Think Fast

#5 Miller

AN: We've returned to happy things! Just one more chapter now.

Also, if you wouldn't mind... This story is up on archiveofourown, too, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd give some kudos. You can do that both as a member and as a guest, so no need to worry if you don't have an account. You can find it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4698722?view_full_work=true

Thanks!

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"To yet another successful trial!" Foggy exclaimed loudly, grinning broadly as he, Karen, and Matt clinked glasses. The three simultaneously threw back half their drinks.

A month ago, they'd been asked to defend Gerard Miller, a particular individual with an unfortunate criminal record that gave the police a good reason to suspect him of a revenge murder. Miller was innocent, Matt had made sure of it, but the evidence was clearly against the poor man. Thankfully, Foggy and Matt had, in their words, kicked ass in the courtroom, and Foggy's closing argument was one of his best yet, he thought. Now Miller was reunited with his daughter and eternally grateful for it.

"Foggy, you've been saying that with every single drink we've had. Literally the exact same thing." Karen declared with a hand in front of her mouth as she swallowed down the mediocre drink. She was smiling.

"Can't a man be happy?" Foggy threw out his arms, and Matt dodged a hand going for his face. "I mean, let's do a headcount here; I no longer look like I got stuck in a blender, Matt hasn't fallen down and broken his face in weeks," A pointed glare at his friend, "And let's keep it that way, Matt," Foggy ordered. Matt shrugged innocently. "And Miller, the conflicted soul, has finally been able to prove his innocence! With our wonderful help, of course."

Foggy leaned towards Karen. "It was a hard case. All the evidence was pointing to him." He shot her a mockingly accusing glare. "Which you would've known if you stayed at the office through Matt and I's late-night research sessions."

Karen set her glass down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, laughing. "You're the one who keeps sending me home, Foggy!" She shot back, without venom. Foggy played along with the playful argument, and motioned with his hands.

"You could've refused."

Karen chuckled. "I think you would've physically dragged me home if I did." She said under her breath, and held eye contact with Foggy while she took another sip from her glass.

"She's got a point." Matt chimed in.

Karen laughed out a "thank you, Matt!" At the same time as Foggy faked offense, throwing his arms out with a look of outrage on his face.

"Come on, Matt! You're supposed to be backing me!"

Matt simply grinned and nipped his drink. "I'm backing the truth, Foggy. Like a good lawyer should. You would've dragged her home and you know it."

Foggy looked between the two, then hung his head, defeated. "You're right, I would've." He sighed. "Another round?"

"Actually," Karen began, fidgeting, "I was gonna head home soon."

Both men made disappointed noises, but neither was going to force her to stay. They would never. Foggy threw back the rest of the liquor and pushed his empty tumbler a little further away on the wobbly table. He sighed, sounding content.

"Think I'll head back soon, too, then. Matt, you coming?"

Matt shrugged, flashed a charming, slightly crooked smile. "Sure," he said. "Why not."

"Awesome." Foggy smiled back, and signalled Josie, letting her know they were ready to pay. Karen insisted on splitting the costs. She and Foggy simultaneously reached behind them to grab their coats off the backrests of their chairs. It wasn't a practiced move, just a well timed one.

The three of them said goodbye on the sidewalk while Karen hailed a cab. Foggy and Matt decided to walk; Foggy's place wasn't far, and they weren't that drunk.

The way home was an experience; Foggy stumbled every few minutes, completely relying on Matt to steady him when he did, all the while talking loudly at his slightly less drunk friend about whatever came to mind. Matt didn't really listen, mostly just laughed at Foggy's balance problems and nodded convincingly when Foggy began talking about seafood with absolutely no lead-up whatsoever. But the mood was light, and they both needed it after the rough weeks of sifting through evidence.

When the pair arrived at Foggy's front door, the owner fumbled with fitting the key into the lock for nearly a minute straight while Matt laughed at him, a gleeful and intoxicated giggle that had Foggy shoving at his chest and yelling at him to shut up like they were in college all over.

But the more Foggy laughed, the harder it was to aim the key, and as a result, the more they both laughed. After struggling to unlock the door for far longer than he should've- for pride reasons- and Matt laughing at him, Foggy handed his friend the key with an exasperated exclamation of "you do it, then!"

Through the shaking shoulders, Matt took the key from Foggy, and, without turning his head away from his friend, slipped it into the lock on the first try. He turned the key smoothly and, as he was letting himself in, shot Foggy a victorious look; eyebrows raising over his shades and a small, playful smile on his lips.

Leaning his cane against the doorframe and hanging his coat on Foggy's old-fashioned coat rack, Matt proceeded into the living room. He dropped himself on the used couch near the wall and turned his head expectantly to Foggy, who had headed for the kitchen, grumbling about Matt being a fucking showoff.

Matt liked Foggy's apartment; it was much more homely than Matt's, with a poster here and there, some useless decorations, and he'd arranged his furniture with Matt's blindness in mind; everything a little spaced apart, a little minimalist, so Matt wouldn't stumble over anything. It was sweet, even if Foggy did have a hard time actually keeping the floor clean. His shoes usually sat kicked off somewhere near the couch, and he often left sweaters and hoodies laying around wherever, just like his bag. Matt didn't mind. He never tripped anyways. He simply breathed in the air that smelled like Foggy, cloth furniture, and Chinese takeout from the night before. Foggy could do with airing the apartment a little more often, maybe. Matt felt small particles of dust tickling his nose.

Foggy was still in the kitchen, and judging by the sound of glass clinking together in his hands, in the process of taking two beers out the fridge, when he asked Matt if he fancied one. Matt chuckled.

"We're gonna regret this tomorrow, aren't we."

"I'm counting on it," Foggy grinned, and tossed Matt one of the bottles. Matt's fingers slipped a little from the condensation on the glass as he nicked it from the air, and took the cap off with the coffee table.

A sip later and he was laughing.

"Foggy, did you buy Miller Lite just because of this case?"

Foggy was impressed. But he was also very proud of his awesome joke, so he just loudly replied, "Damn right I did!" And reveled in the giggle it rewarded him. "How can you tell the difference, though?" He inquired, slurring his words a little, "this shit all tastes the same."

Matt shrugged, trying to cover up his smug smile, and took a swig from his beer, like it wasn't hard.

Foggy dropped himself on the sofa next to the brunet. "You'd be a great wine taster if you weren't so busy being a damn superhero," he sighed, but his tone was lighthearted.

Matt let out a small laugh. "I'm not a superhero, Fog. I'm a lawyer. I don't get paid for what I do in the suit."

"Well," Foggy chuckled. "By that logic, you're hardly even a lawyer."

Matt laughed loudly. "I'll drink to that."