"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." Helen Keller


A loud knocking on his door wakes him up. He moans when he accidently shifts his weight to his left arm and the pain is hitting him. It takes a moment until all his senses wake up as well. He fumbles for his speaking clock. "It's nine and thirty six minutes," the mechanical voice announces. For a second, Matt thinks that he has overslept but then he remembers that it is Saturday and he does not have to go to the office. Another knocking, louder this time. He rises, shuffles towards the door, putting on a hoodie on the way. He opens the door. "Hello, Captain." He sketches a salute as she is wearing uniform; Matt can smell the starched shirt and sense the rubbing of the thick fabric.

"Hi Matt", Lena kisses him on the cheek and squeezes lightly his arm. She frowns when he flinches.

"That bad?" she asks worried, following him to the living room, trying to ignore the effects his tousled hair has on her.

He waves his hand. "Just a scratch."

She doubts. "Need patching up?" She tosses her duffle bag in a corner.

Matt shakes his head. "A friend of mine, she's a nurse at the Metro General, she came by last night."

"With your nightly activities, it's certainly an advantage to be close friend with any kind of medical personnel. Some superheroes as backup might also come handy."

"I already have the Marine Corps, so what do I need Ironman for?"

She grins. "Semper fi! The pictures you send made me interested. And since I don't have any urgent cases at the moment, I thought I drop by and have a look myself."

"You're very welcome", he says. In fact, just listening to Lena's voice and her velvet chuckle makes him forget his pain. "Coffee?" he asks.

"Sure."

He pulls the rifle from under the sofa first and then goes then to the kitchen to make coffee. Lena sits down on the floor and examines the weapon. "Looks like an old army rifle. The serial number is removed. It's in poor shape. Someone fixed it, but not really in a professional manner. Where did you get it?"

"Someone is equipping gangs with them. I have to stop that, before we have a full-fledged war in Hell's Kitchen."

"There are more?"

"Dozens."

"It's definitely military. But from a single weapon is hard to say where it's from. I need to see more of them."

"The police might have more. They are investigating on the matter as well, but my contact in the police department wasn't very talkative." In fact, Brett Mahoney just refused to share any information with him when he – as Matt Murdock – visited him at the precinct. "No information sharing with the enemy" was the police officer's position.

"Well, maybe I'm more successful. Could test how inter-agency cooperation is really working today."

"That may be in fact helpful." Matt handed her a cup with coffee and sits down on the sofa. "And how are you?" he asks.

Lena shrugs. "Okay, I guess. The nights are getting better."

"Liar."

"Likewise." She rises, approaches him and pats him firmly on his left shoulder, what makes him groan. "Just a scratch? A shot from such a weapon can rip off your arm. You were damn lucky."

"Yeah, Claire…my friend, she said the same thing." Matt moves his left arm to test its flexibility and notices that the bandage that Claire had put on has loosened. He asks Lena to help him change it.

"Sure," Lena says. Though when he takes off his hoodie and she sits down next to him on the sofa, she is not so sure that this was a good idea. She remembers the night he fell through her skylight and she patched him up. Then as now, she feels the intensity of his presence. And the fact that he is half naked makes it not easier. Her eyes catch the many scars on this body and for a moment, she holds her breath. He notices her hesitation. "That bad?"

She shakes her head. "No…yes! You will kill yourself one day, you know that." She removes the bandage on the arm. The neat stitches are holding. The wound does not look infected.

"It may not look like it, but I'm getting better at beating on the bad guys." He grins roguishly and Lena comes definitely to the conclusion that having Matt that close to her is not good for her inner balance. She quickly searches an appropriate patch in Matt's first aid box and applies it on the wound. Then she grabs the hoodie and throws it to him. "You should put that on again."

"Do I make you nervous?" he teases her.

"Just worried that you catch a cold. As I said, you're not my type."

"Liar." He reaches for her hand and presses his fingers softly on her artery. "Your heartbeat is giving you away."

"Show-off," she replies, trying to ignore the prickling feeling in her stomach when he starts kissing the inside of her wrist. He caresses her neck, pulls her gently closer to him, before kissing her lips. She lets it happen, for a moment at least. She draws back when she feels his hand on her thigh. She clears her throat. "I'd better go to the precinct and check what they have on the weapons."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Can I leave my bag? I pick it up later when I check into a hotel for the night."

"Sure. Call me if there are any news." Matt sighs when she is gone, he knows that he scared her off.


Lena arrives at the precinct shortly before noon. She goes directly to the desk sergeant. "My name is Captain Helena MacKenzie, Marine C.I.D.," she introduces herself, flashing her ID-badge.

Brett Mahoney, who is on week-end shift, straightens up involuntary when he sees the woman in uniform.

"We got a tip about military weapons in New York. I'm charged with a preliminary investigation on their source," Lena explains.

The rest of the day, Lena works through dozens of police reports, interrogation protocols and witness statements. Brett takes her as well to the evidence room where she examines the seized weapons. Like the one she saw in Matt's apartment, they all are old and have clear traces of usage. Lena doubts that they were stolen from the military, and if so – years ago. She tells Brett her conclusion that it does not look like a case for her agency.

Brett sighs. "We could have used some help."

"I'm checking our files when I'm back in the office. Perhaps I find some old cases which aren't yet resolved," she promises. "And I heard you have the devil on your side, anyway."

Brett sighs again. "They call him Daredevil these days."

"What do you think of him?" Lena asks.

Brett shrugs. "It's not a secret that our precinct had a problem with dirty cops and we owe to Daredevil that Fisk was taken down. Yet, as a cop – and as citizen in fact – I cannot approve vigilante justice. Fisk and his alleys account for their actions in court now. To whom Daredevil is accountable?"

Lena nods, she understands Mahoney's point of view very well and, in principle, she agrees with him. She knows that she is aiding and abetting a vigilante. Something that is not really compatible with her job as a law enforcing agent.

A loud alarm is interrupting her thoughts. "There was a shooting at 49th. They bring in some gangbangers," Brett informs her. Lena decides to wait, maybe a look at the suspects would give a new lead. Finally the police officers arrive with only one suspect at the precinct, two more were directly brought to ER, they might not making it.

"Did he talk?" Lena asks Brett. The young police officer shakes his head. "He asked for his lawyer right away." Brett nods towards a well-dressed man at the other side of the room. "And he arrived spot on. Thomas Marshall, attorney-at-law." The contempt in Brett's voice cannot be missed.

"Why sounds the name familiar?" Lena wonders.

"You read it in the files. He defends all these gangbangers."

"Do you think he has something to do with the weapons?"

"You mean, that he sells first weapons to the gangs that so he later can make money defending them in court?" Brett shakes his head. "That's too far-fetched. He's just a greedy pettyfooger."

Lena is not so sure. It sounds far-fetched, sure. But she doubts that there is much money in defending gangbangers. She says goodbye to Brett and leaves the police station. It is already dark outside. She makes a few steps and hides in the shadow of an alley.


She does not have to wait long, before Thomas Marshall steps out of the building. The attorney is an easy subject to follow, he walks down the street without turning back. Lena stops in the corner when he enters a club. The bouncer at the door just waves him through, he seems to be a regular.

This could be a dead end, perhaps Marshall is just enjoying his beer after a long working day in his favourite club. To find out, she must follow him in the club, however, in her uniform, she is not really low-key. And Lena knows that it would be reckless to go in without back-up. The opposite building is abandoned, probably another ruin left by the incident. Lena squeezes through a gap in the barricaded entrance. She calls Matt and gives him a short update. "When you bring me some of my clothes, I can go in the club and have a closer look at this guy," she concludes. "In my bag are some skinny jeans and a black…sorry...silk top."

Matt is not really fond of Lena's idea, but he knows that he hardly would be able to argue her out of it, so he gives in.


Even though she is expecting him, Matt takes her by surprise when he finally arrives in the building. He is in his Daredevil outfit and Lena notices once more how different effects his three personas – Matt, Daredevil, the attorney – have on her. He is not threatening her at all at the moment, however, not only the costume, his whole body language is menacing when he is Daredevil. He hands her a plastic bag with her clothes.

"I would ask you to turn around, but I guess that makes no difference for you," Lena says. "I mean, can you tell whether a person is clothed or not, anyway?"

Matt answers with a vague hum. He makes a few steps back and turns around to give her some privacy, but she is right, it makes no difference. And hell yes, he can sense the difference between a naked woman and a dressed one. He smells the pure scent of her naked skin when she takes off her jacket and skirt. He senses the reaction of her body hair to the draft. He tries to focus on the club, however his senses wander back to Lena.

"I thought you would come in plain clothes. You could have accompanied me in the club. With your injuries, there is no fighting anyway."

"I don't like crowded places, loud music and artificial fog very much. My senses tend to overload in such places," Matt explains. "And my shoulder is better. I meditated this afternoon."

"If you say so," Lena answers doubtfully. She checks her outfit, she was not prepared to go in some fancy clubs that weekend, but the jeans and the close-fitting shirt were sexy enough to go pass any bouncer. But definitely not to hide a gun, so she puts her SIG Sauer in the bag. The knife must be sufficient tonight.

"I'll watch your back," Matt promises. "And you look awesome."

"How'd even you know?"

"I know."


Author's note: Thanks to everyone who follows, favorites and reviews my story. I know that it took a while until the latest update. I'm a bit busy with other things at the moment, but I haven't given up on the story and it be continued.