Matt has to admit that he wasn't sure about this "vigilante buddy club" when Michaela first brought it to his attention. He hasn't interacted with Jones and Cage himself, but like he told Michaela, he knows them well enough by reputation. Cage might be amenable to the idea, but given his affiliation with Harlem he might not want to venture outside of his home town when it comes to heroics.

But then she brings in Spider-Man.

"He's a sweet kid," Michaela says, from the sound of it while she's texting someone, presumably Spider-Man. "Big Iron Man fan, huge. Super eager to please, too, which. Not the greatest quality to have in this line of work, honestly, considering how dangerous everything is. But I like his energy."

Matt suppresses a smile, offering his hand to Michaela to help her from down the edge of the fire escape. She takes it without hesitation, but he's also fairly certain she's not giving him her full attention. Whatever conversation she's having with the Spider kid must be interesting.

"You should have asked him to come," he says once they're both ground-level and heading in the direction of Jones' office, which Michaela has helpfully pulled up directions to on her phone. "He might've been able to charm Jones into working with us."

"We're charming enough on our own, aren't we? Plus I thought you said the enthusiastic approach wouldn't get us anywhere with Jones."

"I did say that, and I meant it. But you're already willing to die for this kid, so maybe he'd inspire the same thing in Jones."

"You're saying that with disbelief in your voice because you haven't met him. He's a baby. An adorable, dorky, heart-too-big-for-his-tiny-body baby. I'm glad he agreed to work with me at least, that kid needs someone watching his back for him."

"Alright, alright," Matt concedes, lifting a hand in a show of peace. Either Michaela misinterprets the gesture or feels spiteful still, because she smacks his hand with hers hard, though judging by the hiss she lets out and the way she cradles her hand to her chest, his armored glove didn't do her any favors. "Sorry," he says, nudging her shoulder sympathetically. She mumbles ugh I need better gloves under her breath, which he wisely chooses not to comment on, and instead asks, "How much further?"

Michaela shifts next to him, taps again at her phone screen. "Another street over, and then it's the complex on the—"

Matt pulls Michaela behind him, hearing but disregarding the huff of protest she lets out. He cocks his head, listening for the footsteps he just caught from what sounded like the roof behind them. They've stopped, but he can hear breathing, a third heartbeat — steady, strong. And then the footsteps pick up again, faster, a foot pushing off the concrete—

Someone lands on the ground not five feet from them, seemingly undamaged from the four-story drop. Michaela yelps, and Matt feels a tingle of electricity curl up his spine from the grip she has on the back of his suit. It's harmless, just an unconscious reaction on her part, so he doesn't say anything, doesn't acknowledge the contracting of his back muscles, just takes in what he can of the newcomer.

Shorter than him but not by much, taller than Michaela; leaner than both of them, but significantly leaner than Matt. No increase in breathing, no change in the pattern; heartbeat as steady as it was on the roof. Leather crinkles and groans as they cross their arms, shifting their weight slightly. Ready to move at a moment's notice.

"Oh," Michaela says, and inches out from behind him, standing at his side. Her breathing and heart rate have both calmed substantially in the last few seconds, and without her having to do the breathing exercises he's heard from her before. "Um. Hi. You're Jessica Jones, right?"

Jessica Jones. Matt adjusts the mental picture he's had of her up until now. Foggy had described her appearance to him once, from a photo in the paper, but she's taller in person than he'd been expecting.

"Mind telling me what the fuck you two yahoos are doing here? You're trespassing."

"That's... harsh," Michaela says. She's still nervous, Matt can hear the threads of it in her voice, but she stands next to him and doesn't waver. At least, not in any way the average person would notice. He's not sure Jones is average, though, from what he's heard of her. "You don't own the whole block, do you?"

"You were about to come into my building, to my office, and I don't remember inviting either of you. I've gotten people convicted for less."

Matt... somehow doesn't doubt the veracity of that. "Look, we're here on friendly terms."

Jessica tsks. "What a shame. I'm not in the market for more friends. The two I have are annoying enough as it is. So you and Baby Thor over there can get the hell out of my neighborhood."

"Was it the Instagram photo?" Michaela asks quietly, mostly to herself — or at least, she's not intending for Jessica to hear her. "Is Baby Thor better or worse than Knock-Off Thor?"

"Better," he says after thinking it over for a moment. To Jessica, he says, "Not friends, then. Associates who occasionally work together despite their vast differences."

Leather groaning again, Jessica's boots hitting the pavement hard as she closes the distance between them. Matt lowers a hand to his baton. "You two can play Wonder Twins all you want, alright? I'm not interested in the whole playdate thing you've got going on. I work alone. It's better for everyone that way."

"Can I just..."

Matt reaches out to snag Michaela by the arm but she bats his hand away, stepping out in front of him so that she's intercepting Jessica. Her braid whispers over her shoulder and back and he figures she's turned to look at him, most likely glaring. His mouth flattens out. He agreed to come here because he didn't think Jessica would present herself as a threat to the two of them. They're on the same side, essentially, and it's better to make allies than enemies with other enhanced individuals. But if Jessica wants to make this a fight, Matt isn't going to just stand by and let it happen.

Michaela turns back around, plants her hands on her hips. Her own jacket squeaks minutely at the movement. Matt tracks her heartbeat as she goes on, because the second her anxiety ratchets up he's dragging her back to their turf whether she appreciates it or not.

"Jessica, I respect that," Michaela says. Matt turns his head slightly, listening as she fumbles for something in her pocket. The phone? "I do. We don't need to be buddy-buddy for this to work. I'm not asking for weekly meetings and sleepovers, we're not gonna be braiding each other's hair. This is just... a life preserver, or. A last resort if you really want it to be. You work alone, that's fine, I'm not gonna be barging into your office to take up your time with bullshit. But if you ever need help? Call one of us."

"I'd kinda have to trust you to want to call," Jessica says dryly. "And I don't know either of you. I also have trust issues. Go figure."

"I get it," Michaela says, her voice warmed with a hint of laughter, which — given the way Jessica twitches at that, hands tightening into the leather of her jacket — might not be the best course of action. But Michaela's on a roll now and far be it from Matt to put a halt to it. So long as the violence levels don't increase, he's alright letting Michaela handle the situation. "We're not at that level where we unlock each other's tragic backstories. We might never be on that level. But just take the phone. You can take it apart, if you want. It's not bugged or anything, no tracker, but you seem like the type of person who'd appreciate knowing that for yourself. So. Take it and do what you will with it. That's all I'm asking."

It's quiet for a solid half minute. No one's talking, anyway. Michael's scuffing her feet, a little twitchy now that she isn't trying to coerce Jessica into halfway allying herself with them. Jessica however is stockstill aside from the quiet grinding of her teeth. Then she moves forward and grabs the phone out of Michaela's hand, which Michaela clearly hadn't been expecting because she flinches, knocking her shoulders back into Matt. He steadies her, hands on her upper arms, and she mutters a quick thank you to him before straightening up again.

"One question," Jessica says. She's already flipped the back cover from the phone, so Matt guesses she's taking Michaela up on her offer to inspect the thing for bugs.

"Yeah?" Michaela says.

"Daredevil. Is he your bodyguard or...? The relationship here seems unorthodox." There's a warning edge to her tone that Matt can't quite decipher, but he picks up pretty quickly that she likes Michaela more than she does him. He's not sure why but he's also not surprised.

Matt smiles and shrugs, feigning nonchalance. It's worked well enough for him in the past, even better with the people who know he's blind. There's only so many ways to appear unthreatening while decked out in a devil-themed combat suit, though, and he can't read how well it's working with Jessica. "We're partners," he says, which gets an interesting reaction out of Michaela, who's heart — which has been relatively steady since they got here — starts beating double-time in her chest. Because he said they were partners? That's—

He drops that line of thought for now and refocuses on Jessica. "We have the same goals. Help the people we can, protect the city we both grew up in. Try to do good in a world that desperately needs it."

"Oh, so you're the righteous asshole of the duo," Jessica says, and Michaela snorts, smacking both hands over her face like that's going to cover up the sound she's made.

Matt lets himself smirk, because that's nothing he hasn't heard before. "If we're the knock-off Avengers, I'm probably Captain America. I think that says enough."

"Thor, Captain America..."

"Spider-Man would absolutely love to be Iron Man," Michaela adds, now openly laughing into her hands. "I think he's got the tech skills to make it work, even."

"Spider-Man?" Jessica says, and Matt has a pretty reliable hunch that she's rolling her eyes. She sounds severely unimpressed. "That kid in the dorky costume from Queens?"

"I don't think either of us can really make a comment about his taste in costumes..." Matt says.

"I traded out the sweatpants, at least," Michaela mumbles, and Matt smiles, knocking their hands together in a show of solidarity. Her hand twitches at the contact. Matt's smile slips a little, though he doesn't say anything.

"Anyway," Michaela says, clearing her throat. "You'd like him, I think. Kid's hard not to like, honestly. He saved my ass already, so I'm willing to vouch for him."

Right. She hadn't told him, but Matt had heard about Spider-Man's death-defying catch a few weeks back, when Blackout fell out of the sky with seemingly no explanation for her appearance in Queens. He wishes she'd talk to him about it, but he also knows he hasn't been that forthcoming with his own personal problems lately — Matt Murdock hasn't gone for a snack run in quite a while, because both Matt and Daredevil have been heavily preoccupied with the Punisher and the shitstorm he brought with him. Matt almost didn't come with Michaela tonight because he's been trying to track the Punisher, but Foggy convinced him that going with Blackout (who Matt hasn't revealed as Michaela, because it's not his secret to share) would be good for him in the long-term. Alliances mean backup, he'd said, and with the Punisher, you can never have enough of that.

Not that Matt's planning on bringing Michaela in on that particular issue. She's good with her powers, and she'd be an asset for sure, but Frank is a man who shoots first and asks questions never; Matt's not letting him get within a mile of Michaela if he can help it.

"Oh! Shit, I do actually have a favor to ask of you," Michaela says, digging into the opposite pocket and producing a crinkling piece of paper. This is new; she hadn't mentioned this to Matt, either. He stays silent as she hands the paper over to Jessica. "I know it's... not a lot. It's barely anything. But this guy... I need to find him. He's been laying low lately, but I'm worried that doesn't actually mean he's inactive. There's been disappearances..."

"Yeah," Jessica says, low, smoothing out the paper. "Those I've heard about. I've had a few people come to me hoping I can find someone for them. There's no connection between the missing people, though."

"And there's no guarantee that this guy is involved, I know. But the first night I saw him, he was harassing this woman, and... fuck. I don't know. I have a bad feeling about it."

Jessica makes a low, considering noise, folding the paper over and stuffing it into her own pocket. "You're lucky detective work involves a shit ton of guesswork and gut feelings, otherwise I'd just think you're crazy."

"I'd rather that be the case," Michaela counters, but she's noticeably less tense now that Jessica hasn't dismissed her out of pocket. "But anything you can tell me... I'll pay you, obviously."

Matt frowns, knowing Michaela doesn't have the funds to hire a private investigator. School and rent eat up most of her income. He's about to interject, and say what he doesn't know, but Jessica says, "Nah, don't bother. I'm already looking into it, throwing you a bone won't cost me anything. You're helping me anyway, pointing me in a direction I hadn't considered before. Consider it a professional courtesy."

"Ah, okay, wow, that's—"

"Don't say nice. Just don't say anything about it, actually. I'll keep the phone and message you if anything comes up. That good enough for you, oh mighty Avengers?"

"That's perfect," Matt says, because Michaela seems like she's reaching her limit with this endeavor. She's more relaxed than she was, but the twitchiness hasn't abated. She acts differently as Blackout, more open and engaging with people, but he can tell it drains her to do so, and she's about ready to call it quits for the night. "Let us know if you ever need a hand. We're neighbors, after all."

"And this is just you two being neighborly. Right." To Michaela, she says, "I'll contact you with something eventually. I don't know about the hero thing, but I'm good at what I do."

"I trust you," Michaela says, completely sincere. It's not what Jessica was expecting to hear, but she doesn't say anything to dissuade Michaela, just slides her hands into her pockets and turns to leave. Michaela and Matt don't stop her, and soon her footsteps have faded from even Matt's hearing causal hearing range.

"Well," Michaela says, letting out a breath she'd been holding for the last few seconds, "that went better than I thought it was going to. She didn't throw me through any windows, for one."

Matt laughs, because that's what she'd been worried about on the way here? "We never even made it to her office. No windows to throw you out of out here."

"You're right," Michaela grumbles, "but I don't appreciate the tone. It was a valid concern! You've got the whole ninja thing going on, but my reflexes are shit. If she wanted to toss my ass out a window, she could've done it."

"Well, that didn't happen," Matt reminds her, subtly ushering her back towards their part of Hell's Kitchen. "We got lucky. She likes you."

"She does not. Didn't you hear her? She's got two friends and she's good with that."

"That doesn't mean she doesn't like you."

"Ugh, whatever. You're the charmer of the two of us, your stupid smile probably did it."

Said stupid smile spreads across Matt's lips. "What's so stupid about it?"

"Everything," Michaela says, deadpan. Then she shakes herself and says, "Okay, that's Jessica and Spidey, now we just need to convince Luke Cage."

"Let me worry about him," Matt says. "You've got your other secret manhunt going on, I can swing by Harlem and try to talk him into the idea."

Michaela pauses. Her hands scrape against one another; she's wringing them together, nervous, he realizes, and picks up on the change in her pulse at the same moment.

"Are you alright?" he asks, gripping her shoulder gently.

She sighs, nodding. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I swear. I just, uh. I'm not trying to exclude you from this thing with the — fuck, I call him a wizard but I really don't want to go into the reasons why I call him that. But you have a lot on your plate already, right? And I don't wanna add to that if it's something I can handle by myself."

"Hey, don't worry too much about that. That's what this whole vigilante buddy club is for, huh? You go it alone until you can't. Then you call for help. You've got Jessica on your side now, and the Spider kid. And you've had me. We'll be here when you need us."

"...you're very wise for a righteous asshole."

Matt grins. "There's a reason people listen to Captain America."

That gets her to smack his shoulder. "You're Knock-Off Captain America, not the real thing. You're persuasive, but not that persuasive. Captain Rogers could convince people to jump off a fuckin' cliff, okay? He wouldn't, but he could. You, on the other hand, you're barely managing to get me to agree to let you scout Luke Cage by yourself."

"So that's a yes to me going alone to Harlem?"

Another sigh. "It's a yes. Just be careful?"

"I can do that, as long as you promise the same while you're chasing your wizard."

"Yeah, of course, I do have some self-preservation skills." She pauses. "Enough, anyway." A slightly longer pause. "Actually, okay, I have more than you do, so there's that."

"That's not—"

"You wanna tell me about fighting all of Kingpin's goons again? Or the Russians? Or the fucking triads?"

"...point taken."

"Now that that's taken care of, let's head back. I'm exhausted and for once I wanna get back to my apartment before dawn. So lead the way, Daredevil."

Matt shakes his head, grinning, and does just that.