Client Meeting Over Coffee

June 19, 2015:

Caitlin asks legal advice of Matt. Felicity is nearby and manages to get into a contest of who can stick their foot further into their mouth with Caitlin.

Hell's Kitchen - Coffee Shop


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Despite a promising meeting with a certain superhuman attorney, Caitlin had placed one more call. A friend of a friend had recommended Murdock and Assoc. as a place for struggling citizens to get good legal aid, and so Caitlin had hopped two busses and a train to get to Hell's Kitchen. Ignoring a lot of stares and one cat-caller (though she did put him in a dumpster), the Amazonian superheroine refers frequently to a scrap of paper with the address of a little corner cafe not far from the legal firm that had been suggested by the secretary.

Caitlin adjusts her t-shirt and slightly baggy pants, trying towards something like looking presentable, and starts casting around for a seat that'll support her weight. The best she can find is a sturdy looking wood bench, which groans audibly when she sits- she winces at the creaking sound and sits with her hands on her knees, one heel jittering nervously as she looks around for the lawyer.

When Karen told him that he was having a client interview at a nearby coffee shop, he gave her a somewhat odd look. Well, as much as one can give an odd look from behind dark sunglasses. These had the potential to be tricky, especially since it often meant that the potential client was nervous about speaking with a lawyer. It took him only a few moments to grab his freshly-charged phone and cane to make his way down to the shop in question.

Of course, being that it's just down the street from the office, he knows exactly which one this is. It's actually one of the nicer ones that came in as Hell's Kitchen was slowly being revitalized. Luckily, it wasn't terribly snobby — the coffee was a bit more expensive, but it was good, and the place was kept clean despite the hipsters who flocked down from Midtown or up from the Village. It's better than a chain one even if they haven't quite learned the repeat locals' names yet.

Tapping his way through the door, he pauses at the threshhold for a moment before he moves up to the counter to speak to one of the baristas. Not that they would have left a name, but he's looking for a Ms. Fairchild…

Felicity is not here to meet anyone. In fact, she's here to take advantage of the free wifi the coffee house offers in order to do a little hacking. Best to do that sort of thing on a network that doesn't lead right to where she lives or works. Especially when what she's looking in to might involve crazy government conspiracies. Working off of her Windows Tablet, she looks very focused, if a bit nervous about what she's doing.

Trying to look like she's just here for coffee and to work on a novel or something, she's already looked around to judge the other patrons. The door opening and closing to reveal Matt is met with a bit of a quiet, relieved sigh.

"Ah, uh, that's um… me." Caitlin waves at Matt. Then promptly facepalms at herself when she spots the walking cane. The redhead gets to her feet and moves to the counter not far from him, as if not quite sure of the etiquette of addressing a blind person. "Er… hello. Hi? Mister Murdock?" she ventures, leaning forward and speaking a bit too softly. "I'm, uh, Caitlin Fairchild. I talked to your secretary on the phone. I'm over there." She points at the bench and then flushes embarassment. "By the red table-"

Caitlin's mouth snaps shut with an audible click and she looks helplessly at the barista, who 'newwwwwps' and walks off.

So many people on their laptops and phones…Matt can hear them clicking away even if he can't tell what's being typed or texted. He notes the sigh of relief from one of the patrons as he walked in — curious — but he does need to find the one he's meeting. As the tall…very tall woman approaches and offers her name in that quiet voice, he turns and does his best to offer a reassuring smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Fairchild," A hand is held out for her to shake if she chooses. "Well, let's go on over to the table then. Did you want anything to eat or drink? My treat…" As if she didn't just make some interesting gaffes while speaking to him. Happens all the time.

Felicity's table just happens to be nearby Caitlin and Matt's. A paper cup of coffee sits on the table in front of her, barely touched. She can't help but give a soft, amused laugh at Caitlin's misspeak, as she's close enough to hear it. So often it's Felicity putting her foot in her mouth that when she hears someone else do it, well, she feels a kinship for the tall Amazonian woman. Knowing it's a rude thing to do, she leans over her tablet a bit more. That also helps hide whatever it is she's doing from the passersby as they closely pass by her and sit themselves at the table next to her.

Whether he knows it or not, Matt just earned several Caitlin Points, redeemable anywhere Caitlin Points are accepted (which is nowhere, but still, it's the principle of the thing). Spared the humiliation of being reamed out for multiple faux pas in a row, Caitlin squares her shoulders a little and shakes Matt's hand. She makes no effort to squeeze, but the girl's got a grip on her.

"Thanks, Mister Murdock," she says gratefully. "I'll have a coffee, if that's okay," she asks, looking to the barista. "Just black, or whatever." She tries to sound diffident, but someone clearly raised her to be polite on someone else's tab.

She heads to the table, glancing frequently over her shoulder to make sure she doesn't misplace Matt, and settles into the seat again, glancing uncomfortably at the woman on the tablet near her seat. "So… here's my situation, Mister Murdock," she hedges, unconsciously hunching a bit. "I was involved in an incident across town. I was trying to stop some… I think they haven't decided if they're robbers or domestic terrorists or not, but- anyway, they were wrecking a lab so I jumped in and helped stop them. I didn't even make it /home/ before I got a phone call saying they'd looked me up- I'm registered in the system- and I'd been named as a defendent in /two/ suits. Three since yesterday." She exhales forlornly, tucking her knees and toes together under the table. "I talked to Ms. Walters- you know, from… uh. I don't know her firm." She jitters her heel again. "Anyway, a friend said I should get at least one second opinion."

"Get what you like…I'm charging it to the firm." It sounds important, but he'll just end up paying Foggy back the ten bucks or so. He'll order a cappucino and a couple of pastries and ask to have them brought over to the table. He then arches an eyebrow from under his sunglasses as the other woman walks in front of him to the table. It's after only a moment before he reaches out to place a hand on her arm for the rest of the way. "Sorry…but…I didn't want to run into other tables…" is offered as he slips into a seat across from her. He turns his head towards the woman with the tablet at the next table but then reaches to pull out his phone.

"Do you mind if I record this for note-taking purposes…so you won't have to repeat it all later?"

He then settles in to listen. "Who had looked you up? The ones wrecking the lab or the owners of the lab? Is there video surveillance at all that they might have showing that you were doing something other than assisting?" She's registered in the system, "Being registered can be useful in this, actually…in that you are allowing your information to be available and therefore potentially trusted. Were you issued a subpoena at all? And I'm sorry, a Ms. Walters?" There are a lot of lawyers in New York City. "What advice did she give you?"

Far be it from Felicity to eavesdrop, especially when she's also doing things at the table right next to them that she doesn't really want other people to see. Trying to give the pair their space, she catches Caitlin's eye when she uncomfortably looks over and smiles, "Oh, don't mind me," she tells the woman reaching over to take up her lukewarm coffee. "I'm not even here. Just working. You know how it gets! The boss always bossing you around, asking, 'Where are my files! And that report! And…the other stuff, you know, that you do when you're at work.'"

The hacker does not tend to be a good liar, and when she's nervous she babbles. "But, uh, the main thing to take from that is I'm totally focused on what I'm doing, so I'm not going to eavesdrop. Not that I would if I wasn't working, that would be rude. And inappropriate. And…basically like this entire conversation. I'll…I'll stop now." What started as a flippant reassuring comment to make it seem like she is here under more normal circumstances has started to snowball into an awkward avalanche that's drawing more attention than saying nothing would have. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop talking. Blushing, the blonde woman sinks down in her seat a bit more and goes back to her tablet, typing away furiously.

There's certainly no objection from Caitlin when Matt reaches for her arm. Again, she looks embarassed at having no idea of etiquette where blind associates are concerned. Matt would probably note the literally-steel like composition of her muscles under otherwise soft skin, though.

If Felicity's trying to set up a competition on who can blush more, IT'S ON. Her flailing defense of her totally-not-eavesdropping-ness leaves Caitlin blinking, up until Nerd Empathy kicks in when she realizes the hacker is liberally chewing on her own foot. The redhead flushes, too, and cringes a bit. She's done /precisely/ what Felicity's doing.

It takes her a minute to reassemble her aplomb, coughing into her hand. Once everyone's settled and the questions fly, Caitlin screws her nose up, thinking. "It was the owners of the lab, their insurance company, and then … McHallister Law offices, who were /so/ nice to volunteer one of those group lawsuits for some of the bystanders who were near the thing," she grates. "What do you call 'em, class acts?" she hazards. She ticks on her fingers, counting. "I think the video surveillance got broken- the lab was pretty broken up. There might be, though. I mean, I kind of had to go through a roof… and a security door… …and the floor got a little torn up. …and then a small fire started," she admits. "But that was all kind of collateral. So no subpoena, just one of those, um, notifications from the various firms that I was named." She accepts her coffee from the barista and looks at the pastries, then sliiiiiides one plate across the table towards Matt. "Ms Walters- Jennifer Walters? She-Hulk?" she tries again. "She said I /should/ be covered because I'm registered, and she was really nice, but… she's kinda on retainer with my boss, and I figured I should talk to someone from outside the business just in case, like, there's a conflict of interest, or something," she hedges, finally taking a bite of the pastry.

Matt Murdock tilts his head towards Felicity as she seems to have this…sort of conversation with Caitlin in as much as she's busy and…well, geeks are cute. There's the beginning of concern as she speaks about her bosses, but when she says she won't eavesdrop, the concern fades. "I hope we don't disturb you with our conversation," is offered cheerfully to the other before he turns back to Caitlin and their food. A hand wraps around the cappucino mug and he takes a quick sip, "Well, first of all, if you didn't receive a subpoena, they can't really prosecute you. You may still receive it as I'm guessing this going to be something their insurance is going to handle and those can take a great deal of time. But just them calling and saying this…it's not official. Also, without any surveillance or proof…well, I suppose they may have dusted for prints and pulled your name up from that, but if you were trying to help, I'm not sure that they could prove that you caused intentional damage to the building. It should be covered by the building's insurance although they may not have a clause for suck collateral damage."

At the mention of 'She-Hulk', Matt's brows draw down again but he then takes another sip of the cappucino - the pastry is untouched for now. "Being registered doesn't protect you from the legal system, Ms. Fairchild. It does, however, mean that you are putting your own faith in the legal system to be fair and right even if you do have certain…abilities. That you aren't seeking to abuse the system and that you aren't in hiding. That speaks to your character right there. It does not, if I recall…and I can research this further if you wish…indemnify you from prosecution." There's a pause there, "I'm not going to tell you which lawyer to go with. Unless you receive a subpoena, I don't believe you will actually be called in to a trial. My guess is that something like could…and possibly will…settle out of court with the insurance companies. Unless they're trying to make a media hoopla out of this…which is possible. As for it being a conflict of interest…probably not if she's on retainer through your employer, but possibly if she is also someone with…abilities."

"Oh, no, totally not disturbing. You're fine. Better than fine. And I mean that about how you are acting, not about how you're both fine as in attractive. Which you are…God, I'm so sorry. I'll just sink into a hole and die now." From her sunken down place in her chair, Felicity keeps her eyes completely focused on the tablet and whatever it is she's doing there. Her cheeks are still quite a bit reddish pink, though she desperately attempts to look like she didn't just run her mouth off again in an embarrassing way. It seems she and Caitlin really could go toe to toe on a blush off.

The blonde woman keeps true to her word, first unable to keep herself from listening in to what Caitlin and Matt are talking about just because she was focused on them. Then, though, while text and information start to move on her screen, she comes engrossed. Words and phrases flit in, but she's really not trying to listen in on them.

"I'm so screwwwwwwed," Caitlin says, bemoaning her fate and clutching her head, elbows on the table. "I… she said she'd work for bones," Caitlin says, getting it completely wrong. "But I'm not technically an employee- I'm just a paid intern. So I don't know what to do if she changes her mind. I've got… like, fifteen hundred bucks?" she hazards, looking at Matt. "Is that enough? How much does a lawyer cost?"

And the Felicity says she's pretty, and Caitlin makes a really good effort at vanishing into thin air. She fails utterly, but it's a /good try/. "Thanks, you're attractive too," she tells Felicity too. She blanches. "I mean, you're nice looking. Friendly. Not that you aren't attractive. You are attractive." She waves her hands. "I'm not trying to hit on you! I'm just saying you're cute! I like cute girls, but I'm- no, I- He's cute, too!" she says, gesturing at Matt.

Then she slaps her hands over her mouth, staring at Matt with a horrified expression. "I'm sorry! I don't mean it like that! I like cute guys, too! I mean you are- but I didn't- " she says a bit shrilly. "Is this… like is that a lawyer-client-conflict thing?! Oh god." She grips her chest, starting to hyperventilate a little.

Matt Murdock just sort of turns to Felicity first…"I…thank you?" and he starts to reach out to try and offer a comforting pat or something to Caitlin but then she starts in on the talking. "Uhh. Thank you as well…I…" All right. "Just breathe, Ms. Fairchild. Breathe. It's all right. Have…" Maybe she shouldn't have any more coffee. "Have some of the pastry?"

"I'm not offended and we're not a couple so there's no conflict," he's trying really hard not to smile at that. Really hard. "Lawyers can be expensive, I'm afraid…at least, many of them can be." Foggy is going to kill him. "But is cost the only thing weighing your decision now?"

From her spot next to them, Felicity has been doing a good job at keeping her word. Following a trace down what seems to be an internet rabbit hole, her blush starts to leave her face and a curious, intense expression replaces it as she moves from one server to the next, the specially crafted algorithm she implemented giving her bits and pieces of information and leading her further and further down.

It's only when she starts to hear Caitlin talking about cute girls that the bespectacled woman looks up again, blinking owlishly at the verbal stumbling that is normally something only she does. Poor Matt, trapped between two awkward people who have problems with speaking. And stopping speaking. Her cheeks flush a bright red at the compliment. "Oh, no, I understand. Totally. I accidentally hit on people all the time. Normally with incredibly poorly thought out phrases like when I mean I'm handcuffed to someone and it comes out that I've handcuffed them to a bed. Not literally handcuffed them to a bed, of course. Verbally."

Caitlin is heaving visibly, the table bending just a little as she grips it for stability. It takes her a few seconds to get her emotions under control, though she looks like an orange-topped cherry tomato for a moment. "Okay. I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm good," she says, slowly reasserting her self control.

She relaxes her hands with a visible effort of will.

"Wait, why are you handcuffing people? Do you have handcuffs now? Are you a cop? Am I going to jail for flirting with a cop?!" she asks Matt. "Do you go to jail for that? I mean, does I? Do I? I wasn't flirting!" she says, rounding on Felicitly and looking like she might flip the table and flee the coffeeshop. Possibly the state. Perhaps a life of simple solitude and silence, as a nun. Or death! Death might be a good alternative.

"I mean, not that I /wouldn't/ flirt with you. You're, um, really pretty! But I mean that really respectfully, officer! Please don't arrest me!" she begs.

"I'm not thinking about murdering my way out of this situation, I SWEAR."

"Ladies…ladies, please…" Matt may not be able to 'see', per se, but he can tell that they're being watched. "Let's just do this." He moves to the edge of the booth seat towards Felicity and offers a hand, "My name's Matthew Murdock. This is Caitlin Fairchild." They're going to start with this and maybe it will dispel some of the awkwardness.

At the hyperventilating, Felicity looks concerned. Still pink, but concerned. She shoots Matt a look before she realizes that doing that means absolutely nothing to the blind man. She doesn't have any water, but her lukewarm coffee is a bit better for drinking than the hot liquid sitting in front of either of them. With a few deft taps, the tablet screen turns dark. While the algorithm is still running, she can safely place it on the table without worrying what anyone else may see.

"I'm not a cop," she reassures Caitlin. "I meant, like, emotionally handcuffed. I don't have any handcuffs on me. Or at home! Or anywhere, really." She takes Matt's hand and shakes it gently. "Felicity Smoak," she introduces. She's still blushing. "Nice to meet you. And, uh, sorry. I really didn't mean to interrupt your coffee date."

Nope. Caitlin checks out when Felicity says 'date'. And for a moment, there is a look of /profound/ gratitude when she stares at Matt, slack-jawed, bright red, and remembers he's blind.


Caitlin miraculously avoids knocking the table over and just turns around and as easily as someone might hop a curb, clears the low fence around the cafe bistro. She turns into literally the first dark corner and leaps up five stories to land on a rooftop, and from there she literally runs back to Queens as fast as she can.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Smoak…" Matt starts and even gives a chuckle when a date is mentioned, "Oh, it's not…" he starts but then Caitlin just freaks out. He's left at the table with two uneaten pastries and a barely-touched coffee…and his own cappucino.

Well, that was interesting. "Ms. Smoak, would you care for a pastry? We weren't on a date. It was a professional consultation…I think. Although now I'm not so sure exactly what it was."

Well, he's not going to rush back to the office just yet. "I hope we didn't interrupt your work."

When Caitlin makes a run for it, Felicity blinks a few more times. "Was it something I said?" she asks Matt softly, blushing again. He can't see that, at least, but he's sure to know she's embarrassed.

She looks at the pastry and her own not finished coffee and shrugs - again a gesture he can't see. Crap, she's very bad at this. "Ah, sure. Thank you, Mr. Murdock. I didn't mean to imply anything! And, I think I'm the one that interrupted your work. This stuff isn't really work."

Matt Murdock moves to hand the plate over, "Call me Matthew, please." He's not really flirting…not intentionally. He's just friendly…for a native New Yorker. "I don't think it was anything you said although between the two of you…that was quite the conversation. I don't know if anything was actually implied…I honestly don't quite know what spooked her." He then brings his own drink a little closer so that he can maintain the conversation, "I don't know if this was work, per se…she asked to meet here rather than the office. It was really more of a…legal advice sort of thing, I suppose. Not sure why she didn't want to just discuss things over the phone…" but he's not really complaining. It gets him out of the office and meeting new people.

If he's flirting with her, Felicity has no idea. She's a friendly person and doesn't think anything of talking to others in a coffee shop. "Uh, I have a gift for conversation," she replies, flushing again and sounding quite embarrassed. Eager to get off the topic of how she literally talked a woman into fleeing a cafe, she moves on to the not wanting to talk to people over the phone. "Oh, maybe she was worried about wiretaps or vocal monitoring. You know, all that stuff the government allows. Maybe she thought if she called she'd just get the secretary taking messages. So, you're a public defender?"

It actually reminds him to turn his phone's recording option off, which he does. "I…do you think they do that sort of thing in hipster, indie coffee shops?" Not that Matt seems terribly concerned about it all either but he understands when a subject needs to be changed. "Well, she did get our secretary in person but I guess this meeting was decided upon by one of them. I guess I'll have to ask for details when I get back to the office." He returns to his own drink for a moment, "Yes, I mean…well, not specifically. Everyone has to spend a little time being a public defender, but she called our office and I got the assignment. My partner is currently working on another case of our's. And you…working from 'home', I see?"

"No no, I meant, that's probably why she didn't want to talk to you over the phone. Though, really, if they're going to monitor any coffee shop, it's probably going to be some place like Starbucks." Felicity has thought these things through. Not only due to the fact that she used to try and find information on people to expose corruption, which has made her a bit more paranoid about those things.

"Ah, so, you're a different kind of lawyer?" For a moment she sounds almost disappointed, but that is quickly replaced by a quick nervous moment, eyes immediately flicking down to the tablet, worried the screen somehow turned back on. Again, she forgets that he's blind. Nervously, she decides to just flip the entire thing over so that the screen faces the table. Safer that way. "Oh, uh, sort of. You know, research, Power Point presentations."

"Well, we mostly do defense…of the people who tend to need it most. The ones who can't afford to hire the fancy, uptown lawyers, the ones who are being screwed by the system…that sort of thing," Matt explains. "My partner would rather we be the fancy types, but…who else will help these others if we don't?" Matt doesn't even seem to notice the tablet being flipped over but that's quite interesting.

"PowerPoint, hmm? Well, I don't want to keep you from your work, Ms. Smoak. It's been a pleasure meeting you and good luck with that research and the presentations." Not that he necessarily wants to end the conversation, but the woman -was- working. That's just mean to keep her from it…that and now he has to go grill Karen about Fairchild.

As Matt talks, Felicity's eyebrows raise. "It's very noble work," she tells him, sounding incredibly sincere and interested. "Do you happen to have a card?" Then, she flushes, realizing how that sounds. "Wait, was that rude? I can't seem to go more than five minutes without sticking my own foot right into my mouth."

Hoping that flipping the tablet over has at least made that part of the conversation go away, she smiles. Knowing no one else can read it makes her feel a bit calmer. "Oh, uh, thank you. It was nice meeting you. Sorry it turned a bit…crazy."

Matt Murdock digs around in a pocket and pulls out a card-case which does, indeed, hold business cards. The print is slightly raised - easier for sensitive fingers to read without having to deal with Braille. It's then held out to Felicity, "Thank you, and I do, in fact. Always try to have them on me. And it wasn't rude." One never knows who they'll run into. "Our office is just up the street as well if you ever needed to just stop by."

There's another chuckle then as he finishes off his cappucino and puts his uneaten pastry in a napkin to carry out with him, "Honestly, this was one of the more normal client meetings I've had."

Felicity takes the card from Matt, fingers automatically running over the slightly raised type. While she reads over the information there, it's a quick glance and then she slips the card into her purse. Without anything else for them to do, her hands rest on the back of her tablet on the table. "Thanks," she replies, even if she hasn't said what it is she might need with a lawyer.

Then, though she knows that Matt can't see it, Felicity raises an eyebrow. "A random crazy woman butting into your session who then manages to make your client run fleeing in terror was normal? I'd hate to see what crazy is like for you."

Matt Murdock grins again, "Well, I don't know about 'normal', but there have certainly been odder things happen…" especially in some of his latest interviews with clients. Part and parcel of working with mutants, it seems. "You're welcome and good luck with your work, Ms. Smoak. I hope we get a chance to meet again." With that, he takes his wrapped-up pastry and stands, taking a moment to orient himself in the shop before tapping his way back to the door.

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