TWIN DEMONS by Georgia Kennedy
Author's Notes
Park's is a reference to Rosa Parks, the great civil rights pioneer who passed away on October 24, 2005.
The Japanese busker's ditty is the theme song from the "'67 Series," the first televised Spider-Man cartoon. The series ran from 1967 to 1970. Spider-Man, Music by Bob Harris, Lyrics by Paul Francis Webster, © 1967 by Bhudda Music, Inc., All rights reserved.
The idea to use the street musician was inspired by Betty Brant's Excuses, Excuses. Thank you, Betty.
Disclaimer
This is a derivative work of fiction featuring characters copyrighted and trademarked by Marvel Characters, Inc. It is based upon: Spider-Man, copyright 2002 by Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc., all rights reserved; Spider-Man 2, copyright 2004 by Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc., all rights reserved; Daredevil - Director's Cut, copyright 2004 by Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, Inc., all rights reserved; and Hulk, copyright 2003 by Universal Studios, all rights reserved. The author is not connected with nor is this work authorized by Marvel Characters, Inc., or any of the aforementioned motion picture studios. This work is intended solely for posting on Fanfiction, for the benefit and enjoyment of its intended audience. No commercial or financial benefit accrues or is intended to accrue to the author as a result of said posting. Any unauthorized copying or redistribution of this work might subject the party responsible for such unauthorized copying or redistribution to legal action by the owners of the aforementioned copyrights and trademarks.
XVI
TWO SECRETS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE
"On the contrary, Aunt Augusta, I've now realized for the first time in my life, the vital Importance of Being Earnest!" the Jack Worthing character proudly proclaimed in the play's closing line. For the second night in a row, the packed house went wild as the curtain fell, rising to their feet and bursting into sustained applause, the loudest and longest for the red-haired actress playing Cecily Cardew.
As they had done after the previous evening's performance, Mary Jane's fellow cast-members stopped by the dressing room she and Louise shared to congratulate her. Even the perpetually frantic Robin Kelly gave M.J. a thumbs up, something he rarely did. "Keep it up and we'll go on forever!" he gushed.
"Thanks guys," Mary Jane said modestly, feeling embarrassed over all the praise that was being lavished upon her, yet thrilled at her dream finally coming true. She was still at the beginning of her professional journey and knew that there was lots of room for improvement. They were right about one thing though. In the six months or so that she had been doing this show, she had never come to life like she had during these last two performances. From the moment she took the stage at the beginning of Act II, she radiated charm and charisma. It was truly as if the protective outer veneer she'd been wearing all her life had been stripped away, revealing her soul to the public for the very first time. If they only knew, she mused as she reflected on the reason for her stunning success since returning to the production.
It was pouring rain outside, so the autograph seekers who normally congregated near the stage door outside were crowding into the Lyric's small but ornate lobby. Like most beginning actresses, Mary Jane gladly accepted the chore of signing playbills. No sooner had she plunged into the task when she heard a familiar voice call out, "Mary Jane! Over here!" M.J. looked up and smiled when she spotted Liz Allen, her old chum from Midtown High, waving at her. Liz had slimmed down considerably since high school. She had long since lost the braces and had traded in those awful eyeglasses for contact lenses that accentuated her bright blue eyes. And her hair, once as wiry as a brillo pad, was now neatly coiffed.
Mary Jane was delighted that her old friend could make it out to see her in her moment of triumph. She continued to sign every playbill shoved at her even as she slowly edged her way over to where Liz was standing. While on stage, she had noticed that Liz was sitting in one of the front-row center seats normally occupied by the theater's owners. During the scene in which Cecily scolds Algernon about the hypocrisy of leading a double life, M.J. had cast a quick glance in Liz's direction, subtly acknowledging her presence.
Although Liz had brought Flash Thompson to the wedding, he was not with her this evening. In his stead was a beaming, dark-haired, portly man who appeared to be considerably older, probably in his mid thirties. He reminded Mary Jane somewhat of a great big teddy bear. Standing slightly behind them was another couple, a pretty blonde with a shapely figure and an extraordinarily handsome blind gentleman wearing very dark sunglasses and carrying a silver and red cane. Mary Jane couldn't help but notice the odd-looking emblems on its handle: an angel's face on one side and a devil's face on the other.
"Wow!" Liz greeted M.J. breathlessly, "That was some show. You got star written all over you."
"From your mouth to God's ear," laughed Mary Jane as they hugged, "Or at least an agent's."
"You're in luck, M.J." Liz said as she turned toward the man she was with. "This is Fra . . ." But before Liz could finish her introduction, the big teddy bear who was with her eagerly thrust his hand toward Mary Jane.
"Hi. Franklin Nelson," the teddy bear said enthusiastically. "That was one helluva show you guys put on!"
"Mary Jane Watson," M.J. replied with a handshake and a bright smile that belied her feeling of being a bit overwhelmed in the presence of Liz's extroverted gentleman friend. "Glad you liked it."
"My partner, Matt Murdock," Foggy said, nodding in the blind man's direction.
"Nice to meet you, Matt Murdock," Mary Jane responded pleasantly, thinking that this man could give her former fiancé a run for his money in the looks department.
"The pleasure is mine, Miss Watson," Matt responded with a polite smoothness as he extended his hand toward her, knowing right away who she was.
"And this gorgeous lady is Karen Page, our secretary." Foggy broke in, gesturing toward the perky blonde.
"Office manager, thank you very much," Karen corrected good-naturedly as she shook Mary Jane's hand. "That was a really wonderful show. You were great."
"That's really nice of you to say, Karen," Mary Jane replied as she continued to bask in the glow of her accomplishment. Turning back to Liz, she asked, "have you guys known each other long?"
"Franklin and I met at a salsa dance club two weeks ago," Liz explained. "He and Matt are lawyers. We're celebrating a big immigration case they won the other day."
"Then, you and Flash aren't dating?"
"Oh no," laughed Liz. "We never were. We've been friends since graduation. I asked him to be my escort to your wedding before I met Franklin."
Well, that certainly clears up that mystery, Mary Jane thought. "So, how did you get tickets on such short notice?" she asked, knowing that performances had been booking up at least a month in advance.
"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing," Liz answered cheerfully, "One of Franklin's clients owns this theater. He gave us his seats for free, to pay his bills, you know."
"Bobby was short on cash, like most of our clients," Foggy bantered. "We're probably the only attorneys in town who still barter."
"Don't knock it," Matt gently retorted. "We were treated to a very fine performance this evening, which I think was worth twice what we charged him." Suddenly, he detected a mild flutter in Mary Jane's heartbeat, a subtle reaction that, to him, signaled recognition.
"Have we met before, Mr. Murdock?" Mary Jane queried, a little perplexed.
"I don't believe so," he responded in a measured voice, not wanting to let on about the circumstances of their previous encounter. "Why do you ask?"
Mary Jane shook her head, trying to jar her memory. "Your voice sounds very familiar. Are you one of those legal experts on T.V.?"
"Well, I was interviewed on Twenty-Twenty a few years ago," Matt responded, wondering if she had any inkling of the truth. "Barbara Walters was doing a feature on disabled lawyers. Perhaps you caught it?"
"I must've missed that one," Mary Jane said with a puzzled frown. Who is this guy? she asked herself. There was something so familiar about the man, but for the life of her, she couldn't pinpoint it. Desiring to keep the conversation going in the hopes of triggering her recollection, she inquired, "What kind of law do you practice?"
"I chase ambulances," Matt replied with a modest smile.
Mary Jane giggled mellifluously at Matt's humorous exaggeration of a common stereotype associated with lawyers. She mentally drew a caricature of a blind lawyer running after an ambulance, holding a briefcase in one hand and shaking his other fist in an in impotent rage. She answered his one-liner with one of her own. "Ever caught one?" she asked with a cheeky smile.
"Still trying," he said lightly. "Seriously, though, most of what we do involves corporate malfeasance and criminal defense. Basically, we try protect the rights of the little guys, people who normally can't help themselves."
"Do you go to court a lot?" M.J. asked.
"All the time."
M.J. was amazed. "It must be hard," she said sympathetically.
"What?"
"Having to argue in court when you're bli . . .er . . . visually challenged."
Matt smiled again, putting M.J. at ease with his easy-going manner. "Blind is not a four-letter word, Miss Watson. It's okay to say it. And actually, the hardest thing for me was learning braille. Everything else came fairly easily." Matt paused briefly, and then added. "When I'm in court, I sometimes think of myself as being on stage."
"I can relate to that," Mary Jane responded with her own smile. "I hope you were able to enjoy the show."
"I did, very much." Matt was touched that Mary Jane had thought to comment, and answered her implicit question. "I experienced it like one of those old-time radio shows." Of course, Mary Jane had no way of knowing that he was able to "see" the play as well as hear it. For him, the performers were shadows dancing in and out of a luminescent blue fog.
Liz, Foggy, and Karen, meanwhile, were talking animatedly amongst themselves. Suddenly, the proverbial bulb lit up inside Liz's head. "You know, M.J., after what happened last Saturday, you just might need an attorney."
"My God, that's right! Foggy exclaimed. Without thinking, he asked Mary Jane point blank, "You're the one who jilted Jonah Jameson's kid, aren't you?"
Several faces in the now-smaller crowd turned to stare at Mary Jane, who faltered for a moment as a wave of embarrassment washed over her. She saw Matt Murdock wince and lower his head into his free hand, looking a bit like a father whose child had just made a foolish spectacle of himself.
"Franklin!" Liz scolded testily, dismayed at her date's mildly annoying habit of saying whatever popped into his mind without thinking.
"Oh, man!" Foggy gasped, his face turning red as he realized the spot he had unwittingly put M.J. on. "I'm sorry, Mary Jane. I didn't mean to . . ."
Mary Jane shrugged her slender shoulders and gave Foggy a wry smile. "It's all right," she said, deftly handling the situation. "It's not much of a secret anymore, and it's probably helping ticket sales." Unlike Liz, M.J. was finding Foggy's awkwardness to be rather endearing. It reminded her a little of Peter. "Do you have a card?" she asked Foggy, hoping to reduce his anxiety a few notches.
The socially challenged attorney fumbled through his wallet, fished out his card, and handed it to Mary Jane, who took it automatically. "Listen," he said, regaining his confidence, "if Jameson gives you any trouble, call us right away. We nailed the Bugle for libel, twice."
Notwithstanding Foggy's gaffe, Mary Jane was very pleased with his generous offer of legal help. Her former beau had once told her that his father had lost only two lawsuits, but had to pay seven figures in damages on both occasions. These guys must have been the plaintiffs' attorneys, she realized with dawning respect, knowing that they had to be good if they could beat Jonah Jameson even once, let alone twice. Putting Foggy's card in her purse, M.J. said in a muted voice, "I'm hoping it won't come to that, but if it does, I'll be sure to get in touch with you guys."
Matt had been quietly observing Mary Jane the whole time, mainly out of curiosity. Her quick wit, her innate concern for others, and her lack of pretense impressed him, especially when she so graciously spared Foggy the usually embarrassing consequences of his slip-ups. No wonder Peter is so in love with her, he thought, wishing he could have asked her to stand in the rain, so that he could see the face that went with that charming and engaging personality.
Louise, meanwhile had wandered over to join Mary Jane, now that the number of autograph hounds had dwindled. Mary Jane flashed her a welcoming smile.
"Liz, you remember Louise Wood, my maid of honor, don't you?" Mary Jane asked.
"Of course," Liz said as she introduced Louise to Foggy, Matt, and Karen. "You and Mary Jane were just incredible." she gushed.
"Aww, that's so sweet," Louise said, grateful for her co-star's impeccable sense of timing and skillfully placed cues.
Foggy, ever the networker, asked the two actresses,"Do either of you have an agent?"
They both shook their heads. Foggy immediately handed them each a business card belonging to a Jonathan Caesar. "This guy's a client, and a good friend," Foggy told them. "He's well connected and he has a great nose for talent, which you both have in spades. Give him a call and be sure to mention my name. I know for a fact he's got a few openings; I'm sure he'll be happy to take you on."
"Cool," Louise said, speaking for both of them. "Thanks very much Mr. Nelson." Turning back to Mary Jane, she said, "I've got to call a cab. I'm meeting an old college friend at Park's Jazz and Karaoke Club later tonight, a screenwriter from L.A. He just got into town and wants to catch up."
"Hey, that's where we're going," Liz said excitedly. "Do you want to ride with us?"
"Sure." Louise quickly counted heads. "Will there be enough room for everyone?"
"I won't be going," Matt Murdock replied with a subdued abruptness.
"Why not?" Foggy protested, "I thought we were supposed to be taking the night off."
"It's getting late and I've still got work to do. The Korlon deposition, remember?"
"You're incorrigible, Matt," Foggy groaned, shaking his head as he flipped open his cell phone to call a cab. Suddenly, he caught sight of an elderly couple passing by. The man was carrying a copy of the New York Times, but was not reading it. What captured Foggy's attention so quickly were the words Spider-Man, and Daredevil in the headline. "Excuse me," he said to the man, interrupting his conversation, "can I borrow that for a moment?"
"You can have it," the gentleman replied, tossing him the paper.
"You keep asking me for proof about Daredevil, Matt." Foggy said triumphantly to his partner, as if he had finally won a long-running contest. "Well, here it is." He opened the paper and started reading. "Hundreds of eyewitnesses, including no less than five NYPD officers, observed Daredevil and Spider-Man as they approached six different subway stations in the space of an hour . . . So there." Liz, Louise, and Mary Jane all noticed the I told you so quality in his tone.
"Why do you keep bringing that up?" Matt asked, sounding irritated. "Stop reading tabloids and get a life."
"The New York Times is not exactly a tabloid, Matt." Foggy retorted. "It's been all over the news. The networks, CNN, they all reported it."
"I'm glad to hear it. Did anybody get a picture?"
"Well, . . . I'm sure somebody squeezed off a few shots. But . . ."
"But nothing," Matt patronizingly lectured his partner, "Until you come up with an authenticated photo, you haven't proven anything. So please, stop bothering me with that crap, all right?"
"What's the difference, Matt?" Foggy shot back. "You can't see pictures anyway."
Mary Jane had been observing this odd exchange closely, wondering if it was a continuation of some longstanding argument between the partners. Of course, she knew that Foggy was right, having seen Daredevil with her own eyes. It struck her as strange that a savvy attorney like Matt Murdock could be so close-minded. She wondered if Daredevil was a secret client of his and he didn't want his partner to know. Yeah, that makes sense, she thought. And then the wheels started turning. Maybe he'd be willing to take Peter on too, she hoped. Spider-Man could use a good lawyer.
"M.J.," Louise asked, breaking into Mary Jane's silent fascination with the enigmatic Matt Murdock. "Got any plans for this evening?"
"Uh, No." Mary Jane replied. "My lease runs out at the end of next week. I have to get up early tomorrow morning to start looking for a new place. "
"They won't give you an extension?" Louise asked, concerned.
Mary Jane shook her head. "Nope," she said casually. "They've already leased the apartment to somebody else. But that's okay. I'd kind of like to change my scenery around a little bit."
Although she did not appear outwardly to be concerned about her living situation, in reality, she was quite anxious about it. Until four days ago, she and John had been set to move into Bedford Towers, a luxury condominium complex on the Upper West Side in which his father was a major investor. Now, she was faced with the prospect of having to find a new place on extremely short notice, which was very difficult in Manhattan, even when the market favored renters. Her first choice of course, was to move in with Peter, even if it meant living in that germ-infested hovel until they found their own place. It would only be temporary, she reassured herself, confident that they would find a better roof over their heads in less than a month.
M.J. was hoping to broach the subject with Peter as soon as they were together again. After she had gotten Peter's voice mail, she left her own message with that landlord's daughter asking Peter to meet her under the Lyric Theater's marquee around eleven o'clock on Wednesday night. He would be finished with his exams by then. She just hoped that what's-her-face had delivered the message. She would have told Louise to stick around, except that she wasn't sure whether Peter would show up on time, or if he would show up at all. Most people would have great difficulty dealing with that kind of uncertainty. But for Mary Jane, it was already becoming par for the course, the price of admission to Peter's world.
On the other hand, M.J. realized that Peter might be reluctant to let her move in with him right away. She knew that Aunt May was an old-fashioned Catholic who held very conservative views about pre-marital cohabitation. She would probably tell them to get married first. If that were the case, then M.J. would have no choice but to move back with her mother in Queens until the wedding could be arranged. And who knew how long that would take.
"Taxi's here," Foggy called out, interrupting Mary Jane's train of thought as a cab came rolling to a stop in front of the Lyric's entrance. "Sure you don't want to come along, Matt?"
"Positive," Matt responded firmly. "I've already arranged for a taxi to pick me up. I'll see you at the office, first thing tomorrow morning."
"See you, M.J." Louise said heartily as she gave Mary Jane a quick hug.
"Have a good time, okay?" Mary Jane replied. Louise nodded excitedly as she and the others made a dash for the taxi, trying to avoid getting drenched.
Mary Jane watched them go. The rain was coming down harder than ever and the crowd had already dispersed, leaving the lobby empty except for her and Waldo, the usher to whom Peter had referred in his clumsy voice-mail message. Looking back on that day, M.J. was sure that Peter had been telling the truth. Waldo was known for refusing to admit patrons once the show got under way. He had done it more than once. Now, he was busy tidying up the concessions counter.
M.J. sat down on a plush, old-fashioned bench in front of the coatroom, thinking that three days apart from Peter was already too long. She missed him terribly and was deeply concerned about his well-being. And she wanted to get married as fast as possible.
As she waited for Peter, her gaze fell upon a copy of the Daily Bugle sticking out of a nearby trash can. Although the paper had been torn and trampled upon, its repulsive headline was still quite legible: SPIDER-MAN IMPLICATED IN CHILD'S DEATH. She grabbed the paper, her emerald eyes blazing with anger as she read an article claiming that Spider-Man had caused the roof of a burning row house in Harlem to collapse, killing a toddler. That fucking bastard! Mary Jane raged silently. How DARE he! M.J. had always been mad at the way the Bugle maligned Spider-Man, but now that she and Peter were lovers, she took it personally. If J. Jonah Jameson were standing in front of her, she would have punched his lights out. Furious, she crumpled the paper up and hurled it to the floor.
"Ahem," came a stern voice from behind the concession stand. Startled, M.J. looked up to see Waldo glaring at her. "Miss Watson," the pompous usher said haughtily, "your talent as an actress does not give you license to litter. Please dispose of that properly."
"Sorry," M.J. grumbled. She bent down to pick up the ruined newspaper, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was gone. She found herself instead looking at a pair of trousered legs and a silver and red cane.
"I'll take care of that for you," Matt Murdock said as he stuffed what was left of the tabloid back into the garbage can, where it belonged.
"Mr. Murdock?" Mary Jane asked, wondering how he managed to appear out of nowhere. "I thought you'd left already."
"I needed to use the men's room." He hesitated for the briefest moment. "May I sit down?"
"Yes, of course."
Matt took his place on the bench, sitting as close to the opposite side as he could. Over the years he had become highly sensitized to issues regarding personal space, and had always kept a respectful distance from women who were spoken for. "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation about having to move," he said, sensing her anxiety about that subject.
"I think I may have cut it too close." she responded cautiously. "My lease is almost up and I haven't even started looking around for a new place yet."
"You may want to take a look at Hell's Kitchen," Matt suggested. "There are plenty of rentals available, nice places at reasonable prices."
"But that neighborhood's so violent," Mary Jane protested.
"It used to be, but not any more." Matt reassured her. "Thanks to extensive urban renewal, the Kitchen is now one the safest neighborhoods in New York City, if not the safest. It's close to the heart of the Theater District. Lots of actors live there. Young professionals, too. It's a vibrant, thriving community, but not too many outsiders know this because it can't shake its past reputation." He could tell from Mary Jane's physiological responses that she was getting sold on the idea.
"I'll talk to my boyfriend about it and see what he says," Mary Jane replied, "Thanks for the tip."
"You're welcome." he said, even as he sensed a twinge of worry again emanating from M.J.
Mary Jane suddenly felt very concerned that Franklin Nelson might have inadvertently given his partner wrong idea about her because of the fallout from the aborted wedding. She wanted to clear the air right away. "Mr. Murdock," she said a little nervously, "I hope you don't think I'm some sort of flake, the way I walked out on my wedding and all. I'm not in the habit of hurting men that I care about."
Matt smiled, already knowing the reasons behind Mary Jane's actions. "I wasn't thinking that at all, Miss Watson," he responded kindly. "You're obviously in love with somebody else. The unfortunate timing aside, I think you did the right thing. Besides," he said wryly, "I can't think of too many people courageous enough to incur the wrath of J. Jonah Jameson in such a public fashion."
M.J. smiled at the compliment. "Actually, it would've taken more courage to go through with that wedding and be stuck with Mr. Jameson as my father-in-law." Matt was able to discern a tiny, barely perceptible note of contempt in her voice. "Think you can give a starving actress a little bit of free legal advice?" she inquired half-jokingly.
"I'll try. But just remember, the quality of a lawyer's advice varies directly with his fee."
Matt's second lawyer joke that evening once again elicited Mary Jane's musical giggle. But she got right to the point, not wanting to waste the precious few minutes of the attorney's time. "Can Mr. Jameson sue me?" she asked, plainly worried about repercussions.
"Sure," Matt replied matter-of-factly. "But the real question is whether he would win. And the answer to that is no. You see, a promise to marry is not like most other contracts. The law recognizes that people can and do back out, often at the last minute. I'm sure that Mr. Jameson's attorneys have already advised him on this."
Mary Jane breathed a sigh of relief. She appreciated the way Matt Murdock made her feel comfortable, and felt reassured that she could rely on Matt and his partner if Jameson ever made trouble for her. She also felt safe talking to him about something else that was on her mind. "Um . . . Mr. Murdock," she began, somewhat tentatively. "I think you should know that your partner is right."
"He's right about a lot of things, Miss Watson. Is there anything in particular?"
"Yes." M.J. did not beat around the bush. She knew that Foggy was on the mark about Daredevil and felt that Matt had come down a little bit too hard on him. Lowering her voice to make sure that Waldo would not overhear her, she whispered. "Daredevil."
Matt's eyebrows went up behind his glasses. "Really?" he asked neutrally. "You saw him?"
"Yes."
"When was that?"
Mary Jane knew she was on the spot just by the way that Matt Murdock asked the question. He was, after all, a battle-hardened courtroom lawyer who could go through a witness like a knife through butter. She could not tell him that she was with Spider-Man when she saw Daredevil. She would have to come up with a really good story and hope that her acting abilities were up to the challenge.
"I went up to the Winter Garden for an audition a few weeks ago," M.J. said, as calmly and straight-faced as she could. "It was late when I got finished, so I decided to save some money and take the subway home. Just before I got to the station, I saw him, standing on a ledge, four stories up."
M.J's fluttering heartbeat clued Matt in that she was lying. But he knew that her lie was about the particular circumstances of the encounter, not the encounter itself. He briefly considered cross-examining Mary Jane, but quickly nixed the idea. As seasoned a litigator as he was, he could never rattle witnesses who were telling the truth. She's not only strong, but incredibly savvy as well, he thought, admiring how quickly she was able to think on her feet in coming up with her fib about the circumstances of her encounter with Daredevil. But he was not really that surprised. After all, this woman was Spider-Man's girlfriend, and had to have been quite adept at deflecting unwanted inquiries. Mary Jane's good character and sound judgment, along with a desire not to put Peter in the awkward position of having to keep any more secrets from his soon-to-be wife, convinced Matt Murdock to take a leap of faith and trust her with his identity.
"You're quite an astute observer, Miss Watson," he said to M.J. quietly.
Mary Jane knew exactly what Matt was referring to. "Then . . . you do know about Daredevil?" she inquired.
"Yes," he said gently. "And as you can see, I'm not the bad guy."
A look of confusion came over Mary Jane's face, followed by comprehension. A tiny gasp escaped from her lips as her heartbeat spiked and her eyes widened. Picking up on her reaction, Matt admitted, "I sensed you and Peter behind the billboard last Saturday night."
"It . . . can't . . . be," M.J. stammered, feeling as if she had just seen an elephant dance on the head of a pin. But he had to be the one. How else could Matt have known about her and Peter? It suddenly dawned on her that Peter must know him as well. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to believe it. "Impossible . . ." she murmured softly.
"Like a man having spider powers is impossible?"
Matt had a point there. But there were differences. Big differences. "You're . . . blind." Mary Jane asserted, keeping her voice down. "The guy I saw took out four punks in less than a minute. How can you possibly fight like that?"
"It's a very long and complicated story, Miss Watson. Suffice to say that when the Lord taketh away, he giveth back in greater measure."
"Call me Mary Jane, please," M.J. replied, her doubts slowly ebbing. "And I'm sorry I lied to you just now. I feel like such an idiot."
"It was a good effort on your part," Matt complimented her. "If I wasn't actually there, and I didn't have the ability to detect a person's heartbeat, I would have probably believed you. You're a very fine actress."
Mary Jane was about to ask Matt about how he could hear heartbeats when she suddenly saw him tilt his head slightly toward the windows. "Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned, but not alarmed.
"I'm listening to a cell phone conversation between Mr. J. Jonah Jameson and an individual named Eddie Brock," Matt explained. "Do you know him?"
"He's a reporter for the Daily Bugle, I think." Although M.J. had never met Brock in person, she was well aware of his reputation, courtesy of her ex. John had mentioned him frequently as his father's heir apparent at the Bugle. He once joked that he and Brock had been switched at birth.
"This person appears to have stationed himself in that alley across the street, near the entrance," Matt continued.
"How do you know that?" Mary Jane asked in wonderment.
"The accident that took away my eyesight enhanced my other senses." Matt explained. "I hear and smell far beyond the range of normal human frequencies. I also see by a kind of three-sixty radar."
M.J.'s bewilderment gave way to realization. "Is that how you spotted Peter and me behind that billboard?"
"Exactly." He held up his hand as he cocked his head, pointing his ear towards the entrance to the alley.
"What's happening?" Mary Jane asked nervously.
"Brock reported that he is observing you inside the lobby of the Lyric Theater in the company of . . .'some blind dude.'" Mary Jane watched him grimace with displeasure. "But he can't see too well because of the rain."
"I knew this was going to happen," Mary Jane hissed, her anger growing at the Bugle's blatant invasion of her privacy. "My almost father-in-law may be a scumbag, but he's no dummy. He must have found out about Peter and me by now. It's only a matter of time before he puts the puzzle together and figures out who Peter is."
Matt was detecting fear in Mary Jane's voice as well as anger. "You needn't worry," he reassured her. "My partner may not be well schooled in the social graces, but he's a real pit bull when it comes to putting a case together. We've won quite a few battles for our clients over the years, and as you know, we were successful in two libel actions against the Daily Bugle. Besides, Peter and I talked about this. I've given him a few suggestions which I'm sure he'll share with you. The bottom line is that you won't have a problem with Mr. Jameson once everything falls into line."
Emboldened by Matt's confident assurances, Mary Jane smiled sarcastically and waved in the direction of the alley, mouthing the words, "Hi Eddie."
Her move had the desired effect. "I think you startled him," Matt reported. "He's telling Mr. Jameson, 'damn, how in hell did she see me?'"
"What's Jameson saying?"
"He's yelling, 'don't stand in the middle of the street you idiot!' Now Brock's insisting that there was no way you should have been able to spot him."
Mary Jane laughed softly. How she would have loved to see the shocked look on that Eddie Brock's face.
"I think that he's retreating," Matt informed her, sitting back with a sigh. "He just closed his cell phone and is walking away."
"Good riddance," Mary Jane snapped.
"You've got sass, lady," Matt told her admiringly. Her spunk reminded him of his first encounter with Elektra. She too was spunky and tough, but in a much different way than Mary Jane.
"I need it for survival," M.J. said in a steady voice. "Oh, and by the way, Matt, in case no one else said it, thanks for everything you guys did the other day. You and Peter were fabulous, the way you broke up that terrorist operation."
"Peter is a very brave soul," Matt said with heartfelt sincerity. "And he loves you very, very much. You were all he thought about while we were dismantling those bombs."
Mary Jane felt the familiar prick of tears gathering behind her eyes. As good as it was when Peter told her that he loved her, it felt just as wonderful hearing it from someone else, especially someone whom Peter held in high esteem. She gazed into Matt Murdock's dark glasses, looking for a window to his soul that she could open up. "It can't be easy," she whispered empathetically.
"What?"
"Being able to sense everything the way you do. It must be overwhelming."
"You are remarkably perceptive, Mary Jane," Matt answered, very much taken by this lovely young lady's kind and gentle manner. He was surprised at how comfortable he felt confiding in her. "I can't go into bars or crowded places at all. It's murder on my ears."
"So that's why you didn't go with the others," M.J. responded. Her curiosity piqued, she asked, "how do you get any sleep?"
"I use a sensory deprivation tank."
"What's that?"
"It's kind of like a stainless steel bathtub with a lid on it," he explained. "It's the only technology available that completely shuts off all outside stimuli. You fill the tub with water, lie down, shut the lid, and go to sleep."
"But couldn't you drown?"
"No. I put epsom salts in the water to keep me buoyant."
"Wow, that's amazing," Mary Jane said, a little awed. "I've never heard of anything like that." As she talked with Matt Murdock, she was beginning to get the idea that he was a long-time resident of the twilight world that Peter inhabited, a world that shut its denizens off from the rest of humanity. "Pete's been so lonely his whole life, and being Spider-Man made it worse in many ways," she said, choosing her words carefully, so as not to appear too presumptuous. "It's the same for you, isn't it?"
"It's not easy, Mary Jane," Matt sighed, thinking of all the people he'd walled himself off from over the years. There was Foggy, who, despite his numerous foibles, was always there for him. There was Heather, who only demanded what she had the right to expect after three months of steady dating, nothing more. And then there was Elektra, the only woman he ever cared about enough to let into his inner sanctum, only to see her taken from him in such a brutal and uncompromising fashion.
"It took Peter and me a long time to break through the walls that were separating us," M.J. continued softly. "I almost married a man I didn't love because Peter kept pushing me away. He thought he was protecting me . . . because he loves me , but all he did was break my heart, again and again." She kept her contemplative gaze fixed on him, grateful that she could finally deal with that issue without crying. "Tell me something, Matt," she said. "Are you close to Franklin?"
"He's like a brother," Matt affirmed as he reflected on their long history together. Perceiving Mary Jane's interest and sincerity, he added, "Do you know that Foggy once spent over three thousand dollars to get me a seeing eye dog that I didn't even ask for?"
Mary Jane was amused at Matt's nickname for his partner. At the same time, she was moved by the depth of Foggy's sacrifice, and was convinced that Matt was making a mistake in shutting out such a close friend.
"You call him Foggy?" she asked with a slight chuckle.
"It sort of fits, doesn't it?"
"I suppose so" she conceded reluctantly. "But you know Matt, there aren't too many people who would give so much of themselves for another person. Maybe you should think about letting him in. It might take away some of the loneliness."
"I understand what you're saying, Mary Jane," Matt responded. "I don't know how many times I've thought about telling him, but it's mainly for his own safety that I've never done it. As you can well imagine, I've got more enemies than I can count. These are people who wouldn't hesitate to kill him just to get to me."
"Take it from someone who's been there, Matt," M.J. said with a conviction that threw the battle-tested vigilante off stride. "It's better to tell him the truth and let him decide for himself what he wants to do about it."
Matt did not have a ready answer for her. In a sense, he realized, she was right. Foggy was a grown man, and a highly intelligent one at that. He had shown his loyalty over and over without ever asking for anything in return. But Matt again thought of Elektra, his true love. If she was still alive, and she loved him as much as she had professed, then why hadn't she kept her promise and returned? Could it be that she was unable to accept that he was Daredevil? What if Foggy reacted the same way? "I'll take it under advisement," was all Matt could say. Sensing the lateness of the hour, he flipped open his watch and felt for the position of its hands against the braille numbers. "I have to go," he said to Mary Jane.
"You're not really going back to work, are you?" M.J. asked knowingly.
"I am," he said softly, "I'll be taking over for Peter on the night shift. We sort of have an informal arrangement, kind of like tag-teaming."
"Do you want me to help you get a cab?" she asked, feeling tremendously relieved that Peter now had someone who could help lighten his burdens.
"I called ahead for one," Matt informed her as they stepped outside. "But thank you anyway." The Lyric's small marquee barely provided any shelter from the unrelenting downpour. Fortunately, a yellow cab had just arrived.
Mary Jane offered Matt her hand. He gently took it without missing a beat. "Thanks for being there to watch Peter's back." she said with genuine warmth in her voice. " It's nice to know he has someone that he can look up to, kind of like a big brother."
Matt acknowledged Mary Jane's praise with a smile and a brief nod as he quickly made his way toward the waiting taxi. She watched Matt climb into the cab and ride off, feeling extremely privileged to be the only person in the Big Apple who knew the secret identities of both of New York's resident super-heroes.
She was about to go back inside when someone else joined her under the marquee. It was a Japanese street musician that she had often seen near the theater. Seeking shelter from the rain, the busker parked herself right in front of Mary Jane's rave notice. Seeing that she had an audience, she pulled her out-of-tune violin from its case and started playing the ditty that was making her a local celebrity.
"Spider-Mon, Spider-Mon, Does whatever a Spider con . . ." True, the lady was a terrible singer, but all the same, M.J. hung onto every off-key note. It was a song about the man she loved, and for all she cared, Jimmy Durante could have been singing it.
"Miss Watson," Waldo called from the door that he was holding open. "I'm locking up soon. Would you like me to call you a cab?"
"No thank you," Mary Jane responded, "I'm waiting for someone. He'll be here in a few minutes." . . . I hope . . .
"That would be fine Miss Watson," Waldo said kindly. He might have been a stickler, but he was somewhat protective of the performers who graced his stage. "Please let me know if you change your mind."
"Okay," she replied over her shoulder. It was unseasonably cold outside and the rain still wasn't letting up. She decided she would ask Waldo to call a cab for her in five minutes if Peter didn't show.
The busker continued playing her song. " . . . Is he strong? Listen bud. He's got radioactive blood . . ."
Not quite, thought Mary Jane, but at least it sounds cool. Between the torrential rain and that awful music, she never heard the sound of wet footsteps emerging from the cold dark night and coming up behind her.
"Hey, M.J.," said the voice that Mary Jane wanted to hear more than anything else in the world.
She whirled around and wrapped her rain-soaked lover in a tight bear hug, nuzzling her cheek next to his. "I'm . . . so . . . proud of you, Tiger," she wept softly, her magnificent emerald eyes brimming with tears of joy at their long-awaited reunion.
"I love you, Maria Giovanna," he whispered as his lips made their way toward hers, "L'amo cosí."