Here! Have some plot! Also some Claire!
Matt’s newest revelation didn’t change many things between him and Foggy. Casual meals and movies worked their ways into both of their schedules (a bit literally on Foggy’s end, as sometimes lunch appointments started making themselves in his planner before his eyes, with ink that smelled slightly of sulfur and hurt his eyes to look at for too long), conversation between them flowed easily, and Foggy continued to take none of Matt’s bullshit.

What was different however was how Matt would sometimes let slip the tiniest details about his work into their banter; a crashed server, a missed memo, a (literal) firing. Nothing huge, but it was fouling up his perfect record of keeping work separate from pleasure. None of this was on purpose, mind you, but there was this one mutinous part of Matt that was chomping at the bit to get Foggy angry enough to lash out at him.

Matt liked to think that this was his own morbid curiosity, as he knew rationally that revealing some of the gorier parts of his everyday life would ruin their relationship, and also because it’s easier to dismiss impulses if you don’t think about the very real want behind them. Still, some things are better left alone.

However, Matt failed to account for Foggy’s own curiosity, which was almost a force of nature by itself. Truth is, Foggy was burning to figure out what Matt did with his days. Every off-handed comment just drove him a bit closer to throwing caution to the wind and asking, but he always abstained.

Until one night, about a year into their arrangement, this urge came to a peak and in a fit of wisdom fueled by salty, greasy Chinese food, Foggy finally asked, “So what do you even do all day when you’re not here?”

Matt paused in his chewing, before swallowing and replying, “Excuse me?”

“Like, what’s your day job? Every time you’re here I always end up blabbering about what I’m doing and who can blame me for wanting to know what’s going on downstairs?”

Matt was not ready to have this conversation. Matt was never, in any way, ever going to be able to prepare for this conversation. Still, Matt would rather avoid having to come clean about this later, so poking at his meal he slowly answered, “I guess you could say I oversee all demonic activity. Who is stationed where, relations with other… parties, which humans are under Contracts, which humans we’d like under Contracts, that sort of thing.” Matt took a bite of Mu Shu pork for emphasis, trying to squash down the niggling feeling that accompanied lying to Foggy, even if it was only by omission.

Foggy stared across his coffee table at Matt, lips set in a firm line. “…that can’t be all.”

Matt tilted his head in a way that he had been told looked disarming. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t fall from Grace or whatever to become the regional manager at McDemons Inc.” Matt heard the swishing of Foggy’s chopsticks through the air. “What do you really do? I’m waving my chopsticks at you threateningly, FYI.”

“Oh no, not that,” Matt drawled, “Anything but tiny, little bamboo sticks. What am I to do?”

“Hmmm, answer my question honestly and I’ll consider mercy.” The tone was light, but it was obvious that the human wanted answers.

Matt chuckled, half to cover up his nerves. However even after that, Foggy’s expectant silence continued until Matt folded like a cheap suit.

“I… deal out retribution to sinners.”

“You got that off the back of a cereal box, didn’t you?”

“You lost me.”

“That was totally an answer for the press!” Foggy set down his take out box and leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. “Com on Matt, I know you’ve got this whole moral code that is apparently set in stone and a reputation for both a dislike of humans and an affinity for fire, brimstone and eternal torture, but cut the crap.”

“Foggy-“

“Let me finish please, and then the stage is all yours, buddy. Point is, I’m under no illusion of who I am talking to. I’ve heard the flowery verses about punishment and sinners, if not from you, then from a million other sources. And now that I know you, maybe not as well as I’d think but still, I think there’s more to that answer than I know.”

“…” Silence sat heavy in the room. Matt had halted all movement, his expression troubled. He opened his mouth, but snapped it shut after a few seconds. His face grew paler by the second, but his cheeks and ears started flaring a brilliant red. Foggy kept his eyes trained on him, not a detail escaping his sight. Finally, Foggy came to a conclusion.

“I shouldn’t have asked that, should I?” Foggy’s sheepish voice made Matt’s shoulders sag with relief.

“Probably not,” he muttered.

“Want to tap out of this conversation?” Under the table, Foggy nudged Matt’s bare foot with his own. “It’s totally fine if you do.”

“Yes, please. Sorry.” With each syllable, Matt’s shoulders inched up towards his ears, making Foggy frown. Was Matt really that ashamed?

“Totally my fault.” Foggy said, a thoughtful look still on his face. “I should’ve known my boundaries. You want to leave? I promise not to ask anything too intrusive if you don’t.”

It took Matt a while to answer. “I’ll… I’ll stay.” Matt’s posture remained ridged enough to make Foggy want to crack his own back in sympathy. He had to do something to fix this.

“Awesome. Now, I’ve got to tell you about this new client of ours. Her name’s Ms. Cárdenas, total sweetheart, but doesn’t speak a lot of English…”

Foggy didn’t comment on the fact that he saw Matt relax into the couch as he continued to talk, figuring that saying anything about it would make the other uncomfortable. Neither of them noticed their feet resting against each other’s under the coffee table.

—

“Mr. Nelson?” Karen’s voice made Foggy look up from his computer and look at the blond peeking into his office.

“Yes, Miss Page?” His grin was apparent in his voice; they both hated being called anything but their given names. They must have a visitor.

Karen didn’t smile back, which was odd; almost immediately Foggy’s face dropped. Her eyes seemed a bit too distant for his liking. “What is it?”

“There’s a Ms. Temple here to see you.”

Foggy frowned, he couldn’t place the name. “Send her in please.” Karen nodded before slipping back into the main room. The woman that strode in after her was all business. There was not a hair out of place from her neat pony tail to her ironed slacks and sensible flats. Her eyes were quick and relentless in running over the office, mercilessly chasing out every detail she could find and pinning it down.

Foggy knew exactly what he was dealing with immediately.

“Are you one of Matt’s people?”

The woman hummed, eyes sliding to Foggy, pretending to notice him for the first time. “I am.”

Foggy leaned back in his chair. “What can I do for you…?”

The woman smiled, slow and slick like an oil spill. “Clair Temple will do. Now, I have a simple favor to ask of you.”

Foggy’s eyebrows lifted. “Isn’t the whole idea of dealing with demons that you do something for me?”

Ms. Temple snorted, a grimace on her face. “If that’s your idea of how to get a soul onto your side, then yes.” She pinned Foggy with another look, “And you could have done so much more with a soul like that.”

Foggy would be lying if he said he wasn’t unsettled. “And you know this how?”

The flat look he received was impressive. “Gusion,” Ms. Temple deadpanned, “if you’re up-to-date on your demonology that name might help you.”

Foggy nodded absently as he scribbled the name down on a handy Post-it note. “I’ll be sure to look that up. Now, what can I do for you.”

“First off, go to Ms. Cárdenas’s apartment tomorrow early.” She help up a hand when Foggy opened his mouth to question, “Just do it, for all of our sake’s. Secondly…”

It’s hard to explain what exactly happened next. On this plane, Ms. Temple reached across Foggy’s desk and placed two fingertips against Foggy’s forehead, who suddenly found it much harder to move. Foggy felt a shiver of something roll over his entire body but before he could question it, the contact was gone and Ms. Temple was brushing some imaginary dust off of her slacks.

On another plane however, a hole in the shape of a human soul suddenly took up residence in one of its dustier corners, invisible to this other plane’s inhabitants.

In Hell, Matt paused in his movements over a soul he had strung out over the rack. Something with his contract with Foggy had shifted. He concentrated a bit harder on the feeling.

Ah, just Gusion making the necessary preparations. She always was good at that.

Back on Earth, Foggy blinked. “You going to tell me what that was about?”

“No,” Ms. Temple said flippantly, “It’ll be more entertaining for me if I don’t.” Foggy sighed, of course she wouldn’t. The demon continued, “I’ll see myself out. Miss Page won’t remember me coming, and the charm she’s under won’t last much longer. An hour tops.”

Foggy frowned, “That can’t be kosher.” Ms. Temple shrugged, already headed out the door. “Pleasure meeting you,” she called over her shoulder.

And just like that, Foggy was alone again.

When asked about the incident later, Matt had just shrugged, which was innocent enough until Foggy noted that his ears were red enough to stop traffic. Really, Foggy grumped to himself, Matt had no right going about being that bad at lying; it was embarrassing. Cute, sure, but that wasn’t the point. Mostly it was embarrassing.