Author's Note: Surprise Update, Once Again UnBeta'd but I feel like I have been improving, this chapter is shorter than the last but I hope that I make up for that with surprises.

"Pat," There was a voice calling out for me, followed by someone knocking on a door. There was another call, more knocking.

"I'm up," I told the voice, raising from my bed with mechanical movement, it seemed like I was wearing the same gear that had been shot up in last night. I threw the somehow intact jumper off and replaced it and rest of my clothes with a plaid shirt and jeans. Then to finish off I put on my glasses.

I didn't notice until about week after arriving here but somehow my eyesight had improved along with the rest of the body. At least ability wise. These glasses were just a pair of fakes, not cover up my identity or anything but simply because I believed that I looked better with glasses on.

I walked out my room and into the apartment's main area, the kitchen was at one end and Ben was at the other, working away at some article that Mitchell forced on him while he was in between large crime stories. Mitchell or as I was now meant to call him, at least according to Caldwell, Mr. Ellison was always attempting lean Ben off investigating crimes, he thought it was too dangerous for him, was worried that someone would go at for him in revenge.

So, for now, Ben was working on a piece about a charity fundraiser that Stark had hosted the previous night. It was for people affected by the Sokovian Crisis some years ago. Ben had a press invite to the party, apparently, this was an annual thing that Ben was sent to. So he was only leisurely typing up a storm, his pace being dictated by his interest in the subject.

Ben would have turned it down if he hadn't already needed the money, his wife, Doris was ill. She spent her time in the hospital, Ben was hoping that she would recover from her illness enough to come home soon. But the bills were steep so Ben took whatever work Mitchell paid him to do.

Skipping ahead over a few boring mourning details the two of us soon made our way back the to Bulletin Offices. Ben had some files he wanted me to sort through, then label them according to date, so that they could be scanned into a computer. This was part of the digitizing process that our files older files from the seventies and eighties were being put. It was a real preservation process that newer files had already been a part of.

It was during this work that I experienced the lovely presence of Caldwell. She had a sneer that only disappeared in the presence of Ben or Mitchell, her clothes were a much better business casual look than my own.

"Mr. Ellison," She spoke, her eyes looking away from me as if I was not worthy of her sight but this meant that she couldn't me nod at her. "I said, that Mr. Ellison," She spoke once again. "Wanted you in his office, Now"

There was an odd amount of anger that woman had for me. It was as if I was by me working here brought her problems in itself. Perhaps my presence took away some work that she could have paid overtime for. That would be a reason for it.

I put these thoughts away for the moment, walking forward into Mitchell's office. The man was sitting, leaned back relaxed in his chair. The boss seemed happy, which with Ben running around angering crime lords was first for him.

"Patrick, it's good that your here," The excited tone in his voice, showcased the vibe that I got from the man whenever the paper had a rise in sales. He placed his hands together, it was a pose that reminded of Mr. Burns. "Please have a seat, we have a bit to discuss"

"Of course, sir"

"You've been here a few months now," He started to shift through several familiar papers on the desk. He picked one up and slid across the desk to me. "Is that one of pieces Ben had you write?"

I nodded as I took a look at it, the faux-article was about a years-old crime spree, it was about some thief by the name of David Clinton, a former professor at a university that came under his wife's gambling debts. He used technology that he developed to break into a vault, SHIELD at the time managed to keep what tech that was under wraps. My faux-article was focused on the dangers that SHIELD's concealing the facts behind the crimes Clinton and how did set a precedent.

In other words, it was an easy article to write the power of hindsight.

"I like how you write," Mitchell told me, there must have surprise on my face because he chuckled. "I do, you've learned a lot under Ben"

"I don't even like that article," I told him, leaning back in my chair. It was the truth, I found that the piece was bland and could have only be written with the knowledge of the future that I had now. "Its pace is bad, I find my own pose appalling in that piece"

"Exactly," He told me, cutting off any further remarks I could make about the piece. "That's why I know your first piece will better"

"My first!" I yelled excitedly, sitting up with energy. "What on?!" My imagination was running wild, what fascinating project was I about to undergo.

"Well," Mitchell smiled, I think he found my exuberant display amusing. "We'll start you out small," He handed me out another sheet of paper. "There has been a string break-ins at this street for the past week, head down there and interview a few people." He shifted himself to look at his computer screen. "There was an incident last night so cops should still be on scene"

I could do nothing but nod, as I left the room, this was most excited I'd been since coming here. I was making an almost meteoric rise in the Bulletin. One I wasn't sure that worked, I'm secretary about to become a journalist, is that thing that happens? It didn't matter, I decided. If Mitchell wanted to see if I could make it in that field, then great.

I was so happy that I practical pranced, but I managed to keep myself from doing anything embarrassing in front of the others. On the way out of the office, Caldwell stood by the door. She was standing there with a strange smirk.

"Lunch Break hasn't started yet, Patrick," She said my name as if she was testing to see if the name really belonged to me. It didn't but I don't imagine that she knew that. "Get back inside"

"No can do, Caldwell," There was a hop to my step, a feeling jubilation that this lady couldn't transcend. "I've been sent a job to do by the bossman, you know outside of the office," I jogged past her rather pissed expression.

Having left the building, I started to jog at what others would consider below a runner's pace. I considered it the long way. It was then that I remembered, I had forgotten to check the address I was headed.

It was lucky that I didn't have to head back, because in my hand still was the report that Mitchell had handed to me earlier. Looking down I saw that the address, and while it shouldn't have surprised me for some reason it did. It was the store from last night.

What a massive coincidence, that I will not question whatsoever.

From there a picked my pace back up, as I thought about the route I would take, I remembered that the bus nearby, it's route leads near the location of the store. This was a situation I put myself in, you see several weeks ago Ben offered to teach me how to drive. I found too silly when I run over a hundred miles per hour, but it leads to me not wanting people to get suspicious about me getting around too fast.

I hopped onto the bus with little fanfare, lucky for me that there was one free double seat. Since getting the power of super speed I found buses to be painfully slow. I would spend my newly required lighting brain's time on buses daydreaming away about the homeland. Where I was in New York just as easy access to green, to grass that my home Ireland did. I never thought I would miss the smell being cut in a field. It was a different sort smell than I front yard grass getting cut, it was just so much more of it, more intensity to the smell.

"Hey," A young brunette spoke up, dragging me away from the homeland with one the driest voices I had ever heard. "No one sitting there, good," She said in such a rush that I didn't have time to respond.

"Phh," I stumbled at this small brunette sitting beside me. She wore dark clothes, a black jacket and grey scarf with matching black pants. The way she sat as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. Eventually decided on my word choice. "I'm Pat, Pat Doyle"

"Jessica"

There was a bored uninterested vibe I got from her. I decided that she didn't want to talk and simply waited for my stop on the bus in deadly silence. As I stood up to leave the bus I made sure to keep track of her, she seemed familiar somehow.

I put the lady in the back of my mind as I strolled up to the store where my heroics had been experienced for the first time. I imagined the praise that would be heaped onto that brave citizen that my delved into vigilantism but was done help a brave old man stand up the bullies of this city.

The first thing I saw was the yellow police tape surrounding the outside of the store. The damage that both I and the thugs inflicted on the place was as I had remembered it. I seemed to be the only reporter there, it made sense this wasn't really a crime that needed physical attention, it was minus the vigilante just a break-in gone badly. There were three uniformed officers standing guard. I approached the most affable looking officer.

"Hello, sir," He looked at me, no doubt to tell me to stay back from the tape but I interceded first. "I'm from the New York B-Bulletin, a-and I would like to ask you some questions if that is n-not any trouble, sir"

"Okay," It was a simple sentence, he was no doubt taking pity on my false stammering tone and nerves. "Both no direct reference to me, I do not want anybody mentioning I said anything in the papers"

"Of course," I nodded at him, it could be a concern for one of his superior not to let this example of vigilantism out, but no one was going to rat him out if he told some green journalist about such a small time crime. "Pat Doyle, it's nice to meet you," At this, I took out my notepad and pen.

"Sergeant Mahoney," He looked me up and down as if checking to see if I really was Pat Doyle of the New York Bulletin.

"R-right, then what happened here?" I asked as if I didn't know already. "Seems to me like some kind of break-in gone bad,"

"That seems to be the long and short of it"

"Do we have a time of e-event"

"About 2:30 AM, we can't be sure because the owner, a Phillip Jackson didn't have any cameras installed, just an alarm"

"N-no one was badly hurt right?" I asked honestly, not recalling so much blood just outside the store. It was a terrible mistake, I would have to be more careful so that I would just knock them out cold, rather than out of the store.

"Oh, people were badly hurt alright," He looked around, checking to see if any else was listening in. "One guy," He started to whisper this. "He looked to have most of his limbs broken, we won't be able to tell the extent of the damage until x-rays come," Mahoney wiped his brow, in what was a display of anguish for the injured party.

"And this was the robber?" I asked tentatively, starting to feel green at the raw damage that I accidentally inflicted on man. I should have dodged some of those blows, at least to keep him from being crippled for life. That just wasn't my intention last night, I only wanted to stop them from tearing apart the store.

"No," The officer shook his head to my utter surprise. "The man and two others, as far as we can tell, from eye-witnesses, they were trying to stop some black mask guy from," He stopped amazing for a second, then turned and pointed his head at the broken up entrance of the store. "Well, doing that"

"That sounds brave," I told him, which the most dishonest sentence I had said to him besides my name is Pat Doyle. "Is it possible to learn the names of these brave men"

"Well, only one had ID," He revealed, tipping his hat off his head as that helped him remember the name that I was waiting to hear. "His name, Jim O'Reilly"

(The Hell's Dine and Eat, The Next Day)

"Are you ready to order?" A charming young waitress asked a man who sat on a table for two.

"Not yet, Miss," She was told politely. The man was in his mid-twenties to his early thirties, he wore a cheap grey suit, with a pair of stylish round red sunglasses. At his side was a white walking stick. These signaled to people that this man was blind. "I'm just waiting for a friend before ordering"

"Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"Just a glass of water," The man said, his soft voice like jazz. "If that's no trouble?'

"No trouble at all, sir," The young lady left to retrieve the pitcher and glass for him.

"Hey, Matt," A newcomer spoke. He was a man with a suit of similar quality to Matt's but with long fair hair.

"Morning Foggy," Matt smiled at his longtime friend. Foggy, Foggy Nelson that was, he had met Matt years ago during college studying law, Matt had convinced his friend to open up their Law Firm together. But Foggy's longtime friend was unknown to him, the vigilante the people call The Black Mask.

"Listen to this," Foggy asked his friend as he sat down in the chair that was in front of his friend. He looked down at a newspaper, coughed once in an attempt to dramatize his voice and said.

"Hero, Father of One, Jim O'Reilly is hospitalized when saving elder's store from the Terror of Hell's Kitchen"

"What! But that is impossible," Matt nearly yelled, it was the first time that Foggy had ever heard his friend even raise his voice.

"I know," Foggy shook his head, misinterpreting his friend's shock and attempting to placate him with a nice tone. "You'd think that nutjobs don't come in enough flavors already," He put his hands together.

"This is bad," Matt said aloud, this news hitting harder than he expected. "Something has done about this," There was a tone to Matt's voice that his friend was unfamiliar with.

"Don't worry Matt, I'm sure that the police will get this lunatic soon"

The theme of this chapter is surprise!

No action in this one, but I wanted to set up certain events for the future. I was otherwise struggling to find any action put in, so I just went with what flowed naturally and this what came out. So that meant mine that the timescale might confuse some but this is just as the law firm is just about to open in a few weeks, Matt and Foggy just have finalized the bank details.

I kind of want a better title for that news articles.

Will there be an Alliance?

Or will they destroy each other?

How will the DareDevil and our not-yet-an-Blueman eventual meeting fare?

How soon will it take for Matt to find him?

Will that Waitress ever take their order?

And Other Important questions like did you notice that cameo/reference

Please follow and review, I like to hear people's opnions afterall.