"Is that German?" Matt asks, resigned.
"Yep," Clint says, crouched on a roof beside him.
Unfortunately, it's not just Clint. The rest of the Avengers are scattered around the area surrounding a building that is currently home to an up and coming gang, or so Matt had thought before he'd had superpowered company.
Just his luck that they've decided to make their base in Hell's Kitchen.
"I should've known," he mutters. Clint shifts, probably trying to find a better crouching position. They've been here awhile. (Matt is reluctantly impressed. He didn't think some of the others had the restraint.) "We have the Russians, and we have the Irish. Should've known Germans wouldn't be normal." He frowns, listening more intently in hopes of something he does understand while Clint spies through his rifle scope. "Who are they again?"
"You ever heard of HYDRA?" Clint asks.
"No."
"Terrorist organization."
Matt sighs. So definitely not just a random gang. "And why have they decided Hell's Kitchen is the best place to set up base?"
"Oh, this is only one of their many bases," Clint says nonchalantly. "We've been knocking them out one by one. Dunno why Hell's Kitchen specifically, though. Maybe they thought you guys were boring and needed a bit of action."
"I can shove you off this building right now," Matt hisses.
"You wouldn't," Clint says brightly.
"Try me."
"Birdbrain, you realize we can hear you, right?" Tony Stark asks from a few alleys over. Matt can hear his voice coming from the man himself, and also from the five other comm units in the area. This annoys him to no end.
"I did realize that, believe it or not," Clint says.
"Didn't sound like it to me," Bruce Banner mutters, standing directly in front of the base and probably preparing to be the destructive distraction. Matt is really not looking forward to the green guy who comes with him.
"Ask Daredevil if he wants a comm unit too," Steve Rogers commands from the basement of a building on the other side of the HYDRA base.
Matt leans towards Clint. "Don't need one," he says quickly.
"...Did he hear that?" Stark asks.
"Enhanced hearing," Romanoff observes. Matt must begrudgingly admit that he doesn't know exactly what building she is in, just the general area. Really not his best work.
"I didn't tell her anything," Clint says before Matt can even open his mouth.
"The ground down there is starting to look like a great place for you to nap," Matt tells him.
They both know he doesn't mean it. Matt has a feeling the Widow knows, too.
"Are we ready to conquer our enemies and tear down our foes one by one or not?" Thor asks.
Right. Matt had almost forgotten about the literal alien in their midst.
This is apparently his life now.
Rogers seems to straighten up, determination running through his veins. "Ready in five, four, three..."
A loud roar disrupts the quiet of the night.
"Someone tell Hulk he's early," Stark says, his suit blanketing his voice in an odd way. "Definitely not me."
"No one ever taught him how to count," Romanoff points out in defense of Hulk, running towards the building with weapons in hand.
Matt takes the time to pinch the bridge of his nose before literally leaping into the fray, Clint swinging over to the building alongside him.
He's probably going to end this fight with a headache.
"I think we worked great together," Stark says brightly after the fight. They are all breathing heavily in front of the now destroyed base.
Minimal destruction of infrastructure. Some loss of life, but no way was Matt going to fight all six of them on that. This is technically their fight, after all.
So, it did go mostly smoothly. Not that Matt's going to admit it.
"Mission success," Thor says way too enthusiastically.
Matt internally groans. He wants five cups of coffee. Now. Or, at least, pure caffeine. He needs to be at work in two hours.
Clint gives him a fist bump, which Matt reluctantly and tiredly returns. "Well, I better be off now," he says tightly. Hopefully, he'll be able to shower and ice his ankle for at least a bit before getting to the office.
He turns away, but is prepared to stop when he hears Romanoff jog over to him. She grabs his shoulder and pulls him back a bit, going on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, "Better get that foot checked out."
Damn. Matt thought he had been hiding it well.
He turns to face her and murmurs, "Bet I can still kick your ass."
"That you accepting my offer?" Romanoff murmurs back with an amused tint to her voice. Matt would like to think she's smirking.
"This Friday," Matt concedes. "You'll know where to meet." And then he's off.
When he's a few buildings away, he hears Stark say, "What the hell was that?" He doesn't sound angry, more like horrified. Matt takes great offense at that.
"Someone seems happy," Rogers teases.
"And you guys complained about me earlier," Clint says.
Romanoff says nothing, but her heart does beat a faster rhythm.
For some reason, Matt focuses on it before the sound inevitably fades away.
Matt yawns for probably the 20th time. "Long night?" Foggy asks from the doorway, sounding amused.
Not worried, this time. That's an improvement.
"Hopefully not a bad night," Karen says. She walks over and places a hand on Foggy's shoulder.
"Long night," is the only thing Matt confirms with a nod and a smile.
"I can imagine," Foggy says dryly. He walks towards Matt and slams a newspaper down onto the desk in front of him.
Matt frowns, brows furrowing. Karen follows closely behind Foggy and snorts. "You know Matt can't read that," she says.
"That was for dramatic effect," Foggy tells them, and then clears his throat. "'The Avengers and Daredevil Team Up in Hell's Kitchen'. They really couldn't have picked a more boring headline."
"And yet, it's still an attention catcher."
Matt groans, finally moving to rest his forehead against the desk with a thunk. "It wasn't my idea," he says. It was actually no one's idea, but things happened.
"There there," Karen says, patting Matt on the back consolingly and probably also mockingly.
On the other hand, Foggy asks, "C'mon, you didn't want to tell me you met Captain America?"
"They're so annoying," Matt says, voice a little muffled. He doesn't tell Foggy that this isn't the first time they've met. "I'm a mysterious vigilante, not some superhero."
"I mean..."
Matt groans. "Please don't make fun of my suit again."
"I wasn't going to." But his heart beats a lie. "You really do have superpowers, though!"
Matt sighs. He straightens up again and has to concede the point.
"Black Widow and Hawkeye don't have powers, do they?" Karen wonders.
Matt shakes his head. "Don't think so," he says. "Maybe that's why I get along more with them."
"Wait, you've told me about hanging out with Hawkeye, not Black Widow," Foggy says.
"...A new development. I invited her to spar in a few days."
He can feel Foggy's eyebrow raise. "Dude, how do you always know?"
"Know what?" Karen asks.
Matt can feel his face turning red. "No, no. It's really not like that."
"Like what?" Karen demands.
"Matt can always tell when a beautiful woman is around," Foggy complains, because it's his sole job in life to torment Matt. "I still don't know how he does it, 'cause I don't think it's a hearing thing. It's really spooky."
"It's really not like that," Matt protests again. "This is just an opportunity for both of us to improve our skills." Also, an opportunity for him to figure her out more (unfortunately, that works both ways).
Karen muffles her laugh with a hand. "That's an interesting superpower you have there," she says. "Am I considered to be in this category?"
"Of course," Matt says promptly. Despite all claims to the contrary, he does not have a death wish.
Later that evening, he sits in his apartment and frowns. People are talking outside, conversations overlapping in a maelstrom of noise. But inside, it is almost completely quiet.
It really isn't like that, is it?
Is it?
He has enough self-awareness to know he's not ready for that kinda thing. It would only go badly for all parties involved.
This is all your fault, he texts Clint. Everything had started with him.
Clint texts back a long series of question marks that Matt's phone has trouble reading through, which he definitely did on purpose, so yeah. Fuck him.
On Friday night, the Widow enters Hell's Kitchen. Matt makes sure she spots him before he goes over to Fogwell's Gym, a lot more obvious and less in the shadows than how he normally travels as Daredevil.
"Why this place?" she asks once she catches up to him at the back entrance.
He shrugs. "I know the owner." He hopes it doesn't reveal too much about him.
They both step inside. Matt walks right past the light switch before stepping back to turn on all of the lights. Smooth, Murdock, he thinks.
But no one really suspects the blind guy, do they?
Romanoff walks around the place, examining it closely. For what exactly, Matt isn't sure. He steps into the center ring and turns back towards her, resting his forearms against the ropes and pretending to see her.
(Pretending to see her in the normal way, at least. He's been acutely aware of her presence ever since they met.)
Once she's done, she walks over to him and enters the ring as well. "You're wearing your old suit today," she observes. "Think I won't beat you?"
Matt smirks. "I think nothing of the sort," he says honestly. "But this is a friendly spar. I don't expect to actually be hurt."
"We're friends?"
Matt frowns. "I- uh, it's just called a—" Fuck it. He's so screwed.
But Romanoff just laughs, voice low and smooth. "Don't worry. I'm just playing with you," she says, amused. "You're not as mysterious as people seem to think you are."
"Pretty sure the only people who think that are the people I beat up."
"Hopefully that won't include me tonight."
Matt shakes his head with a little laugh. "We'll see, Romanoff."
"Natasha," she says, suddenly.
Matt swallows. "Natasha," he concedes eventually, even though it feels like she's given him a part of herself that he can't reciprocate.
And then, without warning, they start.
Sparring with her is nothing like sparring with Clint (and nothing like sparring with Elektra). It's incredible. Usually, he can predict when and how a person will strike by the tension in their muscles, but he can't quite get a read on Natasha, and maybe she can't quite get a read on him, either, 'cause they seem to be on equal footing, here in the dark and musty boxing gym he practically grew up in.
Whenever he gets a hit in, she retaliates. Whenever she gets a hit in, he retaliates. Matt's never been fond of dancing, but he thinks this is what it's like, to dance with a partner. It's like they know each other well, or at least each other's fighting styles, even though Matt hasn't been able to observe Natasha fight much, and he knows footage of Daredevil fighting is few and far between.
But this balance can't last forever.
The location has naturally caused Matt to revert to a little bit of boxing, so he's not quite as agile as he usually is in a more open space, and agility is definitely something Natasha has no trouble with. He tries to trip her up, but she manages to effortlessly flip him over, and then she pins him right then and there, legs around his hips, hands on his shoulders.
He really doesn't have the core strength right now to get out of that.
And, surprisingly, he laughs, despite the predicament, despite the memories he's actively pushing away, though they definitely hadn't bothered him during the spar, the heat of the fight.
She huffs out a laugh, too. He can feel her breath on his face, and then she's up on her feet and offering a hand out to him.
Her heart rate is quick and flighty, and he's blaming that on the fight.
"Not bad," she says as she pulls him to his feet.
"Not bad yourself," he says back, pressing a hand to his side where she'd managed to elbow him earlier. This pain is nothing, though. Really. Nothing compared to—
He actively pushes that thought away. Now is not the greatest time to dive into trauma.
"You box?" she asks curiously, gesturing to the boxing bag hanging a few feet away from them.
"Yeah," he says easily. She probably saw it in his fighting style, too. He's surprised to realize he recognizes something like ballet in hers, the swiftness and gracefulness of it.
"Where'd you train?"
"Now, you gotta let me keep some secrets," he says enigmatically. "Where'd you train?"
"Not somewhere you've heard of," she answers vaguely, and then she lets out a short breath through her nose, seeming to realize she's played into his harmless trap.
"Exactly."
She scoffs. "Shut up. Bet you give Clint a run for his money during your spars."
It's a blatant deflection, and they both know it. "Most of the time," he says anyways. He smiles. "A bit too obvious with his moves."
"To most people, he's not that obvious," she says, shifting her weight onto one of her feet and crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Matt raises an eyebrow, though the effect is probably lost on her with the mask. "I'm not most people," he says simply.
Her heartbeat jumps a little when she murmurs, "No, you're not."
Matt really doesn't know how to interpret that.
Matt: Black Widow's heart rate keeps speeding up when she's around me
Matt:
Matt: She must be really mad at me