Damned If I Do *Matt Murdock* (book one of Damned)

Of Richards, slaps and religious issues (Tony Stark)

Tony was tired. He was working on the microchip for two days straight and one of the fucking circuits kept... well, short-circuiting. Someone was popping up in his lab from time to time to remind him to at least drink. Tony, the good friend he was, didn't want his buddies to worry, so he obeyed and drank coffee every single time they stopped by.

For now, it was Steve by his side, eyeing him with concern.

"Tony, you should rest. You continue like this, you'll end up blowing this place up," he pressed to his non-existent responsibility.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Please. With this microchip? Nah."

Steve sighed as a sign of resignation. Tony knew Cap didn't understand shit about what he was creating with his capable hands – all the new tech was still too complicated for the living fossil, even though he tried his best.

"Mr.Stark? Sir? Were you expecting any visitors today?" a polite British voice asked. Jarvis.

Tony frowned, trying to remember – he barely recalled what day was today – eyes turning to the ceiling with the effort. "I don't know, Jarvis. Probably not. Is someone waiting for me?"

"Yes, sir. A young woman. She's demanding a meeting with you."

He could literally hear Steve's judgement. So he used to be sleeping around a little – it wasn't a crime. He was desired. But Tony had always made very clear he didn't want to be bothered again. And he was... careful. About creating mini-Tonies. Besides, it was all in the past.

"Why?" he asked his AI.

"She claims it's about the religious issues in Hell's Kitchen you expressed your concerns about."

"What the hell?" he exclaimed bewildered. Was it some kind of a prank? Was Barton bored or annoyed with Tony's constant effort to make this world a better place, recently by inventing a faster operating system, so he paid some woman to bug him?

"Who is she? Show me the cameras, Jarvis."

"Yes, sir."

The floating picture of the reception desk appeared on his right. Steve took a step back since he was in the middle of the projection.

Tony was unimpressed. Sure, the girl was pretty enough – not top model-slim, but still pleasantly lean, quite tall, nice legs. Long black hair. Face? Nah. Nothing special. Also, too young for him. Barton would know better. This wasn't his doing.

"She introduced herself as Dianne Inn Ferni," Jarvis informed him and Tony's eyebrows shut up.

"Really?"

"Isn't inferno the Latin word for Hell?" asked Steve at the same time.

"It is indeed, Mr. Rogers."

"Run her through the facial recognition," Tony ordered while watching the girl fidgeting with a short black scarf around her neck nervously. Who the hell was she?

"Her name is Veronika Macháčková. Born in Trutnov, Czech Republic. 7.2.1995. No degree or record of being a student at the moment, dropout from Faculty of Medicine in Prague's Charles University after two successfully finished years. Resident of NY Hell's Kitchen for about two months. Working as a bartender at My Daily Dose of Caffeine, local café. No criminal record, but she appeared in police reports – she was held hostage in a bank robbery and kidnapped. Saved by the local vigilante known as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen both times. Do you wish me to show you the security footage from the bank, sir?"

Tony's interest spiked when he heard the mention of the Devil – they were monitoring his activities for months now, considering asking him to join the team. He seemed to be a lone wolf though, too focused on his own little playground, so they hadn't approached him. Yet.