A/N: Thanks so much for reading and especially for those of you reviewing! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your comments. I love the feedback! Anyway, on with the show…
"What the hell did you tell her, Foggy?"
Foggy slowly unwound his scarf and hung it up on the coatrack by the door. "Well, good morning to you, too."
"I'm not kidding."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Foggy said as he made his way over to the coffee machine.
Matt followed him. "Karen. Did you tell her?"
"I'm assuming you mean about your clandestine nighttime activities."
Matt let out a long, slow breath, striving for patience. "Yes."
"No. I didn't tell her, Matt. I can't believe you'd even have to ask that." Foggy answered curtly and then strode across the reception area and into his office. He sat down at his desk and then popped up again and walked back to the doorway. "Although, I have to ask, why did you think that?"
Matt could hear the sudden concern in Foggy's voice and it twisted something inside of him that Foggy cared so deeply for Karen's safety.
"She asked me something last night."
"What?"
"She wanted to know if…I knew him. The Mask."
"Holy shit."
"Yeah."
"What did you tell her?"
"I evaded the question with a bunch of bullshit. I don't think she believed a word of it, but she didn't question it."
"Why would she think that?" Foggy asked, stunned.
"We were walking home from Molloy's and someone tried to steal her purse."
"And you went all 'caped crusader'?"
Matt stared in Foggy's direction, hands on hips. "Actually, she handled him pretty well."
"She's been taking self-defense classes."
"What?"
"She said she was tired of feeling afraid."
"Jesus." Matt said as he sat on the corner of Foggy's desk.
"So, she kicked the burglar's ass…what does that have to do with you?"
"I…helped."
"You helped."
"I wasn't thinking! She was going toe-to-toe with him and I just…acted."
"Acted? Like Daredevil?"
"A little. I guess."
"What? Did you ninja flip over him or something?"
"No, nothing like that. I just grabbed him by the throat." Matt swallowed, remembering the feeling of the man's blood supply being cut off as he squeezed harder and harder until Karen had pulled at his arm.
Foggy sat down in his desk chair and swiveled back and forth. "Maybe you should tell her."
"No." Matt responded immediately.
"Matt—"
"It's bad enough that you know, Fog. Look what's happened since."
"Yeah. Sometimes…a lot of times, I wish I never found out."
Matt stood up and walked to the window in Foggy's office, feeling the slight heat of the winter's sun. "I'm sorry."
Foggy could practically feel the weight of the man's guilt from across the room. "Don't be. It's not your fault."
Matt turned, surprised. "I thought you hated what I do."
"I do. But not for the reasons you think."
"Oh really?"
Foggy shrugged, not sure exactly how to put his feelings into words. "It's a lot for you to carry."
Matt was momentarily overwhelmed by his friend's sympathy. He'd never expected that. "What do I do about Karen, Fog? She can't find out. It'll put her in danger. There are people out there looking for me, and if they think she has information—"
"I know, I know." Foggy interrupted. "You're gonna have to throw her off your trail."
"How?"
"I don't know? Maybe be more blind?"
Matt smiled for the first time in a long time. "Be more blind?"
"I don't know!" Foggy threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "I don't know why you ever kept up the act in the first place! I mean, I get it at first, but then why—"
Now it was Matt's turn to interrupt. "The act?"
"I mean, I get it—you can't see with your eyes, but other than that, you're better than any sighted person, Matt!" Foggy could feel his temper rising.
Matt slowly reached up and removed his glasses. "How do I explain this, then?"
"Shit." Foggy said as he sank back down into his chair.
Matt put his glasses back on. "There's no place for me. I'm not blind, exactly. But I'm definitely not sighted, Fog. It has to be this way."
"I'm sorry."
"No, you have nothing to apologize for. I wish you didn't have to deal with this." Matt said as he started to walk back towards his own office.
"Do you really?"
"Hmm?" Matt turned.
"Do you really wish you'd never told me?"
Matt didn't know what to say or how to answer. The truth was that it was a hell of a lot simpler when Foggy didn't know. But he couldn't deny the relief that he felt that his best friend finally knew who he really was. "I don't know."
Foggy flinched a little at Matt's response, but he understood. Or, at least understood as much as he possibly could. Matt's life was like something out of a superhero movie. A secret identity, powerful gifts, and running around at night in his black pajamas. Foggy shook his head as he turned his attention to the sounds of heels clicking in the hallway outside.
"You'd better figure out how to derail her."
"Yeah. I will." Matt said as he turned away from Foggy and toward the opening door.
"Morning." Matt said as he listening to Karen enter and begin removing her coat and hat.
"Hi." She said, shivering. "It's freezing out there."
Matt smiled. "Coffee?"
"Um, sure. Thanks." She answered, surprised. She followed him to the small kitchenette area and waited while he poured her a mug.
"I'm sorry our night turned out like that." He said as he held out the mug to her.
"It's not your fault." She took the mug. "I mean, I'm just glad you were there to help me—"
"You were doing a pretty good job on your own."
"Thanks."
"Foggy said you've been taking self-defense classes."
Karen could feel her heartrate speed up. "Yeah, well…I thought it was a good idea."
"It is. I've taken a few, myself."
"You have?"
Matt smiled. "Yeah, I mean, I don't like to admit it, but a blind man, at night in the city…I don't want to be an easy target."
Karen studied him carefully. He looked slightly awkward or embarrassed, but something inside her told her it wasn't the truth. For whatever reason, this was an act.
"You seem like you can handle yourself."
"I can defend myself Karen, but it doesn't mean I go looking for trouble."
Karen felt suddenly exposed by his words. Did Matt know? She hadn't told anyone about James Wesley. Not a soul, but she still had the feeling that people that knew what she'd done were watching her always. She didn't want to live like that, but she'd not yet formulated a plan regarding what to do about it.
"Sometimes trouble finds you—whether you want it to or not."
Matt didn't answer her. He figured their conversation had run its course for the moment. He'd hoped to derail her thinking that he was acquainted with—or God forbid—was the Daredevil, but instead he'd only become more confused and more worried about Karen.
Maybe he should try Foggy's idea and be more blind. He could always walk into the doorjamb or knock over a lamp.
xXx
The next week brought only more of the same for Matt. He and Karen kept dancing around each other with cryptic comments and unanswered questions. He'd tried again to see if Foggy knew anything, but apparently Karen was equally tightlipped with him. The only thing Foggy knew was that she'd been taking a lot of self-defense classes lately.
Matt waited until midnight and then changed into his 'black pjs', as Foggy had dubbed them. Tonight wasn't about fighting, so he'd opted to leave the custom suit at home. Tonight was about recon.
He easily scaled the fire escape outside of Karen's building and landed with quiet feet on the landing outside her window. He crouched down and listened. Surprisingly, he didn't detect any signs of life inside the apartment. He eased open the unlocked window, mentally noting to casually remind her to lock her windows.
He stopped just inside the living room, listening. He could hear the TV blaring The Tonight Show in the apartment next door but nothing was coming from Karen's apartment. He stepped out from the shadows and walked around.
It smelled like her in here. Vanilla and coconut. He could feel the beat of his own heart increase as he moved through her private space. He felt guilty and remorseful as he did so, but it didn't stop him. His need to understand what had changed between them overrode his feelings.
He entered her bedroom and found a neatly made bed and a scattering of clothes thrown atop of it. Matt picked up a blouse that felt like silk and then another similar one. There were various shoes littering the floor by the mirror; one high heel, one boot.
Near her bed, he could smell ink. A quick scan of her nightstand revealed a small notebook tossed in with a variety of costume jewelry.
Matt opened the notebook and peeled off his glove, letting his fingers scan the letters. It was difficult, but not impossible to read print this way. Fortunately, Karen tended to press hard into the pulp of the paper. Unfortunately, she tended to use exaggerated, loopy handwriting.
Still, he was able to pick out a few words: Wesley, Gao, Yakuza, Potter, and Mahoney.
Matt felt his blood run cold. What on earth was Karen doing?