A/N: Late night ponderings on "Daredevil" resulted in this one-shot. Turned out a bit more angsty than originally planned, but oh well. Post season 1, but no spoilers. First time writing "Daredevil," so not sure if I got the characters down right. Let me know.

Disclaimer: Characters of Foggy, Murdock, and Daredevil belong to Marvel and Drew Goddard. "The X-Files" also isn't mine.

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"Daredevil."

Even with heightened senses, it takes awhile for Matt to realize Foggy's just spoken. In his defense, the office has been quiet all morning, what with Karen taking a day off and him and Foggy being the only one's in the office due to Nelson & Murdock's still sort of non-existent client base. And while Matt probably should be working on some paperwork, he's too tired from last night's vigilante fighting to really do any of it, opting instead to listen to the cockroach episode of "The X-Files," of which he obviously hasn't seen since before his accident, that a kid a couple blocks over, after faking being sick to avoid going to school today, is watching.

(Matt gave the kid a solid 8 out of 10 for really committing by making himself throw-up, but docked points because of the parent's being too wrapped up in their work to really pay attention to the kid's well-being. Kid could have just said he didn't want to go to school and the parents would have let him. No unnecessary vomiting needed.)

"What was that?" Matt asks Foggy while internally chuckling at David Duchovny's perfect line delivery of "It appears that cockroaches are mortally attacking people."

"Hmm?" Foggy replies, obviously just as distracted as Matt.

"You said 'Daredevil.'"

"Oh, right. I did," Foggy says. "Just thinking. Hey, what have you been doing this entire time?"

Matt frowns, turning his attention from the episode and focusing more on Foggy. They're in the conference room, having decided to tackle the paperwork together, but seeing as his alter ego hardly has anything to do with legal paperwork, Matt figures Foggy's just as distracted as he's been. There's a slight breeze wafting in from the cracked window, rifling the various papers around on the table. Matt hears Foggy shift his position to stop them from flying away, pinning the documents to the table with a loud smack of his hand.

"Gee, thanks for the help there, ninja," Foggy says, though there's humor in his voice.

Matt ignores him. "What do you mean, what have I been doing?"

Foggy straightens the papers back into piles and says, "You've just been sitting there, not working. Just wondering what's going through your head there, Matty."

"Oh, that. I'm listening to Fox Mulder make a case against cockroaches."

The shuffling of papers stops and Matt smiles at what he imagines is confusion on Foggy's face.

After a pause, Foggy laughs. "I'm never going to get used to that. Who is it?"

"Kid couple blocks over. Did the whole finger down the throat thing to convince his parents to stay home from school."

Foggy scoffs. "Amateur."

"I gave him a solid 8 out of 10," Matt shrugs.

There's a comfortable lull in the conversation as Foggy finishes getting the reports back in order and Matt goes back to "The X-Files."

"Do you have a problem with the name?" Matt asks as the show goes to commercial break a few minutes later. He's hoping there's a marathon on television, the idea of paperwork really not sounding appealing. He supposes he could go home, but sitting in silence by himself seems even less appealing than the paperwork.

"What name?"

Seriously? Matt thinks. With the level of distraction going on this office today, Nelson & Murdock can expect to go bankrupt within the next week, probably.

"You said 'Daredevil' earlier, and when I asked you about it, you said you were 'just thinking.' Do you not like the name?" Matt tries not to show his frustration. He's really not in the mood to get into an argument with Foggy about his nighttime activities and all the lying surrounding the existence of the masked man/the Devil of Hell's Kitchen/Daredevil.

"Ah, yes," Foggy says. "It isn't so much what the name is, but rather the fact that you have a name."

"I'm not sure I follow you."

Matt hears Foggy's heartbeat speed up as Foggy's chair gives a squeak when his friend presumably leans forward in his excitement, all reports forgotten now that Foggy has Matt's attention. "The name, Matt. The name means something, man," Foggy says, like he and Matt are picking up a conversation they started a while ago. Matt supposes some sort of conversation was started, probably right before "The X-Files" thing, but he's just not sure what it's about or how they got to it.

"It's calling me a devil, Foggy. The meaning seems clear enough," Matt replies.

"Oh, don't sound so put-upon. You like it, just as much as you like running across rooftops and beating up bad guys," Foggy says, leaning back in his chair again. Matt hears the swish of Foggy's suit sleeves rubbing together as his friend crosses his arms, no doubt fixing him with a pointed look. When Matt doesn't answer, Foggy continues. "Besides, you're not hearing me — which, ironic. They could have called you Blind Guy—"

"—Blind Guy? How would they know I'm blind—?"

"—or The Revenger or something stupid like that, and the point would still be the same," Foggy talks over Matt.

"Which would be?"

There's a long pause. It's so long in fact, that Matt expects whatever words that next come out of Foggy's mouth to be something so profound that it ends up in a greeting card, or something.

But it isn't. "They gave you a name," Foggy answers, because apparently they're talking in circles today. "And you gave yourself a costume," Foggy adds.

Now, Matt's really confused. And missing the rest of "The X-Files," so he's also a little pissed. He takes off his glasses and squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Foggy, can you please just tell me what's on your mind? You're giving me a headache."

Foggy sighs, and Matt hears the swish of Foggy's suit sleeves against each other as he uncrosses his arms, presumably so Foggy can wave his hands around in order to really drive home his point. Never mind the fact Matt can't actually see the gesture, therefore rendering the technique useless. But Foggy doesn't care, apparently. "Hello, dude. A universal name. A costume…" Matt pictures Foggy ticking each point off with a finger. "A reputation of kicking bad guys' collective asses on the tough streets of Hell's Kitchen, doing what the cops can't do," he continues. Foggy pauses, probably waiting for Matt to understand his point, which Matt doesn't, his headache building as thoughts from last night threaten to surface to the forefront of his mind. He'd rather think about cockroaches invading the city than last night. Instead, he focuses back on Foggy, whose heartbeat has greatly increased, no doubt due to Matt's obvious drifting in focus. "You're totally a superhero!" Foggy finishes, exasperated, and yeah, there's definite hand waving, if the very small whooshes of air across Matt's face is any indicator.

Matt raises his eyebrows, not quite sure where Foggy's enthusiasm is coming from. "Come again?"

But his friend doesn't seem to be in the explaining mood. "Have you been recruited for The Avengers yet? You're fighting small-scale bad guys compared to what those guys face. I mean, aliens, man. You could fight aliens alongside Captain America and…."

Foggy's rambling fades into the background as Matt tries to decipher everything his friend is saying. The cool breeze from the window, which had been keeping him grounded against the rising tide of his thoughts, is no longer enough to combat their relentlessness to reach the surface, the ranging headache building up as Matt thinks back to last night's events, and how he was too late for the young girl but just in time to beat the crap out of the three males responsible. After, he had placed an anonymous call to the police about the girl and dropped the guys responsible off on the steps of the police station and went home to scrub their blood out of his suit. He was too tired from the fight to finish the task.

Which reminds him, he needs to find a dry cleaner that will wash blood stains out of a costume, no questions asked.

"Hey, Matty?"

Matt snaps back to the present and notices Foggy's quit rambling and has moved to the other side of the table, kneeling next to him with a hand on his shoulder, shaking him out of his reverie.

Matt shrugs him off and waves a hand in the air. "I'm no superhero, Foggy."

"But the name and the costume," Foggy argues, his hand dropping back to his side, but Matt doesn't hear his friend move from his knelt position.

"Is just a name given to me by the city because they don't want to use the term vigilante to refer to the guy who they count on, and a costume so I'm not watching my back during the daylight hours as well," Matt explains. "Those guys — The Avengers, or whatever —they save the world. They don't need a devil on their team."

"You saved Hell's Kitchen."

"I thought you just said I should be saving the world against alien invaders?"

"That would be cool, yes. But it wasn't exactly my point either. You could be fighting alongside The Avengers, but then, who would take care of our city? I was just implying that you're basically them."

Matt shakes his head in frustration. "Where is this coming from, Foggy? Last time I checked, you had a problem with people taking the law into their own hands."

"No, I had a problem with my best friend lying to me for years on end. And I can get used to you saving people, even if it gives me a heart attack every night you're out risking your life." Foggy pauses, and Matt can sense the sincerity of those words. "But," his friend continues, "I want to meet Black Widow. You're my in, man." Foggy claps him on the shoulder good-naturedly.

Matt smiles a little at that, but it falters when he runs Foggy's words back through his head. "I was too late last night. A girl died. There's nothing super about failing to save someone."

Foggy's hand grips his shoulder a little tighter, but Matt doesn't sense any repulsion or doubt coming from his friend at his confession. "I'm sure you did the best you could. Can't save everyone, my friend. At least you didn't destroy an entire city with an alien invasion."

Matt laughs, and is glad to find it's genuine. Foggy gives one more squeeze of his shoulder and stands up to go back to his side of the table. The chair squeaks again as Foggy settles back into it, another reminder they really do need clients so they can get money to get more comfortable chairs. "Besides," Foggy begins, the uncapping of his pen sounding loud in Matt's ear now there isn't anymore "X-Files" to listen to, as their bizarre conversation has run past the end of the episode and there doesn't seem to be a marathon on like he had hoped. "'Daredevil' is a way better name than 'Thor' or 'Iron Man,'" Foggy says, oblivious to Matt's wandering thoughts. "A devil that saves people. It's got character. It's got pizazz."

"Pizazz?"

Another gust of wind shuffles the recently rearranged documents, but before they can scatter, Matt lunges out of his chair and catches them. The papers hardly need straightening when he hands them back to Foggy. "Yeah, pizazz," Foggy says, taking the papers from the Matt.

"Daredevil defeats constantly scattering paper, I can see the headline now," Matt chuckles.

"See," Foggy says, all traces of humor suddenly gone from his tone. "Superhero."