Summary:Tony comes around to Matt's office to do a good deed. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Another work day at the law firm, such as it is. Business is slow today. That's when Tony Stark walks in, dressed to the nines in a fine suit. Even the way the fabric rustles on him is luxurious. His gait is familiar, maybe, from that night at the docks. His heartbeat is a little swift, and a little weak. Just a little. Enough to notice, but not enough to necessarily mean he's in any trouble. Yet.
Still, there are other things that hint at a man who isn't well. The hitch in his gait that hints at muscle weakness. The way his breaths aren't very deep. No one else could possible notice the slight oddity in his scent. It's not bad, just oddly tarnished and metallic.
He raps on the doorframe and asks, "You got a minute?"
Matt's office isn't just empty. It's devoid. As if all life has ceased to exist outside of Matt Murdock's own office. The sign outside still says Nelson and Murdock. Except someone took black tape, paper and some plastic to cover up the 'Nelson'. It's a cheap but thorough enough cover job. So the Murdock half is all that remains.
He's sitting at his desk with a single earbud in, listening to something on his phone. Of course, he could smell Tony before he walked up but he still makes Mister Stark wait with a single raised finger. He pauses whatever it is and stands up, pulling his gray suit jacket together. His glasses are off and folded on his desk. "Hello, Mister Stark. What brings you up here today?" He step carefully from behind the desk to offer his hand. "You aren't in any trouble, are you?" He smiles. It's a joke. Because it's Tony Stark. Heh. Smooth Matt.
Tony Stark smiles amiably, because never let it be said Tony Stark isn't an amiable guy, and he shakes Matt's hand. He's a little warm to the touch. "Not today, not yet, but do you know you can't even buy selenium compounds from a reputable dealer in this neighborhood anymore?" He watches Matt carefully. He's already got his suspicions, for reasons, but he's still looking for tells.
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about some pro bono work."
"Selenium compounds?" Matt asks, blinking. "I didn't know Hell's Kitchen was the place to find, uh, chemicals like that. Those are some kind of chemical, right? Or metal?" He waves a hand. "They say the neighborhood is changing all the time." He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. "So, pro-bono. Please sit?" Matt sidles on behind his desk to sit "You have to begin with /why/ Tony Stark wants pro-bono work from a random lawyer in Hell's Kitchen."
"Selenium has lots of uses," Tony says. "In solar cells, photo cells. Glassmakers use it to make red glass. Not so many uses in the electronics industry anymore, though. Photographers still use it, though, and glassworkers. Blame gentrification, I guess."
He takes a seat. "Oh, that's up to you," he says. "I'm just here to fund it. I figure there are a lot of sad luck stories that come across your desk all the time. There always are with these changing neighborhoods. Rental disputes, buildings being up to code. Whatever else."
"Gentrification has brought me some business. The majority of it, at least." Matt says, leaning back a little. "So. It's not pro-bono? You are bankrolling? I…" He chuckles, nervously. "I'm a little confused, that's all. So, uh, if you tell me about what you need, I can probably make it happen. I, uh, lost my partner recently. And my assistant. And some clients followed him. I'm trying to rebuild my practice and working with you, Mister Stark would not hurt. So, uh…what do you need from me?"
"The way I figure," Tony says, "You would be doing the pro bono work. Just not for me. Do it for people who need it. If it matters, I have a soft spot for smart people who need a leg up, but whatever. You do what you do. I was thinking of starting with a million and seeing where things go from there."
"Pardon? A million what? A million dollars for…doing what I do already?" Matt is redlining on suspicion here. His expression, unbroken by his usual glasses is hard, careful. "Mister Stark, when I had a partner, we would take anything as payment. So many fresh eggs. So much produce. And a fair share of weekly casseroles. I think we used to have an actual schedule so we didn't have five or six all show on Friday." He smiles, like that is a distant memory now.
"So…you was doing this why? Charitable donation? Tax break?" He pauses a beat, shifts and swallows. "Look, if you are trying to purchase yourself some hungry lawyer for emergencies or…whatever, I am not for sale, Mister Stark. Yes, I have found myself on hard times. I'm sure you saw the sign outside. People say very nice things about the blind lawyer in Hell's Kitchen, so hearing about me isn't impossible. I want to know the whole story. Why me?" He spreads his hands and leans back.
Tony Stark says, "Sure, I'll get a tax break. It's basically a write-off. I mean, it's no tuna casserole, but you don't want to try my cooking." He holds up a hand, as if Matt could see it, and says, "Relax. I've got lawyers." He sighs quietly. Of course the guy's going to be suspicious. "Look, I'm paying it forward. Hell's Kitchen did me a favor a little while ago, and I'm returning it. After today, if you like, we don't ever have to cross paths again."
Matt sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I need it in writing. I can draw something up and send it to your offices. Let your overpaid guys look through it and then we'll go from there? All I want is transparency and a legally binding statement that you aren't my boss and I am not beholden to you in any way." He leans on his desk now and sighs. "The Kitchen did you a favor…did they deliver on the selenium?" He snorts in a little chuckle. "I guess I should thank you. I can't say that things have been going well for me on the career and personal relationship front. Which is, uh, why my partner and I have parted ways. Without him, it's getting hard to keep the lights on, much less keep a pot of terrible coffee on."
"Sure," Tony says. "Send something to my guys, they'll look it over. That's what I pay them for. Everything will be above board." He sighs quietly. "You don't owe me," he says quietly. He laughs a little and says, "Yeah, I got the selenium. It's not going to help me with this particular photography project, but it was nice to get home more or less in one piece with my box of goodies in hand. It was a rough night, a little touch and go for awhile. Apparently the world of industrial chemistry is rough on the street level. Who knew?"
"Really? Industrial chemistry is rough at a street level? I'm not surprised. Other than chemical deals taking place in my neighborhood, I'm not surprised it's all so shady." Matt shrugs. "Anyway, I'll have something to your lawyers in the morning. Before the end of business, at the very least. Working alone has…" He sits up straight. "I'm sorry, Mister Stark. I am…I suppose I don't quite feel right about taking your money so I can work on the cases I…got the degree to do. I-I thank you for giving back and being charitable…" He sighs, groans and runs his fingers through his hair. "Forget it. I'll take the help. I will. And I will continue to serve my city to the best of my ability. With full coffers. If this works out. I'll have a practice. I was about to sell this space when you came in. I was on hold. So. Good timing, Mister Stark."
"I'm at my best in the eleventh hour," Tony says wryly. "Look, if it's too much money, you tell me a number. Or tell my guys. They can fill in the blank." He considers Matt for a long moment. Does he suspect? Does he know? Tony's smarter than most people, and those words don't quite encompass quite how much smarter. He has an eye for details and the resources to give Google a run for its money. That pause is pregnant with unspoken words, and then he finally says with a shrug, "Anyway, just thought I'd do my part to help out."
Matt has a stillness to him in that pause. His expression is neutral or, perhaps, thoughtful. "So am I, in a way." Matt says, finally. He picks up one of his business cards. They are still in the box they were delivered in. New with his name alone and a bit of braille embossed beneath the written words. "Here. You can call, you know." He smirks. "But, uh, thank you for coming down. You'll hear from me. A million is a lot. But I can do a lot with a lot. I can help a lot of people." And he needs to. It does unsaid but the way he deflates as he nods. "Thank you very much, Mister Stark. If there is anything you need, legally, I mean and you need your own lawyers to stay out of it. I will help you. Not because you own me but because…" He pauses. "It's the right thing to do. If there isn't anything else, I need to, uh…" There is a file box on his desk and two more behind him. "If you happen to know a good secretary in need of work. There's an opening." He says and it sounds like a lament.
Tony Stark rises to his feet and takes the card. "I'll keep that in mind," he says. "There might come a time when I'd like to handle a few affairs off the books. Nothing shady, just that people talk. You know how it is." He glances around the place. "If I find anyone, I'll send them your way. Anyway, I'll let myself out." And he does.
Matt waits. He waits until he can no longer hear Tony, which takes a bit of time. Once it's all clear, he exhales and cries out in joy. "Yes! Yes, finally something goes my way! I can do this now. I can…make it right. I can make /this/ work. I can." He mutters quietly to himself before setting about drawing up the agreement. Maybe, if he keep very busy, he can ignore the sirens and cries for help. Just keep busy.