"Thanks for dropping these off," Harvey closed the door behind his protege, ready to pop him another request, "listen, I need to hit the shower but I'm afraid my date will arrive a bit early." Mike noticed dinner was ready to be served in Harvey's kitchen, who knew he could cook? He plopped down the stack of files on his salon table. Harvey slipped into his bathroom, leaving the door somewhat ajar,

"Could you let her in on your way out?"

"Sure, no problem." With a bit early, he actually meant an hour, and Mike found he needn't wait too long. Before he could even sit down, there was a knock at the front door.

Peering through the peephole he saw a young woman, possibly half way her twenties, hair black as pitch, skin a smouldering brown. Her bosom was modest, posture blocked by her baggy winter attire. She seemed agitated, looked around the hallway before knocking again, after which he waited a second before he opened the door. She furrowed her brow,

"You're not Harvey, do I have the wrong apartment again?"

"No, you're at the right place. He's in the shower." He stepped aside, inviting her in. The young woman trod into the apartment, allowing Mike to observe her more properly.

"Oh thank goodness. Are you a colleague of his?" She slipped off a thick winter coat, revealing an equally thick vest, and equally thick legs. Firm though, their toned muscles accentuated by her thermal leggings.

"Yeah. He said you were a date?" The woman turned to hand him a look, seemingly short fused, probably at his tone, "No offense, you just don't really look his type." She waved it off,

"Figured he'd say that, date." She scoffed, "He's flattering himself. No, Harvey is defending me."

"Again, no offense," This time he scoffed, her brow still furrowed, "you don't look like someone who can afford his hourly, let alone a consultation."

She held back a laugh but not her grin, if only he knew, "Considering I'm just a shrink, that's very true."

"Are you his shrink?"

"Oh dear, no, that'd be highly unprofessional. I'm only here because he's offered to defend me pro bono."

"Harvey Specter, defending pro bono? Voluntarily?" He desperately tried to get his ducks in a row.

When she slowly nodded in confirmation, his disbelief itched, "Are we really talking about the same guy?"

"The dude who lives here, right?" In continuing she raised her voice, redirected her question to the back of the apartment, "The dude in the bathroom hopefully scrubbing off his horrible cologne so I don't suffer an asthma attack?"

"I'm working on it! Geez!"

"Can I ask you something else?" Mike rubbed his chin.

She nodded again.

"How did you get Harvey of all sharks to defend you? Let alone take off his precious perfume."

"Don't tell anyone any of this, it would ruin his reputation, even if it would boost his career."

Mike bit his tongue, his mind marathoning amok at the possibilities, he swallowed hard and nodded. She stepped closer to him, her voice near a whisper,

"If it weren't for me, Harvey would've been mugged, I managed to keep it to just getting assaulted."

"Harvey was assaulted?" he whispered in response.

"He didn't tell you?"

"No, of course not, it's Specter we're talking about. So… You saved him? Are you some kind of superhero? Do you have special powers?" His curiosity was laced was a hint of facetiousness. She didn't mind though,

"You could say that, yeah, I guess I'm kinda like Wonder Woman."

"Why, you have a whip?"

"And a Taser, which is what I used on the mugger that night."

"Oh, so it's as easy as that?" It tickled her funny-bone that he didn't seem to have caught her admittance,

"Well, not really, guy was about a full head taller than Harvey and as wide as a fridge. Took it like a champ, so I upped the voltage to try and get him down to his knees."

"Oh?"

"It didn't work, so when he turned to charge at me I panicked and kicked him in the sternum."

"Oh."

"Hard." Reluctantly she admitted.

"Oh… So Harvey's defending you for excessive self defense, that explains why he's not handling this case at the office. A pro bono case would definitely make him Litt's laughing stock, especially if he got injured, let alone saved by a woman. No offense."

"None taken, Harvey told me all about Litt. Not exactly a charmer."

"Are you sure you're not his shrink?" he managed a laugh from her, "But seriously? Not a word from me, I promise. Harvey's done enough for me to warrant that loyalty. Besides, I hate Litt even more."

"Ah, you're Mikey. Harvey may have spoken about you, once or twice."

"Uhm, Mike, please, and only good I hope."

"You've yet to meet my legal expectations, but his anecdotes were more than good." She fidgeted with her fingers, brushed a lock of hair away from her face. Looking over at the bathroom had her seem as though she couldn't wait for Harvey to chase him out of here.

"You seem a bit nervous, first time in court?"

"This is going to be my first time as a defendant, we've a lot to discuss so he suggested we talk over dinner."

"Well, you can relax now, you're in great hands."

"Thank you Mike, I might just."

The water had turned off a few moments ago, but no Harvey in sight yet,

"I said let her in on your way out, Ross! Not exchange life stories!"

"I should get going, it was nice to meet you, miss?"

"Trixie, my parents hated me."

"Right." He flashed her a timid smile.

"Mike, are you still here?!" His eyes widened and he took for the front door, the handle in his hand,

"See you Monday, Harvey!"

"Yeah, sure, now fuck off!"

He waved at her as he stepped out the door, with her on his tail, he whispered, "Good luck with your case."

"Thanks." The young woman watched him reach the elevator before closing the door behind him.

She had locked it and drawn the curtains, opened a red wine to let it breathe, before pouring him one,

"So where do you wanna do this?"

"Kitchen'll do, there's a merlot on the cooking island."

"I saw…" she had chosen to cradle a tumbler with scotch instead, as she sat on said island, cross-legged. On her way to the kitchen, the young woman had undone herself of the baggy layer of casual New York winter proof clothing, revealing an attire somewhat less conventional.

He calmed his heart, neigh beating out of his chest in disbelief that he was finally doing this, before stepping out of the bathroom into the living room, attached to his open kitchen. He looked at her eyes shortly, "How does it look?"

A shit eating grin adorned her lips, stretching from ear to ear.

"You look magnificent," she admitted, his attire fitting, matching, and even less conventional or covering than hers. She beckoned the shark near as she reached into her bag besides her, taking out a black cloth. When he approached her she stretched out her leg towards him, halting him in the middle of the apartment, an inch between him and her foot. An itch in his hands to hold it. The young woman tossed him the black cloth and without question he placed it over his eyes.

"Tonight's safety word is zucchini, got it?"

"Zucchini, yes ma'am."

She cracked her whip next to his feet, he could feel it slice the air past his leg, the thunk on the kitchen floor as to where it landed.

"Now, why are you still standing?"

He dropped to his knees before her, and despite his blindfold dared not to look up at her, instead his head hung low. The creaking of their leather and latex ensembles set the hairs on his neck on end, he could feel his goosebumps and imagined they had her smile even more. He felt her fingers slither through his hair before grabbing a handful, and his spirit soared.