Foggy worked for Jerri Hogarth. Jerri Hogarth was Danny Rand’s lawyer. Danny Rand met Foggy and Danny Rand asked Foggy out on a date. Foggy said yes.
Matt did not have an opinion on any of this, wasn’t allowed an opinion on any of this, because he’d chased Foggy out of his life. Foggy was an adult and free to make his own decisions.
Like going on a date with a billionaire, kung-fu expert, who had the audacity to be a nice guy on top of all that.
Matt was drinking. He was sitting at this bar, drinking this drink.
He was doing this because he was not following Foggy on his date. Because that would be creepy and invasive and wrong. Foggy was fine, Foggy was safe. Danny Rand, the Iron Fist, would be more than capable of keeping Foggy safe. So Matt would sit here and drink his drink and not think about Foggy talking to Danny, making Danny laugh. Danny making Foggy laugh. Danny wouldn’t make Foggy cry, not like Matt did. Because Danny is an actual hero, like a comic book, not just a blind man with screwed up senses and too much anger.
Danny could kiss Foggy, maybe he would, without worrying about hurting Foggy, or losing Foggy, or….
Matt downed the rest of his drink.
“Murdock?” came a familiar and unwelcome voice. “Of all the bars in all of New York, why would you inflict yourself on mine.”
Matt turned and threw a sharp, unfriendly grin in Marci’s direction. “Didn’t see your name over the door.”
Marci sighed loudly and hopped onto the stool next to Matt’s. “I’m guessing you’re here because it’s not the type of place Foggy-bear would ever come. Coincidentally, it’s why I like it so much.” She made some kind of gesture to the bartender. “Two of whatever he’s drinking. He’s paying.”
Matt nodded in agreement in the general direction of the bartender, to avoid growling outright at Marci’s horrible pet name for Foggy. They drank the drinks the bartender brought. Marci bought the next round.
“I take it this pity party is about Foggy’s date,” she stated halfway through the second drink. “Not feeling up to the competition, Murdock?”
“There’s no competition,” said Matt flatly. “I have no hold on Foggy.”
Marci snorted at that, but thankfully didn’t say anything else. For a whole two minutes, then she started again. “Foggy-bear is on a date with a pretty hot, billionaire, who is in good with his boss. And you are moping about it, even though you all but abandoned Foggy for whatever stupid reason you have for doing any of the dumb shit you do. But don’t worry. I promise you Murdock, this whole thing is not going past the first date.”
“Why is that?” asked Matt in spite of himself. “I’ve met Danny a couple of times. He’s a good guy. Like Foggy is a good guy. We should probably be happy he’s found someone who deserves him.”
Marci laughed out loud at that. Matt really hated her laugh. “Foggy dated me, and I am a shark at best. He’s been in love with you as long as I’ve known him.” Matt sorted at that one but Marci ignored him and carried on. “And you are a massive asshole most of the time. He works for one of the biggest bitches in New York city. Hell, he even gets on with Jones, who has made no less than three other lawyers at the firm cry.”
“Is there a point to all this character assassination?” asked Matt flippantly.
“He doesn’t like nice,” said Marci, in the same voice she used for closing arguments. “He gets bored with nice. He actually called Rand a ‘sweetheart’ today. They will go out, have a perfectly lovely time, swap numbers and then Foggy will have a brand new friend and it will never go any further than that.”
Matt frowned at the drink in his hand. Marci’s heartbeat was steady, she believed what she was saying at least. “That’s… he’s dated nice people before…” said Matt uncertainly.
“Name one,” challenged Marci. “One that lasted more than three dates?”
Matt tried he really did, but he couldn’t actually think of one. Marci took his silence as victory.
“Trust me, Murdock. You don’t have to worry about Rand stealing him away. All you have to worry about is getting your head out of your ass long enough to let him know how you feel,” snapped Marci.
“How I… I don’t…” stuttered Matt. His head was starting to spin from the alcohol.
“You know I used to dream about him leaving your dumb ass,” Marci carried on as if Matt hadn’t spoken. “I thought he could be so… if he just got out of your orbit and believed he could do it. And he is, he’s… amazing.”
Matt could feel tears unshed in his eyes, he blinked them away, glad his glasses hid them from Marci. He knew Foggy was better off without him. But it still hurt to hear it so bluntly. “You should be happy then.”
“He’s miserable,” sighed Marci. “And it breaks the heart I like to pretend I don’t have to see it. He doesn’t like nice and he doesn’t like what’s good for him. He likes you, he… loves you. I hate you for it, because you are the worst thing for him, but it’s true. So fucking fix it, Murdock.”
She downed the rest of her drink and stormed out. Her heart racing, Matt would almost believe that he could smell the salt of tears on her if it wasn’t Marci. Marci wouldn’t want him to know she cried, so he believed she wasn’t. He went home.
A few days later there was an impromptu Defenders ‘meeting’ on a rooftop in Hell’s Kitchen. Jess asked the question for him.
“Hey, ‘Iron Fist’,” she asked, infusing the codename with all the scorn she could muster. “How did the date with Nelson go?”
Danny’s heartrate elevated slightly, but it was more fond than anything else. “It was great,” he said, infectious joy in his voice. “But we’re probably not going to do it again. We decided friends was a better idea.”
Matt jumped away from the conversation and disappeared into Hell’s kitchen. Trying not to think about what else Marci might have been right about.