Foggy knew Matt was seeing someone. A hop made its way into his steps and the doofus grin was more than a dead give-away. Matt only smiled like that when he was in a serious kind of relationship, one where he forgot that most of the world wasn't blind and could actually read a person's thoughts based on their facial expressions. He left at odd hours claiming personal business and wouldn't return until well into the afternoon neighboring on evening. Both his grin and tie were loose, hair combed by fingers. It was an unmistakable, "I just got laid" smile.

Then he had the gall to say he was taking care of chores he hadn't finished. Worst of all Matt thought he was actually getting away with it. He may not have graduated top of his class like Matt had but Franklin Nelson was no imbecile.

"So when do I get to meet the lucky lady?" Foggy inquired with a casual sort of tone. He'd learned long ago that Matt had the fearless attitude of a Doberman but when asked personal questions he shut down and hid. Strange contradictory but one came to accept these quirks about Matt. He also made sure to ask this when Matt was heading out the door so the man knew he had an exit. Surprising how such a bold man had to be treated like a soufflé.

A silence passed between the pair broken only by the tired whirl of an overhead fan. Foggy pulled at the back of his shirt collar and he was sure the sweat there had nothing to do with today's heat wave. He'd seen more penguins with stunned composure than Matt had.

"There's no lady," he answered after too long of a pause. Foggy snorted.

"Sure, okay." He'd bet good money she was someone he knew. Matt went through women like they were on a turn-table and for the most part Foggy didn't care about that. However, not everyone was quite as accepting. If the woman wanted to keep her privacy it wasn't his place to pry.

But still, goading Matt couldn't hurt. "Hate to break it to you, buddy but you fly in here half the time like the cat moved in with the canary. You're not too good with subtly."

"I have my moments."

Foggy shook his head. Whatever that was supposed to mean. "Just tell her I'd like to meet the woman who makes Matt Murdock skip."

"I do not skip."

"Yes you do! Like a little school girl!" He flapped his hands in the imitation of a twittering teen. Matt laughed as he continued out of their shared office. Foggy kept his fingers crossed that he'd see the little lady soon.

A week later his request was answered, though not as Foggy anticipated.

An anxious Matt caught Foggy as he closed up shop. Two things were wrong with the movement – Matt was never anxious about anything and two he hadn't shown up for closing in months. Foggy calmed himself for bad news.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you," Matt started and waited till Foggy replied with a quick, 'Okay'. "I am seeing someone."

"See, is that too hard?" Foggy encouraged. Matt scowled.

"And they want to meet you. Today." By his actions Matt would rather have a root canal. Stunned by both his friend's sudden meek turn and Matt's willingness to include him in his life, Foggy clapped Matt's shoulder and offered a joyful grin that didn't lose its warmth on the blind man. In spite of being blind, Matt had a sixth sense of emotion.

"Well, let's not keep her waiting."

Matt looked to speak but Foggy already dashed away for his own coat and paperwork he was going to complete at home. He stopped by the restroom to splash his face. Foggy wanted to make a respectable impression on Matt's new gal. He hadn't met the last few and he could tell this one was something special. Not since their first weeks with Karen had Foggy seen Matt so happy. To be given the privilege of meeting this mystery woman was beyond awesome.

He returned to where Matt waited and the pair set off for a near pizza dinner where they would meet Matt's date. August's heat wave hadn't let up any and their twenty minute walk felt further than it was.

"So tell me about here? What's she like?"

"She?"

"This gal we're meeting!" Foggy scoffed. He wasn't walking in this heat to chat with the Queen of England . . . though that would be a fine reason. Despite being blind Matt seemed only to date attractive women; tall blondes, busty redheads, exotic oriental flowers, and a combination of stereotypical beauty. Frankly, Foggy didn't think it was fair to waste such eye-candy on a blind man.

"Nice. Really nice. A little childish and tells bad jokes. I think the two of you will get along fine."

"Gee, thanks for the left-handed compliment! Nice to know you think so highly of me."

Both men laughed as they neared "Donny DiNozo's Pizza Parlor". Foggy straightened his shirt and flattened his hair. He moved to open the door but Matt stopped him. After all these years he wasn't surprised Matt knew where his hand was.

"This . . . might be a bit of a surprise. No matter how you react you are my best friend Franklin, and you know I don't toss that title around."

Foggy gulped. This was serious as a heart attack – Matt never used his real name outside of the courtroom. Although pleased to hear the friendship comment Foggy couldn't help but feel there was a catch. He half expected Matt to say, 'But wait, there's more!'

"Yeah," despite the humidity his throat was dry. "You too. You're my best friend too, Matt. Unless your girl is an eighty year old cougar, we're good."

Matt offered a strained grin and opened the door. Foggy followed as Matt made his way to the hostess (he didn't bother to question how Matt knew his way). "Donny DiNoso's" was a medium scale hotspot. Family fun in atmosphere but not kiddy, the place drew a crowd of college students who wanted to eat outside of large establishments but stay on the grid. It was a place Foggy and Matt might have frequented if they were younger.

Well his cougar theory was out.

"Two adding to Parker," Matt said to a chipper hostess. She beamed and led the way to a table marooned in the middle of the establishment. A young brunette man stood and waved with a high, energetic arc. Foggy thought nothing of it and scanned for a woman in Matt's type when the stranger hopped over the pair and caught Matt in a quick kiss. The bottom of Foggy's stomach fell out and he was sure his jaw was on its way to China.

"Franklin Nelson, I'd like you to meet my partner, Peter Parker," Matt announced, his hand woven with the boy's. Peter Parker flushed pink as a cat's nose and stretched his unoccupied hand for Foggy's who complied on autopilot.
"It's nice to finally meet you in person Franklin. Matt's told me a lot about you."

"Foggy, please," he replied while his mind wandered out the window. This had to be a joke. Matt couldn't possibly. . . Not with all those women he. . . Never in Foggy's wildest nightmares had he thought. . .

"Y-you're gay." Foggy's vice pitched like a ship at sea, face as white as a sail. Peter looked startled and stared between the two attorneys.

"You're not out?" Peter hissed in panic. Matt frowned and their serving girl made a U-turn away.

"Please, let's sit," he said instead and detached from Peter. Scrambling like a nervous cadet at sea, the younger man took his seat and Foggy followed at a wounded pace. This was all a little much. Foggy felt eyes on his back from the other customers and a booth-less table had never felt more oppressive. The walls themselves were careening down on the group. Atlas' struggle to hold up the Earth paled in comparison.

Their menus were set and drinks ordered: two beers for the attorneys and a milkshake for Peter. How old was this kid? He didn't look much out of high school.

No one spoke as the waitress returned with the drinks; neither did they take their meal orders and the waitress hurried off with a promise to return when they were ready. Peter slurped at his milkshake while his eyes bounced around the room. He didn't focus on any one object for more than a moment. Foggy stared at his beer and watched the bubbles rise and fizzle. The ice in Matt's drink was noisy.

"Anything you want on the menu?" he asked. Swallowing a large frog in his throat, Foggy peered over the list. All the words and prices swam together. He chose the first pictured pizza, a 'Not-So-Soy veggie with bacon'. There were alternative restaurants for you.

"Matt, do you need to know what's on the menu?" Foggy asked to busy his mind off the new knowledge he was drowning in.

"No. Peter and I frequent this place enough that I know what I want."

Well damn. Now he had images of the two men going on dates dancing through his head. They'd hold hands under the table and lean in close for a private kiss. Did they have a favorite table or switched every time they came? They'd kick each other's feet and share food as frequently as they shared each other's breath.

Foggy took a big gulp of his beer.

Their waitress returned and their orders were set, Greek Salad and bread-sticks for Matt and a Hawaiian/Meat-Lover with extra cheese and extra pineapple for Peter. Foggy pointed to the picture of his order. Words abandoned him.
"So how long have you known Matt?" Peter asked. Parker was a brave man for starting conversation. Either that or he was a man frightened by long silences. Foggy didn't blame him. "The way he tells it you've known each other forever."
"Something like that," Foggy answered. When he first met Matt it was because he needed help with his studies. Foggy helped again when punks at school picked on Matt because of his blindness. They changed schools to Harvard and after graduation opened 'Nelson and Murdock' together.

He cleared his throat. "How long have you known each other?"

"A few years but we only started seeing each other last month." Pink blushes bloomed out to Peter's ears and he glanced at Matt with an apologetic look. Then, coming to his senses that however good his hearing was, the man for a matter of fact was blind, Peter stared at the table like a Ouija-Board reveling secrets to the world.

"You've actually met Peter before," Matt chimed in. "He's a photographer for the Daily Bugle. His photo shoots and our cases sometimes overlap."

Frowning, Foggy tried to recall a time when he'd seen a shy brunette at court. He couldn't recall any. Peter Parker wasn't a man that stood out in anyone's radar – average build, average eyes, and average hair cut. Foggy hadn't even given him the time of day before he started sharing tongue with his best friend. Perhaps Matt could see more to the boy being blind than anyone with sight could. Matt knew what a person's heart looked like and if Peter Parker was good enough for Matt to consider introducing to him then kid must be alright.

The air changed around the group as Foggy ran over his thoughts and decided to give the couple his attention. Matt was his best friend, Foggy still believed that.

"Photography, huh? What got you into that?"

"Desperation, actually," Peter admitted with a chuckle. "After my Uncle passed money was tight around the house so I needed to get a job. No one wanted to hire a fourteen year-old so taking freelance pictures became the only option."

Wow, working at age fourteen. At age fourteen Foggy was playing baseball with the other kids on his block.

"Since then I've gotten more of a foothold in the paper. They let me take pictures of minor news now."

"Wait, minor? You mean at age fourteen they let you take pictures of major news?" It seemed a bit backwards and hard to believe. Matt just smirked like a man who's prized car was whistled at.

"Well . . . it was more like, 'Whoever takes a good picture of Spider-Man gets a cash reward.'"

Foggy would have to learn Mandarin with how often his jaw fell straight to China. "Spider-Man? You take pictures of Spider-Man?"

Petter nodded. "I'm not really supposed to talk about it . . .the two of us have an – an arrangement of sorts."

"No way. This I don't believe." Foggy snorted. Spider-Man was a notoriously bad superhero to take pictures of. One had better chance of adequate BigFoot photo shoots.

"Nope, not Joshin' you." Peter's smile was small and shy again.

"It's true," Matt assured.

"And how would you know that?" Low blow with the blind man card but the truth was a truth. Matt's grin was gaudy.

"I've heard his boss shout at him. 'Parker, more pictures of Spider-Man. I'm not paying you to take pictures of pigeons'."

"Mr. Jameson needs to work on his anger, it's not good for his health," Peter added with a loud slurp of his milkshake. "I have some pics on me now if you wanna see."

"Boy do I," Foggy agreed as Peter started rummaging through a warn backpack that had seen better days during the Great Depression. The seams threatened to tear loose at a spider's breath. Peter extracted a thousand dollar camera and Foggy had to wonder why Parker had been so stingy with money for his backpack. The most-expensive-camera-he'd-ever-seen-in-person was passed along. He could feel hundred dollar bills in the camera's weight. Engraved on the side was a solid block of brail. After running his fingers over it Foggy's heart jumped a little.

'Each Tap of the Shutters
Is the Tap of my Heart
Alongside yours'

Oh Lord, he was serious. Matt forked over a thousand dollars in this relationship and wrote really bad poetry. Foggy swallowed a lump in his throat and ignored Peter blushing again; just like he ignored Matt reaching across their table to hold the photographer's hand. He probably wasn't used to others understanding brail. Foggy knew Matt long enough that he was more fluent in bail than traditional English.

He focused on the first picture, a dramatic photo of Spider-Man in the mists of fighting two armed thugs, a third already blanketed in his web.

"Wow!" He fiddled with the laundry list of commands the camera had and finally found 'zoom'. The picture was exquisite. Peter had a real eye for the right moment – he could see the sweat on the thug's brows. Foggy was lucky enough to see Spider-Man twice, once swinging by and once scaling a building just as Foggy was closing up shop at 'Nelson and Murdock'. Seeing the red-and-blue clad superhero in such fine detail was breath taking. Spider-Man even looked like he was posing for the picture.

Since Peter said they had a working relationship maybe he was?

"Have you ever met Spider-Man, Matt?"

"Once or twice," he answered with a bemused laugh.

"You guys suck!" Foggy complained and move onto the next photo. A series of pictures showed Spider-Man's fight in rewind, the thug getting sprayed and one unbelievable shot of Spider-Man flipping two guys off his back like they were kittens. "These are great, Peter."

"Ehh, maybe you should give that back." Peter's suggestion was too meek for Foggy to hear.

More pictures of Spider-Man flashed by, the man leaping off a building and one of him crawling upside-down on a ceiling. How cool was that! They changed again to pictures of the docks at sunset, looking through a bird's nest at Central Park, profile of a man making felafel in the rain. Each shot was downright poetic – a little amateurish but beautiful. If Peter had proper training he could probably wow the city.

"Have you gone to school for this? You could make some real money with these."

"I – I should take the camera back now."

"Foggy, I'll let you in on a secret. It's better to listen to Peter than – "

The next photo was of a sleepy, half naked Matt reaching for the camera as he lay in bed; silken sheets carelessly gathered about his waist. Obvious red hairs trailed their way south from his chest to his groin. It wasn't the first time Foggy had seen Matt naked or in a compromising position (thay had been roommates in college) but seeing his long time friend now with the knowledge that Peter Parker was the man compromising Matt in the picture broke a gasket of Foggy's mind. His went blank as a snowdrift. Without thinking he continued with the motions of flipping through camera pictures. Matt again, asleep this time. Matt with a steaming mug at the edge of his roof, swathed in a plush Spider-Man themed robe. Matt, buck naked just after a shower. Matt reaching for Peter with an open palm (still naked) within his sleeping tank. Matt's and Peter's bodies entwined in nothing short of –

"'Not-So-Soy with Bacon'?" Their waitress had impeccable timing.

A startling red blush enveloped Foggy's face and spiraled down his neck. He all but shoved the camera into Peter's hands and moved his own aside for the waitress to place his meal down. Peter wore a similar expression and Matt was cackling again. Oh, that bastard.

"I warned you," Matt had the gall to say. Foggy jabbed a fork at him but had no words.

Matt was his best friend and he and Peter were good together. That didn't mean Foggy had to see them in the act. When Peter started showing up at 'Nelson and Murdock' so many times it was a regular occurrence, Foggy made a rule that there would be nothing more than kisses and hugs between the two within the premises of the building. Just to spite him, Matt grouped his boyfriend in plain sight. Peter's squawk of indignation was worth the mental scarring.

"You think he likes me?" Peter asked when he and Matt were on patrol. Peter didn't need to elaborate 'who', as they both watched Foggy on his way back to his apartment. Foggy was late at work again and neither man wanted him harmed on his jog home. What was the point of being a super hero if you couldn't be over protective of the people who knew you?

Matt scoffed with laughter. It was one of his more charming laughs, coffee with sugar instead of black. When he was really being sarcastic instead of sprinkled with it, people cried. "Foggy loves you. He thinks you'll put me on the straight and narrow."

Peter slugged Matt's shoulder. "Hey, maybe I will. I got you to cripple that guy last time instead of killing him. Maybe I'll make a decent vigilante out of you yet."

For that Matt smacked Peter's rump with his billy-club.