All the Colours between Us *Matt Murdock*Daredevil*Damned*

Blue - Loyalty

-.-.- Jessica whispering in the background, echoing her words from 'All Roads Lead to Hell': I told you not to send me a wedding invitation! -.-.-

...

loyalty [ˈlɔɪ.əl.ti], noun – faithful adherence to a sovereign, government, leader, cause, etc.

-.-Jessica-.-

"Jessica Jones being the wedding photographer. Will the wonders ever cease?"

The P.I. was not amused and the look she gave her sister at the annoying note was speaking volumes. Especially because Trish knew how much Jessica hated being called out on her bullshit.

So what, maybe she thought some people deserved a happy end, even when one of them was running around in BDSM costume and the other had to be a fucking saint to tolerate that.

So what, if she was a bit flattered that they had thought of her, the bride fucking blushing when asking her, promising to serve her coffee for free for the rest of their lives for free if Jessica said yes.

That girl – and she would always be a girl to Jessica, because despite the shit she had been through, the girl was somehow staying naïve and innocent in her eyes – even stated right there that she didn't want many artificial strained photos. No, the bride wished for candid photos and Jessica, doing what she was for living, was believed to have a perfect eye for the right moments to take those.

Flattery would get people nowhere with Jessica Jones, but damn, Murdock's girl was good.

"Are you kidding me, Walker? I worked my ass off to keep these two reckless idiots alive long enough for them to actually get married. I'm taking photos of this. It's my biggest success so far," she grumbled, side-eyeing her sister as she thought of one bigger success of hers. "Well, apart from not killing Iron Clad when he tried to hug me."

"Oh, you too? Which one of them did you save?" a ridiculously thin guy, total baby-face, asked as he appeared by their side seemingly out of thin air.

"And who the hell are you?" Jessica demanded wryly.

"I'm Barry. Allen," he grinned, offering a hand for them to shake. Jessica watched it with distrust, while Trish accepted it and nudged her sister with her elbow to follow her example.

"Trish Walker."

Who was this guy again? He was awfully cheery – like Danny-Rand cheery. What was his deal? Did he have an Iron Foot? Did he kick a mermaid on his crusade or something?

"Jessica Jones..." she offered reluctantly, eyeing him up again, re-evaluating his claim and considering whether she should share her own escapades with the soon-to-be-newlyweds. Perhaps she should. It might get him more open and easier for her to read. It was possibly a half-public secret by now anyway. "And both, I guess. Though Vera more directly – I just happened to be passing by when she was being strangled by some ninja asshole and I took it personally."

"Cool!" the kid cried out enthusiastically. When they looked at him, puzzled and slightly outraged at his sentiment, he quickly made a face. "I mean, awful."

"How did you meet?" Trish wondered with a charming I-like-all-people smile.

The overgrown child with shoe-size at least 13 scratched the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed.

"Uhm... well, Vera got kidnapped after saving my friend's life. We took it personally. And Matt came to us for help, so there was that..."

Oh. So they had met during Fisk's great comeback. That was... surprising. Jessica looked Barry up once more, less judging.