AN: I really shouldn't be starting a new series, but... I couldn't help it. A series of drabbles about our favourite avocados and their various misadventures in life and the court room, inspired by tumblr posts and suggested prompts, which I am taking.
Foggy had waited up for this. Sure, he hadn't know Matt Murdock long, but they were already very good friends. And his duties as a newly anointed best friend included bugging him to no end about the date with the cute girl from Foggy's Punjabi class, and pranking the hell out of him. (Why he took Punjabi, he'll never really know. Probably because it was the only course that fit in his schedule.)
He grabbed a coke from the fridge - because hey, he was at Columbia, he was broke as shit - and settled down on the couch to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Around hour 1, he had an idea.
At about hour 1.5, he'd made some calls and started moving the furniture. There was a fellow law student in a dorm near by who said he could use his room for a while.
At hour 2, they were moving the last of it in and Foggy was giving the student a 20 dollar bill, which would totally be worth it when Matt came back.
At hour 3, Foggy was sitting criss-cross on the floor with his third bottle of coke and playing Solitaire.
At hour 4, he heard the tell-tale clacking of Matt's cane down the hall, and he grinned. He was going to be the best best friend after this. The ulta best friend. The best friend supreme. He leaned back against the wall and waiting, watching the door open.
Matt froze in the doorway, frowning. "Uh... Is this the wrong room?" Foggy laughed, unbending his legs and stretching them out, trying not to upset his card game.
"So," he said conversationally, "how was that date? Was she hot?"
Matt sighed, a resigned look on his face, and made his way into the empty dorm. Foggy triumphantly grinned in the background. "You know I can't tell, Foggy."
"Yeah, but don't you do that weird finger thing? Touch her face? Was she hot. Was she hotter than me?"
Matt sighed deeply for the second time in the short conversation. "She was black."
Foggy tilted his head, confused for a second. "Dude. Why does that matter?"
"She was black. You're black. I'm black. The room is black. The sun is black. Everything is black, Foggy, I'm fucking blind."
Foggy laughed, standing up and crossing the room, throwing an arm around Matt. "Let's go get our furniture from down the hall, best friend."
"You're an idiot, Foggy," Matt said, but he followed anyway.