So Lily jotted down Matt, Foggy, and Karen’s sushi order and called her favorite Asian market - the one near her apartment building.
Mrs. Lee answered the phone and took down the order and when Lily arrived to pick up the sushi, Mrs. Lee greeted her warmly. The store was quiet, which came as a small surprise to Lily. It was lunchtime, and she expected the place to be packed. It wasn’t, though. Lily was the only person in the store save for the owner’s adult son Gary, who had ambitions of running the store himself in a few short years once his parents retired to Florida or Arizona or wherever.
*
When Mrs. Lee herself walked through the front door of Nelson’s Meats later that afternoon, Lily couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she’d thought it would be fun to reciprocate lunch orders, seeing as Lily stopped by her store earlier in the day.
But Mrs. Lee worried at her hands, and Lily knew immediately that this wasn’t a social visit or an excuse to drop by just to see how her favorite neighbor was settling into her new job.
Somehow, Lily knew this was also not the appropriate time to ask Mrs. Lee what kind of sandwich she liked.
Lily packed up her work, shoved everything into her tote bag, and ushered Mrs. Lily toward the back, where the law firm proper existed.
“This is just temporary,” Lily said by way of apology for the less-than-professional setup they had going. “At least that’s what my bosses keep saying.” Instead of humoring her for that sorry attempt at a joke, Mrs. Lee just nodded blankly. There was none of that pleasant cheerfulness Lily was so used to seeing from her friend.
Lily then went on to introduce her neighbor to her bosses and to the office’s resident PI, Karen Page. The way the lawyers turned on a friggen dime from best friends who had been goofing off after a nice leisurely lunch to serious, professional lawyers was nothing short of impressive. The pair of them really were that in sync.
They sat down and made Mrs. Lee feel as comfortable as possible. “What brings you by Nelson and Murdock,” Foggy said, and Mrs. explained her predicament: at the end of each shift, one of her responsibilities as a cashier was to reconcile the cash drawer with the day’s receipts, write down the cash amount on a paper bag, make change for the drawer, enclose the cash and the paper receipts into the bag, then deposit said bag in a safe only the store owners had access to.
The problem was that her deposits were constantly coming up short; the cash amount inside the paper bags she was required to drop into the safe each night was not matching up with the amounts written down. In short, she was either bad at basic math, or she was stealing. To make matters worse, apparently, Gary had been finding the back door unlocked. Mrs. Lee was sure she checked and double-checked before going home for the night, but she was older and tended toward forgetfulness sometimes. Lily vehemently disagreed with this assessment; Lily knew from forgetfulness. Mrs. Lee, on the other hand, was as sharp as a tack. Either way, she would be out of a job by the end of the week if it happened again.
Lily greatly appreciated how seriously her bosses were taking the matter. This wasn’t a case of taking down the mafia or winning multi-million dollar suits against corrupt pharmaceutical companies; this was simply an ordinary case of an ordinary woman struggling to keep her job and a roof over her head.
The look on Matt’s face was a serious one. He leaned forward and said, “We’ll be happy to take on your case should it come to that, but for now, I’d like you to go back to work, and act like everything’s normal. Take note of anything you see out of the ordinary and get back to us. ”
*
That night, she’d decided she’d get into her outfit and poke around near the Asian market to see if anything turned up. Namely, she wanted to check out the unlocked backdoor situation to see if Mrs. Lee really was so forgetful to leave the door unlocked at night, giving the opportunity for a thief to sneak in, or if something else was going on.
See, how Lily figured it was, even if the door was left unlocked at night, if someone was sneaking in and stealing from the store, well, they would still need to know beforehand that one, the door was left open, and two, had the know-how to find and open the safe.
Which meant Lily would have to scope the place out. After hours. (As one does.)
*
With the help of a little ol’ telekinesis, Lily hovered over a fire escape that overlooked the back of the Asian market.
There really wasn’t anything to do except hang back and observe. Mrs. Lee was closing shop, including checking and double-checking that the back door was locked. Lily swooped down and pulled on the door handle herself. Sure enough, the door stayed latched shut.
There was a commotion coming from inside the store - shouting, it sounded like, and a loud crash, too. She could work her magic--wiggle her fingers and zap the lock open--but she could foresee that creating more problems than it was worth.
So, instead, she ran around to the front door, hoping that it too hadn’t yet been locked up.
It hadn’t. Not only had it not been locked, but it was also wide open now, with the glass pane shattered and broken.
She picked her way through, surprised to find the store totally dark. There was a low, threatening voice, though she was unable to make out whatever was being said. A man’s voice. Crying. Begging. Pleading.
Lily found Mrs. Lee crouching behind the cash register. Hiding.
The poor woman was shaking, and when Lily peeked her head under the check-out stand, Mrs. Lee covered her mouth, trying not to scream.
“Mrs. Lee,” Lily whispered, and she was very aware of how weird she must look right now: big flowing coat, domino mask, compression suit covered in metal rings. She desperately needed to diffuse the situation and to do that, she needed to help calm her friend. So she tore off her mask and raised her hands, placating.
Mrs. Lee’s small inhale of shock was all she had time for. “I’ll keep you safe,” she promised, and Mrs. Lee nodded.
"What happened?"
“There’s a - man. In a mask. He just came in here and started attacking Gary! I didn't know what to do, so I ducked under here.” Right on cue, Lily heard someone growl out something low and indistinct, followed by a wet cry of, “No, no, no. Please!” It was Gary, the store owners' son.
“Okay,” she said to her friend. “Listen. Stay low if you can, but I want you to head for the door. Slowly. Okay? Then I want you to go straight home and lock your door. Don’t run. Just walk like normal. I’ll stay here until you’re outside. Got it?”
Mrs. Lee nodded and kept low to the floor as she made her way out of the store. Once Lily was no longer able to see her, she bolted toward the back, where the two men were, she supposed, fighting. Like it was the friggen movies or something.
Sure enough, there was Daredevil, grabbing Gary by the collar and shoving him into a wall. She knew she should react, somehow, but watching this all unfold up close like this? She idolized this guy, and here he was pummeling the shit out of someone she knew.
She had the sickening realization that she would need to re-examine all her priorities. All of them.
“Gary here was about to tell me why he’s been stealing from his own store. Weren’t you, Gary?”
“What? No --” she started to say, but then Daredevil’s arm pulled back, readying another punch.
So she separated them. Stretched her arms out and sent them both in the air.
Gary screamed. But Daredevil just looked pissed off. He fought and thrashed against the invisible chains restraining him. “Goddamn it! I had him.”
It was a strain to keep them both there, but she’d do it.
“Look on the floor!” Daredevil barked. “Look!”
The store was totally dark, the only lights were from the exit sign over the back door and the ambient street light from outside.
But Lily crouched down in the spot in which Gary had been standing, and sure enough, there was a paper bag with a string of numbers on it written in Mrs. Lee’s tight, neat scrawl.
She stood and raised her arms toward the two men currently levitating three feet in the air. She lowered them, and they both landed gracelessly in a heap.
Daredevil was on her in a snap. “Get the hell out of here. Take your friend home.”
“Wait,” she said. She looked at Gary, who was brushing off his khakis. “You?”
Inexplicably, Gary turned toward Daredevil as if silently pleading for help.
“I had to,” he sobbed. “I owe. Money.”
“To who,” Daredevil barked.
“The - the mob. A gang. I don’t know. They didn’t tell me who they were. But they threatened my parents! My employees! Told me if I didn’t pay up, they’d --”
“Shit,” Daredevil said. “It’s a protection racket. I promise I'll keep you safe. Your family. Your employees.” He unzipped a pocket somewhere on his suit and fished out what looked like a business card. “Go here. Tomorrow. They’ll help you.”
Gary nodded. “Go home, Gary,” Daredevil said. And Gary did. Or at least, he beat a hasty retreat out the back. Lily wondered if he remembered to lock the door on his way out.
He turned to Lily then. “Well. Looks like we’re taking down the mob.”
“We?”
He pressed his lips together in a hard line. “I have a feeling this type of situation will keep happening, considering the circumstances. So we may as well work together. What do you say?”
“Uh,” she said, articulate as ever. Then Daredevil did something completely unexpected. He raised his hands to his head and lifted up his helmet. Her boss, Matthew Murdock, smiled back at her.
“Huh,” Lily said. “No shit.”
*
As usual, Lily was elbow deep in paperwork, her headphones resting comfortably on her head. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail underneath a red, handmade beanie.
Speaking of which.
When she saw Matt unfold his cane and approach her table-slash-work area, Lily reached into her bag and pulled out a soft beanie, one that she busted out last night after the whole - ordeal. Working with her hands was relaxing. She just hoped the gift would be appreciated.
"This is for you,” she said once he sat down. Then she reached over and placed the thing over his head. He wore a slightly confused expression as she did this, but didn’t otherwise comment. He just let her place the hat on his head and to her immense surprise, he kept it there.
She wondered if it would be cruel to neglect to mention that the thing was bright yellow.
He kept the beanie on his head right up until Foggy emerged from the back room-slash-lawyers’ office.
After pulling the thing off, Matt’s hair stuck out everywhere. It looked a lot like how it did last night, immediately after he removed his helmet.
Which she still kind of wasn’t over. She knew Daredevil! She worked for him, even! And there was room to learn the ins and outs of superheroing. She’d pinch herself, but you know. Overly stretchy skin weirded the fuck out of people. What can you do.
After debriefing Foggy on the night’s events, especially pertaining to their newest client, Mr. Gary Park, Foggy leveled an extremely unimpressed expression in Lily’s direction.
Then he turned to Matt, his long-time friend and partner, and said, “What, do you collect them or something?”
Foggy sighed. He was completely and utterly resigned. “Well,” he said to Lily, “ welcome to the circus.”
-the end-
*