Chapter Text
It took Foggy three days to notice that Matt was missing.
Which, granted, was a new record for Foggy. In college it would take him a week to notice, then another to actually start considering to worry. But the anxieties of an adult along with the realities of Hell's Kitchen crept up on him, and so whether he liked it not, he started to care about things a lot faster.
Matt's absence was a charming thing in small doses. Karen could organize paperwork without it becoming a mountain of chaos within hours. She even had time to staple the reports, which was super. But when it got into Day 2 of the paperwork being immaculate and the office alarmingly quiet, Foggy sent their intrepid receptionist home early and started making frantic phone calls. By the next morning he had an appointment to stumble out of Hell's Kitchen and into the Avengers Tower.
"I still don't understand why you guys can't just make house calls." he quipped while inviting himself to a soft leather armchair across from an extremely incredulous-looking Black Widow. Normally he couldn't be bothered with niceties for his best friend's exes, but he made exceptions for highly trained lethal super-spies.
"What, and deprive a Hell's Kitchen boy of the chance to enjoy the view?" she quipped, gesturing to the floor-to-ceiling window panes that made up the tower's exterior. Very art deco meets cyberpunk meets Tony Stark experimenting with architectural design while hopped up on caffeine pills. It would have been a gorgeous view of the city, were it not for the endless scaffolding and other accents meant to rebuild the concrete jungle, time and again after whatever superpowered clash of the month had occurred.
"Much appreciated." Foggy replied dryly. "I think I can see Spider-Man's house from here."
"Speaking of which." Natasha's switch to talking business was subtle, but commanding. "You came out here to call in a favor when you could have just gone to him, or the rest of the crowd in your area?"
Foggy decided to be honest: "Spidey and Luke were busy and The Punisher scares the shit out of me."
With an understanding look coming over her face, Natasha picked up her mobile phone. After a moment of searching, she announced calmly, "Looks like he's still in Hell's Kitchen. And splurging on Starbucks the past few days."
"H- how'd you find that out?"
"I used SHIELD's database to look up Matt's credit card information. Speaking of, you might want to remind him that Thai is not a food group."
--
On a hunch, Foggy checked out the Starbucks around the corner from their office. It was a 24/7 locale with more generous, trendy seating than the average overpriced Seattle-based chain cafe. Matt's smooth tenor voice floated across the smattering of college students. He sat relaxed next to an electric fireplace, the coffee table in front of him stacked with files and used cups. Across from him lounged a sharply-dressed woman with green skin, with a head and shoulders on Matt easily.
"... but can you believe we finally got to team up and then the universe just ripped itself in half? Go figure." laughed She-Hulk. (Foggy had never been formally introduced, but some supers were not that hard to identify on sight.)
"Matt!" Foggy interjected, announcing himself at the table slightly louder than necessary. Matt made about as much effort to conceal his wincing as Foggy did his smirking.
"Foggy, we were just talking about you." Matt chuckled, wiping the lens of his glasses on his loosened necktie.
Foggy deadpanned. "Apparently. For three days?"
The woman gave Matt a very one-sided glance. "You'll find that your partner can be a hell of a guy to talk to, if you didn't just torture him all the time." After giving Foggy the most obvious once-over he'd ever experienced from a female, she extended a big green (but still well-manicured) hand: "Jen Walters."
Although he took her hand cordially, Foggy's attention was still on Matt: "You've been talking to a woman for three days nonstop, and she still has her pants on? You're losing it, Murdock."
Jen laughed the loudest out of any of them at his jab, "Have you seen the Hulks in action? Better we keep the pants on." This time the round of laughter came from all three of them, though the noise barely elicited a response from the cafe's employees or other patrons. Either New Yorkers were all but numbed to dealing with supers, or a new record had been set for apathy in baristas. Probably both, he decided.