Izzy had been sitting on the couch for only about ten minutes, flicking through a magazine that she'd brought with her, when she felt the hand on her shoulder. Though she smirked, she didn't turn, and continued to read with the small light she carried with her kit.
"Didn't expect you to break in again, Whiskers." There was a note of amusement in his voice as he moved around the couch, taking a seat next to her. She glanced at him, closing the magazine and setting it on the table.
"What can I say? The other night was the most fun I've had at work in a while." He gave a chuckle, shaking his head.
"What, no day job?" Though blind, his gaze felt piercing, and she shifted a bit before answering.
"Well, yeah, but nothing this exciting. Fairly sure I'd never meet a kung fu fighting blind lawyer at my day job." He arched a brow, and she was quick to change the subject. "So, what am I supposed to call you anyway? You have a name for me."
"True, though I'd prefer your real name." Well, if she had doubted he was a lawyer before, she was sure of it now. She didn't know of anyone else, aside from politicians, who could dodge questions so easily.
"I plead the fifth. Don't need you coming to find me during the day." He was silent for a few moments before offering a hand.
"Matt Murdock. And don't worry, you don't have to share if you don't want to." She shook his hand with a small smile, noting the calluses she could feel against her own skin.
"Nice to meet you, then. Maybe if we manage to keep hanging out, I'll tell you my name." His smile grew a bit as he gave a firm shake of her hand. They chatted, mostly small talk while avoiding their personal lives, and she began to feel like she'd made a new friend. By the time she stepped out the door, she was already considering just giving her real name. If it was a tactic, it was good; the only thing that held her back was her knowledge that he was a lawyer, and could easily trick information out of her if he so chose.
The next few nights, she avoided the apartment, instead focusing on her work. A few good scores, and luckily no more close calls. Izzy couldn't help but occasionally allow her thoughts to drift to Matt, and as she slid through the window of some fat cat's second or third house, she wondered if he'd been waiting for her. Just as her feet hit the floor, she was propelled to the side, hitting the ground with a grunt. She rolled quickly to the side and kipped up to her feet, making a break away from whoever hit her. She could hear the footsteps gaining on her, and she pushed herself to her limit. Another grunt, and this time she found herself pinned by a heavy weight.
"What are you doing here?" There was something oddly familiar about the voice, and it made her pause in her struggle to place it. The man above her had her pinned with an arm across her shoulders, legs on hers. He wore a Zorro like mask, though there were no eyeholes, and all black. The hardness in his jaw and grip softened just a bit as he looked down at her. "Whiskers?"
"Matt?" Her response was whispered, but he seemed to worry someone might here. Pressing a finger to his lips, he moved off of her slowly. Izzy sat up, staring at the man in disbelief. "You're…you're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen?" Anyone who worked or lived in the area had heard of him by now, and she'd always been worried he would come after her.
"Why are you here?" His voice was lower than normal, and she cursed the zing that shot down her spine at the sound. Now was not the time to focus on how well the black shirt he wore hugged his form; no, now was the time to worry about him beating the crap out of her. She scrambled to her feet, moving past him towards the window and being careful not to touch him. When he grabbed her arm, she reacted on instinct, swinging with a fist for his chest. He easily captured her other arm, pulling her close and giving her no room to use her feet. "Whiskers…"
"No." Her voice was low now as her gaze danced around, looking for an exit. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and he tilted his head almost like he could hear it. "Let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone it's you." Her voice was shaking, and she wanted to curse her show of weakness. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen didn't normally show mercy to people who committed crimes in his district. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he released her arms, and she practically leaped out through the window. Anything she thought or felt for Matt clearly wasn't enough.