new case

The apartment was a mess. Their apartment was a mess. Even with two blown light bulbs, she could still see that. Concrete dust on everything, documents all around the boxes that were on top – luckily the Braille printer survived; when Vera walked into the kitchen space, she could see that Matt's kettle (and she could call it Matt's, okay, she wasn't using it) for the coffeemaker wasn't so lucky. Laptops were intact, so there was an upside. Otherwise it was all glass and ceramic shreds, spices and culinary herbs all over the floor. She was sure it must have been quite pleasant for Matt's sensitive nose… not.

And hey, the candy seemed to survive too. She had to look at it from the bright side, right? She had just lived through an earthquake; if she was ever reliving, it might not be so scary. Except Vera was frankly sure she would be scared shitless just the same.

She put on some music, because otherwise she would go crazy from hearing the sirens (and from the imaginations of what Matt was doing out there, the intrusive noise only reminding her) and got to work.

It took her about a half an hour to realize she should have called her friends if they were okay.

Terri was. She had been with alone at her apartment, because Vic had been at work already, but apparently she had spoken to him and he was alright as well and on his way to her. Nina had been home with her husband, both okay. Trish was apparently alright too. Vera didn't know who else to call. She tried Claire, but she wasn't picking up – Vera tried to comfort herself with the idea of the nurse being in the hospital on duty and busy. Vera knew Danny was out of country, so she didn't even try. She didn't bother with Brett Mahoney either – firstly, he was a cop so he was probably out there, and secondly, he was a big boy and probably had bunch of better friends to check up on him.

Foggy called Vera before she could call him – they were both okay, Karen and him, though Karen was already out there, a reporter working on a story. Vera just hummed in sympathy at that, noting that Matt was obviously out too; Foggy apparently figured as much, but he didn't seem to appreciate the reminder, now worrying about two people instead of one.

The cleaning had no end. It was mostly small works, but there were so many. Vera already started a list of things she would need to replace, starting with the light bulbs – to her shock, Matt did have two spare ones, but it was probably a good idea to stock them again. When she finally quit vacuum cleaning as well, it was almost midnight; she sent a quiet apology to their neighbours for being so loud at the hour, but no one had come to complain about it, so she guessed it was fine.

When showering, she missed a text from Matt. She found it later and it took her a while to translate the 'Im nkax. Lotr oe worj.', mainly because she forgot how an actual phone keyboard looked like, but she really appreciated the effort, especially since he obviously texted her in hurry.

She nestled on the couch around half past one, hoping she would either wake up at his arrival or he would do it for her.

Matt did it for her.

She woke up startled by a touch on her shoulder, immediately snapping her eyes open, jerking up to a sitting position.

"Matt?"

His face was blurry in the light of the billboard, but she was pretty sure it wasn't soaking with blood. He had had the decency to take of his mask; if she had been woken up by the Devil, she might as well get a heart attack. He stopped her when she reached for her glasses on the coffee table.

"It's okay, you can move to bed."

Vera ran her hand down her face, yawning. She squinted at him even without the glasses, but in the dark and with him having the armour on, she really couldn't tell much.

"You're hurt?"

"I'm okay," he assured her, caressing her hair. "Nothing that needs your attention."

"That's not convincing."

She reached for her glasses once, but he caught her hand again, kissing her knuckles.

"Go to bed, Vera. I'll join you in a minute, okay?"

"I'll be counting down," she murmured, which made him laugh tiredly. She crawled to the bedroom, falling asleep the second her head hit the pillow.

She woke up when her personal heater joined her, covering them both. She muttered an approximation of 'love you', before she returned to the land of dreams. If Matt replied, she didn't hear.

Vera walked to work only to find out that the pipeline was damaged by the earthquake. Again. She spent there about an hour, helping to clean up with, until Mrs. Walker sent all girls home.

Vera wanted to stop by at Fogwell's, but it was too early. So she took the walk slowly, finally noticing all the damage around. It was insane. There were few people already working their asses off, possibly volunteering with no expectation of getting anything in return.

When Mr. Fogwell found her waiting outside of the gym, he gave her a grateful smile. It turned out her help wasn't really needed – sure she wiped the floors and the ring, dusted off everything else, but everything seemed to be mostly in place. And unlike at their apartment, there were no cracks in the walls.

For a good measure, she stopped in a church – there were tons of people, but she glimpsed Father Lantom there and he seemed healthy enough, so she just waved at him and disappeared. He had his hands full.

She couldn't neglect a store, buying what she had memorized from the list; a thing like a coffee pot for Matt's elixir of life was impossible to forget. She arrived home just before eleven.

The moment she shoved her keys to the lock, she could hear Matt's hurried pace.

"Hey, Matt."

He seemed awestruck and honestly worried, the baffled look completed by his messy hair, hoodie and comfy sweatpants stuffed in his fluffy socks. He was adorable. Domestic, her mind supplied helpfully.

"Hey. You're early. Everything alright?"

"Yeah. You?"

He took the bags from her hands, giving her a quick kiss on her lips. Vera smiled unwittingly.

"I'm okay. Last night was a little crazy, but... yeah. Thanks for the clean-up, it must have taken forever."

Vera used the opportunity to shine as she followed him to the kitchen. "Well, it's my apartment too."

Matt gave her a bright smile, placing the bags on the floor in the kitchen, kissing her properly before embracing her. "Nice one. How are you so early?"

"Pipeline at MDDC. Fogwell's was mostly alright. Not sure about the church, it was really crowded, but Father Lantom seemed okay too, just too busy."

He tensed. "You went to church."

"Well, it's not like Father Lantom is on my speed dial. I wanted to check up on him."

That earned her a kiss on the top of her head. "Thank you. Looks like you've been busy."

"Just wait for it. I brought you something."

Matt's curiosity caused him to release her from his embrace quite voluntarily. Vera ceremonially shoved the pot in his hands. His smile illuminated the room.

"I love you."

"I know."

Matt leaned backwards, resting against the couch, massaging the bridge of his nose. Vera stopped the water, wiping her hands dry.

He had been sighing the whole time through reading this particular file and Vera had tried her best not to disturb him when washing the dishes. Now, he looked like he needed some kind of distraction.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, making her way to him.

His hand immediately fell to his side and he turned her face to her, poorly hidden worries in it.

"Yeah. Sure."

She raised her eyebrow, putting her hands on his shoulders; he was tense as if he carried the weight of the whole world on them. Well… what else was new. She didn't say anything, lightly squeezing, kissing the top of his head. His shoulders slumped and he kissed one of her hands, before turning his head forward so he could make her job easier.

"It's… it's the case file Foggy passed me yesterday. I don't—I'm not sure how to feel about it," he admitted sheepishly, relaxing a little bit more while she massaged his scarily tensed muscles. "The client, she killed a man."

Vera froze, her hands stopping their work.

"Why would Foggy give you a case file of a woman who killed someone? Was it an accident?" she asked after a while, forcing her fingers to continue.

"Oh, it definitely wasn't. She snapped his neck."

"Jesus."

"But that's not the case, she's not facing any charges for that."

"How could she-"

"Hogarth has been protecting her and the guy murdered several people, so technically, it was self-defence," he explained. "She's not just a client, she's more like a… freelancer, helping Hogarth with other cases. But she's a troublemaker. She's a private investigator."

Vera frowned, getting slightly irritated. Righteously so; the whole thing sounded like this Hogarth didn't want to be associated with her 'freelancer' anymore, because it stopped being convinient, so she passed her 'problem' to Foggy. Who passed it to Matt, naturally. Wonderful.

"And she's enhanced."

Vera's heart jumped at that.

"Enhanced?" she breathed, her mind racing. Enhanced. PI. Troublemaker. Killed a guy. That sounded too familiar.

"She apparently has accelerated healing and extreme strength," Matt exclaimed, sounding slightly doubtful, oblivious to Vera's reaction. But then again, who wouldn't react like her? When hearing about an enhanced individual who had killed someone, even in self-defence? Matt couldn't possibly know Vera had a different reason to be taken aback.

"Jessica," she murmured. There was no denying it. Matt had gotten his hands on Jessica Jones' file. Trish's friend. Laser eyes.

Matt turned to her sharply, face screaming pure shock. Vera's hands fell from his shoulders, resting on the backrest of the couch.

"You know who this woman is?!" he asked incredulously, his eyes comically wide.

Vera licked her lips, still processing.

"Well… yeah. And so do you," she informed him matter-of-factly and his expression turned brilliantly baffled. "You were there when she saved me."

"When she-"

Matt jumped to his feet, circling the couch so he could face her properly.

"Well, technically, you were there after. She's the one who fought off Stick." The name of Matt's ninja master burned on her tongue. She knew that guy was possibly dead and she should only say good things about the dead, but Jesus, that guy was a dick.

Matt dully stared at her shoulder. Apparently, he was having a moment of recognition.

"In the alley. When he tried to-" Matt didn't finish the statement, gulping and Vera carefully took his hand, noticing his face had paled and twisted in a strange grimace, probably at the memory. Vera wasn't exactly fond of it either.

When he didn't quite react to her touch, she brought her other hand to his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. His arm wrapped around her tentatively, before his grip tightened, his nose nuzzled to the crook of her neck, breathing in.

"She's still getting coffee in MDDC. Small world, huh?" she whispered, kissing the side of his neck.

He just hummed in response, so she snuggled closer to him. He seemed exhausted. The yesterday earthquake left him with no time for sleeping properly and now the case file, bringing back unpleasant memories. He really deserved and needed a hug.

Vera didn't know how long they stood like this, an octopus of bodies and limbs tangled together tightly. She felt his furiously hammering heart slowing down, his breathing getting calmer.

"I take it you'll take her case?"

"Well, I do owe her a lot. Getting her out of trouble in the future is the least I can do."

"I would appreciate that. She's Trish's friend too, you know."

He tensed. "Trish Walker's friend?" he asked for a good measure and Vera just nodded.

"Small world, remember?"

Vera was honestly shocked when she was getting up the next day and Matt, who usually stayed down after she tried to sooth him he could still sleep, groaned, pushing up on the bed right after she had. She shot him a puzzled look.

"You're okay?"

Matt sighed. "I am. It's your friend. Or, well, Trish's friend. She's got arrested last night. I need to take care of that."

The sentence woke up Vera more effectively than her alarm. "Jessica?"

Matt just nodded, obviously exhausted.

"Jesus. Did you even get any sleep? What time did you arrive?" she worried, imagining Matt had gotten about two hours of sleep, if even. She didn't even remember when he climbed to the bed beside her, it had had to be really late; things were still rather crazy after the earthquake.

Matt frowned at her, apparently not fond of her interrogation at the early hour. "I'm fine."

Vera rolled her eyes at his response and headed to the kitchen. She put the kettle on, automatically starting Matt's coffeemaker as well, assuming he wouldn't function without his caffeine fuel.

She was fumbling around for cups and tea bag when his arms wrapped around her from behind. Apart from giving her a heart attack, he pressed his lips to the side of her neck, placing a sleepy kiss. She smiled, relaxing onto his body, covering his hands with hers.

"Morning," she whispered, feeling his lips spreading into a smile against her skin.

"Morning, love."

Huh-uh. With this behaviour, she might even let the terrible 'I'm fine' line that he kept using with everyone to get rid of them slide. He kissed another spot, higher. Yep, definitely on his way to forgiveness.

"You want coffee, right?"

He hummed in agreement, one of his hands slipping under her pyjama tee.

"Thank you. I wouldn't mind some breakfast with that coffee."

Vera bit her lip as his hand travelled higher and higher. His suggestion actually sounded agreeable. Goddammit, why didn't she get up earlier? Right, because getting up at 4:30 should be illegal, let alone trying it earlier.

She spun in his arms, considering her options. Seeing how sleepy he was despite his suggestions, she made a small noise of sympathy, kissing his nose.

"Matt, you look like you could use your coffee brewed with Red Bull instead of water." She almost added 'you poor thing', but she knew better than that.

He frowned, stealing a chaste kiss from her lips. And then one more.

"I think I'll pass. There are other things that can keep me up," he whispered to her mouth lightly, pressing her against the counter and it took Vera few seconds to understand that terrible innuendo.

She chuckled. "That was terrible, Matt."

On the other hand, the rest of what you're doing…. His fingers actually brushed her nipple this time. God, she was going to be late if she said yes.

"Was it? So I guess that the arousal I can feel radiating from you comes from the idea of drinking tea?"

He nibbled at her lower lip, one hand under her shorts on her bottom and the other making its way to her other breast. Goddammit shit. Yes, she was going to be late, so what.

Vera did arrive to the café late. But she was grinning like an idiot, she had to give him that.

Matt walked into the Harlem precinct, tiredness in his bones, but with a smile on his face. Despite the alarming lack of sleep, the morning was more than bearable. He felt a little bad for making Vera be late for work, but she didn't seem to mind that much, possibly thinking it was worth it. So for few moments, Matt even thought today might be a good day.

While talking to the leading detective, the feeling was slowly resolving. The man might say Jessica Jones could walk free, but there was something on the case that wasn't right. And it wasn't just the fact that an architect had died in a PI's apartment after being shot – by himself.

Matt's ears picked up on the conversation taking place behind the closed door of an interrogation room and it was getting weirder and weirder. It wasn't helping that Ms. Jones apparently knew things she didn't want to share.

Matt had a bad feeling about this.

He thanked to the detective in a hurry, urging him to let him speak to his client. He wasn't sure if for the sake of his client or the detective, because Jessica Jones just broke a little and warned the other woman about walking into some serious shit.

"Jessica Jones, stop talking," he demanded the moment the door opened, sensing both women snapping their heads to him, their hearts skipping a beat.

Matt immediately recognized which belonged to Ms. Jones. The smell of whiskey and blood, connecting with the voice he heard earlier, it was like being in the alleyway with Vera after Stick all over again. Also, she was handcuffed to the table, so that was a huge hint.

"I'm sorry, who do you think you are?" the detective asked, rising from her chair. She was not happy about the interruption.

Matt tried to maintain his confident look, perfectly polite and assertive. "I'm Matthew Murdock, Ms. Jones' attorney."

"Shit just got real…" Jones muttered under her breath, almost shaking Matt's confidence. What was that supposed to mean?

"Well, Mr. Murdock, I'm in the middle of something right now-"

"Ms. Jones is not obligated to answer any of your questions without consulting her lawyer first. I'd like to have a moment with my client, detective…?"

"Knight," the woman introduced herself sharply and Matt allowed himself to smile with just a little bit of irony.

"Would you be so kind to leave us alone, detective Knight?"

The detective gritted her teeth, obviously irritated, but uncuffed the PI, grabbed her files she had dramatically tossed at the table earlier and left the room. Matt cleared his throat, approaching the table.

"Ms. Jones, like I said. My name is-"

"I know who you are. Trish wouldn't shut up about the engagement for days."

Yeah, okay, that did throw him off a little. But he would not fucking blush, they had work to do. He cleared his throat again. She beat him to speaking.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Murdock?"

"A friend referred me. Franklin Nelson. He works for-"

"Jeri Hogarth. Shocker," she noted wryly and Matt somehow got a feeling that this case was about to get even harder than he had thought. "Well, I didn't ask for anything, so I'm not paying you."

So much harder.

"You won't have to."

"Oh, because she'll foot the bill?"

"Yeah. And I'm a catholic; I have a soft spot for hopeless cases."

The moment the sentence left his mouth, two thoughts hit him at once. First, maybe he had underestimated the lack of sleep. And second, maybe he should have had some actual breakfast to provide his brain some sugar.

By the time Matt she walked free and he heard her speaking with Malcolm – who was the other witness, Matt presumed – he was confident this really was some 'weird-ass shit' as the PI had referred to it earlier, despite the fact she had denied anything strange about the case when Matt had asked her.

While still in his daily suit, he followed her. He listened to her conversation with the widow, hearing Jones' heart pick up speed after the widow opened the main door for her parents. Jones left in sure and rapid pace, giving Matt an impression of a person who was on someone's scent; it felt like a duty to follow her once again.

Focusing on the whiskey odour (and Matt realized it felt familiar, too familiar, because he had sensed it before, not only when he had met woman, but also when he had opened Vera's fridge after returning from Cambodia; and wasn't that just perfect) was next to impossible, but relying only on the sound of Jones' footsteps was a mistake as well. Matt had lost her on the crowded streets, too much noise covering the clacking of her boots on the pavement. He gritted his teeth, taking a sharp turn into an alley, hoping he would get a better overview.

It was a fool's hope. He answered Vera's text at least; she was asking how it had gone and if he was alright. Matt allowed himself a sweet moment of the feeling being cared for before focusing again.

By some miracle, he actually found the sound he was looking for, hearing the PI talk jovially with another architect. He didn't pick up everything, but he continued following her out of everyone's sight as long as it was faster. A minute after he got back down on the streets, the PI entered a tall office building. Matt had no idea why, what was so special about it, but he walked in right after her, using another entrance.

Jones was looking around and Matt grabbed her arm, tugging her along before she could find whatever she was looking for.

"Murdock!" she cried out, more surprised than anything else.

"We need to leave, now."

He could come back later. In the darkness of the night, providing at least a little protection; his suit would do the rest. And she wouldn't be here to distract him.

"You grab me like that again, I'll punch you so hard you'll see," she stated, annoyed but completely serious.

Matt considered her words. He had no experience with being on the receiving end of punches delivered by enhanced fighters, but if her strength could be at least partially compared to Danny's when he used his Iron Fist, she might not be wrong.

"Look, there's something really messed up about the case you took-"

"Yeah, I noticed, thanks. Why are you following me?"

Matt tried very hard not to wince at that, because how the fuck did she know he had been following her?

'Because you just followed her into this building, you dumbass,' Stick's voice supplied helpfully and Matt bit his tongue before he could shut him up out loud. How the hell should he answer? By not answering at all, perhaps?

"You're in a serious danger-"

"You are the most full of shit lawyer I've ever met and I think we should stop to appreciate the magnitude of that statement," she snarked, putting an emphasis on the word 'lawyer' as if she was questioning he was one.

Matt was getting on edge; he was never good at leading someone on and this woman, she wasn't easy to lie to. The only option was to get out of here under the pretence of further investigation and buy himself some time to figure out a way of dealing with this. Whatever this was.

"Let's talk about it somewhere else –"

"Let's talk about it never," she offered instead, not buying any of his shit. "Unless you wanna tell me how a blind man moves the way you do."

Matt froze, certain his heart just stopped. The way she had said 'lawyer' earlier. Now implying he could do something he shouldn't be able to do. What the— keep it together, she's just trying to catch you off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"I have pictures, asshole."

The insult was honestly the last thing Matt cared about. Her pulse didn't even falter; she was telling the truth.

He panicked for a second before doing the only thing that made sense; he grabbed her camera and smashed it against the wall.

Her cursing got lost in the sound that always set all alarm bells in Matt's head off.

Gunshot. A gun with a silencer, tens of stories above them.

"What are you doing?" the PI demanded, confused, possibly questioning his sanity.

"Gunshot," he informed her dryly. And why did he do that again?

"Where?!"

"Penthouse."

She kept talking but once again, there was something more interesting catching his attention; Danny's voice.

Gunshot and Danny's voice.

Well, fuck.

"I need that."

Later, Matt spent few seconds being grateful for Danny not giving up Matt's name between the reunion of Jessica Jones with a huge man smelling of burned gunpowder that she seemed to be familiar with.

The relief lasted very shortly. What had started as a good day, gradually changing into a bad day, changed into one fucked up nightmare.

Hint: it wasn't just because he was thrown through a glass booth or broke a bookshelf with his back.