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look! over there, a distraction!

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It isn't until Foggy knocks on Matt's door and everything goes quiet that he realizes there had been voices before he knocked. It can't be Karen, doesn't sound like Claire, and as sad as it sounds those are about the only people Matt hangs out with without Foggy as a buffer. Something is not right here.

He knocks again. "Matt?"

"Little busy right now, Foggy," Matt calls back, voice... strained, kind of? Foggy wishes, briefly, that he had Matt's superhearing right now; it'd be nice to know what he's about to walk into.

"Come on, Matt, you're never too busy for me!" he says, twisting the doorknob. It turns easily under his hand, and he walks in to find himself face to face with hoooly crap, like half a dozen guns. He blinks twice. "On second thought..." He looks past the guns to the faces behind them. "Agent Mack? And Agent Skye, again again."

Skye waves at him. It's an awkward thing, since she's still pointing a gun at him.

"And can I assume the rest of you are also agents of SHIELD?" None of them move, and Foggy sighs. "Well, this is fun. Why are you here?"

"We're here, Mr. Nelson," a skinny guy with a British? Irish? accent says, holding up aw fuck, the Daredevil suit, "because of this."

Be cool, Foggy. He squints at it. "Is that... Daredevil's costume?"

"Mr. Murdock isn't being very talkative," possibly-British agent says, sounding unsurprised. Okay, Matt hasn't said anything - meaning Matt hasn't come up with a reason why he'd have the costume, shit. "Would you care to explain?"

Draw it out, Foggy. Give yourself time to think of something. "Wow, that's really... wow," he says, stepping closer. "It's not spandex, there's body armor and everything." An idea half-formed in his head, Foggy turns to look at Matt, sitting pale and tense on his couch. At a stretch, you could say he's uncomfortable, maybe embarrassed. Okay, Foggy can work with that. "You really went all-out, Matt."

"So you admit that it's his," one of the other agents says, cautiously. Which, well. It does sound like Foggy's giving in too easy, doesn't it?

"Well, yeah." Foggy shrugs before throwing the curve ball. "I mean, I asked him to get it, but I'm sure not gonna wear it." He gestures to his everything. "Look at me, I don't have a superhero bod, I'm not fitting into that."

Silence. Foggy takes the opportunity to drop down on the couch next to Matt. He puts a hand on Matt's knee, which gives him the cover to tap out an OK? in Morse code. Matt gives him a slightly strained smile.

"I'm... confused," one of the agents says.

Skye, an expression on her face like she's bitten into a lemon, says, "I'm not."

"Daredevil, though," Foggy says to Matt, whose smile is getting more and more embarrassed. It was bound to happen, and at least he's picking up on where Foggy's going with this. "I figured something out of a comic book, Captain America maybe, but Daredevil?"

Matt ducks his head and says, voice straddling the line between shy and flirty, "Well, I - I know how you feel about those horns." Foggy wraps his arms around Matt and pretends to press a loud smack of a kiss to Matt's cheek, whispering a fervent, "I hate you so much" into the side of his face instead. One of Matt's hands comes up to grip the back of Foggy's neck, just this side of too tight, all but saying you're one to talk.

Comprehension dawns. British agent guy looks a little grossed out. "This is... what, a fetish costume?"

Matt nearly laughs out loud, hiding his head in Foggy's shoulder to muffle the sound. It almost sounds like an embarrassed groan. Good, good; Foggy can work with that. "Can we not use the f-word, please?" he protests, tucking Matt further into his side. See how much you've already humiliated my poor prudish blind boyfriend, he doesn't have to say, glaring at the guy. "Let's just say it's for personal, private use and leave it at that."

"Let's... do that," British agent guy agrees, dropping the suit gingerly onto the coffee table.

"Great. Now that that's settled: for the third time, we're sorry we can't be of more help. Please leave, you seem like nice people and I'd hate to have to file restraining orders against you." But I will, his angry expression and firm jawline tell them. (He hopes.) The agents trickle out of the room, mumbling apologies, most of them wearing the uncomfortable expressions of the secondhand-embarrassed, one or two wearing something closer to intrigued, which is alarming in a brand new way for Foggy.

Eventually, they're alone in Matt's apartment.

Foggy sighs, sagging back into the couch. "Holy shit."

"You can say that again," Matt mutters into his shoulder.

"Holy shit," Foggy says obediently. "I can't believe - " they bought that, he intends to say, but Matt squeezes where his hand is still resting on the back of Foggy's neck, so he shuts up.

Matt gets to his feet, grabs his cane (why??), tapping rhythmically as he crosses the room. He stops a few times, cocking his head to one side. Listening to something, obviously, but Foggy can't tell what until Matt reaches under his counter top and pulls out - oh, seriously?

"They bugged your apartment?" A thought strikes him, and he grabs the Daredevil suit. Sure enough... "There's one on the back of the costume too," he says, peeling it off.

"It's like SHIELD doesn't even care about pretending to work within the confines of the law," Matt says into the bug, before crushing it with the handle of a kitchen knife. Foggy tsks at the bug he found before handing it off for the same treatment.

"Think that's all of them?" he asks, phrasing it a little hypothetically in case there is another bug left. No need to make it obvious that Matt's the one finding them.

Matt stands in the center of his apartment - probably the literal exact center, too - listening carefully for a minute before he relaxes with a sigh. "We're clear." Matt scowls and throws his cane at Foggy, smacking him flat across the chest. "You're such a dick."

Foggy bursts out laughing. "Hey, I didn't see you coming up with anything."

Matt shakes his head, starting to laugh too. "I can't believe they bought that."

"What can I say?" Foggy says, spreading his arms wide. "I am a badass lawyer, master manipulator of facts and words."

"You got half a dozen agents of SHIELD to believe that the Daredevil suit they almost literally caught me putting on was a roleplay costume." Matt shakes his head, disbelieving. "That's more than badass. I - I don't have words for what that is."

Foggy preens. "I accept both undying gratitude and taking on all the really tedious court paperwork as forms of payment."


He snorts. "Jeez, if I'd known you give in that easy, I'd've asked for weekly foot massages too."

"Now you're pushing it," Matt warns him, but he's grinning, so Foggy figures he could've managed it.