"See you later, guys!"

"Later, dude."

"Yeah, see you at graduation, Peter!"

Peter threw Ned and Betty one last wave as he pushed the door open and stepped out of the pizza place backwards. His friends waved back with matching grins, and Peter turned, smiling, toward the sunlit face of New York City.

Of his city.

It was a beautiful afternoon, even if everything was still a bit damp and chilly due to the rainstorm that had swept through the night before. The sky was now a stark blue above him, the streets were full of couples and families making their way to their favorite Sunday lunch spots, and unless he was mistaken, the traffic didn't seem quite as bad as usual today either. There was even a busker playing skillfully on the corner just outside the pizza place, and Peter dropped a few dollars in change from lunch into the woman's guitar case as he passed. He sighed happily and bit into his leftover pizza slice as he walked.

His conversation with Ned and Betty had gone really well.

He'd basically started their little lunch date out by thanking them again for Friday night, and then he'd told them a very watered-down version of the incident with the woman and Daredevil. Ned hadn't seemed as excited that he'd gotten to meet Daredevil as Peter expected him to be, but then again, Peter probably should have started by telling him that rather than the fact that he'd been shot up with a strange sedative minutes before he met the defender of Hell's Kitchen.

Either way, he'd managed to convince Ned and Betty that he felt totally fine today, and they'd spent the rest of their two-hour-long conversation just talking about anything and everything—and brainstorming for Peter's plan, of course.

He still hadn't figured out exactly what he was going to do with MJ tonight, but he was certainly a lot closer. He had some ideas to run by May when he got back to the apartment here in a little bit, at least, and that was one big step closer than he'd been prior to his lunch date with his friends.

Peter had just finished his pizza and was trying to surreptitiously wipe the grease off his fingers, grimacing as he did so, when he heard it.

The sound of someone in trouble:

"Gimme your wallet, man."

The words were growled in typical brusque bad-guy style, and Peter might not have noticed them at all above the inescapable ebb and flow of city sounds if it hadn't been for the fact that they were coming from the alley he was just passing. (Well, that and the fact that his hearing was a tad better than the average human's anyway).

Peter stopped dead in his tracks next to the alleyway, hoping his ears were tricking him even as he ignored the people elbowing him as they passed, annoyed he was no longer keeping up with the flow of traffic.

"I won't ask again. Give me the money…or else," the man's voice growled again, quieter this time but definitely not friendly. Someone was about to get mugged—and the mugger sounded like he'd lifted every one of his lines from a TV show.

"I don't—"

That was a new voice, cut off suddenly by the first voice—the mugger's voice—saying something low and indistinct enough to get lost in translation.

Yeah, no way.

Peter's heartrate spiked in anticipation, and he instinctively adopted a slight bend in his knees that would serve him well should he have to leap quickly into action. The alley was narrow enough he might even be able to get away with a few acrobatics if need be. He quickly crept forward, scanning the trashy, shadow-infested alleyway and the tangle of fire escapes for signs of the mugger and his would-be victim. He didn't know if there would be weapons involved, but the fact that this guy was stupid enough to attempt a mugging in broad daylight—and at one of the busiest times of day—gave him hope that this would end up a pretty clean ordeal overall. Maybe he'd even get lucky and not have to pull out his powers to stop this guy at all.

Or this guy's aforementioned stupidity might make the situation ten times worse than it normally would be—either way, he needed to be ready for anything.

He got a few steps into the alley and had just moved past a stack of old, busted shipping pallets when he saw what he was looking for—an average-sized guy dressed in a T-shirt, slacks, and a black ski mask (seriously?!) pinning a slightly smaller figure in a suit up against the wall, one forearm at his throat.

Heart now thudding a familiar rhythm in his ears, Peter impressively did not think about what had happened in Hell's Kitchen on Friday. He straightened up to his full height and faced the pair.

"Hey!"

As it turned out—and in complete violation of all the rules of Peter Parker's life—that one ambiguous word was all he had to say. The would-be mugger started at the sound of Peter's voice, took one look at him, and then unceremoniously shoved his victim—who fell sideways into something that broke under his weight like wood—and then took off running the opposite direction.

Peter's initial impulse, trained as it was by countless similar situations out on patrol, was to chase the guy down, web him up, and take him straight to the cops. He could tell just by the guy's pathetic reaction that it wouldn't even take much effort on his part. But today there were a few complications. For starters, he wasn't even supposed to be Spiderman right now, so he had neither his webs nor any other way to discreetly take the guy down. Second, and most importantly, the guy's would-be victim seemed to have been shoved pretty hard and had yet to say anything, and he was Peter's first priority. He had to make sure he was okay.

Peter clenched his jaw and jogged to where the man had fallen. He kept his eye on the mugger until he disappeared at the other end of the alley, making a mental note to try and find the guy later. Somehow.

The mugger's attempted victim was propped awkwardly on one arm when Peter reached him, half-sprawled in a nest of splinters that once might have been a milk crate. His round, dark glasses were somewhat askew, and his expression was slack enough that Peter immediately worried he'd hit his head or something.

"Sir! Are you alright?" Peter asked, crouching a little and reaching a cautious hand out to gently touch the man's shoulder.

The man grimaced and readjusted himself under Peter's touch, pulling himself into a more upright position; it allowed Peter to notice for the first time that he held a red-tipped cane loosely in one hand. The man's unorthodox glasses shape suddenly made a lot more sense, and Peter's opinion of the man who had done this, the man he'd let escape, dropped a few more degrees.

"W—what happened?" the man said quietly, licking his lips and blinking in Peter's general direction.

Peter rocked back on his heels.

"Some guy was trying to rob you. I heard and came to stop him if I could, but he pushed you and ran as soon as he saw me—sorry about that. I probably could have handled that a little better. Are you able to get up?

The man listened intently to Peter's quick explanation, his dark eyebrows drawn low over his eyes, and he nodded immediately upon hearing Peter's question. A roguish grin, seemingly at odds with the vibe Peter got from his neatly combed hair and suit and tie, played along the man's lips. He stood up as Peter hovered awkwardly in front of him, unsure if he should try to help or not.

Peter noted them man didn't seem rattled by what had happened at all now, and once he was on his feet, Peter could see he'd suffered nothing more than scraped palms and perhaps a few bruises from falling into the crate. The teenager breathed an internal sigh of relief. This was twice he'd been lucky in a potentially deadly situation lately—what was up with that?

(Not that he was complaining, of course).

"Matthew Murdock," the man said after he'd taken a deep breath and had straightened his glasses and tie. He put his hand out slightly too far to the left, and Peter quickly took it. That name seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place why.

"Peter Parker. Nice to meet you, sir."

"The pleasure is all mine," Mr. Murdock said, smirking. "I never saw the guy coming."

Peter was about to tell him it was no problem at all when he realized what Mr. Murdock had said. He blinked, unsure of whether it was less offensive to laugh at the obvious self-deprecating joke or to just ignore it. He cast about for something to say but ultimately ended up opting for the latter option.

"Uh, it was, um, no problem at all," he said after a few uncertain heartbeats. "I've gotten in some sketchy situations coming home through alleys like this myself."

Mr. Murdock snorted in something akin to amusement, and Peter blushed but grinned weakly himself.

"I guess I shouldn't have tried cutting through the alleyway to save myself some time, even in the middle of the day," Mr. Murdock remarked, more solemnly now, as he cocked his head in the direction his would-be mugger had fled.

Peter took a breath and shook his head as he glanced back down the alleyway.

"Yeah, well, it's stupid to go mugging people any time of the day, much less at lunchtime. And it's bonus stupid points if you wear a ski mask to do it."

The man raised his eyebrows at the obvious exasperation in Peter's voice.

"He was wearing a ski mask?"

"Yeah. All black, just like in—in uh, cheesy cop-and-robber movies."

"Ah," the man said.

A few awkward seconds passed—seconds in which Peter had no idea what to say because he'd only really saved people like this as Spiderman and it was a lot easier to be loose and cool when he was Spiderman and/or he wasn't just hanging out in a shadowy alley—and then Peter hit upon something that might get the conversation flowing toward a natural conclusion again. He was sure Mr. Murdock had somewhere important to be.

"Do you want me to walk with you anywhere else?" Peter asked. He realized just a little too late how that might sound and quickly added, "It looked like you got pushed pretty hard from where I was standing. And I don't know where that guy went."

Mr. Murdock smiled, and it was a confident smile, one that looked well-used.

"I appreciate it, but I'm fine. Thank you. I doubt he'll try to mug me twice in the same afternoon."

Peter frowned, hoping that was true. But then again, who knew? He'd run into some crazier dudes over the years. As long as Mr. Murdock stayed around more crowded streets, however, he would probably be just fine. Still…

"If you don't mind me asking, did the guy sound familiar to you? Or talk like he knew you?" Peter asked, not able to resist. If Mr. Murdock was being targeted, Peter might be able to do something about it as Spiderman later—if not right now, as Peter Parker.

Mr. Murdock shook his head, still wearing a slight smirk as crossed his hands on top of his cane and leaned forward on it.

"No. And I try to remember the voices of the people who want to kill me, so my guess is that he picked his target randomly." Mr. Murdock paused long enough to smirk fully and clear his throat. "Mostly randomly, that is."

Peter blinked, alarmed by the man's first sentence.

"Excuse me, Mr. Murdock—"

"Call me Matt."

Peter cleared his throat.

"Uh, Matt. Did…did you say, 'the people who want to kill you?' Is this something that…you know, happens often? Have you told the police?"

Matt grinned, though his expression seemed suddenly apologetic despite how his eyes were shielded from view. He reached into his suit jacket.

"Yes. Sorry. That probably didn't make much sense out of context."

He pulled a small white card out of his pocket and extended it to Peter. Nelson and Murdock, it read. Attorneys at Law.

"I'm a defense lawyer," Matt explained.

"Ohhhh."

Oh.

That was why Matt's name seemed familiar. Peter had heard of this law firm before, in relation to Wilson Fisk, if he wasn't mistaken—one of the biggest crime bosses New York had ever seen, who'd been taken down either before or in the early days of Spiderman's career.

This guy must be good.

And he probably did have a lot of enemies to worry about.

"You can keep the card. It's not entirely accurate now, but the contact information should be correct," Matt continued.

Peter looked up, a little confused. Was…was Matt plugging his firm right now? If he was—and especially if he was because he and his partner were actually that good at what they did—Peter was cool with it. He couldn't imagine there would be a shortage of work since society was still trying to readjust to having half its population back again and lawyers were an important part of getting people's possessions and property and whatnot back in order…but it just seemed like weird timing. And, honestly, he kind of hoped he'd never need a lawyer anyway.

No offense to Mr. Matthew Murdock and Franklin Nelson—he'd much rather stay on this side of the law.

Well, aside from the vigilantism, Peter thought somewhat guiltily. He wondered how a lawyer might respond to being tasked with defending Spiderman, and he quickly put that thought out of mind.

"Are you sure?" Peter asked because obviously he couldn't say what he was really thinking about lawyers right now. How was a normal person supposed to respond to an unsolicited business card anyway?

"I would offer you cash as compensation for what you did instead," Matt said, jerking a little at the suddenness of a car horn blaring in the street—at the exact same time Peter did. "But you would be just as disappointed as my would-be mugger on that front."

Peter shook his head vigorously at the words, the presentation of the business card making more sense now.

"No, no, that's more than fine, sir. Seriously. I did what anybody would…I'm just glad that guy was a coward and no one got hurt. Thanks for the card!"

Matt's lips quirked.

"Either way, if you ever need any kind of legal representation, Mr. Parker, my partner and I would be honored to represent you. Free of charge, of course."

Peter smiled. It definitely wasn't an offer he got every day, and while he still hoped he never had to see Matt again in the context of an actual legal case, the man seemed nice.

"Thanks! But again, it really wasn't a big deal."

Matt shook his head, and his expression seemed somehow clearer than it had been the entire time they'd been talking. He reached down and ran his fingers over a watch hidden just under his sleeve.

"It's the least I can do. Listen, I've got to go now, but…I'll hear you around, Peter," he said with another half-smile, tilting his head toward the teen. And then he turned to leave the alley the same way he must have come in.

"Yeah, uh, it was nice to meet you. Again. Mr. uh, Matt."

Peter gave him an awkward little wave on impulse and then he also turned before he could do anything else embarrassing, prepared to exit the alleyway the same way the mugger did because it was always so awkward when you said goodbye to someone and then ended up walking the same way as them. And he had absolutely no desire to experience any more awkwardness in this conversation.

It was time to go home and plan a date.

They parted ways, then, Matt's cane clicking as he moved off down the alley. Peter looked once more at the card in his hand and what it represented, then shook his head in bewilderment and tucked it into his pocket.

At least it would be a story to tell MJ tonight.

A/N: Yeah, so this chapter is pretty much just self-indulgent I-wanted-to-write-a-meeting-between-Matt-and-Peter and also was written while I had Covid, but I hope it was enjoyable anyway? There are two important things to note for the rest of this story, though: 1) I really need DATE IDEAS FOR PETER AND MJ, so I'm opening the floor for any and all suggestions there - please please please let me know what you might want to see as far as that goes in the next chapter.

2) I'm going to post the first chapter of a very short supplemental fic to this tomorrow. It explains why Peter met Matt like he did here - it will NOT be from Peter's POV, but will feature Foggy + angst and will probably be a few chapters long (I really want to try my hand at writing more Matt and Foggy and also feel the need to explain the reasoning behind this chapter, okay?)

Thanks for reading! I hope the Christmas season is treating you well out there. God bless. :)

"Praise the Lord, all nations! Extol him, all peoples! For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord!" ~ Psalm 117