"Harvey wants to see you," Donna called as Mike passed her desk.
"About the Hanthorn files?"
"Presumably."
"I have the with me," Mike said, triumphant smile spreading across his face as he patted his briefcase. Finally he was prepared for one of Harvey's tirades.
"They're supposed to be on his desk."
"In," Mike glanced at his watch, "three minutes."
"Nope. Two minutes ago."
"What? Seriously? I'm in trouble because my watch is five minutes fast?"
"Go, Mike."
"Right. Thanks, Donna. See you later," he called as he rushed into his boss' office.
"I have the files you wanted."
"They're late."
"Only by a few minutes!"
"Yeah? Well, you're lucky I don't need them for another three hours. Because if I needed them now, then I would be in the courthouse with no documents. Deadlines are everything to a lawyer, Mike."
"I know, and I'm sorry. But you won't be so mad at me once I show you what I've found."
"A way out?"
"Better," Mike smirked. "A smoking gun."
Just as they were about to delve into the files, Donna came over the phone speaker.
"Harvey? There's a call."
"Put them through."
"It's for Mike. It's his grandmother's nursing home."
Mike's heart jumped into his throat, and he had to clear it before speaking. "Uh, you can put them through," he said slowly, eyes locked onto Harvey who stood stone-faced, expressionless.
There was a pause as Donna transferred the call, then a woman's voice came through.
"Is this Michael Ross?"
"Yes."
"Hi, Michael. Is this an okay time?"
"Did something happen?"
"Honey, I am so sorry to tell you this, but..." Mike's heart sank. Harvey pushed a chair closer to Mike, and he sat in it heavily, elbows on his knees. "Michael, your grandfather is dead."
There was a long pause.
"What?"
"You have my condolences, if you'd like-"
"No, I mean what are you talking about? I don't have a grandfather."
"But..." the woman hesitated, and there was the sound of fingernails clicking on a keyboard. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. You're related to Edith Ross."
"Yes."
"I'm so-I can't believe that I- wow. This was a big misunderstanding. Jonathan Ross passed away today, and when I brought up the last name to call the relatives... But you're not related to Jonathan."
"No."
"I am so sorry to have bothered you."
"My grandmother's okay, though?"
The sound of the woman's fingernails against keys again, before, "Yes, your grandmother is fine. I'm sorry about the misunderstanding."
"It's fine. Extend my condolences to the family of Jonathan Ross."
"Sure thing. Have a nice day," she said, and the phone call ended with a click of the receiver.
Mike was silent, staring at his feet, obviously shocked. Harvey extended a bottle of water, which he took with trembling hands.
"Thanks."
"You good?"
Mike's deep breath turned into a bitter, breathy, borderline-hysterical laugh as he rubbed a hand through his hair.
"Yeah. My grandmother isn't dead and everything is fine. This was just-wow."
Donna peaked her head in questioningly and Harvey motioned for her to enter.
"Hey, Mike. Is everything all right?" she asked.
"Yeah. They called to tell me my grandfather is dead."
She gasped. "I'm so sorry."
"I don't have a grandfather. It was a mix-up with the computer."
"Oh, thank God. Are you doing okay? You're looking a little white," she noted, taking in his ghostly pale face and shaking hands.
"I'm fine. It scared the shit out of me, but nothing really happened."
Donna's sigh of relief was met by an almost-smile from Harvey.
"Let me know if you need anything," she said on her way out the door.
"All right," Mike breathed, a shaky smile being forced, less lip and more bared teeth, "Back to work?"
"Let's take a ten minute break," Harvey said. After watching Harvey leave to get more coffee, Mike allowed himself to slump down with his elbows on his knees, head down, rubbing a hand over his face.
This is how Harvey found him moments later when he returned with his cup now filled with hot coffee.
"You okay?" Mike jumped at Harvey's voice behind him and straightened in his seat.
"Yeah. I just... I've thought about it, of course. I know she's not going to live forever. And every time I consider it hypothetically, I can handle it. I know what I'm going to have to do when she passes, as far as funeral expenses and planning. Dealing with a will, buying a casket... But today just sort of... I'm not ready."
"You don't have to be. Not today. She's okay, remember?"
"I know, I know. I know that. But it's only a matter of time, you know? If not today, then... tomorrow? Next week?"
"There's no way of knowing that, so don't think so hard about it. You're just gonna worry yourself sick."
"When she goes... God, she's all I have. I'll be completely alone."
An uncomfortable silence followed, and Mike broke it.
"All right, sorry about that. Let's get back on the files, shall we?"
"We should." Harvey skims over the document, finding the sections that Mike highlighted. When Mike said he found a smoking gun, he wasn't lying, Harvey thought. This is a goldmine.
"This is great, Mike."
"Isn't it? When we get through here, they're not going to have a leg to stand on."
"Yes. You did a good job, kid. I'm proud of you."
Mike hesitated. "Last time you told me you were proud of me it's because you were supposed to fire me..."
"Relax, you're not being fired. You've had enough threats of drastic life changes for today. Go back to your cubicle and work on something, we leave for court at 10:00."
Mike stood to leave, but before he was all the way out the door, Harvey stopped him.
"Also, Mike. You're never completely alone. You've got Jenny. Rachel. I'm sure Donna wouldn't-"
"If you need something, I'm here for you, Mike," Donna said over the intercom. "Harvey is, too. He just won't say it," she added. The older man shrugged and rolled his eyes.
"Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it," Mike smiled before leaving for his cubicle.
"You had to let him know I'm here for him? Now he might actually come to me with problems."
Donna rolled her eyes and Harvey could almost hear it through the intercom.
I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! I don't own anything.
