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WHO: Kate Bishop and OPEN!
WHERE: Numerous locations.
WHEN: April 9th - April 12th
WHAT: Numerous activities. Also, if you want brackets instead of prose, just go for it!
WARNINGS: Mild alcohol usage in one option. Allusions to rape (in thread with Tony).

option a: studying (mornings and afternoons)

The large purple bag that Kate has begun to carry around weighs her down even now. Her shoulder slumps slightly as she leans back into the wooden chair of the coffee shop, the end of her pen caught between her lips as her eyes gloss over.

There are two reasons for why she is here. The first is the stack of books in front of her. Some of them are about law procedures, some are about jurisdiction, and others are simply about Florida and sightseeing activities. There are a few odds and ends here and there: books on Russia, books on nuclear bombs, but not all of them are in front of them. Some are haphazardly sticking out of her bag.

The second is less obvious. Hidden beneath the stack of books and underneath her hand is a small yellow notepad where she's taking notes of certain behaviors, certain things that people do throughout the day. It feels weird, but she thinks of the guy in the cat food aisle, and the various ways that he was able to pick up on things. He was just the guy in the cat food aisle, but he seemed to know people. If she's going to be good, if she's going to help Matt Murdock, she needs to be good. She needs to be like Jessica. (Or a Jessica, but she's specifically thinking of Jessica Jones.)

Every now and then, she draws her pen from her mouth to make a note. Bagel with cream cheese, skinny latte. Or: Definitely gave a fake name because he's paranoid, wears suspenders. But she doesn't seem very committed to the activity, and when she's done, she gives an exaggerated sigh and mutters something about this taking forever.

After all, for all her superheroics, Kate hasn't had this much homework in a while.

option b: the later happy hour (evenings, between ten and midnight)

Having done an extensive bit of homework—which means she's paid special attention to the sandwich signs outside of bars when walking around—she's chosen a choice location that's quiet and makes it easy to set up a conversation with anyone who comes in to join her. Of course, Kate doesn't expect company, not here, but she goes to these bars and orders a martini (with none of the top shelf stuff—she's learning to train herself to like things that are cheaper), and makes sure that she savors every sip.

These evenings are no different from her daytime activities, but there are no notes, no notepads, and it's apparent that she wants to network. The people who might enter a quiet establishment are the ones, she assumes, who might be willing to chat. Kate wants to know.

But more than that, she wants to relax.

A smaller bar like this reminds her of the one she visited with Tommy once. Kate remembers that night vividly: the dancing, the closeness, the fact that even the biggest dive bars in New York City would fill up on a weekday evening. And it seemed that they really didn't bother to card, which was to both her and Tommy's benefit. She remembers his self-assured kiss and pushing him away because they had more important things to do. That's one of the parts of the night she's trying not to relive, but it was a simpler time. Cassie was alive. Eli still lived in New York City. Kate reveled in being a hero in a different way, without all the self-imposed self-awareness that's grown in the years that have followed.

Being here doesn't mean she has to exhibit all of that, and she revels in the atmosphere and the occasional conversations. When someone walks in and sits near her on the bar, she leans over, flashes a smile, and says, "Try the martinis. They're top notch."

option c: superheroics (nights)

Kate Bishop is a liar. Nights like this make it obvious. If it's not the quiver that gives it away, it's the purple full-body suit and purple sunglasses that might clue someone in.

It's not that she means to be, but she wants to give the government the impression that she intends to go somewhat straight with her private detective career path. If she gives them the idea that this is how she intends to spend her time, she might have less of a chance of being caught. It's not that Kate reminds being called a vigilante, but those letters appearing on her wrist as a result of her announcement were a sign. They were not a wakeup call. They only told her what she thought she already knew: the government couldn't be trusted. The brands, the misleading information, and the everything in-between—they were all signs of this.

But that doesn't mean that she's going to stop. On the contrary, she intends to try to be sneakier, and she has experience with this. Kate would never say the Civil War between heroes was a bright spot in her life, but she does know how to fly under the radar.

At least here, there aren't any SHIELD agents looking for them. There isn't anyone who's going to swing in and stop her from helping.

And she intends to help—from a distance. A part of her misses the feeling of her fist crushing into someone's jaw, but she knows (she definitely knows) an arrow can go a long way. So she does that, hoping to stop anyone from mugging a hapless victim without the guy in question knowing where the arrow came from. Thus far, it's been pretty efficient.

But when she hears footsteps near her on the pavement, her shoulders tense up even more, and she doesn't let go of her draw. "Who's there?" She can multi-task, after all.

option d: anything goes!

If none of the above fits, go for whatever you'd like.

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It's not long before the illusion of the young, dark-haired woman that joins her falls completely. It's conveniently after some initial greetings and some small talk, and Loki find sit in good humor to wave his hand dismissively when he reveals himself.

"Martinis really aren't my thing." But he does put a finger in it, and the put that finger in his mouth. He looks thoughtful, averting his eyes up to the ceiling. "That's house vodka, isn't it?"

There's some curiosity in it, but it's just an observation.

Usually there were more people in his scene. It was a bit louder and both extremely difficult and rather simple to eavesdrop, all depending on if you knew where to be and what time to be there. He's well aware of the affect alcohol has on people, and it's not exactly something that he'd have qualms against exploiting. Kate, however ... well, that was a little bit different. Different in a way that was uncomfortable enough to usually avoid her, but find himself in warm (UNCOMFORTABLE) company when he did.

Sometimes it was business, sometimes it wasn't.

Sometimes it turned into business.

Sometimes he felt like he had a friend.

He had actually watched a couple of her shots so far, and really, they had been pretty spot on for the most part. He had planned on doing a little vigilante justice himself tonight, but whatever crime there was, she got to it before he did. She definitely had some talent to be relatively new at all this. Well new compared to some of the vets anyway.

When he makes himself known, he walks out from a dark alleyway in his full Panther gear. Though obvious it's much different from his original outfit. No Vibranium, a bullet proof vest, no claws, etc. Still looks like a panther though. "Evening." He says in a totally calm voice. As if he hadn't been kinda sort of stalking her all vigilante like for half the night "'Hawkeye' is what you usually prefer to go by, correct?"

The look Kate gives Loki is not kind when the illusion drops. Whereas a kinder woman had been there before, Kate immediately starts traversing backward in her mind over the various details of the conversation. The pieces of information that Loki dropped were likely incidental, so what she processes now is how little any of it mattered. She grants him a roll of her eyes and takes a sip of her drink. "It has its charm," she tells him, but what she really means is "I'm getting used to it." Loki knows as well as anyone from their world that she's not someone who drinks the cheap stuff.

But he saw her bottle of wine. She knows that he's been made aware of the adjustments she's made. Of course, now that she has a job lined up, things might change.

They could change, anyway.

"This doesn't look like your scene, Loki. Are you practicing for future espionage?" The question itself is supposed to be put lightly, but she's still annoyed he tricked her.

The appearance that he has does catch her attention, but before she handles the conversation that is about to take place, she lets the arrow loose in the direction it was already headed in before she heard his approach. When it makes its mark easily enough, she lowers her bow, standing up and turning toward him. Kate takes in every aspect of him at this point, and she wonders if she's lucky. After all, it's him who found her, rather than someone else.

The last thing that Kate wants is to be a criminal because of her activities, even if the inevitably left behind arrows are enough of a sign. But evidence isn't visual confirmation, is it?

"'Hawkeye' is correct," she affirms with an easy smile. "When we're out here, anyway." It's a codename, and even if her secret identity isn't much of a secret—and hadn't been for a while—she still upholds certain parts of the routine.

"Though us Hawkeyes usually don't do stealth this much, components of our set up aside," she adds. Both Clint and Kate have a tendency to rush in, after all, and close range arrows still meet their mark, don't they? (And cause a lot of blood loss.) "Maybe I should pick up something temporary."

SHIELD agents there may not be, but SHEILD Directors were another story. He hadn't been intending to walk the streets of Heropa, dressed in a fine suit instead of his metal on he often took with him. Instead, that was floating high above, somewhere, powered by sensors and responses and impulses in his brain, the things that often led him to see and hear more than he normally did. The things that allowed Tony Stark to keep an eye on things, even if people didn't necessarily want him to.

Which was why he knew Kate Bishop was out tonight, and it was why he was walking the streets like a normal person, instead of as a superhero. It wasn't the fact of the matter, it was what it could mean, that he wanted to sell.

"Whoa --" he held his hands up, eyebrows raised, everything about him innocent, and mild. With Tony Stark, those things couldn't be further from the truth, but nobody had to necessarily know that. After all, there was nothing anyone could prove, and that was the crux of it all.

"Maybe you shouldn't point a live weapon at a person for no reason? Maybe?"

She's funny, his new partner in crime. He appreciates her enthusiasm, and her effort. She's serious, and dedicated, and that's all that really matters right now. Some of it she'll have to pick up on her own and some of it she'll pick up in books and some of it he can teach her himself, if he has to. She won't need supersenses for all of it, and really, he does need somebody to work the computer around his office, if nothing else. He can't keep calling Hank all the time for help, and he's not going to hold his breath for Foggy or Kirsten or even Jen Walters, any time soon.

Similarly, he can also pick up on her lack of focus, and her half-hearted attempt at taking notes. She probably won't mind the interruption, then.

"You know, I wasn't going to ask you to start back-breaking research until I officially had some cases. But I see you've been keeping busy."

He takes the seat across from her without much ceremony. The smell of all her books and papers is much better than the smell of that guy's caramel latte, two tables over, which is like being punched in the nose with sugar, and he'd like to start drowning that out immediately.

A familiar (if typically fleeting) pit suddenly took root in her stomach when she took note of who she aimed at tonight. It wasn't that she thought he was a criminal, but sometimes these things happened. Perhaps that was a Freudian action, but she wasn't going to pin it on that. She lowered the bow, tucking away the arrow into her quiver, and straightened up, fully aware of how this could go.

After all, the pit was for a reason. She was unregistered. On her wrist, carefully hidden beneath the sleeve of her motorcycle one-piece suit, was the word "vigilante." Nothing she had done changed that, because she knew nothing she said to others through the network would give hint to that. Kate enjoyed mocking their system loudly. She had nothing to lose in doing it personally, even if she now had Billy to be responsible for—not that that would change things.

"I gave in to the temptation," she said. No, it wasn't the truth. That didn't matter. "How are you, Mr. Stark?" No, she wasn't going to ask if he intended to call the authorities.

"I didn't have much time to sit down and do research when I was a PI before," Kate tells him. She knows that she would have more success in Los Angeles if she had that opportunity, but the fact of the matter remains that she hasn't done that. Plus, part of being a good detective here will grant her the ability to debate well. She's not in school anymore, but that's something she needs to have top marks in if she's going to be the loudest ImPort who stands against registration.

At this point, it's a title she wears proudly.

"I learn from my mistakes." Plus, she wants to be impressive. This isn't work she's doing for clients, and it certainly isn't work to find out why music was suddenly on the internet or where she could find a specific flower after an arson. "And I like knowing more than everyone else," she adds with a smile and a faint laugh that vibrates through her throat.

His breathing never quickened, and he never held it, but he did make a show of visibly relaxing, if just for show. It wasn't that he thought she wouldn't see right through it, but he always tried to act just a touch more human than perhaps necessary, if just because he needed to make sure that he let that on; that he wasn't just a machine wearing a human suit -- or maybe it was a human wearing a machine's suit, and not in the same way that his armor was.

"Oh, I was doing just fine. Until I had an arrow pointed at me," he pointed out, hands gesturing to subtly point to her, around waist height. He certainly wasn't going to call the cops -- quite yet, if ever -- but he wasn't going to let her on to know that. He tipped his head.

"Don't you think this is a little dangerous, coming out like this where anyone could stumble on you?"

"How often do you happen upon muggings, Mr. Stark?" Kate asked. It was the first question that came to mind. He crossed in front of an arrow that was meant for someone else, after all. Though now she could picture herself doing the same to him. It wasn't a thought that she would cater to in any way, but she did prefer it to the nature of this conversation. Kate wasn't an overly violent person, even if she did engage in violent activities.

"Or women backed into a corner with a pair of men on her." Nothing was apparent in her eyes when she said that, but she was thinking of herself. What if an arrow had stopped that man that night? "Or do you prefer to stick to bigger problems?"

None of her questions were answers, but she trusted him to get the hint.

Edited 2014-04-17 20:25 (UTC)

"Honestly? I stop what I can, when I can, and fight problems if at all possible."

Alright, maybe not every time, he wasn't out running the streets and patrolling most nights, he was an Avenger, and the streetlevel issues, while important, were closer to fighting a tidal wave, endless and ungratifying. Look at what often happened to Spider-Man, after all. He never seemed to actually make it, despite how hard he fought, and even did good work. Even Tony would admit that.

"While I'm more suited for larger problems, I will take a stand if need be, but we also have cops who need jobs, and attacking muggers with a multi-billion dollar suit of personal armor is overkill by leaps and bounds. Then again, I can fight what I want, thankfully. Without breaking the law."

That was perhaps a touch pointed.

"I think holding us to registration is breaking about five different civil rights laws," Kate shot back. "But they don't apply here, so I can just continue to break the law all I want." She knew there was a risk of saying the wrong thing. Kate knew he could be pushed. Even saying something like that might have been too much, but she wasn't going to hold back. He knew she was out here like this, it was only a matter of time until he ran into her.

"But why don't you tell me what larger problems you're working on?" She was curious. Maybe she'd see what good he was doing, because Kate didn't believe any of them had access to larger problems.

Not yet, anyway.

T'Challa wasn't too keen on becoming a criminal either, but he also didn't want to register with the government. Which might have had something to do with the whole Civil War thing that happened back home and how horrible that whole fiasco turned out. And honestly in these types of situations T'Challa preferred to stay neutral anyway. Even without being King of Wakanda, it was still his much more preferred method with dealing with things.

"I am sure it must be hard for you to remain in the shadows. I know how much Hawkeyes enjoy their ability to snark." Though admittedly most superheroes tend to do at least some snark. Even T'Challa has his moments. "But from what I have seen tonight you ability is fairly impressive. One day you may even be able to match the original."

"I have a few years to get there," she replies, voice casual. Clint's got enough years on her that it will be a while before she catches up. That's something she doesn't ignore, but she doesn't mind. Kate learns a lot from him. His talents are ones that she appreciates, and he's her partner for a reason. Some people might call him her mentor, but their team up is more than that.

"But I like to get in closer, you're right." Not just for the banter, though. There's something more personal about it. And more than that, she doesn't like being limited in her choices.

"Have you been out here much?" Kate's own necessity to keep under the shadows means that she doesn't always know who else is out there. It's both a good and a bad thing in a pinch.

Leave it to Kate to be the other one who would complain about the wine with him.

"Getting used to it" somehow meant curbing good taste buds into something else to see the charm. Sometimes drinking bad beer for the novelty was just that. Loki settles and leans forward on the bar (the bartender didn't even bat an eyelash at him—the illusion was only dropped between the two of them). He waves his hand like he's said something to cause the change in Kate's expression, and no one is any the wiser.

"Practicing? I'm already every spy movie rolled into one. That was good," he says, with just a hint of pride.

"Oh, believe me, that didn't slip my notice."

All of it, really, but the part where she likes to know more than everyone else especially. It's endearing, really, when it's not irritatingly turned on him, but at least he has the grace and the knowledge to know that's because he likes being right, and he doesn't like being called out even when he's in the wrong.

"So what have you learned so far? Either from the book or from trial and error." She's not his student, she's about to be his secretary, but he can't help taking an interest anyway. He likes Jessica Jones. It'd been a bit rough, dealing with her, from time to time, but she's a good person. And if Kate's going to take the lead in being anti-registration, Matt can't help backing her. It's the sort of ballsy move he'd contemplated himself (and probably will pull, sooner or later.)

"It will take some time, yes. But I can see you being a proper successor." You know, when Hawkeye gets up there in years and gets some gray hairs on his head. It's only so long a man can be super duper accurate with his arrows and all.

At her question, he shakes his head and crosses his arms. "Not as much as I would like. While I do not mind being a vigilante, like you, I would rather avoid too much conflict with the local authorities." And that was always a pain. Hell's Kitchen was easier to get around in than this place. "So for now I am laying low."

The right corner of her mouth quirks up at the statement of him being every spy movie rolled into one, because that idea of it amuses her. If some of those spy movies hadn't involved Tom Cruise, it would be less amusing. Fortunately, they do involve him, so she considers the sight of Loki jumping on Oprah's couch.

Considers, but knows he would never do it. He's fun, but there are limitations to that. There always are.

"You're giving yourself too much credit. Magic only accounts for so much." She knows full well what other skills he has, but any room to be less than impressed with him is something she'll take. Gladly.

"So far, I'm trying to track the superhero activities here," she tells him. That's one aspect of it. "But I also want to have a coherent timeline of how things have gone in a different direction than before. They still have a Homeland Security here, but the Cold War necessitated it. Having an idea of that history will help."

There is more, though.

"What's interesting is that no one's tried to write a best-selling novel about the previous ImPorts and their impact on the law." She motions to the books before her. "You'd think there'd be something, but any information that has to do with that is inaccessible." Inaccessible, not nonexistent. But she doesn't have the means to get access to it, not right now. Still, finding information on their presence doesn't have anything to do with that.

"At least your get up makes you blend in better," Kate points out. The fact that he's in black does mean it'll be easier for him to slink into the shadows and press against a convenient wall. Heropa was a city, but it was nothing like New York. Black would be a greater advantage here than it was there, if only because there was a greater need for that.

"But I don't blame you. There's a higher likelihood of accomplishments without a mask on here." So to speak. "Which is almost ironic, considering." They are asking them to be heroes, but the stipulations complicate the way they want to go about it. If you want to be unsettled and respected, do it without a mask.

Though Kate's still find with her choices.

No, he's not the bed-jumping type unless he was looking for something specific. Of course, there are some exceptions that he may make, and as always he never marries himself to anything, especially when it involved Tom Cruise.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," he says and drops his voice just enough to make it comical. "It's not just magic, but who am I to brag?" she's seen the other part of it first-hand, of course. "It's one of those things that's kind of unbecoming. I'd advise against it. 'No, bad Loki!' that's what I'd say."

"As a hint, I'd say it's magic all the time to shirk blame," she says after a beat. "You'd do a lot better at removing blame that way. Or avoiding it." Kate knows her words are likely harsher than they should be, but she has a tendency to be a touch harsh with him. The balance of friendship and nearly dying at his hands multiples times likely has something to do with it.

Yes, she may be friends with Loki, but she's definitely not keen to be the weaker half of that relationship.

Matt snorts, fingers idling drumming on his cane for a moment. And then he shakes his head, slumps back in his chair. "It's not unsurprising. I was fairly certain I'd have to file tons of paperwork to get my hands on some of that. Certainly some of it is going to be highly classified; this is a military operation, and I would be shocked if they don't have an equivalent act in effect to keep certain things suppressed from the general public for safety reasons. I'll see what I can go about digging up. Even knowing what they're willing to stonewall us on is a good starting point."

He will refrain from saying that someone- Frank, maybe, for certain- would be perfectly capable of getting their hands on those records if they really, really needed to know. Would know where they were kept and how to go about retrieving them. That's going to be a problem for later.

"What do you intend to do with all your tracking data?" he asks, somewhat less seriously. "Are you logging evidence?" That could be useful, but then again, it could also be dangerous. As are all things here, really.

"Truthfully, I'm not usually a research type," she tells him. "Part of it is to take the veil off some people's eyes, and part of it is because I've thrown myself into it, so I might as well keep going. People come to me for information, and I'm not going to let them down by having none available." It feels important to stress that point. If nothing else, she can depend on that perspective.

"And part of it is because this is one way to fight," she admits after a brief reprieve from speaking. "What we did before in our world didn't help us. People died." There's a tiny sliver of untruth to what she's saying, but it's only because she's still out there fighting. It's something she hasn't hidden from him, either.

"And here I was trying to be honest," Loki replies smoothly. "Lying all the time doesn't get you very far. There has to be some honesty in there or no one believes you at all." He thinks about this, picking up his drink by the rim. That was really simplifying it. There were all kinds of lies and all kinds of truths and they all got mixed up a lot.

It worked for now.

"Besides, if I said that I'd hear it from the other end."

"The other end?" The statement is ambiguous enough that she feels she has the right to ask for clarification. "Either way, honesty only serves you when you want it to serve you. Even the truth can sound like a lie from the right tongue if it's said a certain way."

There's a small smile as he puts the drink to his lips. "You're catching on. Now, when you start to blur the line we can get wax philosophical. You know, lies as truths and truths as lies, what we tell ourselves and what we present to others—it gets convoluted the further fall down the rabbit hole." But how far he goes and where he stops himself, how he brings himself back and where he stands are all frightfully different. Maybe he doesn't even know—and maybe he doesn't even care to know.

He nods. "I remember." The waver registers, but he lets it go, for the moment. Sometimes there's no point in forcing absolute honesty; it's not always useful, and it's not necessary. Sometimes it's just the truth that you need, if not the one you believe. "We have an advantage in that they don't seem overly aggressive in forcing registration, yet. They're not sending people to prison. Or at least, they're not trying to actively catch people, that I know of. In theory, anyway, unregistered vigilantism will be treated as any kind of regular crime. In practice, I don't know." At least this time, though, no one will go to prison in his place.

"I missed too much." He sighs, and leans back in his chair again, reaching up to rub his eyes behind his glasses. "I only know everything about this secondhand. Did anybody even realize that the man they arrested wasn't who they thought he was? I don't know. But this time they want to pretend to be reasonable and on the up-and-up. Somewhere, there has to be something they're pretending doesn't exist."

"We can wax philosophical, sure," she agrees. "But for me, the truth is fairly simple. I can handle a situation well, but it's better with the actual truth. You gain someone's trust that way." That isn't to say that Kate can't put forth information to see how someone can react like the best of them; it's more to say that she doesn't tend to use that kind of strategic thinking. There were better ways to go about it, ways that involved many more ounces of integrity.

"Here's my theory," she says, gathering up her books and organizing them slightly. He can't see what she's doing, and he might not even understand the metaphor she's about to go for, but she decides to launch into it anyway. "There are a lot of players on the board. If this was chess, white and black wouldn't be enough. The red from checkers wouldn't do it, either. We'd have to try Monopoly, maybe. Or the game of Sorry. Those have more options, only the additional pieces are nebulous blobs. People talk about gods, but Matt, we know gods. A lot of this doesn't feel ... like it's related to that. It's caught up in jurisdiction and science. Gods aren't needed to traverse universes."

That is, unless America herself turns out to be a god. She pauses, being caught in that for a moment. No, Kate doubts it.

"As it is, I'm sticking with the government because there are places where questions come up, and they can answer them. The nebulous blobs are so nebulous that they aren't keen to say much."

It's true it's been some times since he knew what these games looked like. Since he thought about the context of needing to see anyone's gestures, as though they could help. But he understands her metaphor perfectly.

"You need answers before you can start defining the blobs anyway. If we can guess anyone has them, it's somewhere in the government." Unless it's someone behind the government. "What they don't say will be just as important as what they do. Breaking in through legal channels isn't going to be easy. I'm thinking I might have to pay Washington a visit and storm some offices." Eventually. Not that he's super keen to do that at the moment.

"Tape something if you need to," he suggests. "If you think it would be beneficial. It might be easier for you to get into some of these places than me. People have this thing about lawyers. But if you can get a recording, at bare minimum I can tell you what's outright bullshit, what's a spin, and what's the actual truth."

"Not the same as being face to face, but can you tell by a single tone?" It doesn't take much for Kate to figure out there's something about how he manages as Daredevil. She doesn't ask for all the specifics, but it's a given. He is blind, but there's more to it. Working with him spells various aspects of it out. "But I can try to get in. I have a feeling getting someone outside of a text-based communication won't be easy, but I'll do my best."

Her lips do purse, though, after a moment. "What I'm worried about is the Norman Osborn of this world. Not the imPort among us, but ..." She leaves it off there, uneasy. "The guy who's opportunistically waiting to turn this situation into something we can take advantage of. There is a guy who's pro-imPort, I looked him up, but I don't know what to think about him. His name's Narga."

"I need at least a few seconds. It doesn't have to be in person, but I have to be able to hear long enough to pick up a pulse. As long as I have that, and it's not faked somehow, it'll work." It's not a secret; it's just that he doesn't feel the need to spell it out automatically, force of habit. But they're partners of a sort. It'll be useful for her to know how that works.

"Given me your initial impression from what you know. I trust your instincts."

A pulse through a recording. She's going to have to ask for specifics on that, but she'd rather discuss Narga. "From what I've seen, he's on the up and up. He hasn't acted opportunistically, but the truth is, I haven't spoken to him yet. I'm not going with guess work until the two of us have a conversation." She does, however, hesitate, considering.

"But I can have a conversation, one that you can be aware of, if necessary."

"He can legally be on the technically up-and-up, but that doesn't mean there's not something shady going on somewhere. Wilson Fisk managed it for years and years. Not that I'm suggesting he's secretly a criminal kingpin, mind you. I would really prefer otherwise." Although that would make it a lot more familiar to deal with. Something, somewhere, has to be buried. He can find it, if he digs hard enough.

"...try to see where you can get with that, and I'll see what I can do...from another angle."

From another angle. Matt can't see it, but he can likely hear the thoughtful huff of breath. Kate has a feeling that he has something in mind, but he's not spelling it out yet. She doesn't blame him for that.

"I'll be sure to ask you what that is once it gets underway," she says. No need to pry yet. Besides, their relationship is still a new one. She can't expect him to be too candid with her.

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option A, obviously

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