a day off or an off day?

The second-hand of the wall-hung atomic clock ticked the seconds away as the hour hand struck 7 AM. Faint beams of golden sunlight stabbed through the blinds and onto the ceramic tile floor. The sounds of a city rising to the streets flowed in through the very walls, seeping into the otherwise relatively silent Heroes For Hire Inc. HQ. Misty paced to and fro, heels clicking as she stepped. Daredevil, Powerman, and Black Widow stood around in the room as well. In the very center of the small vacant office sat Tommy Kent in a folding chair.

"so, then who would Hammerhead want to take out next?" Daredevil asked, toying with his red baton.

"I haven't got the slightest. I'm surprised Hammerhead's even wasting his time with the small-fry. Me and those teens with the knives, the flashing blade. We're small-time. If I was him I'd be after bigger game." Tommy confessed.

"You couldn't handle bigger game, Tommy." Black widow mocked.

"Hardy-har-har, Darling. You gonna keep busting my balls all night? I don't know nothing. I already told ya." Tommy spat at her.

Tommy had already spent the last 6 hours in that very chair, in the closed offices of Heroes For Hire for his interrogation. Once the monster and assassin had disappeared in that strange blue light Daredevil and Black Widow had quickly snuck Tommy to the company's Headquarters. There they could house him in protective custody from Hammerhead's goons, whom alot of Tommy had made enemies of. If anyone wanted to get to Tommy they would have to bring their fight to them, and fight on their turf. It also provided with relative privacy to question him and corroborate each other's stories and discover what really happened that night. A vacant office had been transformed into Tommy's makeshift holding cell. The file cabinets removed, and replaced with a single military cot, a television with cable, and a folding chair. Until Hammerhead was locked up, the book safely returned, and Tommy's life was safe this room would be his new home, from which he could not leave. Unless of course he wanted Daredevil to drag him back.

Misty had been stuck at Starky's dealing with the police that reported on the scene. Performing interviews and being temporarily held by police had kept them disposed of for hours. But, after all the statements were made the incident reports filed the two were free to go. The two of them then made there way to HQ where they suspected their quarry had been transported.

"Where's Hammerhead like to hang out?" Daredevil probed.

But, Tommy had become a quite willing informant against the man he believed responsible for the attempt on his life. "the only place i know about is this speakeasy themed bar he's got, The Roarin 20's. It's not so far, lower east side. We used to go there on Fridays and play poker in the back. It's where i met his old lady."

With every discovery made in the case it seemed more and more apparent that Hammerhead was in fact the criminal behind the theft and now all these gang killings. As they had been making their escape with Tommy there had been the attacker in the alley. He had shrouded the alley with some strange unnatural darkness. It had settled onto Natasha's skin almost like a layer of fabric. A dense darkness. However, Matt recalled the overheard interview between Marc and Foggy as well as the testimonies of the theft. This strange darkness had also been in the Met when the book had been stolen. Being a powerful figure within his own branch of the Maggia, Hammerhead very rarely ever had to get his own hands dirty. It seemed likely that whomever he had hired to steal the book was continuing under the employ of the crime-boss. It also seemed Hammerhead had gained a rather powerful ally. Daredevil told his companions of how the figure who had attacked them in that alley was blind, but could somehow much like he could. This proved quite a strange development.

But, there were still the monsters that had somehow appeared out of thin air in each attack. They were involved with Hammerhead's plot, but from where did they come from? How were they magically appearing in that strange blue light. Tommy seemed to believe that the book itself had been what bestowed some form of gift onto Hammerhead. Given that even the curator of the Museum, Dr. Pride had known very little about the book Misty thought it best to look deeper into the stolen artifact. She asked that Luke look into it further and see what he could uncover. While Misty stayed indoors to monitor and protect their captive, Black Widow would be back out onto the streets trying to find Hammerhead.

Daredevil remembered the sounds of the clock, time ticking life away. "What time is it??!!" He asked, a frown messing up his face.

"About a quarter after 7." Luke answered.

Daredevil hauled off and punched a nearby filing cabinet. "Shit!!!" Matt shouted.

"What?" Misty asked, confused by the outburst.

"Marc!!! He's in court this morning!!" Daredevil exclaimed. "I'm late!!"

-

Matt had changed out of his hardened leather Daredevil armor and into a spare yet simple black suit-and-tie affair. He stored his costume in one of the rear equipment rooms in the offices of Heroes For Hire. In a rush he tied his tie, throwing the cloth about his neck in a hurry. He tied his loafers and then gave himself a final pat down to make sure he seemed presentable. He walked for the front door, when Luke's voice called out to him. "Hey, Matt!"

Matt turned his body to the direction of Luke's voice and heard the sound of wind whooshing as something he had thrown lightly flew towards Matt. He caught his pair of rose-colored glasses in his hand. "You dropped those." Luke said.

"Thanks." Matt gasped and then bobbed out the front door and onto the New York streets. After leaving Heroes For Hire and only walked a block before turning into the alleyway and beginning to climb a fire escape. He was within a very short time frame to make it to the courthouse, so he would need to avert the hundreds of people already clogging the streets. Not only were the rooftops faster, but it was also more fun.

-

In the kitchen of his penthouse suite, atop a stool at the kitchen counter in little but his underwear and a pair of socks Peter Parker scooped spoonful after heaping spoonful of cereal into his mouth, eyes locked onto the tv screen mounted on the wall. A VNN news broadcast had caught his attention:

"MORE MONSTER MURDERS!!!" the anchorman's voice menacingly intoned. "This just in it appears just last night New Yorkers were struck again in a violent attack! The incident occurred at a Lower East Side Pool Hall known as Starky's. According to police Starky's is a dangerous gang hangout with a violent criminal past. It's certainly living up to it's reputation, for last night a large brawl took place resulting in extensive property damage. Witnesses report to have seen Metahuman individual and former Avenger Power-man. Witnesses also attest to the presence of 'Frankenstein' dueling against Power-Man. As well as some form of 'Creature cloaked in darkness'. Until the police have a suspect in custody they refuse to entertain speculation about these strange beings. When asked about monsters being in his city our mayor James Jonah Jameson had but a few things to say 'Oh, Hogwash! Not again!'."

As Peter slurped down the dregs of milk at the bottom of his bowl he reached for his cell phone that sat nearby on the counter. Swiping away dozens of notifications for later he activated his contacts archive and began searching for the number to Heroes For Hire Inc.

-

Matt burst into the courtroom, clearly dishevelled. The members of the audience turned to watch him tap his cane down the aisle as he hurried towards the defendants booth of the court. The swinging doors between the audience and the court smacked loudly against his metallic cane as he pushed through it and quickly took a seat next to Foggy Nelson who stood addressing the court. On the opposite side of Foggy sat Marc Spector in shackles and his jailhouse jumpsuit.

Foggy took annoyed acknowledgment of the late arrival of his partner, but could not allow the disruption to interfere with his duties to Mark as a client. "May it please the court my name is Fogwell Nelson, and i have been self-appointed for the legal defense of a sort of appellee in this case, Mr. Marc Spector. Your honor, your court should affirm the decision of the Supreme Court and the statutes regarding vigilantism post the enactment of the Superhuman Registration Act or 'the peoples of Stamford vs. The State of Connecticut', and grant my client release or drastic reduction of the charges."

"What are the ties between Mr. Spector and,  who you say nay be a potential third-party culprit and the victims of this case who may say wish for the court to permit the admission of hearsay evidence?" The judge asked rifling through tons of paper assorted on his stand.

"Well, your honor i believe there are two interests to that. The first is that it was only assumed that Mr.Spector had the motive, means, and opportunity to commit the principle theft charge when he in fact had none of those just moments prior, and he seemed to act as a guilty party would and even expressed feelings of guilt in the aftermath of the crime. The second answer to your question is that in regards to the statements that were made by my client ,which were or are really the only hearsay evidence that we are talking about here, i would assert that those are not hearsay at all! In that it is not offered for the truth of the matter in certainty. The connecting links go to what little evidence is held that presents Mr.Spector to be the culprit of this crime." 

"So, then are you immediately entering a plea of not guilty?"

"Well, your honor, i cannot argue the fact that he did indeed escape from Ravencroft's institution, i can argue the intent behind said escape. The intent and motive behind the escape from Ravencroft's as well as my client's own 'hearsay' evidence contributed to the New York Police department however vindicate him of any of the allegations regarding the theft.  The theft of course, i can and will argue and am in fact submitting an immediate plea of not guilty." Foggy retorted.

The courtroom stenographer clacked away at her keys, as paperwork was passed and signed between the defendant, the prosecutor, and the judge.

"Your honor, in response to the defendant's request of the acquittal or reduction of these charges we suggest a refusal. The defendant, Mr. Spector was in clear disobedience of the law in all recorded and documented accounts of the incident in question. The New York district attorney's office would request the continuation of incarceration and the charges as currently held." The appointed prosecuting attorney read from his printed paper.

"Objection, your honor!" Foggy spat quickly. "With the submission of a not guilty plea to the theft and subsequent charges, i would like to refute the claims of disobedience or direct breaking of any laws in that ny client was acting to serve the law."

"Proceed…" the judge gestured, looking down his nose and to Foggy.

"My client, prior to the felony convictions that led to his admission and subsequent admission to the Ravencroft institute, Mr. Spector was in fact the masked vigilante known to the public as Moon Knight. During this time he had arrested or apprehended a number of high profile criminals. He had even be registered within the state of New York under the Superhuman registration act, and was the official 24th member of the Avengers Association. Given his status and position as an appointed agent of national security, via S.H.I.E.L.D. authorization Marc Spector is granted immunities from elements of the law that would impede his ability to perform his duties. My client was at the Met to stop a theft he had reason to believe would occur. The theft did in fact occur, but before my client, An Avenger could stop the true suspect he was arrested himself. The NYPD in direct violation of penal code involving the detention of an Avenger in an investigation. They were impeding justice."

"He still escaped the institution, even if he wasn't there to steal the book, by your logic any crazy within distance of the crime scene shouldn't be considered a suspect?" The prosecutor laughed.

"And by yours, any crazy who walks the street is a crook." Foggy spat back. He then turned and whispered to Marc. "Sorry about the crazy remark."

"No offense taken." Marc whispered back.

Foggy turned and shot Matt an angry glare, still perturbed by Matt's tardiness to the case he had wanted to take.

"I do note that the investigation of the theft is still pending." the judge said.

"Exactly. Because my client was not involved with the theft, and has no connection whatsoever to the crime besides his own investigation into the matter. Investigation he is entitled to as Moon Knight." Foggy explained.

"Your honor, the initial matter here is the violent escape from Ravencroft. Though the incident carries the lesser assortment of charges, it is duly noted that during his stay in the institution his tenure would be considered the same as medical or appointed leave and that his duties and authority as an Avenger would have been temporarily negated. He was in violation of those laws prior to the theft." the prosecutor reminded.

"No, and not so because he escaped attempting to perform his job. The staff and security at Ravencroft's may very well have been the factors directly responsible for fugitive thief still being at large." Foggy argued. "I will go onto say, given my client's skills and knowledge in regards to this case continuing to keep him detained may very well be impeding of justice itself as he has a wealth of knowledge as to the culprits who may be responsible."

"In review of your plea and request, i would ask what course of action exactly you would like to see the court take if your request were granted?"

"Well, i would ask that my client Marc Spector be released of his own recognizance pending the continuation of this trial and the pending investigation as no conviction can be made until the case is closed or admission of guilt has been made." Foggy stated.

"Objection, your honor, Marc Spector suffers from severe Mental disorders and does in fact have a long history of violence and now flight from custody."

"Then, leave Marc in the care of a doctor." Matt Murdock chimed in, jumping to aid Foggy. "Mr.Spector had long been a documented employee of the Heroes For Hire inc. Franchise as well as the Avengers for years. Given the Heroes For Hire company's current involvement in this investigation, to expedite the apprehension of the real thief we ask that he be released into the care of Heroes For Hire inc. Private Mental Health physician. So, he can help solve this crime and be kept on a leash so to speak."

-

Matt and Foggy stood together in front of the jailhouse, with Dr. Regina Worrows, the in-house therapist of Heroes For Hire inc. That would be providing therapy for Marc upon his release. Foggy had been granted his request by the judge and Marc Spector would soon be a free man once again. Him and Matt spoke in hushed tones.

"Where were you, Matt? Do you have any idea how unprofessional and embarrassing that was?" Foggy asked.

"I'm sorry, i was up late….unpacking." Matt said, thinking of the closest thing to the truth he could tell Foggy.

"And i didn't even really want you to be here for this Matt. It's not in our best interest for you to be involved with these vigilante cases. Everybody knows who you are." Foggy confessed.

"Hey, look, i was able to get Misty and the Heroes For Hire to vouch for Marc. Who knows if they would have let him out without someone responsible willing to foot the bill and take the blame if he does anything crazy again."

"True. But what if he does do something crazy again? What if he really is just some crazy?"

"You just put your career on the line getting him out of jail, Foggy. You've gotta believe he isn't, and that we're doing the right thing."

Through large double doors Marc Spector walked out of the detention center. He was released in the clothes he had been booked into the jail in. The flawless white three-piece suit, slightly splattered with blood and stained with dirt. The cane he carried was slightly bent. As soon as the sun beat down on him he squinted, readjusting to natural sunlight after days of artificial atmosphere. He lifted his head and smiled towards Matt and Foggy, recognizing them. He began slowly walking over to them languishing each step as it was the most he had been able to walk in days.

"You've gotta have faith, Foggy." Matt affirmed.

As Marc approached them he held out his hand to Foggy. "Thank you." he said.

-

"No, baby, it's all good. Danny and I just gotta take care of this thing. I'll have the car back soon." Luke Cage said into his phone, steering with one hand and talking to his wife with the other.

"Is that Jessica?! Tell her i said 'Hey!' and to kiss the baby for me." Danny Rand interjected from the passenger seat to Luke.

The two of them rode down one of New York's many packed streets in the Jones-Cage family minivan.

"Are you and him getting back together again?" Jessica asked over the line, the sound of Danielle giggling also carried over the receiver.

Luke Cage was bothered by that question. Him and Danny Rand had quite the history together. They had first met a very long time ago at a mutual friend's party. Hogarth had been throwing Luke Cage a celebration for his release from Seagate prison. A minor villain who had become enemies with Luke crashed the party, and Danny Rand who was in attendance jumped to Luke's aid and revealed his powers as The Immortal Iron Fist. He can channel and focus his chi to great ends, either empowering and strengthening his body to make himself a literal living weapon or using it heal himself and others as well as purge negative energy. From that point forward they developed an unbreakable fraternal bond and a beautiful rapport. They had seen everything with each other. When Danny Rand had disappeared and been presumed dead, through great error it had been Luke Cage who was believed to be responsible for his demise. However, Danny returned and fought for the honor of his friend and had him released once again from Seagate prison. Luke had even named his own daughter after his best friend, and named her Danielle. But, life had different things in store for the two of them. Luke was needed by his family and the Avengers as well as the new Thunderbolts team. He was always busy elsewhere. Whereas Danny had been called away to his home, the ancient forbidden city of K'un-L'un to defend it and embarked on many other adventures of his own and with other friends in the relatively unknown of mystic group The Defenders. This was the first time had even seen each other in months. Luke had found out Danny to find information about this strange book. A Madman's mutterings.

"No, babe, we are not back together. Just gotta take care of this thing for Misty, you know." Luke muttered quietly into the phone so Danny wouldnt hear.

"Tell Jessica i said 'howyadoin!'?" Danny asked Luke, his arm out the passenger window riding the wind.

"This thing? Okay-- Just remember, you're the one who keeps saying you don't want to get the whole band back together again." Jessica sounded skeptical.

"And i don't. This is just me and him doing what we gotta do and find out about this book." Luke assured.

"Ok, then go do it. I don't wanna see any pics of you guys together on his facebook. I love you." Jessica pleaded.

"Ok. I love you too, baby." Luke replied and hung up his cell phone, tucking it into his pants pocket. He wore a simple yellow t-shirt, black denim jeans, and combat boots.

"Did you tell her i said 'hey'?" Danny asked.

"You're sitting right there. You heard everything I said. Did you hear me tell her you said 'hey'?" Luke shot back.

"Why didn't you tell her?" Danny asked looking forlorn and crossing his arms. "We've got history, man. We're partners--best friends, Power Man and Iron Fist. And your wife doesn't even like me because you never pass along my friendly overtures."

"First of all, we aren't partners anymore. Besides, Jessica likes you just fine. She just prefers silent Danny over talking Iron Fist." Luke corrected.

"I don't even know what that means. Did she really say that? Does she really hate when i talk?" Danny asked, seeming hurt by the idea.

"No, man, Jessica doesn't hate it when you talk. She's just like me, in that she appreciates your silence more." Luke tried to rectify realising how he had made it sound worse.

"You hurt me, Luke." Danny said and pouted. "Deep down in my soul, it hurts--"

Luke reached his long arm out and tousled Danny's already messy hair. "Nobody loves you like i do, brother."

They both shared a smile and rode in silence for a few moments.

"So, scooping out something weird, huh?" Danny asked.

"Nah. Not really. Just helping Misty out with a bunch of fiddle-faddle." Luke answered.

Danny laughed. "What the hell is fiddle-faddle?"

-

A few weeks earlier it had been a lovely evening in the end of summer. Jessica Jones and Luke Cage had nestled under a blanket together on the couch in the living room of their house. Danielle contentedly played with her toys and cooed. The happy couple cuddled as the newest Pixar animation played on their television screen. At the perfect moment the two locked eyes and began to lean in for the sensual intimate kiss…

"Bullshit! Bullshit! Bull bullshit!" Danielle began yelling and laughing.

Jessica exasperatedly sighed and caressed Luke's face, "Luke, i love you sweetie but you have got to do something about all your swearing."

-

"Wow, Jessica keeps you on a short leash." Danny Rand commented.

Luke had parked his wives van down the street, and Danny and him got out to walk the rest of the way into Greenwich Village and the Sanctum Sanctorum. Civilians and children all excitedly snapped pics if the two walking down the street together on their phones and gossiped excitedly amongst each other. Danny waved as he walked along in his basketball jersey and skinny jeans, with a pair of hightop nikes.

"We're not talking about the relationship between me and my wife, we're talking about the fiddle-faddle favor I'm committed to."

"Bet you can't say fiddle-faddle favor five times fast!" Danny chuckled.

"Could you stop annoying the fiddle-faddle out of me? Could you do that?" Luke laughed.

"So, what am i supposed to ask Dr. Strange about again?" Danny asked seriously.

"A Madman's mutterings."

"You keep saying that like I'm supposed to know what that is."

"It's some book with mystical powers." Luke surmised.

"If this Madman's buttcheese has got mystical powers how come i don't know about it?"

"What?! It's called A Madman's mutterings. Why are we having this conversation?"

"I'm the poster-child of mystical powers. I fart mystical powers-- That's how much I've got mystical powers on lockdown."

"You fart mystical powers?" Luke stood still for a second and just gave Danny a judgemental look. Then continued walking. "See, this is why we ain't partners no more."

Eventually the Luke and Danny came to a stop in front of the Sanctum Sanctorum. The home and hospital of Doctor Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme and ultimate collector of mystic artifacts. The small manse sat plainly between ornate office buildings of various tech businesses. It was red brick, with jade trim, and onyx slat roofing. The windows were large and circular taking up half walls, but were curtained by broad tapestries. Doctor Strange had been the most successful, wealthy, and genius neurosurgeon in North America. Following an unfortunate accident he lost the use of his hands to severe nerve and psychosomatic damage. After spending his entire life's fortune on experimental procedures and treatments to no avail he sought out the spiritual healer of myth the Ancient One. From him Doctor Strange was taught the mystic arts of magic. He eventually came to be chosen as the Sorcerer Supreme of our world by Agamotto.

"Why are we here again?" Danny asked.

"I keep telling you. The book has some kind of mystical powers. We need to know what kind of powers those are so we can deal with them." Luke repeated himself.

The golden-gilded front door opened to the Sanctum Sanctorum and in the threshold stood a small hunched older man of asian descent. He wore green robes with a golden sash and his body and head were completely bald. Danny Rand recognized the man as Dr. Strange's personal servant and closest confidant Wong. "The doctor will see you now." Wong beckoned for them to enter.

They began walking up the steps, when Luke slowed. "Danny, Did you call and tell them we were coming?" Luke asked.

"No. I don't have a cell phone. They disrupt my chi." Danny said.

"Man, i hate mystical fiddle-faddle. Gives me the creeps." Luke said under his breath as he then followed Danny up the steps and into the sanctum sanctorum behind Wong.

Wong then led the two through a large mansion and expanded hallways that could not seemed to have fit in even the large mansion from the outside. All sorts of art and weaponry and curiosities sat on display all throughout the estate. Strolling down the hallways they passed many doors, most locked and others slightly ajar. Some hardly visible except for vague outlines that disappeared when you looked directly at them. Finally they entered a sitting room full of rugs, a diamond-encrusted hookah, and bean bag chairs. The infamous Doctor Strange sat cross-legged levitating in mid air in the center of the room. Doctor Strange had short black hair with premature gray that faded i to white at his temples. He wore a neatly trimmed goatee, and a long flowing red cape fastened about his neck in a clasp bearing a large eye medallion. The Eye Of Agamotto, a relic of great mystical power. He wore a simple blue and teal shirt and loose chinos, with dark moccasins on his feet. "Luke, Daniel, by the omnipotent Oshtur, it is a pleasure to see you gentlemen. Please make yourselves at home while Wong fetches some Darjeeling tea. I am glad to see that word if your reunion is true." Doctor Strange spoke in his domineering voice.

Luke leaned against a bookshelf while Danny plopped down into one of the bean bag chairs. Wong somehow brought in the tea and served Luke and Danny that quickly. "We're not really--" Luke began.

"Oh cool, you had some kind of mystic vision that we were gonna get back together as a team?" Danny interrupted and asked the doctor.

"No, i saw your post on Twitter, Daniel, as well as that picture you posted of you two together on Facebook." Doctor Strange corrected. He slowly lowered magically onto a bean bag chair and grabbed a hose from the hookah. "Now how may i be of assistance, gentlemen?"

"Long story short--we're looking for information about a book. It's titled 'A Madman's Mutterings'. We think it has magical powers, we just wanna know what so we can deal with 'em." Luke explained.

"A Madman's Mutterings you say?" The doctor asked and stroked his chin as he exhaled a dense cloud of smoke. "It was written by a man by the name of Bartholomew Jacobs, a known practitioner in dark magic. He was burned as a witch at the stake in 1692. It consists of a Hodgepodge of myths about the supernatural to the untrained eye, to make it a tedious and confusing read. But, it was actually inscribed in a secret code. Which when deciphered may reveal to summon the gruesome monsters that have been attacking the city. That is what you are investigating, yes?"

"Yeah." Luke answered.

"What?! Monsters?!" Danny sounded ecstatic.

"Yes, Bartholomew Jacobs had been known for summoning creatures from the spirit world and the dark dimension as a former holder of the Darkhold. Unfortunately, i do not know much more about this book. But, given the dilemma i will study this more in depth and report to you anything more useful i can turn up." The Doctor confirmed.

-

The Roaring Twenties was a legitimate business. The bar was opened every evening from 5 pm to 1 am except for Sunday. However, it was owned, operated, and frequented by none other than Hammerhead's branch of the Maggia crime family. But, during business hours it seemed to be filled with people just out for a good time. The speakeasy themed bar was decorated with 1920s era furnishings. Many of the patrons and staff dressed in attire appropriate to the era. Even Black Widow in her black and red pinstriped skirt-suit who smoked a strawberry cigarillo and observed the room. With her trained eyes she saw alot. She saw how the mirror behind the bar was really two-way. She also saw how the only visible entrance to the room behind the bar was a solid steel door beside the bar, and by the bathrooms. A large thug sat on a stool beside the door, and occasionally someone would approach him. They would talk, and after consulting some kind of list or sheet in his pocket he would turn them away. Denying them access into the room. Underneath bar, on the opposite side of which she sat there was a safe, that she had also seen. Its contents were approximately $200,000 and a handgun.

A small band began to play music appropriate for the period on the small stage, and the bar's hired "flappers" went to dancing frantically. Black Widow listened closely to the three thugs in a nearby booth.

"...yeah the boss sure is steamed. Just wait till he finds out who…" Thug 1 was saying, his voice hardly audible over the blaring rag-time horn.

"I hear the poker game's been moved to tonight." another participant of the conversation stated.

"Yeah, i ain't gonna make it. 10 o' clock's too late to start a game for me. Besides, the boss don't like to lose, and im a damn card shark." thug 1 boasted.

"Some big wheel from Chi-Town's gonna be there. I gotta pick him up from La Guardia. His flight is in at 9." the second thug complained.