Hey folks! I decided to put this half of the chapter up now since it's done and you guys have been SO PATIENT with me (thank you so much) and it keeps getting longer and I keep revising the second half so much that it might take a while to get out. In other news, chapter 13 is going to be the last linear chapter of this series, and is going to be followed by 5 or 6 snapshots of Matt and Foggy's relationship developing in Hell and what this new period holds for the both of them. Note! This fic will be posted on ao3 once it's completely done AND will have the playlist that I've been talking about attached so keep an eye out for that. That's it from me!
The duo was able to find a relatively quiet cafe a few minutes’ walk from Foggy's new place. Their walk was mostly silent, Foggy taking in the sights and smells around him and definitely seeing what Matt was taking about when he compared Purgatory to New York.
Dave lead him up to a hole-in-the-wall shop where the idle chatter and exposed brick of the walls echoed nicely, the drinks were bordering on obscenely overpriced, and the smell of impending caffeine reminded Foggy of just how tired he was. The familiarity of the place was jarring to Foggy; he'd seen this scene many times. It was in these sorts of shops that he spent a majority of his finals weeks in.
While Dave ordered their drinks, Foggy picked his way over to an empty table, slightly away from the other patrons. He took a few moments to look around him. Sitting at the table closest to him were of three women, bickering over which of Hitchcock’s post-mortem movies were best.
It was then that Dave set Foggy's latte in front of him, starling him out of his thoughts.
As he watched his ex-coworker settle down into the seat across from him, Foggy suddenly noted how jittery the other seemed, hands fluttering over his own espresso cup and eyes incessantly darting anywhere but to Foggy himself. Despite himself, he felt a pang of guilt.
"I'm sorry if I forced you into coming out today," Foggy started.
Dave let out a shuddering breath. "No, no, it's fine."
Foggy eyed the other before deadpanning, "It's not, is it?"
Dave gulped, staring into his cup. Despite Foggy's unasked question, he said nothing in response. The human knew he would have to take another route.
"How have you been? I haven't heard from you in a while."
The question made Dave twitch. "I've been fine," he answered carefully, eyes still on his cup, "A bit busy since L&Z picked up a few big-name clients.”
Foggy hummed in response. “I heard you’re getting a lot of business after that politician was sacked a few years ago. What was his name? Frisk? The one who wanted to gentrify Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Fisk,” Dave corrected. “Many of his… associates came to us for their cases.”
“Aaaah, that makes sense.”
The two fell into an awkward silence. Foggy took a sip from his latte and grimaced. It really was overpriced.
“Mr. Nelson…” Dave’s hesitant question made Foggy’s attention return to the demon across from him.
“That’s my father,” Foggy chided, more good-naturedly than reprimanding, “Nothing’s changed there.”
If anything, the look on Dave’s face got even more pinched. “But it has,” Dave murmured, before visibly starting at his own words and quickly backpedaling. “Not that that’s a bad thing I simply mean— I mean that your situation has changed and you—”
“Dave,” Foggy interrupted, “I’m a lawyer. Well, was, but you get the idea. My job is to tell when people are lying.” Here the human pinned Dave with a ‘please just stop’ look that had him squirming.
“Now,” Foggy sighed, “Could you please tell me what exactly has changed?”
Dave seemed to mull the question over before venturing, “You… know who that was, right? In your apartment?”
“Yes, I know who Matt is.” Foggy said, perhaps a bit sharply.
“Then you know,” Dave paused a bit, obviously aiming for dramatic, “That he’s Satan, not ‘Matt.’”
Foggy almost rolled his eyes at his efforts. “I know Matt is Satan, yes.”
Dave almost choked on his own spit, “You— you knowingly— Foggy you knew he’s Satan and you sassed him! That— That’s—”
“Reckless, ill-advised, and none of your concern.” Despite himself, Foggy felt his nerves fraying. He wanted answers; he was tired of feeling in the dark. “Now could you please tell me what’s going on? What was that production on my doorstep? What’s with this ‘homage’ business? More importantly, why haven’t you looked at me since we got here?”
If possible, Dave stiffened further. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A scream almost wormed its way out of Foggy’s throat. “You damn well do,” he accused, slipping into his ‘I’m a professional and you will treat me like it’ voice with practiced ease. “And I would really appreciate it if I didn’t have to use my apparently impressive position of power that I had no idea about until 20 minutes ago to get these answers out of you.”
Foggy’s words had the desired effect. “You’re my superior!” Dave’s panicked admission was whispered, but his eyes remained downcast. “I’m not even supposed to interact with you; you’re that high up! I mean—” Dave ran his hands through his hair, gripping tightly and exhaling shakily.
“Foggy, the Boss likes you! What did you do?”
“I made a Deal,” Foggy explained slowly, “It’s what people do with demons.”
“With demons, Foggy. Satan isn’t a demon; he can make deals and collect on them, but he isn’t bound to fulfill them. And it barely happens nowadays! You humans have a legend about the last guy who did that. You can still hear the poor bastard screaming on some floors of The Pillar.”
“Then he must have done something awful.” Foggy quipped.
“He didn’t! He just wanted to get the hang of chemistry! Which brings me to my second point.” Now that he started, Dave seemed unable to stop even at risk of being rude. “Matt, Satan, whatever you call him, he hates humans, that— that’s his shtick! Why does he like you? Why did he create a new division just to put you at the head? That makes no sense! You’re just a human! Foggy, you should have been strung out on the Rack the second you got here—” Dave’s voice here died in a pitiful gurgle, and Foggy was suddenly aware of just how many people around them had started talking.
However, the human just watched the demon as his expression slowly morphed from confused to horrified as he realized what he had just said, and to who. Foggy wasn’t above admitting that watching this particular revelation gave him an odd sense of satisfaction.
“I— I’m sorry. I was out of line.” Dave’s voice was quiet, barely a shadow of what it was a few seconds before.
Foggy just hummed noncommittally, and allowed them to fall into a silence as he took a long sip from his drink.
“OK, Dave,” Foggy said, decisively putting his latte down on the table between them, “Now that I know how you really feel, you’re going to answer my questions.”
He punctuated this statement with a smile, and the earlier satisfaction from getting Dave to crack only multiplied as he saw sweat break out on the other’s brow.
Applied Contract Law, 13 part 1/20-ish
The duo was able to find a relatively quiet cafe a few minutes’ walk from Foggy's new place. Their walk was mostly silent, Foggy taking in the sights and smells around him and definitely seeing what Matt was taking about when he compared Purgatory to New York.
Dave lead him up to a hole-in-the-wall shop where the idle chatter and exposed brick of the walls echoed nicely, the drinks were bordering on obscenely overpriced, and the smell of impending caffeine reminded Foggy of just how tired he was. The familiarity of the place was jarring to Foggy; he'd seen this scene many times. It was in these sorts of shops that he spent a majority of his finals weeks in.
While Dave ordered their drinks, Foggy picked his way over to an empty table, slightly away from the other patrons. He took a few moments to look around him. Sitting at the table closest to him were of three women, bickering over which of Hitchcock’s post-mortem movies were best.
It was then that Dave set Foggy's latte in front of him, starling him out of his thoughts.
As he watched his ex-coworker settle down into the seat across from him, Foggy suddenly noted how jittery the other seemed, hands fluttering over his own espresso cup and eyes incessantly darting anywhere but to Foggy himself. Despite himself, he felt a pang of guilt.
"I'm sorry if I forced you into coming out today," Foggy started.
Dave let out a shuddering breath. "No, no, it's fine."
Foggy eyed the other before deadpanning, "It's not, is it?"
Dave gulped, staring into his cup. Despite Foggy's unasked question, he said nothing in response. The human knew he would have to take another route.
"How have you been? I haven't heard from you in a while."
The question made Dave twitch. "I've been fine," he answered carefully, eyes still on his cup, "A bit busy since L&Z picked up a few big-name clients.”
Foggy hummed in response. “I heard you’re getting a lot of business after that politician was sacked a few years ago. What was his name? Frisk? The one who wanted to gentrify Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Fisk,” Dave corrected. “Many of his… associates came to us for their cases.”
“Aaaah, that makes sense.”
The two fell into an awkward silence. Foggy took a sip from his latte and grimaced. It really was overpriced.
“Mr. Nelson…” Dave’s hesitant question made Foggy’s attention return to the demon across from him.
“That’s my father,” Foggy chided, more good-naturedly than reprimanding, “Nothing’s changed there.”
If anything, the look on Dave’s face got even more pinched. “But it has,” Dave murmured, before visibly starting at his own words and quickly backpedaling. “Not that that’s a bad thing I simply mean— I mean that your situation has changed and you—”
“Dave,” Foggy interrupted, “I’m a lawyer. Well, was, but you get the idea. My job is to tell when people are lying.” Here the human pinned Dave with a ‘please just stop’ look that had him squirming.
“Now,” Foggy sighed, “Could you please tell me what exactly has changed?”
Dave seemed to mull the question over before venturing, “You… know who that was, right? In your apartment?”
“Yes, I know who Matt is.” Foggy said, perhaps a bit sharply.
“Then you know,” Dave paused a bit, obviously aiming for dramatic, “That he’s Satan, not ‘Matt.’”
Foggy almost rolled his eyes at his efforts. “I know Matt is Satan, yes.”
Dave almost choked on his own spit, “You— you knowingly— Foggy you knew he’s Satan and you sassed him! That— That’s—”
“Reckless, ill-advised, and none of your concern.” Despite himself, Foggy felt his nerves fraying. He wanted answers; he was tired of feeling in the dark. “Now could you please tell me what’s going on? What was that production on my doorstep? What’s with this ‘homage’ business? More importantly, why haven’t you looked at me since we got here?”
If possible, Dave stiffened further. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A scream almost wormed its way out of Foggy’s throat. “You damn well do,” he accused, slipping into his ‘I’m a professional and you will treat me like it’ voice with practiced ease. “And I would really appreciate it if I didn’t have to use my apparently impressive position of power that I had no idea about until 20 minutes ago to get these answers out of you.”
Foggy’s words had the desired effect. “You’re my superior!” Dave’s panicked admission was whispered, but his eyes remained downcast. “I’m not even supposed to interact with you; you’re that high up! I mean—” Dave ran his hands through his hair, gripping tightly and exhaling shakily.
“Foggy, the Boss likes you! What did you do?”
“I made a Deal,” Foggy explained slowly, “It’s what people do with demons.”
“With demons, Foggy. Satan isn’t a demon; he can make deals and collect on them, but he isn’t bound to fulfill them. And it barely happens nowadays! You humans have a legend about the last guy who did that. You can still hear the poor bastard screaming on some floors of The Pillar.”
“Then he must have done something awful.” Foggy quipped.
“He didn’t! He just wanted to get the hang of chemistry! Which brings me to my second point.” Now that he started, Dave seemed unable to stop even at risk of being rude. “Matt, Satan, whatever you call him, he hates humans, that— that’s his shtick! Why does he like you? Why did he create a new division just to put you at the head? That makes no sense! You’re just a human! Foggy, you should have been strung out on the Rack the second you got here—” Dave’s voice here died in a pitiful gurgle, and Foggy was suddenly aware of just how many people around them had started talking.
However, the human just watched the demon as his expression slowly morphed from confused to horrified as he realized what he had just said, and to who. Foggy wasn’t above admitting that watching this particular revelation gave him an odd sense of satisfaction.
“I— I’m sorry. I was out of line.” Dave’s voice was quiet, barely a shadow of what it was a few seconds before.
Foggy just hummed noncommittally, and allowed them to fall into a silence as he took a long sip from his drink.
“OK, Dave,” Foggy said, decisively putting his latte down on the table between them, “Now that I know how you really feel, you’re going to answer my questions.”
He punctuated this statement with a smile, and the earlier satisfaction from getting Dave to crack only multiplied as he saw sweat break out on the other’s brow.