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Matt walks into Josie's with She-Hulk in tow.
"Uh," Foggy says eloquently, looking up at the 6'7" green woman wearing a tasteful maroon pantsuit. "Hi."
"Foggy, this is Jennifer Walters," Matt says breezily, gesturing to her as she takes a seat on a stool. Her bent knees bump the underside of the bar. Foggy winces on behalf of her pantsuit, thinking of all the wads of gum he's personally stuck under that bar.
"Nice to meet you, Foggy," She-Hulk says, extending a green hand. Her nails are long and painted a more kelly shade of green.
"Much obliged." Foggy takes her hand gingerly. Her grip feels pretty normal; she must have worked at that.
He takes a sip of beer as a stalling tactic, then sets it down carefully on the napkin he was doodling on. "Matt, sidebar?" he asks as casually as he can. "I had a quick question about the Hernandez case."
"Yeah, of course," Matt says, leaning his cane against the bar. "Excuse us for just a minute, Jen."
"No problem, it'll give me time to get acquainted with whatever gasoline this place is calling tequila," She-Hulk says with an easy smile. Her teeth are blindingly white against her chartreuse lipstick.
Matt takes Foggy by the elbow and lets himself be led to the booth in the corner, next to the jukebox.
"So, I guess I should have given you a heads up," Matt says mildly.
"Yeah, Matty." Foggy's fingers itch for his beer still sitting on the bar. "'Oh, Foggy, I met this lawyer at the courthouse who just left a corporate firm to start her own defense practice. Foggy, she seems great. Foggy, we should definitely meet her for a drink.'"
"I know." Matt's face is neutral, his mouth in a straight line. It's only the downward set of his eyebrows that give away his Catholic guilt. "Also I don't growl like that."
Foggy raises his own eyebrows and cocks his head, trusting Matt to sense his skepticism.
"Okay, I don't sound like that all the time."
Foggy just glares and intensifies his Batman voice. "‘Oh, Foggy, you know that lawyer we're meeting? She's amazing, Foggy, I think you'll really love her. I think she'd be really fun to hang out with.’"
"She is amazing, I do think you'll love her–"
"‘Oh, Foggy, she might make a really great third.’"
"Okay, yes, maybe it was at that point that I should have–"
"–Told me that this lawyer was twice as tall as me and as strong as, like, Thor? Yeah, probably, Matty."
"What does that have to do with it?"
"‘Here lies Foggy Nelson, fucked to death–’"
"Oh, come on, Fog, that's not fair. You wouldn't be saying that if I brought home Steve Rogers."
"No, I wouldn't! Because Steve seems like a very tender lover! Meanwhile, at your seven o’clock I'm watching She-Hulk slug down shots of Josie's eel like they're the tiny cups of water they give marathon runners."
Matt cocks his head, the hypersensitive bastard. "She's nursing a single shot of Jose Cuervo. For Josie's selection, I'd say that indicates a refined taste. Fitting for a Harvard Law grad."
"Jesus, you send a scrappy orphan to the Ivy League for seven measly years and suddenly he's Thurston Howell the Third."
Matt sighs his "Foggy is referencing Gilligan's Island to reduce someone to an unflattering stereotype again" sigh. "Look, she's great. She is, by all accounts, gorgeous, absolutely brilliant, and I know for a fact that she's sexy as hell. And you're the one who's always asking me to throw you around. I'm not a young man anymore."
"You're 32 and you're a ninja superhero."
Matt tips his head, his eyebrows raised as he delivers his closing statement. "I'm not a Hulk."
Foggy slouches in his seat and sneaks a glance at Jennifer over Matt's shoulder. Even in a shithole like Josie's, sipping Cuervo, she looks elegant and composed. Foggy imagines her in court, delivering a fierce cross-ex, dismantling a witness to their very core. He imagines her in the field, punching a hole in a Doombot's chest.
He imagines her holding Foggy up against a wall roughly, leaving him bare and exposed as Matt regards him, the picture of he and Jen together, hungry and flushed.
Foggy looks back to Matt across the booth. He sighs as if he's reluctant, but he knows that Matt is probably reading his heart and body temperature and isn't fooled.
Matt smirks. Bastard.
Foggy gets up and heads back over to the bar, not bothering to pretend to lead his smug partner.
"Hey, Jen!" he calls. "You ever drink an eel?"