It was kind of turning into a thing, and Foggy wasn't sure how he felt about it.

The thing that was turning into a thing were cute people being accused of something they swore they didn't do, Matt smiling at them, and they falling for it, hook, line, and sinker.

The person, in this case, was a boy, probably a student, couple of years younger than them, and he totally looked like Bambi. Big brown eyes, and mouth always a little open, hair sticking out everywhere, the slightest desperate air about him and, of course, Matt said they'd take his case.

The kid, of course, didn't have any money.

Why did Foggy even bother anymore?

X

The thing with Matt being a superhero by night was that, by day, Foggy had to carry a lot of extra weight in the firm, because his partner got beaten up, or cut up, or shot at, or a combination of all three. The problem with that was also that, as a good New Yorker, he didn't drive (not that he could afford a car, anyway, with all the 'your smile and happiness is my payment' kind of paycheck Matt kept getting from cute people in general), so he walked around a lot, usually late at night.

You know who also has that same kind of habit? Muggers.

Muggers walk around late at night, usually trying to mug people who also walk around late at night.

Normally, Foggy was quick enough to run away, or alert enough to notice some guy coming at him, but tonight he was tired and cranky, and he didn't notice until the guy had thrown him against a wall and asked for his wallet.

He was about to ask where the hell was his superhero bestie was when the mugger was thrown off of him and got his ass thoroughly kicked.

He was about to thank Matt when he saw the guy was shorter than Matt.

The guy also had glowing red eyes and fur.

Plus: no eyebrows.

His wallet was given back to him and… wolf… person… thing went away, jumping up a building like he was freaking Ezio or something.

Sighing, he decided he needed a drink and not to think about this kind of shit anymore.

X

Of course that didn't happen.

X

Bambi Guy kept coming back, and Foggy didn't even want to know. He just… he didn't.

He's more careful, though, now. He doesn't tell Matt he was almost mugged in an alley, because he'll never hear the end of it; but he starts carrying a can of pepper spray around – not that it really stops bad people from coming after him.

He'll give it to them, though – it's not reeeally about him walking around late at night: it's about him and Matt putting Fisk in jail, and also about him and Matt getting all the corruption/mob/bad guys related cases. There are a lot of people mad at them, and as they can't seem to find Matt, they come after Foggy.

Foggy, who's developing a serious damsel in distress complex, because Glowy Eyes Guy keeps coming back and helping him.

Which means that when he gets to help Glowy Eyes Guy, he feels a little, you know, avenged.

Not that it's intentional, because it isn't – he's left the office earlier, for once, and he hears gunshots, and runs towards it, because he's an idiot. All he sees is a fancy SUV speeding away, and Glowy Eyes Guy on the ground, bleeding black stuff.

"Sty… Style…" the guy gasps out, clearly in great pain, and Foggy giggles out of desperation.

"You're sure going with style, buddy, what with the black blood and all."

Glowy Eyes Guy shakes his head weakly, and then shoves his phone in Foggy's hands, screen in an accepted call.

"Derek? DEREK?" says a voice on the other end, and Foggy takes in a deep breath.

"Ahm, hey. Hi. I've got your… Derek? Here? Can I… ahm… take him somewhere, so he doesn't, you know, die?" he finishes a bit hysterically and the guy on the other end calms down a bit and rattles off an address.

Foggy gets Glowy Eyes… well, Derek, apparently (and, seriously, what kind of superhero name is Derek? At least Matt Murdock is kind of… dignified. Like Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov – but Derek?) and gets him into a cab, all the while trying to pass off his state as a drunk person. The driver doesn't even look at them right, and gets them to the address in no time because, guess what? Stylish person on the phone over there lives, like, ten minutes away from their office.

Derek is clearly fading when they get to the right apartment, and before Foggy can even knock the door is open, and there, stained in paint and the palest face, is Bambi Guy.

What the hell?

"Fuck, Derek, couldn't you freaking hear the hunters? I told you they were around, I swear to God", Bambi Guy curses his way into the apartment, supporting half of Derek's weight, and Foggy just kind of hangs around while he watches Bambi guy burning some sort of dust in a small dish, bringing it to Derek and shoving it at his wound.

Foggy kind of wants to protest, but he doesn't have the heart, because Derek starts yelling soon after, but it lasts less than a minute, and then his wound is closing up.

"Thank you", Derek gasps at him, and now Foggy finally notices he doesn't have fur, or red eyes, and he actually has eyebrows, and wow, Glowy Eyes Guy is hot.

"What were you even doing out, anyway? You knew the Calaveras were after us."

Foggy has no idea what a Calavera is, but it doesn't sound good while coupled with the word hunter and also the fact that Derek was shot by them. He doesn't really know Bambi Eyes, nor Derek, but the guy saved his life a couple of times, so he's inclined to put him in the Good Guys column.

Derek mumbles something, and Stiles snorts.

"Yeah, see, the whole point of you watching over him is so he can be safe, and you getting shot and having your crush drag you back home? Not making your lover boy safe, buddy."

Foggy thinks he should answer to that, because clearly the guy got the wrong impression, but Derek smirks at the other guy instead.

"You can talk, stalking around Red Suit Guy, trying to put up magical protection in his office and pass it off as being in need of legal help."

"You're stalking Matt?" it's the part Foggy's brain can process, because he's pretty sure he just heard "magical" being used unironically, and he's not sure he's ready to handle that.

"I'm not stalking him!" Bambi Guy answers, a bit too quickly, "I'm just trying to, well, help him along. He goes around in that red suit and—"

"No red suit. No more red suit business, because if I hear you talking about his butt in the suit one more time—"

"Yeah, you're one to talk,Oh, Stiles, he is so beautiful, and kind, and have you seen his eyes?"

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

"Ok!" Foggy intervenes before both of them transform into five-year-old boys in front of him, "Someone needs to explain to me what is going on here, in a rational and factual manner, before I decide this is not my business, and inform my partner he's being stalked by… a Style."

"Stiles, dude. Stiles. It's my name."

"Your name is Stiles?" he can't quite keep the judgement out of his voice, but Bambi Guy doesn't even try to keep his own judgement out of his face.

"You go by Foggy?"

"Fair enough."

He stares at them, and notices Derek is not as pale, his wounds are closed up, and the black… stuff has stopped coming out, although it's drying on his shirt and it's gross. He must make a face, because Derek looks down, winces and takes off his shirt, getting up to, probably, get a clean one out of what Foggy is going to assume is his room.

He stares a bit, and hears Stiles snort, with a quiet show off thrown in.

Foggy shakes his head and looks at Bambi.

"So, what's up with you two?"

"Well, we moved to New York about a year and a half ago. We used to live in Queens, but… turns out spiders and wolves do not coexist well together, so we had to leave."

"And you chose Hell's Kitchen?" Foggy can't keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Hey, until a year ago, this was a calm enough place. Then it all went to hell, and Derek started… prowling."

"Don't be overdramatic," Derek says, coming back from his room, clean (black) shirt on.

"Says the werewolf who almost bled out in his crush's arms."

"Crush?!" Foggy asks, surprise clear in his voice, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

"Sure, I mention werewolves, but that is the part you focus on."

"Werewolves?" he repeats, and Derek looks down, sheepish.

Stiles stares from one to the other, gets up and grabs his keys.

"This is so not my show. I'm off."

"Happy stalking!" Derek shouts at him sarcastically.

"Happy explaining to the Lawyer that you have a crush on him because you like the way he smells!" Stiles yells back before shutting the door behind him.

On the couch, Derek's blushing.

And here Foggy thought there wouldn't be anything weirder in his life than his best friend being a superhero.