Mick's Bar in the Kitchen

July 14, 2014 Things get steamy between business associates.

Mick's Bar — Hell's Kitchen

A dive bar that Matt's frequented for years.



  • Mick

Mood Music:
[*<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKsZuNxhQVo> Alone Again Tonight Or by Calexico]


Welcome to a dive bar in the Hell's Kitchen section of New York City. The stools look like they're from the seventies as do the fixtures that hang everywhere. About the only thing new is the pool table, which is in immaculate condition.

Across from the bar, and the tender who is tatted up to the gills with a shaved head and patchwork facial hair, is a set of booths, one of which Matt is sitting in. She said something less formal. If that's what she wants, she's certainly got it. He's wearing blue jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt. Across from him sits Mick, the owner of the bar.

"You drinkin' alone tonight, Matty?"

"Nah, I'm meetin someone."

"A girl then?"

"Why you say that?"

"Cuz no one says someone when it's the same sex, Matt. They something like, 'I'm meetin' Joey here."

"You got me, Mick."

"She cute?"

"Wouldn't know."

"They're always cute."

"Course they are."

Mick slaps his friend on the shoulder and makes his way towards the back of the bar, leaving lil Matty Murdock with a brown bottle of beer and some peanuts.

Lara looks like she actually fits in when she steps through the door. That could be because she rode her bike to the bar, and is thus wearing leathers over her tank tops and jeans. She has her hair braided back and it falls over her shoulder as she looks around for Matt. Spotting him, she grins at seeing that he can wear things other than suits, of both the spandex and lawyer variety. She crosses to his booth and slides in. "Matthew. Nice place. Not likely to be bothered by paparazzi here." She sets her helmet on the seat beside her.

Matt knows it's her before the door opens and smiles a bit to himself as she slides in. "Haven't yet. Home sweet home. I think Mick would bust a pool cue over anyone's head who brought a live camera in here. What do you want to drink? I'm buying."

"A beer is fine, bottled please," Lara requests as she shrugs out of her jacket. It's hot out, but no one wants to crash on a motorcycle without a heavy bit of something between their skin and the pavement. "You're a regular I take it?" she asks. Of course he is. He can't see the decor.

Matt motions towards the bartender who grab two bottled micro-brews. Matt may be from the Kitchen, but that's not a reason to drink bad beer. "Yeah, my dad used to take me here on Sundays and Wednesdays when he used to shoot pool. Back then they had a grip of video poker machines I used to win money on now and again." His shoulder shrug a bit, "I'm not able to come in here as much as I like to, but everyone's gotta have their place. This one's mine."

"Before we were interrupted by my secretary, you were telling me about your family."

"Ah yes, my family," Lara demures. She sips her beer and carefully wraps a cocktail napkin around it to keep herself from getting condensation on her hands. "Richard Croft was the 10th Earl of Abbingdon. He and my mother took me on many of their expeditions, the ones they deemed safe. I was at boarding school when they went missing and presumed dead on one such excursion."

Matt's about to make a crack about being out with a princess, but as she continues on it gets serious pretty darn quickly. He holds one elbow with the other hand as he listens to her comments. "Implication would be that it wasn't safe. Other one is you say presumed. What happened?"

"Presumed is what they say when they do not recover any bodies, Matthew. You know that as a lawyer," Lara points out. She sighs. "They were en route to an undisclosed location in the Himalayas when their plane crashed." She looks across the table at him, though he likely can't read much of her without being able to see. "He may have been looking for Shambhala, or perhaps the yeti. Father was very interested in things that are not altogether natural."

Matt nods, "So you never did find them." People won't divulge information if you ask directly, but many won't pass up the opportunity to correct them. "I imagine you've searched quite a bit. I'm so sorry." Even as the words come out, it's the polished portion of Matt. The real one kicks himself inwardly, knowing that people always say they're so sorry. As a kid who lost his parents, he knows how it is.

"Were you able to gather any information on what happened?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. I've sent people out to search for evidence of the crash or my parents, but those mountains are completely unnavigable in many areas. They haven't turned up any evidence." Lara sips her beer again. "What about you, tell me more about Matthew Murdock."

Matt was going to ask how old she was, but lets it go as she changes the subject. "Matthew Murdock," he says with a sigh and then a grin. "That's a complex question with changing answers depending on who you ask." After a sip of beer he asks, "What would you like to know? You already know my biggest secret, so you pretty much get free reign on anything else."

"Girlfriend? Wife? Or are you and Mister Nelson a couple?" Lara asks, wryly. She leans back in the booth, relaxing, something he likely hasn't seen in her posture before.

"Neither. Currently." Matt shakes his head ruefully, "You know, Foggy keeps asking but I'm just not ready to commit. He chuckles and turns back towards her, "What about you? Girlfriend? Wife? I'm assuming not because you're on a date with a single guy and he just bought you a beer." He takes another sip and nods, "That makes it an official date. Sorry. You fell for it."

"Oh dear, I've fallen into a date. Whatever shall I do?" Lara asks with a chuckle. "But no. I haven't had much luck in that department. Either I'm seen as too intimidating due to my intellect, or too busy due to my life, to have much social interaction. Or perhaps my butler is just offing all potential suitors who don't meet Croft standards." That last is a joke. Probably.

"Somehow I got through. Either Winston likes me or he's slipping. And it's a good thing I don't intimidate easy and I'm likely close to as busy as you are," Matt chuckles a bit before giving an upwards nod. "You seem like a shot girl. You wanna do a shot?"

"Shots I can do. Whiskey?" Lara asks. Of course she asks for whiskey, she's British. They don't like those foo foo shots. "I have to warn you, Matthew, my prior, ah, romantic interests haven't come out of our relationship unscathed." If at all. They have a bad habit of dying on her.

"What a coincidence. Mine either." The one that has been relatively unscathed turned out to be a former KGB assassin; go figure. But, knowing Lara, she probably picked up on that two. "Round of whiskey shots. Something nice, Mick." Before long, the shots are in front of them. "What do you want to drink to?" he asks.

Lara takes up a shotglass. "To Rhys, who loved his women and his whiskey as much as his relics," she declares with a sad smile.

"To Rhys," Matt says as well, looking a bit sad. Though he didn't mention it to Lara, he was quite close to Rhys too. That's how he became his lawyer. While waiting for Lara, he downs the whiskey and makes a slight face as he sets the glass down softly.

Lara tosses back her shot as well, not even flinching. She spent a great deal of time on the salvage vessel Endurance, with her pseudo-father Conrad Roth. The woman can drink. "Another round? I think I've earned a night to not be in absolute control of everything."

"Well you warned me, so I guess I should warn you. I become downright irresistable after a few drinks." Within moments, there's another round on the table along with a couple of beers. "What else do you want to know?" he asks as the drinks come.

"Really? I found you rather irresistible without the alcohol. Although I do have my concerns about finding my lawyer irresistible. Business and pleasure and all that," Lara quips. She tilts her head a bit, studying him. "Do you ever take off your glasses?" she asks. She knows that some people wear them because their eyes are not pleasant to look at, or they fear people will find their lack of focus disturbing.

"Well, I can quit if you want me to. Foggy will be pissed because you're a good client and pay your bills. Not all of them can say that," Matt chuckles. "The more I get to know you the more I like you," he replies. "You're right so much of the time." At the question of the eyes he shrugs, "I took a bit of acid to the face as a kid so I don't often take them off. But what the hell." He pulls them off and right away she'll notice that he can focus fine, perhaps because of his other senses. There's slight scaring at the sides of his eyelids and across each of the eyes, with only bits of the original color remaining. What's left looks like a grey stain.

Lara looks at him, and she reaches a hand across the table to trace the scarring. "We all have scars, Matthew, some less visible than others. Some are on the inside." She has plenty on the outside from her adventures. One drawback of not having super powers is you don't get to heal up without reminders of your traumas. "Perhaps I could make Foggy my primary lawyer, and I'd feel a little better," she teases.

"Oh," Matt says with a laugh, "I know he'd love that." As her hands touch his face his eyes nearly close; his sensitivity to touch is as superhuman as his senses of smell or hearing and it seems he enjoys her hand on him. "I'm not afraid of my scars. The ones on my eyes or otherwise. What about you?"

"I wear my proudly. Fortunately none of my enemies aimed for my face." Lara grins and draws her hands back. "I'm sure my back would be a veritable contour map for you, being so sensitive. Bullets, blades, arrows, claws, fangs - I'm a study in textures," she quips.

Matt chuckles at her as he reaches down for his glasses, "If I say that I look forward to it, that's going to make me sound pretty creepy isn't it? Better get another shot." Mick comes by again, dropping off another set and collecting the old glasses. "I didn't know archaeologists got into so much trouble. You. Bale. Indiana Jones."

"We live dangerously, and vicariously, Matthew. We are never certain we'll have another day. Carpe Diem." Lara sips her beer and props her chin in her hand to study him. "I've swum with sharks, but I never slept with a lawyer. How is that possible?"

"Because you never met me," Matt says with a grin before downing the next shot. "Didn't know what you were missing till you stopped to think about it, I imagine." He folds his arms over each other and smiles at her with a — pardon the term — devilish smile. "It's okay, I've never slept with an archaeologist before."

"Well then, we might both get to try something new," Lara notes. That might be permission to take her home with him. She watches him as she drinks her shot, and her eyes hold promise. Too bad he can't see them.

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