Blurry Vision ∷ Daredevil; Matthew Murdock

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Edited 3/4/2018

Chapter 3

I woken up by a rather loud knocking at the door. Who the fuck would be up at this early? I didn't go to sleep until six, so it's either eight or nine, and I'm not having it.

Scrambling to run to my door, I'm too groggy to remember I need to put on a shirt; and I don't realize until after I finally get the door open my face heats up extremely. Fuck.

I stare at Captain America who seems to be mirroring my expression. Fuck.

"At least you have pants on." He points out making me blush even further. Fuck.

"Why are you here? In my home... in the morning. On a Saturday...." I ask, attempting to brush off the fact that I'm standing in front of fucking Captain America with my curly mess of bed hair, a bra, and dark sweatpants that hang way too low along my waist.

"To tell you that we caught you tangling with a vigilante." He says, as we have a super intense staring contest.

"Shit, am I not going to be able to re-enroll?" I ask slightly disappointed.

He laughs and looks away from me momentarily, "No, actually the opposite. Fury said you reminded him a lot of Agent Romanoff." I nod my head, still embarrassed about what is happening. This probably won't help his thoughts.

We stand in a few moments of awkward silence before I break it, "Can I possibly invite you in for a cup of coffee- or tea or something?"

"Coffee would be nice." He says rather quickly as he files inside after me.

I walk into the kitchen, Rodgers trailing after me, and get a look of myself in the reflection of the fridge- okay... I could look worse—but this still is not the thing to open the door to Captain America. God no, he's practically my supervisor as I hear.

I fill up the brewer and turn to see him checking out my pistol that is sitting on the counter. He looks up and smiles, "You are never living this down." I turn back around to avoid his stare.

"Please don't tell anyone." I say, cringing and my face heating up as I cross my arms over my exposed stomach. At least it's something that resembles a sports bra.

"I won't, but didn't you get the email?" He questions curiously and I catch his eyes running over me as I look back at him.

"No, and I'm guessing it's just bullshit about how they are 'Dearly dismayed by my rejection of reentry.'" I mutter slightly while grabbing a mug and a styrofoam cup to fill with coffee.

"No no, you definitely made it. Except, this time around, you are working for the recruiting part of SHIELD." I roll my eyes and pour the burning liquid into each of our containers.

"Recruiting? I'm almost 100% positive that I have never had any training for recruiting." I tell him while passing the styrofoam one over to him.

"That's the point," He says, while taking it and drinking a bit.

"The point? So I jump in blind and basically Jehovah's Witness these unsuspecting criminals and ex-army soldiers?"

He can't help but crack a smile at my comment, "Basically, and if they don't come by choice, some must come by force-"

"Now!" I interrupt rather excitedly, "Now you are speaking my language."

He gives my place another glance around before walking towards the exit, "And your first order of business is to track down the 'Devil of Hell's Kitchen.'"