lawyerbyday | Open Post

[He was grinning as he headed over to the escape, hearing sirens in the distance and knowing they'd be here in a few minutes. A leap up and he was hanging onto the lower rung, then hefting himself up in a smooth pull.]

You just did.

You know that's not what I meant!

[She gives a little huff as she watches him haul himself up the fire escape like it's nothing. He's definitely well trained with how easy he makes it looks. She wobbles on her broken heel.]

Well, thank you!

[She's still sulking when she goes to the entrance of the alley. The police show up not long after. They take her statement and offer to call EMS, but she declines. She just wants to go home and put ice on her swollen wrist.]

[He watches from above, making sure she's okay, deciding to stay on the rooftops until she gets home so he can make sure she doesn't need a second intervention before he has to bolt back home in case she decides to call him. Which he's kind of hoping she does, because he doesn't want her thinking he wouldn't care if she got hurt and scared.]

[It's an awkward walk home. Alexis isn't going to be caught dead walking barefoot in the city, so she has to hobble in one broken shoe. When she gets home, she gets an ice pack for her wrist. It's swollen and bruises an ugly purple color. She really misses Matt. She calls him in case he's worried. She texted him awhile ago that she was heading home with no follow up. When he answers, she sinks into her couch with a sigh.]

Hi, babe.

Alexis?

[If he sounded a bit out of breath, that wasn't his fault. He'd just skidded in the upper stairs of his rooftop entrance and had made it down to his phone as it was ringing. The burner phone vibrated against his hip, but he didn't want to have her pick up on outside sounds. Hitting answer, he pulled his helmet off, panting a little before taking a deep breath to calm himself, get his heartrate back to normal.]

You okay? You sound... low.

[His voice is a comfort. She means to get up and grab a bottle of wine too, but now that she's seated, she doesn't want to move. Her mind keeps wandering to Daredevil and his ass, and it makes her feel a little guilty.]

I'm okay. I was mugged on the way home. I'm fine, but the guy probably isn't. So sucks to be him.

Mugged? Really? Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to come over?

[He hadn't been to her place properly yet, but he knew where it was, had been trailing her for long enough to have a route there and back. Just to keep her safe.

The downside to a vigilante boyfriend was that their love language often looked a lot like stalking.]

I'm fine! That guy-- Daredevil or whatever. He came to save the day.

[She brightens at his offer to come over. She wants nothing more, but she knows it's late. She doesn't want to put him out. All Alexis can think about now is how nice it would be to curl up with him.]

Are you sure you don't mind coming over?

I've heard about him.

[Said the blind man in a Daredevil outfit trying to scramble out of it so he could get dressed in regular clothes.]

Hey, I don't mind. Something like that can shake you up, even someone like you, Lexi. I can be over in about fifteen, twenty?

Yeah. That sounds perfect. I can send you my address.

[There's relief in her tone. She's not completely shaken up, but she could use a good cuddle. She wants him to come fawn over her. He's probably way overdue coming over to her place anyway.]

I have wine but not much food, just a warning.

I can bring over food to cook or pick something already made. Up to you.

[His lawyer suit was just the perfect counterpoint to the kevlar and body armor. Wearing one over the other always helped his mind go to where it needed. Kevlar brought out more aggression, the scent of blood and sweat on it a very specific thing. Linen and cotton brought his mind back to the more delicate things. Using his words. His brain. He could do that. Shoes on, hair sort of combed, he was picking up what he needed to go over to her place, including his cane.]

Wait. You cook?

[She's suddenly incredibly intrigued now. She forgets for a moment that that it's late, and he's probably tired. Alexis is a terrible cook. She doesn't know how. The few times she's attempt has ended in disaster, so she doesn't bother. Baking is different she'd had some success, but that's mostly with supervision. She always does well with someone to guide her.]

Kinda had to. My dad couldn't to save his life. Or mine.

[Of all the things for her to be impressed about, and he could hear the interest in her voice, his cooking amused him.]

What's your favorite thing to make? No, no. What are the best at making?

[And just like that, her aching wrist and Daredevil is forgotten. She's so excited to learn more about this new tidbit she's learned about him. They can talk more about the mugging when he gets there.]

I take it that means you'd prefer I bring something for cooking as opposed to ordering.

[He was dressed and ready to head over, but debating on what it was he could bring.]

I make amazing omelets. But I'll have to show you that in the morning. Or my waffles.

You don't mind? I know it's late-- ugh, you're probably tired! Sorry!

[She really just wants him. They can always order something in. He can cook for her another time.]

You want to make me dinner and breakfast? Matt, you sweetheart!

One of us has to be able to cook, Alexis. I need protein.

[Someone was a big boy. That someone was not Alexis. So he packed eggs and cheese and-]

Do you have anything in your fridge? I can stop at the bodega and pick up what we need.

Can I keep you forever?

[Her tone is fond and indulgent. She gets up from the couch to go peek at what she has in the fridge. She has the bare basics. Eggs. Jam. Bread in her pantry. Wine. Yogurt. You know, the necessities.]

I've got eggs and bread and wine!

Eggs bread and wine, check.

[He put the eggs back, then made a list to grab at the bodega.]

How about pasta for dinner and an omelet for breakfast?

Yes, please! Can I help you cook?

If you'd like to. I'm sure you've got better eyes in your kitchen than I'd have.

[He was already out the door, locking up and heading down to the bodega, a list in mind.]

Favorite pasta type?

All of them! And I can be a very excellent sous chef. I just need direction!

A blind man giving a lady directions sounds like a recipe for disaster.

I trust you. We've got this.

If you say so. Pasta and... chicken? Or seafood?

[He was coming up on the bodega, knowing they had frozen shrimp available along with fresh chicken. He wasn't entirely sure on his lady love's food preferences. Yet.]

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