Foggy knew that he had to start putting specific rules down when Joey cursed at the age of two. It wasn't like he could put a list of them up on the fridge, but if he had to pin Matt down and tell him the rules, he would.

Matt had the nerve to act confused.

"Swear…. I don't swear."

"Don't pull any of that Catholic… stuff with me." Foggy snarled, "You do swear, in fact, you swore last night when you climbed in through the window, fell to the floor and said the S word very loudly. So loudly, that our son heard."

"Joey has only just turned two, I don't think we really need to- "

"- He said it this morning… the S word."

Matt was clearly biting back a smirk, "Oh? Precocious little thing, huh?"

"He said it in front of Mum, Matty!"

"And what was her reaction?" Matt imagined she probably found it hilarious, trying to scold Joey, whilst laughing at the same time

"She yelled at me. Me! For something that's your fault!" Foggy jabbed Matt in the chest, "I tried apologising, but she wouldn't listen!"

Matt frowned, "I don't think I've ever heard your Mum shouting?" Probably Foggy just over-reacting, just a little bit, "But I am sorry. I honestly don't mean to curse, but a mugger got in a lucky shot and I banged it against the window-sill and- "

"- So, you admit that you need to watch your mouth?"

Matt winced, knowing that he had walked right into that one. "I'll… be more careful coming home."

"No swearing!"

…

"Oh for… God's sake!"

"Hey!" Matt smirked, "If I can't curse, then you can't blaspheme."

"I didn't curse!"

"New rule. Cursing or blaspheming means that we have to put some money in the jar. Once the jar is full, we can always buy something nice for Joey."

"… Deal."

…

"I said- well, what I said isn't worth five dollars!"

Foggy rolled his eyes, "We're lawyers, I think we can afford it, especially with the nice little bonuses Stark gives us."

"… What if we have guests, would you make them pay a fiver?"

Foggy frowned, "Yeah, you're right. It's unfair to force our guests to pay that much. How about, one dollar when Joey's within hearing distance and fifty cents when he's not. How does that sound?"

When Matt smirked, reaching up to pull Foggy into a thankful kiss, there was a cry from the other room.

"DADDY! PAPA!"

"Damn it." Foggy whispered, prompting Matt to cackle and slap him lightly on the arm.

"Fifty cents in the jar. Your rule, remember?"

Foggy just moved away, flipping him the bird, and ignoring the victorious cry that he needed to add another fifty cents to the jar.

….

"Shit." Matt hissed under his breath, as his braille reader coughed and spluttered before falling completely dead.

Foggy frowned, glancing up from where he was playing with Joey. "What was that?"

"The braille reader…" Matty hissed, "… it's died, and I need to finish reading up on this case before our meeting tomorrow. And don't even mention me putting a dollar in the jar… please!" Slowly, he pushed his way away from the table and slowly made his way over to his son's playtime table.

"Hey Joey…" he whispered, taking a seat next to the toddler as Foggy made his way over to the braille reader in the hope that maybe he could fix it. "…. what are you drawing?"

"A car."

Matt would have to take his word for it, watching as Joey reached out for his toy car again, using it as a basis for his drawing. Despite being blind himself, Joey's drawing's were apparently "very good", so said the day-care worker.

"Shit!" Foggy cursed, a lot louder than Matt had, "Shit, it's completely dead. Looks like I'm going to have to read them out to you for a while whilst we get a new one."

Before Matt could answer, Joey decided that this would be the perfect time to speak up.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Both Matt and Foggy glanced over at their son in horror

"Shit! Shit!"

"No Joey!" Foggy quickly scolded, "Don't say that. Remember what Grandma said?"

"… Shit?"

"Don't. Say. That."

Joey frowned, before turning his attention back to his drawing and continuing to say "shit" quietly under his breath. Foggy turned to Matt and glared at him, knowing full well that his partner knew he was being glared at.

"This is your fault you know." He hissed.

"You didn't exactly help!"

…

Foggy sighed wearily as he read over the same sentence for the thirtieth time in a row. With the braille reader out of commission, he was having to do twice as much work in order to keep up with everything.

As they waited for the new one to arrive, Matt was more than happy to do what he could for work and look after Joey at the same time.

Unless of course, he had to recover from his midnight activities…. Like now.

So, Foggy was left with dealing with emails (many of them marked URGENT) and keep an eye on a hyperactive toddler at the same time. For the moment, Joey was playing with his building blocks, and had been for the last half hour.

And then Foggy felt a tugging on the back of his jumper.

"Daddy. Daddy… bored!"

Foggy resisted the urge to sigh.

"You can't be bored, didn't Grandma only get you those yesterday or something?"

"Tower fell."

"Why don't you build a house instead?"

"Boring."

"Why don't you play with your cars instead?"

"Okay!" Joey slowly made his way back over to his toy box, pulling out all his cars and playing with them… for about five minutes before he was back.

"T'irsty."

"Your juice is on your table remember? Remember what we taught you? About reaching for it slowly so you don't knock it over?"

He watched his son out of the corner of his eyes, beaming when the toddler successfully managed to grab his cup and drink the juice inside. Seconds later however, he was back next to Foggy again. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked, taking another gulp.

"Working. Important lawyer stuff, you know."

"I have go?"

"I thought you were playing with your cars?"

"No. Wanna help." Joey pouted… which was just adorable, and Foggy could not be blamed for crumbling so easily.

"…. Come on then." Foggy pushed the chair back slightly so that Joey could clamber onto his lap. As Joey reached out for where he knew the keyboard to be, Foggy winced at how sticky the fingers were as they reached out. Just before those sticky fingers could make contact with the keyboard, Foggy gently grabbed his wrist and pulled him away.

"Ah, ah, ah." First lesson, you never touch a computer with sticky paws like these. Come on, let's go and wash them."

With the hand washing complete (with Foggy's shirt only slightly soaked), the two settled back in front of the computer. After listening to Foggy type for a few moments, Joey leaned forwards to have his own go, tapping out a few nonsensical words as he giggled in delight.

"What say? What say?"

"…. You've made a compelling argument for the defence. Come on, let me explain it to you."

"Shit!"

"No… not shit."