The Universe's Mixer

Matt had agreed to meet Effie for a lunch meeting since it had taken a little bit longer for him to gather and process the documents than he had expected. An unfamiliar court system could be a pain, but he was easy enough to get along with and by the end of everything Matt had made a few good friends. He had not expected to bump into Steve Rogers, that was a blessing that had come when Matt had really needed it. And now once Effie had chosen her path with her marriage, Matt would be free to represent her father to the best of his ability. Which kind of made him sick, but he wouldn't think about it.

His mind wandered to Rose. He missed her already. The environment at the office was much more comforting to him because he knew it. He knew Paulina would be filtering the phones and door traffic like she always did, keeping out the unwanted riffraff. Laurel would be in her office next door working and Rose...well, Matt always looked forward to any moment in the day when she could escape her own duties and pop in to see him. Even if it was for only a minute. He had grown fond of their lunch hours together, too, even if it was filled with the same orange chicken. He didn't mind. The point was seeing her, hearing her talk and laugh. And after that night at his apartment his feelings for her had grown.

Now Matt was standing in the foyer at a small cafe that served brunch, lunch and dinner options. He was waiting on Effie to arrive, so they could finish their business. It was one case he wanted entirely off of his desk.

A hand was curled around the handle of the briefcase, and he glanced out of the window as if he could see the traffic on the street. This was a perfect spot to do business, it was quiet and private for the most part, and the food was good from what he'd heard. Entertaining clients was never really his thing, he always represented the small people. But he supposed it was a nice change.

After checking on his charges, making certain they had everything necessary to eat and rest, Steve headed back out, this time heading for Arkham Asylum. He didn't like the place, given his last trip there, but he had to return Harleen's car and keys, and pick up his bike. He also wanted to thank the woman for her help. She'd mentioned she was being framed, so he wanted to be sure she wasn't in any further danger from it.

He gave his name at the desk this time, waiting to be announced. The shield had been left home, but in his pocket was her bundle of keys, and he carried a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Women still liked flowers, right? The florist had assured him that it was appropriate, but her smile had suggested it might still be a little old-fashioned.

Oh, well. Steve Rogers was the very definition of old-fashioned in this age. Coulson had said it first. Maybe it was still something that was needed.

Steve declined to sit, waiting in a relaxed position, hands (and flowers) tucked behind his back.