Tuesday morning finds Wade in the Law Offices of Nelson and Murdock. The office is located in a small niche of Hell's Kitchen where rent hasn't gone up substantially in recent years. It's a small office, and Wade assumes that saying "Offices" on the glass door indicates that they strive to have more than one room to operate out of someday. Still, Matt Murdock is a damn good lawyer and before that he was a damn good Marine. At least until he was blinded by a chemical bomb. Everyone used to say that Murdock had the devil in him when they went into a firefight, and even blind, Wade would never want to get in a fight with him. Dude's wirey and alert in ways that seem almost supernatural.

Matt reads over the divorce papers, his fingers dancing across the Braille copy Shiklah's attorney had included in the packet, while Foggy goes over the printed version. Matt and Foggy are technically both Wade's lawyers, but they don't charge him double for retaining their services. Wade always brings Foggy the good bourbon, and that seems to have won some points along the way-in addition to being one of Matt's bootcamp buddies. They both have fond memories of sprinting up Mount Motherfucker during their time at Camp Pendleton, and by "fond memories" they mean "nightmares".

The basic settlement boils down to Shiklah retaining the majority of assets, which Wade is fine with. He could never afford the rent on the Manhattan apartment, let alone the taxes on the condos that Shiklah purchased while he was away on his last tour in Iraq. Shiklah was the money in the relationship, and Wade didn't want anything from her. The only thing he asked for was his DVD collection, his car, and her to leave him the hell alone. The fact that it has taken so long for her to agree to those terms is all the evidence Wade needs to prove that she is an evil, vindictive succubus.

"I see no reason you should not agree to these terms, Wade. Especially since she's agreed to give you the full sum of the joint stock dividends," Matt says after putting aside the papers in a neat pile. Everything about his desk is neat and orderly. Always in place. He adds, "If you sign the papers today, I can have these submitted to the court this afternoon."

"Thank fucking Odin," Wade says as he pulls out one of his ergonomic ink pens. "Let's get this party started."

Wade is pretty sure that he's never signed his name this many times in his life, and he can't help but make a joke about being happy he's had plenty of writing practice. Next thing he knows, Foggy and Matt are discussing different career paths with him and sharing stories of their time together in law school. Matt tells Wade to call when he finally figures out what he wants to major in, and he'll help him find a good school for that course of study. He even offers to proof read Wade's scholarship applications, and Wade is again reminded how awesome his friends really are.

The stock dividends is in reference to some stocks that were purchased in both their names as a wedding present from some Romanian ex of hers, and the dividends came to just over $250,000. Foggy found those assets when he was doing the due diligence of examining the fine print on the pre-nup, and Shiklah had that particular account hidden pretty well. Wade didn't even remember receiving them, and Matt figured they were never brought to his attention.

Wade feels lucky to have a lawyer like Matt in his corner, even if the guy typically deals with criminal law instead of civil. He made an exception for Wade in that regard, and has offered a great deal of moral support. Of all of the people that Wade knows, Matt Murdock is the only one who has also had the joyous experience of marrying and divorcing an heiress, and that has led to a great deal of commiseration.

As Wade is getting ready to leave, Matt stops him and says, "I might need to cash in a favor with you next weekend."

Wade studies Matt's posture and asks, "Why?"

"One of our clients is having difficulties with an ex." Matt's look says that "difficulties" could easily be construed as "threats".

Wade nods. "You need me to swing by and give him a lesson in manners?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could escort her to a function," Matt says with a smirk. "You know, considering you are a free man now. She is worried that her ex will show up and cause problems, and I would prefer that someone was there who is not connected with the office who can handle difficult people."

Wade nods, then remembers to confirm outloud. "Yeah. Shouldn't be a problem. What kind of function is this? Do I need to break out my monkey suit?"

"Suit and tie will be sufficient," Matt says flatly, though he fights a smile. "The event is an art gallery opening, so be prepared to deal with insufferable Manhattan elites and bite your tongue a lot."

"Because I'm so good at both of those things," Wade says with a little annoyance. Then he shrugs. "Whatever. I can handle it. I did enough of that shit with Shiklah to know the protocols. I'm a pro at being upper-crust arm candy."

"Which is pretty much why we thought of you," Foggy says.

Wade chuckles. "So what's my date's name, or is that covered under attorney-client privilege?"

"Gwen Stacy," Matt answers. "Daughter of former Chief of Police George Stacy, whom I am sure you remember."

Wade nods. "I met him at Cap's retirement party. Good guy."

"Again, why we thought of you," Foggy says, grinning. "We'll send her the details and send you the details, and if anything happens, you can give us the details."

"Sounds good," Wade says, and adds, jabbing a finger into Matt's shoulder, "You better make it clear that I am a classy gentleman, and no matter my reputation, I do not put out on the first date."

"Please leave my office, Wade," Matt says, gesturing with his cane.

Wade leaves the office feeling like he just lost a 120 pounds, and can't help singing along with the radio as he pushes through the city traffic. Technically the divorce won't be final for another month, but everyone has signed and it is as good as done. Not to mention the found funds, which honestly makes Wade's balls tingle a little. And since Wade finished all his homework the night before, the evening is free for whatever shenanigans a middle-aged man can get up to.

Which really isn't that much at all. Wade isn't a partier and Weasel has other obligations in the evening with his lame bowling team of lameness. He keeps trying to get Wade to join him, but Wade isn't a fan of that many people, so he opts to stay home with a couple Redbox movies and a six pack, of which he watches one movie and drinks two bottles before there is a knock on his door.

A peek through the peep-hole reveals only a chin, and Wade opens the door with a disgruntled, "You ever think about calling ahead of time, Pricilla? I might have had a hot date in here."

Nate doesn't even respond to that statement, and asks, "Have you been crying?"

"There were ninjas cutting onions while I was watching CHAPPiE," Wade grumbles as he backs up for Nate to duck through the door (even though he didn't have to; Nate's not that goddamn tall).

Nate sits in the big recliner, making it look like the small recliner, and says, "I hear your papers have been filed."

"Do you have some kind of chip in your head that lets you know everything about everything?" Wade asks as he resumes his spot on the couch. "Seriously, how the hell do you do that? Am I being followed?"

Nate gives him one of his patented long-suffering looks, and again ignores Wade's question. "I wanted to see how you are faring with everything. I know that starting your classes at the same time as finalizing the divorce can be pretty stressful, and I thought it would be good to check in with you."

Wade gives him the puppy eyes, and says, "Awwww, you big lug. I didn't think you cared. I'm sure this has nothing at all to do with Hope being at her mom's and boredom."

Nate sighs and leans back in the recliner. The poor chair groans under the weight. Nate is a big guy. Broad shouldered and tall, with the body of an Ironman competitor. He makes Wade feel tiny, which is a challenge considering he's no shrimp himself. He says, "I did come over here for another reason."

"I knew you were buttering me up," Wade grumbles. "I swear to god, if this involves me dressing up as a tree again for one of your kid's ballet recitals, you're going to pay me."

"You don't have to dress as a tree," Nate says with his version of a smile which is basically a twitch at the right corner of his mouth. Really, if the guy ever did smile, it would probably cause his face to shatter. He says, "Hope's school is hosting a Safe Space Halloween party, and I need more adults to help supervise."

Wade stares at him for a minute, trying to see if Nate's showing any signs of a head injury or a stroke. When he speaks, it is slow and deliberate to make sure that if there is a head injury or stroke happening, Nate will at least understand him. "And you think that I am an ideal person to be put in charge of children?"

"I actually want you for perimeter security," Nate says. Then he adds, "But you should probably consider dressing up. And yes, I am going to pay you for your time."

It is Wade's turn to give a long-suffering sigh, and he says, "Fine. Whatever." Then he chuckles. "You're the second person to ask me to do security work for them today. I guess I'm good for something after all."

"You are good for a lot of things, Wade," Nate says, firmly correcting Wade's negativity. "I could hire muscle anywhere, but I need someone who is reliable, who I know I can trust, who has already proven himself as a person of character."

Wade nods, feeling both chastised and a little flattered. Nate is always after him about his negative self-talk, and sometimes Wade forgets. But it can be so damn hard to say good things about yourself when you're used to only hearing the bad. The only place Wade ever excelled was in the military, but he hopes he can change that. Maybe be known for something other than a jarhead grunt good for kicking ass and little else.

It is with that thought in mind that Wade's cell phone dings with an alert that he has a new email. The email is from Professor Parker, and is titled Week 1.

It says:

This is just a reminder to keep you on track for the week.

Get logged into the Aleks site. Instructions are in the Course Content file. All your homework will be through the online lab, and it is vital that you stay on top of it for this course.

Get a composition book and get it filled out as per the instructions in Getting Started. A lab log is required for this class, and must be in your possession every class session.

Don't forget to look up Lab Safety contracts. We will discuss this next Monday and by the end of class you will sign and submit your contract.

Remember to check your student email. If you are not checking your email, you will not receive important class information.

If you have any questions, feel free to email me any time.

See you Monday,

Peter

Wade reads and rereads the email, and realizes forgot all about the Aleks online lab.

"Something wrong?" Nate asks.

Wade stands. "I just realized I forgot something for one of my classes."

"I will not tolerate slacking on homework, Wade," Nate says in a fatherly tone that probably makes his daughter's eyes roll as much as it makes Wade's.

Doing homework is not a foreign thing for Wade, even if he is 40. Okay, two years shy of 40. 38. Whatever. There was a lot of class time in the military, and he spent a good deal of time filling out reports and paperwork, and there was always some kind of an assignment happening. True, none of it involved figuring LCD's or discussing the difference between psychodynamic and humanistic theories of psychology, but still. He's used to having things to do at the end of the day.

Wade goes to his backpack and pulls out his Chemistry file folder to find the Aleks access card, and grabs his laptop. He goes to the website, only to discover that he needs a course code to get logged in to his course. Wade goes to the Blackboard page and searches through the Course Content file while Nate scrolls through his DVR, but comes up with nothing. So he reads and opens every item in the entire section, only to find himself still empty handed.

So Wade hits reply and types:

Professor Peter,

My deepest desire is to start my homework, but alas, I can't find the course code for Aleks. I would not be surprised if I completely missed something, but I've clicked on everything and have felt nothing but sadness.

So I need the course code.

Thanks,

Wade

After hitting Send, Wade sets aside his laptop and asks Nate, "You want a beer or did you just bippity bop in here to proposition me?"

"I'll have a beer," Nate answers flatly. While Wade is in the kitchen, he asks, "Why do you have so much WWE on your DVR?"

"Are you kidding?" Wade hands Nate a beer and says. "Three hours of buff men in speedos and angry chicks who can break things with their thighs. Entertainment wrestling is a bisexual paradise."

"It just seems a very uncouth form of entertainment," Nate says, and Wade again rolls his eyes. The only thing that saves Nate from a lecture in just how uncouth he can be is Weasel coming through the door with a pizza from the bowling alley.

The three men end up watching Raw from the night before, just to educate Nate in why WWE isn't the worst thing on earth, with Weasel and Wade explaining the back stories (scripted or imagined by the two of them). Nate is kind of disturbed by the men wearing sheep masks and is starting to join the debate over if the sheep thing is some kind of euphemism or just an aesthetic when Wade's phone dings again.

Nice wording. Should be in the folder now. Sorry about that.

Peter

Wade chuckles, and replies.

Thank you very much. And sorry for being verbose. I've had a lot of excitement today.

Wade

Weasel gives him a curious look and asks, "That your co-ed?"

Nate's eyebrow forms a question mark. "Co-ed?"

"Professor," Wade corrects. "Just getting back to me about a question I had."

"Is she hot?" Weasel asks with genuine interest.

Wade tisks, and says, "Sexist, as if the only reason I could like something is because of sex appeal."

Both Nate and Weasel give him a similar look indicating that they are not buying what he is selling.

Wade smirks. "He's pretty adorable."

"Whatever makes you pay attention, I guess," Weasel says with a jovial laugh. "That's like Professor Monroe in my meteorology course. I think she hated me, but goddamn, I loved that class."

"Did you learn anything about meteorology?" Nate asks blandly.

"No," Weasel answers. "But I was an asshole kid. It'd be different now. Probably. Maybe."

Wade's phone dings again.

Questions, comments, long or short are always welcome and appreciated. Be as verbose as you wanna.

Peter

Wade can't help but laugh. That's opening a can of worms.

Awesome. I'm just happy I didn't miss it. I'll admit that I am somewhat of a Luddite in that I am definitely not used to this newfangled online book learning. I haven't been in school in 20 years, and seem to have missed a few things along the way.

Again, Thanks.

Wade

Nate shakes his head and says, "You do know that professor/student relationships are generally frowned upon and often result in someone losing a job, right?"

"I'm not trying to sleep with the guy," Wade says with a tone usually reserved for southern belle's whose honor has been called into question. "I mean, I do have some dignity. If I get a good grade in Chem 101, it is not going to be because I'm the best piece of ass in New Salem."

Weasel snorts; Nate sighs.

Wade loves his friends. Loves them with all of his little heart.

It was kind of a fortunate accident that Wade ran into Weasel again a few years ago. Wade moved to Weasel's school district during his senior year, and the two became good friends. Then Wade joined the Marines and Weasel went to college to become an even bigger nerd than he already was (computer systems administrator for Advanced Idea Mechanics), and the two fell out of touch for the better part of two decades. Then the invention of Facebook happened, and on a whim Wade searched Weasel (known to plebs as Jack Hammer-no shit), and turns out they lived in the same borough of New York City.

When Weasel got the option to telecommute to work, he decided to move to New Salem, which was around the same time that Wade found out that his beautiful wife had a hairy lover. Weasel, being the stand up guy he is, offered to dig up as much digital dirt possible on the soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Wilson, but Wade turned him down. He did accept the offer to move in with him on a temporary basis. That was almost two years ago.

Though Wade could easily afford his own place (especially after today), he was happy to have had Weasel around through the ups and low, low downs of divorce. Sometimes Wade felt like he was going crazy with the shit that Shiklah was doing, like freezing his assets, reporting his car as stolen, trying to steal his cat, Mr. Crusty Bottoms. The thing with Crusty was downright mean, even if the stuck up bastard never wants to chill with Wade anymore and always hides in Weasel's room like the betrayer that he is.

The point is, Weasel is a good friend. He was the one who talked Wade into seeing a therapist to deal with some of his shit (most of which had more to do with war than with divorce). And even if Nathan Summers, aka Priscilla, is just another friend from when he was a Marine and isn't an actual licensed therapist, he is a master of Baguazhang, which is pretty much the same thing. Once a week they get together and throw each other around the mat, and usually end up talking about feelings after the adrenaline high goes away. And sometimes, like now, Nate becomes a human being and chills in the living room for a few hours before soaring away to save the world or whatever it is he does when Wade isn't there to supervise.

The best part of being friends with both Weas and Nate is the fact that they accept Wade for who he is. He can relax and be himself and not be judged for liking boys and girls and sometimes having lengthy conversations with himself while making breakfast. He's not crazy; he just doesn't know how to shut up, and he's better at processing things out loud than just in his head.

And best of all, his two best friends are pretty good friends too. Which is why they can laugh and jab and be ridiculous, and really Wade couldn't ask for a better celebration of his freedom. He does feel free. Really free, and everything is looking pretty good. He just hopes it can stay that way, and if Nate and Weasel have anything to do with it, it probably will.