So things had, by in large, resolved themselves at the offices of Nelson, Murdock, Page (and Marshall). But Foggy decided that nevertheless they needed to do some kind of team building exercise. And he decided it had to be better than just drinks at Josie's. He floated the idea for Maggie who, to his surprise, had agreed it was a good plan. For as often as she'd cut down what he said she was equally supportive when she decided he was on the right track. And she fully agreed some time away from the office where they could reconnect in a positive way was an excellent idea for the trio. He still can't decide why her opinion and support matter so much to him, after all she's Matt's mom, not his own. But he can't deny getting her approval feels really good in some deep and profound way he can't articulate.
So Foggy is plenty full of enthusiasm and hope when he lays out his plan for a little team building fun. Both the other employees look at him like he's grown another head but neither outright refuses.
"Okay, yup. We're in," Matt answers for himself and Karen (who nods). "What do you want us to do?"
And this is where the rubber meets the road. Foggy may have come up with the idea but he's decided he's going to (force) get Matt to plan this. He still feels like Matt's had the roughest deal of late and if any of them need to do something to decrease tension its Matt. He may have stopped tossing things around and there have been no more phone calls from Brett about Daredevil's nighttime activities but Matt's not any less tense than he was before, with the possible exception of his weirdly adorable fishy playtimes - which on some level still floors Foggy. Matt is a lot of things – driven and intense and really, really violent during off work hours. But damn, he's just way more relaxed when he's around that little fish.
"You pick what we're going to do, Matt."
"Me? What? No, this is your idea, Foggy."
"We drew straws and decided it – you get first pick."
"Uh, I didn't draw straws. Karen?"
Karen just gives a confused noise but fails to back up either of them in any substantial way.
"Yup see, its decided," Foggy barrels on, plowing over any objections. "Matt, figure out some kind of activity we can all do together. Uh, maybe not Marshall though cause he needs to stay and guard the office."
"Well … we could go to –"
"No! Josie's doesn't count," he cuts off Matt knowing exactly what the suggestion was going to be before the words even had a chance to leave his friend's mouth. "Something different. Something more special."
"Uhh," Matt flounders, caught on the spot.
"Go. Research. Or brainstorm with Marshall or whatever. But tomorrow morning we're meeting at 9am and you're going to have an awesome idea for us," Foggy insists like there's just no other option here.
Matt now has a deer in the headlights look on his face but he's clearly gotten Foggy's message that this is not optional and seems fairly important to his partner.
"Okay, Fogs. Yeah, I'll come up with something," he agrees, giving Foggy's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
….
"Axe throwing? This an actual thing?" Foggy asks, completely confused. He's not regretting giving activity choosing duties to Matt but he is questioning his friend's sanity at the moment.
"Yes!" Matt says, looking more than a little pleased. "There a bar in Brooklyn, they're on Degraw street and they offer this. You just throw axes at the targets."
"But in a bar? Like where everybody's all liquored up?"
"Yeah!" Matt says, clearly sold on the idea.
"This doesn't seem just a little unsafe to you?" Foggy can't help but point this out, though he should well know by now, drawing attention to a lack of safety of things is not going to be even remotely effective as a deterrent to Matt.
"Um, I'm not sure I'm strong enough to throw an axe?" Karen points out.
"You definitely are, Karen," Matt says smiling at her. "And anyway, you can choose a hatchet that's smaller if you want. But honestly, I really want to hear you whip an axe around."
"Um, yeah, that's weird, Matt. You're being really weird about this," she points out. Matt does seem overly enthused with his idea.
"What on earth made you think this was a good idea?" Foggy asks. He hates to shit on his friend's parade but really, he did NOT expect Matt would come up with anything this … interesting when he forced making plans on him. "They're going to get one look at you – sunglasses, cane and all and there's not a chance in hell they'll let you do this."
"Oh, I can TOTALLY get away with this," Matt assures him, loads of confidence in his tone. "I ditch the glasses and cane and I can definitely escape their notice."
"Bullshit," Foggy calls. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be a dick but outside of your 'nighttime activities' there's just no way you can pass for sighted."
"I can and I have. Seriously. I CAN do this Foggy. It's far enough away from Hell's Kitchen that they won't know who Matt Murdock is. I can do this. I've done it before and nobody called me out on it."
"When?"
"Uh," Matt hesitates, enthusiasm finally dropping several notches. "I may have been technically impersonating you at the time…"
"That shit with the prison? And by the way, don't think I'm not still pissed about that whole thing. Do you even know what a pain in the ass it is to cancel all your cards when your wallet goes missing?"
"I said I'm sorry," Matt reminds him (no, he actually never did but at least implied it) and tries to quickly skirt the issue. "But I did it – they didn't call me out on anything – must have totally bought I could see where I was going. And I've done it a couple other times without a fuss. Seriously."
"Okay fine. Let's say you can somehow convince them you can see what you're doing. How in hell are you going to find the targets? They don't make sounds. They're not moving. They're not moving, right? Please tell me its not hurling sharp objects at like bunny rabbits or something?"
"No! Its wooden targets – nothing alive. Like dart boards but huge … I think. I'm not totally sure, I couldn't see the pictures online. But don't worry, I'll figure it out. This is totally do-able."
"Karen?" Foggy asks, somehow hoping she might talk sense into Matt.
"I can drink and throw shit? I mean, I'm not exactly seeing the downside here. I've got some inner rage that needs letting out."
"My sweet, delicate flower," Foggy says, shaking his head, mock disappointment in his voice. "Alright Murdock, you win. Go call for reservations or whatever. Nobody better come crying to me if they accidentally manage to hack off a limb!"
….
Foggy is not altogether surprised that Matt's really pumped for this. He had certainly seemed enthused when he'd presented the idea. But really, he hadn't foreseen just how committed Matt would be.
Karen had volunteered to drive (thank God cause she's the only one with a car it would have been a royal pain in the ass to get there otherwise). She'd picked up Foggy first since they live fairly close to each other, and then they drove to Matt's apartment. They'd headed upstairs to grab him.
"Holy shit," Karen says, not quite under her breath when she gets a look at Matt.
Of yeah, he was totally committed to this night. He'd hollered it was open when they'd approached his door so they let themselves in. Who knew what in the hell he had been doing up there but he'd slowly made his way down the stairs from the roof access looking terribly smug. For a guy who readily admitted he had no idea what he looked like, Matt clearly knows exactly what effect he had on his audience. He's wearing a red and black buffalo checked flannel shirt that is most definitely a size too small. Foggy recognizes it from school when it had fit Matt fine given he had been a good thirty pounds less of muscle back then. Now it's tightly clinging to his chest, buttons straining over his pecs and totally highlighting his ripped chest. His jeans, that Foggy is sure he's never seen Matt in even once before, are light wash, artfully ripped at the knees and all but painted on, leaving nothing to the imagination. He's finished it off with a pair of Timberland yellow boots that Foggy suspects are brand new cause the style of them fits neither Matt Murdock nor Daredevil but totally supports the whole rugged, hipster, lumberjack vibe. Speaking of that, Matt had gone an extra few days without shaving, scruff dangerously edging on beard territory. His hair is an artfully dishevelled mess that probably took forever to make look like neglected, messy bedhead. Foggy's pretty sure he can actually hear Karen manually lifting her jaw off the floor.
Matt pauses at the landing and Foggy is certain he's reading their reactions, using them in lieu of the mirror he can't see. The smug ratchets up a notch as Matt makes no effort to hide his grin.
"Ready to go?" he asks with all kinds of fake chill.
…..
The ride had been uneventful but parking was a nightmare. It ended up being a couple blocks walk which neither surprised and nor really irritated any of them. Matt lead the way, no cane or being attached to anybody's arm tonight. It was weird as shit for both Foggy and Karen to see him navigate the street unaided. They were plenty use to Matt moving around familiar spaces with ease but somehow even in unfamiliar territory he was avoiding all manner of random shit with seeming ease. Raised brick flower beds on the sidewalk? Yup, not a problem. Matt would easily course correct and avoid whacking his shins by what appeared to be mere inches. Random uneven sidewalk? Nope, that was not posing the tripping hazard one would expect as he easily stepped over each rough edge with ease, though if you watched really closely he was probably taking his steps slightly higher than needed and erring on the side of caution in those spots. Fold out chalkboard bar signs on the sidewalk? Those were somehow avoided too though he seemed to get dangerously close to collision before sidestepping each one at the last possible moment. The only huge tell, and this would of course only be noticeable to Karen and Foggy, was that he was totally silent. No conversation whatsoever and it was fairly obvious that this little game of navigation was likely taking all his focus so there just was none left over for idle chit chat.
"Yup, this is it," Karen announces when it looks like Matt might walk past the bar they were searching for. Matt makes a quick u-turn back and rejoins them.
"Okay yes," Foggy says, "I'm impressed, Matt. Does make me feel like a bit of an ass for leading you around for so many years though."
"Ah Foggy, you have NO idea how much easier it was for me when you did that. Believe me, letting me shut my brain off for walks was a delight," Matt reassures him, impulsively pulling Foggy into a quick half hug.
Foggy chokes down a swell of emotions, "Alright, well we're here, let's go put ourselves in unnecessary mortal danger around drunks throwing sharp, heavy objects."
"Yes!" Matt says enthusiastically as though the description made the activity even more enticing. Hell, Foggy thinks, it probably does for him.
….
As it turns out Matt was right and nobody even questioned his sight. He very carefully pulled off any lack of eye contact as just a bit of shyness, carefully ducking his head as though he was slightly nervous when needed though Karen and Foggy knew this to be complete and total bullshit. Their instructor was, thankfully, easily swayed by Matt's request to walk up to the target and feel it. Matt said some line of crap about it improving his aim which was easily accepted when in reality it was the only way he'd have a clue where he was trying to hit. Thankfully, the paint on the target lines was plenty thick and Matt made quick work of feeling out the info he needed while raising little to no suspicion. A couple of practice throws and they were ready to go.
Thankfully they have their own lane (or whatever it was called – Foggy doesn't have a clue) which makes him marginally less concerned about an errant throw ending up embedded in his back. Surprisingly all three of them end up being fairly accurate throwers after a few initial missed shots. Unsurprisingly, Matt is super accurate at hitting the bullseye of the target. And that is not going unnoticed.
"Okay don't freak out but you are totally catching some major attention from a complete hottie at your 4 o'clock," Foggy informs Matt helpfully. And, of course, Matt puffs up and can't resist showing off even more after hearing that bit of news. Foggy also notices their instructor, Lance, sneaking glances at Karen as he makes his way around the lanes, helping out. And it doesn't seem like he's terribly interested in the results of her throws.
On their last round the instructor brings out an huge axe like the one's firemen use. Matt looks thoroughly delighted as he grabs the enormous tool (weapon?). Karen declines when he offers her first crack, citing the size and weight of the thing but Matt chucks it with almost too much force, clearly delighted when it embeds itself far into centre of the target. Their instructor is impressed as he struggles briefly to pull it loose of the wooden target. But even as he congratulates Matt, Lance is clearly far more busy making eyes at Karen. Karen is doing it right back now and Foggy does not miss the way she keeps sneaking glances at Matt like she expects a reaction from him. Matt is wholly oblivious to this interaction since, A) he can't see it and B) is likely paying zero attention for it, far too wrapped up in the fun of hucking heavy, sharp shit around.
Foggy leaves to find them a table so they can get their drink on now that they're done. Karen is well into a conversation with the instructor, flirting and seeming to enjoy the attention. And Matt vanishes when Foggy is about to call his friends over. Foggy places drink orders with the waitress, easily guessing what his friends want. He pulls his phone out while waiting on both the drinks to arrive and his friends to migrate to the table in their own time.
They're were all having fun and Foggy can't decide who to text first – Marci, cause he's told her all about the plans for the night (even if that info was way more enthusiastically given than received) or Maggie cause he wanted her to know his plan has worked out, and also to know that Matt is having a good time. He ends up texting them both. Maggie gets back to him first, says little but succinctly expresses her happiness that things had worked out. Marci responds with a mostly unrelated and very NC-17 response about exactly what she has planned for the remainder of the night once Foggy gets home. Foggy squirms in his seat and decides no matter what they are leaving by 12. Marci can be patient to a point but he absolutely does not want her starting without him and he knows its not an idle threat. Foggy smiles to himself as he tucks away his phone and looks around for his friends. He immediately spots Matt ducking out of … wait was that the ladies room? Holy fuck – that's the chick who had been making eyes at him earlier exiting right behind Matt. And clearly that had panned out – Matt's shirt is now literally buttoned all wrong, his hair is (even more of) a complete mess and there's a smear of pink lipstick down one side of his jaw. And yup, the smug look is back times 10. Isn't hard to figure what went down as Matt makes his way to Foggy.
"You are a dog!" Foggy says sounding totally approving despite his choice of words. "I don't know if I'm disgusted or impressed here."
"You can be both," Matt says, smile on his face. He is clearly not regretting carrying on in the bathroom like someone ten years younger. He easily locates the beer Foggy had ordered him and chugs half down. "Don't even talk to me about that being unsanitary cause I do know. I just totally do NOT care right now."
"Tell me you got a number?"
"What for?" Matt asks and Foggy is instantly transported back almost a decade by his blasé response. He's not super surprised but just a little disappointed.
"Have you seen Karen?" Foggy asks knowing that of course the answer will be no, for multiple reasons at this point. "She was talking to that instructor guy, Lance earlier."
Matt pauses, does that weird thing where he freezes then angles his head that Foggy knows means he's focusing on something. "Still with him," Matt says. Then, "Eww."
"Do I want to know?" Foggy asks, still not catching sight of Karen despite taking a good look around.
"No." All traces of his earlier smug satisfaction have been wiped off his face instantly. "I'll keep track," he says, sounding suddenly very, very unhappy.
Foggy watches as Matt's hand clenches hard around his now empty beer bottle. Matt's fingers go white as he grips it really hard. It's difficult to hear over the music and general din of the busy bar but he can swear he hears an actual grown emanating from Matt's chest.
"Put that down before you break it," he warns Matt, really not fancying a trip to emergency this evening to have pieces of broken glass extracted from his friend's hand. Without the usual red glasses to hide behind Matt's murderous look is unobscured. Whatever he's hearing is well and truly pissing him off. "Is there a danger thing going on?" Foggy asks, genuinely needing to know if something is about to go down.
"No, no danger," Matt states, refusing to put down the bottle his left hand is still doing its best to crush. "He's not … hurting her."
"But we're still not happy about things?" Foggy asks kinda wishing he didn't have to rely on whatever weird sensory surveillance Matt has going on.
"No," Matt grinds out. He looks ready to kill though.
"So if there's no danger then maybe we should like, let her have her privacy?" Foggy suggests. From what he can gather Karen's night is possibly panning out as well as Matt's had earlier. (And as well as Foggy anticipates his own night ending once he gets home).
Matt literally snarls but chokes it down when the waitress arrives at their table. He orders a double shot of whiskey and Foggy decides to stick with another beer. After a few more moments, Matt noticeably relaxes. Karen arrives at the table very shortly after.
"Hey boys," she greets them, drink in hand. "How's our team building outing? Success?" She looks flushed and is smiling hugely, the evening's activities clearly agreeing very much with her.
Foggy reminds himself yet again that he has something awesome waiting at home, and if her texts were anything to go by, Marci would literally be greeting him at the door wearing not a stitch, plenty hot and bothered by the time he makes it home.
The waitress arrives with their drinks.
"To Nelson, Murdock, Page and Marshall!" Foggy toasts, trying like mad to ignore Matt's still barely contained seething rage (OMG, please don't be planning to beat the shit out of poor, innocent Lance) and Karen's feigned obliviousness (did she even like Lance or was that all just to rile up Matt?).
They all clink glasses and Foggy decides to consider the evening more of a success than a failure. And he silently sends up a prayer that Monday morning at work will not be as awkward as he fears.