I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE NETFLIX SHOW DAREDEVIL OR THE CHARACTERS USED IN THIS STORY (EXCEPT FOR ESME JACOBS, SHE'S MINE) AND I'M NOT MAKING ANY SORT OF PROFIT, THIS IS WRITTEN PURELY FOR FUN.
A Detail Escapes Him
PART ONE
Under Your Spell
A lot of work required a lot of attention. Attention to details. A tablet full of information and a mind even fuller. It was James Wesley's attention to every detail that he prided himself on. His mind was constantly abuzz with everything that happened around him. Sometimes he felt like he could almost predict the outcome of almost anything if he just planned it perfectly and prepared for every outcome. But it was his inattention to one detail that was what lead him to this particular moment in time. On this particular day. One this particular sidewalk. Any other day, any other time, he would have walked by. He didn't like to be dragged into the petty squabbles of these little people that ran about this hellish city too wrapped up in their own pathetic lives to see what was beyondthe city.
But James Wesley did stop. For a single brief second he took notice of something beyond his own world. Beyond his Employer. Beyond every single second of his planned to perfection life. His life planned down to the very last second. He looked up just as a man and a woman were in the middle of an altercation that looked to be turning serious when...
"Watch out!" A hand shot out and grabbed his arm yanking him back. He looked up from beyond the arguing couple and the flashing lights and the angry car horns honking. At him. He stepped back up onto the sidewalk. He felt the adrenaline almost instantly. It was a feeling that made him feel sick. It traveled through his arms and legs and rested in his chest. He kept a cool head though, he was very good at that.
"Are you okay?" A voice, a woman's voice, asked. Concern wrapped in annoyance. Annoyance wrapped in concern and inconvenience. Her hand still gripping his wrist. He finally looked up. She was ordinary but within the haze of the adrenaline rush, the almost high that it was, she seemed so much more than that. A perfect stranger who happened to be in the right place at the right time at the precise moment James Wesley was not paying attention to the details. Or he was but not the details of himself.
"Hey, buddy, I asked if you were okay." She asked again. James finally collected himself. Like a fog immediately being lifted his heart slowed down from the thundering clusterfuck it had been a few moments ago. He offered a smile. "I'm quite alright. Thank you." James said and she removed her hand from his person. The electric touch of their skin touching was not something he experienced on a normal day to day basis. He never thought about human touch in an intimate way, not like most people. He shook hands and used comfort completely and totally separately. But he never believed in "the spark". Not until this woman's touched him.
James chalked it all up to the adrenaline. It had to be. She didn't leave his side though. James realized he must be staring.
"Do you have somewhere you need to be?" She asked him, stuffing her hands in her pockets. He noted the outline in her pocket quickly; keys, most likely mace or a small knife in her front pocket. She was tall but not taller than him. Her hair, only going as far down as her earlobes, dirty blonde and her eyes were... two different colors. James had heard of this condition before. Something called heterochromia- or something like that. She was either dressed for a very informal workplace or had the day off. Or didn't work at all. But she was wearing Tommy Hilfiger sneakers so she couldn't be poor.
"I... I was working. My apologies to have been an inconvenience." James said, sounding as calm and collected as ever. He was feeling somewhat back to his normal self.
"Didn't your mother tell you to look both ways before crossing the street?" She asked him, she was smiling at him and he couldn't help himself but... he smiled back. Why? He felt a jump in his, well, everything. Every part of him seemed to be waking up. Waking up from what? What kind of hibernation was his being in until this woman touched him and smiled. Women smiled at him before but he never felt this kind of satisfaction of knowing this one in particular was smiling at him.
It sent a strange sort of gratifying thrill through out him. Again, he felt like he was waking up. Like he had been sleeping in a pool, drowning out everything except what was ahead of him. Dead to the world.
"She did, I guess I didn't listen." James said making friendly conversation. For a brief moment he heard the ticking of his watch and it was as if he was swallowed by a black hole, torn back into the world of details, time tables, schedules, his Employer...
"I'm Esme." The woman said holding out her hand.
It happened in the blink of an eye, to an ordinary observer. To anyone else watching, Esme was a lovely young woman extending her hand to a man she just saved from a potentially fatal car accident. To James Wesley this was a path he could see extending before him. A path he knew would end in wrack and ruin. In pain. He knew if he touched her again there would be no going back. He was no believer in true love or love at first sight. Then why did he feel his hand extending towards her. As if time slowed down and the world suddenly dropped out beneath him. Perhaps he wanted to see if the spark would be there again if he touched her. It was just an experiment. There wouldn't be any spark that would wake him up from whatever dreamless sleep he had been wrapped in like a black fog.
And then just when James Wesley was about to diverge from the path less traveled, someone behind him nudged just a single fraction of an inch and pushed him towards Esme. James Wesley never believed in signs. But he took her hand anyway. And there it was... that instant spark. His eyes traveled across her face, her cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. She wore no makeup that he could see. And her eyes, two different sides of the same coin, looking at him... through him. "James." He said and immediately regretted it.
"Well, I need to be going. Thank you again for-"
"Saving your life? Some might call that heroic." Esme said, that little smirking still on her pink lips. James nodded. "Well, I'm not a fan of heroes. But thank you, Esme. Do you have a last name?" He asked, Esme took a step closer to him.
"A man who doesn't believe in heroes. You were dropped as a child, weren't you?" Esme joked. James tried not to smile but he did anyway. She had a good sense of humor.
"I just don't like getting my hopes up. I really must be going, Miss...?" James waited for a reply. She seemed to hesitate but he saw it on her face the moment she decided to give him her last name. He was elated and distressed at the same time. Like going to a party in hopes the person you have feelings for will be there only to be relieved and disappointed at the same time when they're not.
"Jacobs. Esme Jacobs. Mr...?" But James was smarter than that. Don't give her your last name, he thought. You have hers, that's all you need. As part of the show he checked his watch, easy way to get out of a question he didn't want to give an answer to. He's used it before.
"I'm sorry. But I'm running late. Perhaps you'll hear from me?" He said, leaving it open ended. Let her feel like she had the upper hand. In a manner of speaking, she did. "Are you asking for permission, James?" She asked him, he felt her run her thumb over his hand. It was then that he realized their hands were still clasped. This was getting dangerous. As dangerous as it could get for a man like him, and he'd shot someone before and nearly been shot in the process.
But this was uncharted territory. Not that he was a novice when it came to women he was just a little out of practice. He dealt with women professionally on a daily basis but intimate encounters like a handshake turning into a holding of the hands with a perfect stranger was something else entirely.
"And if I am?" James asked, he in turn running a thumb over her hand. The electric spark returned, it had never really left but had become subdued in their conversation. But now it came roaring back to life, reborn like a phoenix. And what a powerful song it was singing, beckoning him closer towards this woman he had only known for perhaps a few minutes. But the time had seemed to move like a wheel moving in slow motion. All the working parts still together, everything working in tandem but the motion of the ever moving wheel was slowed to a pace James was unfamiliar with. Like trying to run in a dream.
"I'll leave that up to you. You should be going. And you might want to answer that." Esme released his hand, their fingertips begging to be reconnected again. He wondered if she felt it too. He stopped himself from following her, he watched her until she was out of sight; lost in the sea of unfamiliar and unimportant faces. Then he remembered what she said.
"I'll leave that up to you. You should be going. And you might want to answer that." Esme released his hand, their fingertips begging to be reconnected again. He wondered if she felt it too. He stopped himself from following her, he watched her until she was out of sight; lost in the sea of unfamiliar and unimportant faces. Then he remembered what she said.
James answered his phone, embarrassed and perplexed that a strange woman in the street could make him forget one of his most important parts of himself. James' Employer was waiting on the other line and though James knew he wouldn't be entirely angry at him for not answering right away, the fear that something may have happened to him was heard through the phone. James felt guilty for making his Employer wait; he never did that. He always promptly answered the phone after the first ring, even if he was half asleep. It had become a reflex to immediately answer, to sleep light in case he was needed.
And yet, this one woman, this one simple stranger on the street had made him forget himself. You don't forget your name when you meet someone extraordinary, you simply forget to be.
And in those brief moments on that particular day on that particular street at that particular time, James Wesley, for the first time in a long time, had forgotten how to be. And it frightened him. Esme had left her fingerprints on his skin, a reminder of their moments together. It was like a very good itch he couldn't scratch or get to, like it clung to his skin. He flexed his hand, making a fist and then unclenching it. The feel of her wouldn't go away. The thought of her eyes wouldn't leave him when he shut his.
And when James returned to his apartment, very closely and strategically located near to his Employer's, he sat down at his desk and searched and located one Esme Lydia Jacobs.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story so far, please review if you liked it! You can also follow me on Tumblr-
