SpideyDevil

Just Professional Coffee

-

Peter shook his head and laughed. "Trust me, I totally get it. I'm also in college right now and my dissertation is an absolute beast to get through." He fell into step with Matt, making sure to be considerate of the pace he was going at so he wasn't too fast nor too slow.

At Matt's praise, he chuckled and bashfully lowered his head, running a hand through his chestnut hair. He had been complimented several times before on his friendliness as it was part of the whole superhero gig. His admirers had even taken to dubbing him 'The Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman'. But there was something about the soft inflections, bordering almost wonder, in Matt's tone that surprisingly got to him deeper than usual outside of his red suit.

He shrugged his shoulders and wringed his hands around the camera's straps resting over his shoulders. "I guess we're a rare breed." He smiled.

They walked past fragrant flower shops with luscious lavenders in the window, old antique stores with ancient cuckoo clocks ticking away, an arcade with rebellious teenagers playing hooky from school, and a large truck parked outside an apartment building as a happy family shuffled their cherished items to their new home. Such simple, every day images struck the young superhero profoundly. They served as reminders as to how people could be so oblivious to the nightmares that roamed their waking lives and it was his job to try to shield them from it. Because if he couldn't have that happy normalcy for himself then he'd do his very best for those who did.

His forehead crinkled, puzzled by Matt's story on what he'd seen at the station. It was indeed hard to believe this was just a series of unfortunate coincidences. "Yeah, this situation is strange all over. You'd think this sort of thing would be in the news as soon as the report came in, but it hadn't even been touched... that is until I came in to the office this morning and found a note sitting at the bottom of a pile." He huffed a sigh. "At first I thought it was neglect: a simple problem of human error or cruel uncaring. But now... I think you're on to something. It isn't a question of if it's being kept quiet but by who?"

Peter lifted his head up to glance over at his taller companion. Matt Murdock made a striking figure - not because of his blindness- but there was something attractive in the manner he confidently carried himself.

"We're almost there. In a few feet it'll be on our right."

He slowed his pace down as they approached the little coffee shop and lightly placed a hand on the top of Matt's back, his fingers just barely brushing the space between his shoulder blades. Stepping to the side, he opened the door for him and made sure to stay close as they sat at a quiet table situated off to the side by the large window overlooking the street.

-

Dissertation? He tilted his head towards Peter but neglected to ask further on it, pocketing the question for the moment. Though he couldn't help but be fiercely curious what a journalist would be getting a higher degree in, he thought better of diverting their professional conversation in favor of asking about the man's personal life.

Instead he kept their steady pace and tried to focus on the much more important matter at hand.

"Rare breed." He repeated under his breath with an amused smile.

But it quickly slipped away when the more serious topic of their tangential case arose, in its place a more stoic pursed lip.

"She said her husband was wrapped up in the drug trade....but she didn't know what and said she left him about three months ago after saving up enough of her own money for a few months at an apartment. "

He paused for a pensive moment as Peter noted that they were close to their destination and put a pin in any more talk until they were settled.

But every thought of the case vanished when Peter's hand fell between his shoulders.