Demon Spawn and Career Choices
“For the last time, ma’am, we don’t sell hot meals and/or food,” Ella ground out, resisting the urge to bash her skull in against the counter. The day had started out semi-decently; the sun was shining, her leg actually felt normal, she had a breakfast that wasn’t cold pizza. The peacefulness had been blown to smithereens by this woman who had been harping on about the lack of hot meals for what felt like eons. Ella was about to spontaneously combust.
“You’re a convenience store, aren’t you? There’s nothing convenient about that,” the woman spat, ignoring her pint-sized monstrosity as it tugged mercilessly at the sleeve of her coat.
“Moooom, I want a hot dog,” the child whined, face ruddy, on the verge of a total meltdown.
“What kind of convenience store doesn’t at least have hot dogs?” the woman complained, placing one manicured hand on her hip.
“This one,” Ella said, smile tight, trying to keep the conversation civil, at the very best. “There’s a McDonald’s right down the street, though–”
“It’s ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!” the woman continued, almost screaming over Ella.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave–”
“Mooooom,” the child whined again, voice impossibly shrill.
“You need to get your business together, this is a disgrace–”
“Mom, I’m hungryyyy!” the child screamed, making Ella’s right eye twitch. The meltdown had commenced. If the woman didn’t leave immediately Ella was going to do something that she probably wouldn’t regret later.
“You need to take your demon spawn somewhere else before I–” Ella began, leaning slightly forward, hands balling into fists.
“Before you what?” the woman shot back, barely heard over the screeching of her child.
“Before you’re forcibly escorted out of the establishment,” a voice said, and Ella hurriedly peered around the woman to see…Foggy? She hadn’t even heard him come in. The woman whipped around, face flushing in anger.
“You can’t–”
“This is private property. I can and I will,” Foggy said, cool as a cucumber, hands folded behind his back.
“I’m taking my business elsewhere,” the woman sniffed, clearly perturbed, and Ella almost collapsed in relief. “Please, for the love of all that is good in this world, take your business to the edge of the earth and never come back,” she thought. With one last scathing look thrown at Ella, the woman marched out of the store, head held high, her kid stumbling along behind her.
“How’re you holding up?” Foggy asked, looking as relieved as Ella felt once the woman had exited the store. Hiking his messenger bag further up onto his shoulder, he walked over, coming to a stop in front of her. Ella fell heavily onto her stool, giving him a weary smile.
“Besides the visit from the demon spawn, I’m holding up as well as can be expected. Thanks for the save. Nice bullshit,” Ella sighed, and Foggy just shrugged, cheeks going the palest shade of pink.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, “you looked like you were about to launch yourself over the counter.”
“Oh, I was. I definitely was,” Ella acceded, crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter.
“So, what’s up– OH, I have your ten dollars!” Ella spun around, ripped open the cash register and then proceeded to proudly wave a ten dollar bill in front of Foggy’s face. “I completely forgot about the cab, even though I said I wouldn’t, but you’re here now, so here,” Ella rambled as Foggy reached up and took the money from her.
“Thanks,” he said, smile soft, and Ella had the sneaking suspicion that if she hadn’t remembered the I.O.U., he wouldn’t have brought it up.
“What brings you around these parts?” Ella asked, putting on a ridiculous and completely inaccurate southern accent.
“Just wanted to check up on you, you know, since the last time I saw you, you couldn’t really walk,” Foggy said, and Ella beamed.
“That’s really sweet, thank you,” Ella said, “my leg is doing a lot better. Doesn’t feel like it’s going to snap in half while I’m walking up the stairs.”
“That– that’s always good,” Foggy said, brushing a few stray locks of hair behind his ear. “Anyway… I had a… thing to ask you.” Ella raised a brow, gesturing for him to continue when it seemed like his tongue had turned to lead in his mouth. “Do you happen to know a, uh, Matt, by any chance?”
“I do,” Ella drawled, curiosity bubbling up in her chest. She squinted at Foggy, trying to piece together why he would be asking about Matt. Or, a Matt.
“Blind? Usually looks a little worse for wear in the ‘I fell down an open manhole’ way?”
“That’d be the one,” Ella replied with a wry smile. She was glad she wasn’t the only one who noticed. “Why? You know him?” Foggy quickly glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was in the store, before leaning in a little closer to Ella, face suddenly serious.
“Do you know abut the…thing?” Ella’s eyes narrowed, but she… trusted Foggy. She didn’t think he’d stab either her or the Matt in the back– either figuratively or literally.
“The ninja thing?” Ella whispered back, and Foggy’s eyes widened before he almost collapsed in relief.
“He’s going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” Foggy muttered, running his hand down his face.
“Don’t I know it,” Ella mumbled back, and she could see a great bond forming over Matt’s abject stupidity. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine– well, as fine as he can be, given his choice of profession,” Foggy said, “I just wanted to know if you knew. One less secret to keep, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” Ella said, Foggy rolling his eyes as she mimicked him.
“I need to get back to the office, I just wanted to stop by real quick,” Foggy said, snatching up a pack of BBQ chips and a couple candy bars, depositing a five dollar bill onto the counter in the process.
“Yeah, yeah, sure– wait, an office? Does Matt work in an office?” Ella said, their conversation about Matt’s actual job springing up from the recesses of her mind.
“We’re lawyers,” Foggy said, incredulous. “Matt didn’t tell you?” Ella bit down hard on her bottom lip, hands balling into fists and did a tiny flailing dance.
“I fucking knew it! I knew it, now I know why he’s so irritating, no offense, but a lawyer makes so much sense, right behind MMA fighter, and it compliments his sense of irony perfectly, wow, I can’t believe I didn’t see that,” Ella rambled, turning the full force of her ‘I just solved the world’s greatest mystery’ smile onto Foggy. He smiled back, laughing low in his throat.
“You kept his spleen inside his body but he didn't tell you what he does for a living?” Foggy asked, and Ella shook her head, her expression indicating that her mind had just imploded. “Here’s our card, so you can wave it in his face next time,” Foggy said, fishing a business card from out of his pocket.
“Oh my god, you do not realize what type of prank calls you’re going to get,” Ella said, tucking the card next to her register. In hindsight she probably shouldn’t have said that she’d be prank calling… didn’t leave a long list of suspects. Foggy only pinched the bridge of his nose in good natured exasperation.
“I’ll see you soon, Ella. Be careful? Please,” Foggy said, yet again hiking his bag further up onto his shoulder. It was perpetually sliding due to the smooth fabric of his suit jacket.
“Oh, like I’m not? Pshhh,” gesturing to her shoulder, which was almost fully healed, thank you very much. “Also, tell lawyer pants he better be with you next time.”
“I’ll be sure to relay the message,” Foggy said, flashing her one more smile before walking out into the chaos of the Hell’s Kitchen lunchtime rush.
~~~~
The night was unusually quiet on Ella’s walk back to her apartment. Ever since the ‘incident’, she’d been hyper vigilant on her journey home. Ears tuned to screeching tires, eyes darting around in search of rogue headlights. She pulled her coat a little tighter as a car passed, muffler whining a little loudly but otherwise inconspicuous. Ella sighed, breath visible in the chilled air. When the temperatures dropped this drastically, Ella’s leg had a tendency to act up. The dead of winter was slowly approaching and with it colder and colder days. Christmas lights littered buildings here and there, but most of Fisk’s construction stopped any real holiday cheer from spreading. Skeletons of apartment complex’s and small businesses lined the streets, plastic tarps flapping in the wind. “Festive,” she muttered, rounding another corner.
By the time she’d made it to her apartment, she was near frozen to the bone, fingers verging on numb. She’d have to make a stop into the Coat Warehouse and invest in something a little warmer. She dropped her keys twice attempting to unlock the front gate, curses fumbled around her quivering lips. “Summer, you fucking traitor,” she spat, slamming the gate behind her and taking to the stairs. The walk up still winded her but it was bearable now– she no longer had to stop every two steps to accommodate her leg. Upon reaching the top, she paused, eyes closed, head dipped toward her chest as she steadied her breath. “One, two, three, four, five… five, four, three, two, one,” she counted, inhaling and exhaling. Ella then opened her eyes, and promptly dropped her keys for the third time that night.
A man stood in front of her door, hands hanging at his sides, face shielded underneath the hood of a black sweatshirt. He wore run down jeans, hands shoved into his pockets. The hallway light flickered, and the man became approximately eighty thousand times more ominous. Ella placed once foot down onto the step behind her, ready to bolt. Not that she’d admit that. “I’m going to give you to the count of three to stop skulking in front of my door like an edgy Darth Vader,” she spat, one hand gripping the railing, other tightening around her purse strap in case she needed to swing.
“Or what?” the man asked, not quite amused, not quite malicious. Ella’s blood ran cold at the voice, every muscle locking into place.
“Or… or…” Ella mumbled, mind utterly and completely blank.
“Or… broom?” the voice quipped, soft, as if afraid of falling any farther into lightheartedness; as if afraid of her reaction. The accent was unmistakable. The universe started up again with a physical lurch and Ella practically leapt into Vladimir’s arms, fingers digging deep into his hoodie, purse hitting the ground with a thump. The tears were instantaneous, running hot and fast down her cheeks, a sob wrenching its way up from her gut. She had so much she wanted to say, “you’re an asshole”, “why’d you leave”, “I hate you”, “I missed you”, but no words came. Vladimir returned her embrace, grip tight enough to bruise, but Ella ignored her achey ribs, her shoulder, the fact that she was probably getting snot all over his clothes. She tried to fight through her tears to speak, but found herself continually failing as the moments stretched on. Vladimir was the one to break the silence.
“I know,” he whispered, in response to everything left unsaid between them, “I know.” It was an understanding, it was a truce; it was enough.