Ricochet

by polymorphine

Set after Ties, Episode 5.12

Rachel wakes up by her cell phone vibrating and ringing on the nightstand, her mind dazed and confused, first not sure what to make out of this noise or figure out where it comes from, just disturbing her drunken sleep. She moans into the pillow, attempting to cover her ears with it, before she grasps what this cacophony implies, her head rapidly rising up, her shaky hand fumbling around the nightstand, before she finally gets a hold of the phone.

The number is unidentified, but it can be only one person calling.

"Mike?" she answers the phone, her voice raucous and unstable, her heart skipping several beats before increasing its rate to an almost inhuman frequency, as she hears his voice softly whispering her name.

"Rachel."

"Oh my god, it's really you!"

She can't hold back the tears as relief is flushing through her from head to toe, his gentle tone soothing her wrecked nerves, a diminutive smile parting her lips, covered by her fingers, simply glad to have him on the other end of the line, at last.

"Mike, are you ok? What happened? I was so worried, nobody knows what's going on exactly, we all just sit and wait for you to ca..."

"Rachel, listen to me." Mike interrupts her flood of words, startling her with his harsh and resolute intonation.

"I need you to listen to me very carefully, Rachel, because I will only say it once. The engagement is off, this is definite, but trust me, it's for the best."

"What?" Rachel can barely breathe, his words slowly dripping into her conscience word by word, drop by drop, like a leaky faucet, the relief she felt moments ago yielding into consternation.

"I'm sorry it has to end this way, but there is no going around that."

He clears his throat, soaked in sorrow.

"Please tell Harvey that I'm really sorry, but he needs to stay away from all this, and out of it. I don't want to drag anyone down with me, not you, not Harvey, I really need you to understand this. I'm going to represent myself in the trial, and I'm going to plead guilty, and then I will go to jail for at least some years, and I don't want to ruin your life along with mine, so please Rachel, just forget about me, I beg you. I am so sorry, but I will do my best to keep everyone else out of harm's way. This is the last you are going to hear from me and please don't try to contact me or help me or anything, just a clear cut. I am so sorry Rachel. I'm so sorry."

"Mike, no!" Rachel screams into the already hung up phone, only the beep of the disconnected line answering her plea.

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Mike closes his fist, wrinkling the paper he has worked on all of last night. To minimize the risk of getting soft and redeem his decision, he put all he had to say in writing, basicly reading it to Rachel, his tongue almost couldn't wrap itself around those merciless words he managed to pronounce eventually.

Hearing her say his name practically made him back out for a split second, but he sticked to the notes.

In his one man cell again, sitting down on the hard small bed where sleep was not even a possibility, and now that he doesn't have to act resolutely and firm, hard but fair, accepting his fate without resistance, playing the intended role for her, he puts his face in his palms, tears breaking their way through his fingers. His sobs echo from the walls in the tiny cell, as he realizes he just lost the love of his life, forever.

That he was all alone for real, now truly an orphan.

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Donna's alarmed gaze meets Harvey's, as they both listen to the hysterical Rachel, each word a challenge for her, and for them.

"...and then..." the sentence swallowed half way down by Rachel's struggle to hold back another flush of tears, "... he said he doesn't want any contact at all."

She buries her face in her hands, slowly sinking down on the wooden floor, not able to even imagine his words could be real or that he could actually mean them, destroying the last glimpse of energy that kept her on her feet.

Donna wrestles out of the sheets and across the bed to rush to Rachel's side, placing herself on the floor next to Rachel,wrapping her arms around the bitterly weeping, shaking body of her friend, stroking her hair, murmuring comforting words, more sounds even, as words to ease her agony do not exist.

Harvey turns away from the pain wrenched scenery, his hand covering his mouth, his nostrils blowing up as he tries to press in as much air as he possibly can into his lungs, averting the slight hints of a panic attack bubbling under the surface.

So he was right all along, he thinks, this fucking kid decided to go THAT route, he just knew it. Fucking knew it. What else, right? It's Mike, so clever yet so naive, not to say goddamn stupid. In his mind, he was doing something noble, in the world Harvey was living in, he was doing something so extremely idiotic, Harvey wondered how on earth he could have ever hired this Don Quixote, this delirious genius. Noble my ass.

Harvey takes another deep breath before mumbling "I have to call Louis.", approaching the living room where he left his phone on the couch table, not without darting a concerned look in Donna's direction.

Speed dialing Louis, he allows his mind to wander back to the moment before Rachel stormed in, the turn of events destroying this delicate juncture, but his time to reflect ends abruptly when Louis picks up after the first ring, his loud and unsteady panting tingling in Harvey's ear.

"Harvey! Did Mike call?"

"Yes, Louis, he called Rachel just some minutes ago, and it's worse than we anticipated."

"How can it be even worse? Don't tell me... Mmhh no, no no no, I don't want to hear it, don't say it, for the love of god is he really going to represent himself? No, don't answer that!"

"Louis."

Harvey breathes out heavily in annoyance, waiting for the panicking Louis to get his shit together, the

"Oh no, oh my god! No no no!" following the pause showing that this might not happen at all, so Harvey decides to just continue.

"Yes Louis, Mike is going to represent himself, and he plans on pleading guilty of charge and going to jail, and I can assure you he really means it as he also broke up with Rachel."

"He broke up with Rachel? Nooo, no no no, this can't be! Jail? Mike going to jail?"

Louis starts to giggle hysterically, expressing what Harvey was secretly thinking himself.

The kid won't survive one single day behind bars, and that Mike convinced himself otherwise was indeed a good occasion to break out in maniacal laughter. Except it wasn't funny at all.

"Louis, now shut the fuck up for god's sake and listen, because apparently we have less time than we thought and the situation is obviously even much worse than we expected, so I need you to focus here, ok?"

"Yes Harvey, I'm sorry, you're right." Louis clears his throat, Harvey is hearing clothes rustling in the background, as if Louis would straighten his posture, preparing for the seriousness of the task ahead.

"Ok, first, tell me what you got and god may have mercy on you if you don't have shit, but I surely won't."

"Okay, well, just for you to know, I was up all night, I just came home like an hour ago to take a quick shower and change, and by my calculation I'm pretty much through half of the files and..."

"You got nothing."

Harvey massages his forehead to fight the upcoming headache caused by the lack of options, only partly due to the aftermath of his scotch marathon last night.

"Yes, okay, I didn't find anything so far, but there are still half of the files to go through and maybe..."

"It's pointless, Louis, if you haven't found anything yet, there is nothing to find. We have to come up with a new strategy here, and I think I got a better one."

"I'm all ears, Harvey."

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Donna needed some time to convince Rachel to lay down on the bed, and some force to get her off the ground as her body is still convulsed by the weeping, incapable of making a move on her own.

Crawled up between the sheets, her tears absorbed by the expensive egyptian cotton, Rachel feels the physical and emotional exhaustion flooding her, welcoming the faintness transiting into a deep slumber, blending out the hard edges of the cruel reality.

Donna detects Rachel's regular breathing, the tension disappearing from her face, her cramped grip around Donna's arm unwinding, seemingly finding some ease in morpheus' embrace.

She carefully gets up from the bed without waking Rachel up, headed to the bathroom.

God, this nightmare is just not ending, she thinks to herself, observing her deranged appearance in the mirror. She should take a shower, she should ask Harvey to call Ray so he can drive her home to get some clothes to change, and she definitely should put some concealer on the dark circles under her eyes while she's at it.

But before all that, she should get a coffee.

She enters the living room, on her way to the kitchen counter, as Harvey is just about to end his phone call, hearing him say "Louis, I gotta go, I'll call you later."

"I suppose Louis wasn't happy about the turn of events?"

"No, he surely was not, and neither am I. Mike is just voluntarily burying himself deeper and deeper in this pile of shit, and he binds our hands so we can't get him out of this."

Harvey shakes his head, shrugging as to point out the absurdity behind this reckless move.

"But honestly, I refuse to let him do this to himself. Whether he likes it or not, he will need my help with this, because I can't let him go to jail, and I won't."

"God, this is such a mess!" Donna exclaims in frustration, taking a seat on one of the barstools by the counter.

"Ah, I see you finally found out about the purpose of these, as I see you're not misusing the counter again."

Harvey smirks, remembering her failed attempt to put herself on top of the counter last night, resulting in having to place her there himself. Which brought this whole entanglement in motion.

"Ha ha, very funny, Specter. Would you just make me a cup of coffee here? I have things that need to be taken care of as long as Rachel is asleep again, and I don't think I have much time. So hush! I need my caffeine infusion. Two sugars please as I know you don't have skim milk in your fridge. Thank you."

"I wasn't aware that I'm working at Starbucks now, but well, as I need a new job, I might as well make cappuccino for a living, starting with making a coffee for you. Your order coming right up, ma'am!"

Harvey lets a wide grin flash over his face as he passes by her to get behind the counter, filling the French press with the finely ground black powder, playing the barista.

After placing the steaming, aromatic coffee in front of Donna, he pours himself a cup as well.

"You forgot the sugar, sugar, so I guess Starbucks would fire your ass within one day."

Donna smirks, reaching for the sugar herself, letting the tiny white crystals slowly trickling into the coffee, making the strong brew less bitter.

"I'm also gonna need you to call Ray to drive me to my apartment so I can pack up some things. The dress I had was soaked in white wine, and the Harvard t-shirt is barely covering anything, so I'm running out of options."

His eyes wander up and down her perfectly modelled naked legs, from the toes up to her thighs, the t-shirt really covering almost nothing of them, imposing him to long for a more extended tour of those shapes, preferably not only with his eyes.

Donna, alarmed and confounded by his rambling observation, quickly takes one sip from the coffee cup, burning her tongue with the still hot beverage.

"Ouch, this is still too hot! I'm taking a shower in the meanwhile, until your poor barista performance is drinkable."

She hops down from the barstool, crosses the living room, sneaks through his bedroom, Rachel still being asleep in his bed, and after she locks the bathroom door, she sighs heavily, rolling her eyes.

Oh holy crap, what is she doing? If Rachel wouldn't have interrupted, and after she got her senses back together she was glad that Rachel did, they would have rolled through the sheets by now, making a huge mistake.

That would have been a disaster, with uncontrollable outcome. But as much as it concerns her, so little it seemed to concern Harvey, him being eager to continue where they stopped, the look on his face while regarding her legs clearly revealing his agenda.

This would be a mistake, or wouldn't it? She already gave in before, well, voluntarily participated to be honest, throwing her doubts over board, basically begging for his touch. But now, sobered up by the whole drama with Mike and Rachel, the moment where she lost her head passed by, leaving behind a twisted feeling in her guts.

As the hot water runs down her neck, relaxing the cramped muscles in her shoulders, she has to admit to herself that maybe losing her better judgement for a second wasn't the worst of all decisions.

Going from being certain of her feelings to again dissect every possible aspect of this fling, might not be the best choice of handling this matter.

Besides, right now was not the right time to deepen this, whatever the hell this was, or whatever this could be one day. But not now. Not with Mike in prison, not with Rachel mimicking the walking dead, and not without resolving the issue with Mitch, who she again totally forgot about.

And yes, this might all be shabby excuses, blurring the true reason of her backing out, simply being afraid that it might end up in something real and serious this time before it goes to shit, her not being ready for that option.

She steps out of the shower, cocooning herself in one of Harvey's fluffy towels, before heading to the dress room to improvise an outfit suitable to wear on the street.

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Harvey, still only wearing his bathrobe, takes small sips from his coffee, facing the window and the fact that Donna apparently needed some time to wrap her mind around the idea of them being together, not being on the same page in their book as he is, disappointment and frustration making him more bitter than his coffee.

He would indeed be a shitty barista, and he definitely exaggerated on the recommended coffee dose, the result tasting like tar.

He also might have interpreted the situation wrong before, just hallucinating her luring tone, her willing posture, her slightly open lips awaiting his. Might. But most likely did not.

Maybe it was because of this Mitch character, maybe she cared more about him than Harvey would like, which would be not at all, but eventually this might not be the case.

Whatever the reason, the result was the same, she chickened out the second she could and showed no interest to continue where they have been forced to stop, for him just like hitting pause on the remote control, for her shutting the whole damn thing off.

But he would not let her get away with it, not this time, not in the long haul.

Probably all she needs to commit to this, to him, is a sincere talk. He really sucked in these things, but hell, that's the only thing he hasn't tried yet. Ever. So maybe now's the time.

He turns around as he hears her behind him, going straight for the coffee she left cooling down on the kitchen counter.

"I hope you don't mind." she says between two quick sips, her other hand gesturing towards her attire, being one of his white shirts, a purple 250$ Tom Ford tie bound around her waist, accentuating her curves, and an old jeans, that she had to roll up on the ankles as it was too long for her.

"Not at all, what's mine is yours."

He sees her eyes widen, flashing with discomfort, so he softens his words by a naughty smirk, not to scare her away completely. This delicate issue with her has to be handled very meticulously, he reminds himself.

"But if you ruin the tie, you will buy me a new one for Christmas." Harvey shrugs, a grin playing around his lips. "Just saying."

Donna rolls her eyes, taking a sip again, but obviously more at ease about the whole situation between them.

"By the way, Ray is waiting downstairs for you, and you could also grab some breakfast while you're at it. I have some shit to take care of, but I wouldn't mind a bagel or two."

Donna sighs, finishes the remains of her coffee, leaving the empty cup on the counter, grabs her handbag and puts her high heels on, headed to the elevator.

"You forgot something."

Harvey goes after her, walking by the small glassed table near the chaise longue, reaching for his wallet.

Donna stops and turns around, obviously curious about what is going to follow, her eyebrows risen in anticipation.

Harvey closes the distance between them to a hand's length, his eyes fixating hers, the corners of his mouth slowly rising up, transforming into a leering grin, as he is slowly slipping a 100$ bill into the chest pocket of his shirt that she is wearing, the corners of the folded bill slightly scraping over the light fabric, passing the quite delicate area.

Amused by her blushing up from the bold gesture, he leans in towards her, aligning his lips with her ear, his breath tickling her neck, his voice bantering.

"This should cover some bagels and a chocolate filled croissant for you."

Donna sharply breathes in, being highly indignant about his behaviour, but to some extend also about herself, as her body reacted against her will, her pink cheeks not caused by her outrage over this demeanour, but by something that makes her blush even more.

She wants to protest, but knowing that her voice would give her away the second she would open her mouth, she just turns back around, vigorously marching off to the elevator, hoping she could disguise her unsettling.

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"Yes, I need the soonest possible flight to Boston... "

"Yes today... "

"Business class... "

"What do you mean just one seat in economy available? Money is not a concern... "

"No, it has to be today! Am I not making myself clear enough for you?... "

"Yes, sorry ma'am, I'll take the seat, thank you."

Harvey disconnects the phone call, snorting with rage, as Rachel walks in, her eyes swollen and red, she barely can hold herself up on her feet, unable to fix her gaze on Harvey.

"Rachel."

She places herself on the couch, already the small distance between bedroom and living room visibly exhausted her.

"Why is he doing this? How can he even do this?"

Her voice hoarsely, the vacant expression on her face and the vacuity in her eyes showing her complete bewilderment in regard of this situation.

"He's doing this because he thinks he is doing the right thing."

Harvey shrugs, having no better answer for her.

"You can't let him do this, there must be something you can do! Please! I can't lose him!"

Her eyes swimming in tears, finally fixating his, the desperation behind her gaze loud and clear.

"And I won't let him, trust me on this one. But I need you to do something for me. I need you to make a list of all people who knew about this, and I need you to make it before I'm back from Boston, which is gonna be late afternoon today or tomorrow morning. I'm sure we won't need it, but maybe I'm wrong, and it's really important, Rachel, that anybody who ever even had a slight suspicion about him being a fraud is on that list, and I believe you might know some names that I don't. I understand you are in a crisis, but so is he, and we have to get him the fuck out of it. So please, focus and do the list, ok? It's extremely important that it's accurate."

After making sure she understood the task, confirmed by a nod, Harvey goes over to the kitchen counter, repeating the coffee making procedure, being a bit more careful with the dosage now.

"I'll make you a coffee, Donna should be back with some breakfast soon. Do you need sugar?"

"Thank you, Harvey. I know you will do everything to get him out of this. I'm sorry that I'm such a mess."

"Thank me when he's back home, watching Game of Thrones and eating pretzels."

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Donna almost stumbles over the flowers Mitch left by her apartment door, pink lilies and white roses, a really beautiful and quite huge bouquet, unfortunately already raddled by the waterless night.

Pierced by the sharp sting of a bad conscience due to her nasty tone on the phone followed by almost cheating on him, leads her to pick up the withered flowers before opening her apartment door, putting them in a white porcelain vase filled with water first thing, just in case they might recover from the lean period.

That checked off, she goes to the bedroom, fetching a small Louis Vuitton suitcase from under the bed, starting to pack for a hopefully not too long absence from her wardrobe.

After covering herself with some comfortable but also some more sophisticated clothing, she moves to the bathroom, attending her make-up and lotion needs, as she wouldn't look like Donna if she wouldn't be addicted to those beauty's little helpers.

The suitcase practically bursting at the seams now, she drags it to the door, taking a view around, just in case she forgot anything. Maybe another pair of shoes? No, three were enough. And if not, she just has to call Ray. Dilemma solved. At least that one.

Her glance sticks to the bouquet, the heads of the flowers down, looking sad. She should really call him.

He was after all a very nice guy, a real gentleman, funny and sweet. Well, and a bit boring and shallow.

Not that charismatic or freakishly charming, and he couldn't raise her heartbeat just by her smelling his cologne. Or by his breath tingling the small hairs in her neck. Or by his goddamn smirk, reserved especially for her. Or by...

OK you gotta stop this, or you will make a fool out of yourself, Donna's inner alarm bells ringing. A fool is the last thing she wants to be.

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On the way back to the Mike-in-prison emergency headquarters, being Harvey's loft, she gets a couple of bagels with cream cheese for Harvey, along with some croissants and sandwiches, right now clearly not being a good time to count calories.

Her hands occupied by the breakfast and her suitcase, she waits for the glassed elevator doors to slide open, to take her up to the 16th floor.

Back at Harvey's, she is getting an uneasy feeling rising up from her stomach, bringing to mind their last interaction.

Anyway, she paid for the breakfast herself and was planning to stick that 100$ bill he so frivolously gave her up somewhere where it won't ever see a beam of sunlight.

As she enters the loft, she sees him standing in the kitchen, his back turned to her, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

"Magdalena, please, listen to me, don't come today or tomorrow, I have guests over and this wouldn't look good. I'll call you when it will be a good time... I know you have a tight schedule, and I know this makes things more difficult, but as I was saying, you can't come over today. I'm sorry, and yes I'll call you as soon as possible. Bye."

So he has someone new. God, she has been absent from his daily life for too long, losing her Donna omniscience, and she really hasn't seen it coming.

She thought after Esther, he would grow a conscience. And after the way he looked at her this morning, he might be even interested in something serious.

But apparently she made a fool of herself with him, again, the first time being when he told her he didn't want to lose her after the night they spend together, only offering her a job, when she was undoubtedly certain he would propose a romantic relationship after this incredible night.

She even already considered to break it off with Mitch, and for what? For this spineless pig.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, you're an idiot, Donna.

Ending the conversation with his polish cleaning lady, Harvey turns around to see an absolutely abashed Donna, a large suitcase in one hand, and a big bag with pastries in the other.

A smile parting his lips, he directs his steps towards her, snatching the pastry bag out of her hand to sneak a peek.

"I see you spent the money wisely."

His appetite risen by the looks and the mouth watering smell emerging from the food, he grabs a croissant, filled with vanilla and cinnamon, biting off a big chunk from the crispy outside and soft and sweet inside baked good, moaning from the deliciousness exploding on his taste buds.

"Mmmmh, this shit is fucking fantastic! Is it from this place on 16th?"

As Donna ignores his attempts to build up a conversation, he lifts his head, meeting her infuriated glance.

"I suppose this lucid dream of vanilla and cinnamon was supposed to be for you. Sorry about that."

"Nevermind my soul food needs. Where is Rachel? Still asleep? And don't eat the macadamia croissant, that's reserved for her!" as Harvey was pulling the one out of the bag, navigating it towards his mouth,immediately putting it back after the warning.

"She's taking a shower. We talked about the list with people who knew about Mike, and you need to make sure she takes care of this before you both hit my liquor department."

Donna breathes out loudly, anger infusing her features.

"I'm not saying you can't hit the liquor, I'm just saying the list needs to be done right."

"I understand it, Harvey! I'm not an idiot!" feeling like one nevertheless, jealousy and disappointment dominating her.

"I'm leaving in about half an hour, so if you need anything, tell me now so I can take care of it as long as I'm here."

"What do you mean while you're still here? Where are you supposed to go?" her voice shrill, her mind screams one suggestion, Magdalena.

"I'm going to Boston, my flight is in two hours."

Oh.

"You're paying a visit to our favourite Harvard Professor."

"Yeah, I'm going to Gerard. If he is behind this, I'm going to fix this Mike situation really quick. So let's hope he's the one who sang the fraud song, otherwise it will get more difficult to make this one vanish into thin air."

"You still only have your bathrobe on, I hope you plan to change before storming into Gerard's office?"

His annoyed glance meets hers, his eyebrows going up.

"I might be flying economy, but I'm not gonna go that far."

"Economy? Oh my god, you are really lost without me. Or Gretchen."

Harvey shakes his head, picking out a bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon.

"Whatever. I got a flight, and I flew economy before too. No big deal."

"Yeah, let's see about that."

Overlooking Donna's naughty smirk, he turns towards the kitchen, placing the now half emptied bag on the counter, taking a savory bite from the bagel.

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Equipped with a dark blue suit, a white shirt and an anthracite coloured tie, Harvey is ready to leave for the airport, and to stick it to Gerard.

Passing Donna, residing on the couch, her "Have a nice trip!" muffled by the strawberry croissant she is currently chewing, her eyes fixated on yesterday's New York Times, as another clou comes to his mind, making him turn around, mumbling "I forgot something."

He steps behind her, his heartbeat increased by the nervousness he is experiencing, but the impulse is stronger than his actual doubts if this is a good idea or if it would scare her off. She can't always get her way.

In one fluid and sleek move he leans in towards her, striking the hair back from her shoulder and out of his way, and before she even has time to react to it, Harvey instantaneously presses his lips on her now revealed neck, the pale and soft skin feeling like silk under his kiss.

Although it only lasted a millisecond, he feels her stiffen, immediately removing himself from the dangerous zone, approaching the elevator as if nothing has happened, although her skin texture is still lingering on his lips, her scent still suffusing him.

Whatever this lavender shit was that she is always using, he would find out and buy her a truckload of it. It is still the best damn thing that ever came under his nose.

The elevator door opening, he hears Donna's sour toned voice behind him.

"Shouldn't you reserve this type of thing for Magdalena or whatever her name is?"

Stepping inside the glassed box, he turns around to her, a bride smirk contorting his face, her piercing acidic stare not able to undermine the exhilaration he is feeling about her jealousy.

"What, my cleaning lady? I doubt she would like that, and quite frankly, although she still looks hot with her 62 years, I would assume her husband would strangle me if I ever dared to try to make a move on her. Even after 34 years of marriage, he seems to be the jealous kind."

Observing how Donna's eyes widen with surprise and her cheeks pinken up, he pushes the button, the doors beginning to close.

"Bye, Donna."

He even has the audacity to wink, excessively enjoying how his idea played out.

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Donna almost choked on the croissant she was chewing as she felt his hand in her hair, moving it aside, and the sudden sensation of the warm and smooth lips on her neck totally perplexed her, her heart performing somersaults, her skin tingling spreading out like a spiderweb all over her body, originating from the tiny spot where his lips left a burning mark on her.

Even after a while, she still can't believe he did this, her fingers unwittingly wandering to her neck, fondling around this particular point.

"Donna, is your neck hurting or something? Do you need a massage?"

Rachel pulls Donna out of her enraptured thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment, consisting of her and Rachel sitting at the table, trying to complete the list Harvey asked for, the rests of the tuna and goat cheese sandwiches they had for lunch pushed aside, the bottle of Chardonnay only half empty.

"What? No no, it's just itching a little, I think I'm allergic to this new lotion or something. Organic, pfff."

Donna plays it off, now demonstratively scratching her neck, her fingernails leaving red marks on her skin, masking her blush.

"Well, ok, so...let's go through it one more time. We have Trevor, we have Jenny, we have Claire, we have..."

"Wait, who is Claire again? Oh yes, the lawyer slash ex girlfriend. Sorry, continue."

Rachel rolls her eyes, taking a sip from the wine.

She feels focused, more herself.

Having a task pulled her out of the zombie like state, also finally able to do something that could help Mike out of this mess, not feeling so absolutely helpless any more.

Like in these black and white Western movies where the lady is tied to the rails, the train closing in, and all she could hope for is the dashing cowboy hero coming along to save her ass.

But now, she had a knife, and could probably cut the rope and free herself on her own, making her feel in control and regaining some power over her fate instead of just watching it hit her with her hands tied together.

"Ok, again, so Trevor, Jenny, Claire, Professor Gerard, Lola the hacker, Louis, Jessica, Harvey, you, me, and that's it. Maybe Tess, his highschool girlfriend, but I don't know."

"Put her on the list, along with Scottie."

"Harvey told Scottie? You can't be serious!"

Rachel's eyes widen with surprise, it really was not his secret to reveal to his back then girlfriend. But what's done is done, adding Scottie's name, the pen scratching over the white, almost blank paper.

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"Excuse me."

Harvey tries to pass through to his seat, the plane booked out and crammed full with people, bustling about in order to find a place for their luggage in the shelfs over their heads, unsuccessfully trying to stuff the fifth bag into the small department.

Arriving at the seat number written on his boarding pass, Harvey heavily sighs, his seat being the middle one. He presses himself in between the two corpulent men residing left and right, his suit already rumpled by the lack of space, his knees colliding with the front seat, his face hardened by the uncomfortable position he has to endure.

When the turbines are starting to rotate, his neighbour with the window seat puts on his headphones, apparently turning the volume up to maximum to avoid being harassed by the sound level of the plane engines, permitting Harvey to listen to every word sung by Jessica Simpson.

Ok, this is not starting well, he thinks to himself, looking out for the stewardess to bring him some really needed scotch.

As soon as they are up in the air, his other neighbour reaches down into a bag he held between his legs, revealing a big and long sandwich wrapped in silver foil, onions and mustard and mayonnaise having been extensively used in the preparation of that smelly monster, obviously homemade, the rancid oniony smell forcing Harvey's eyes to well up.

Just due to his quick reaction that was trained over the years by his boxing experience, he can remove his arm from the drop of mayo navigated towards his sleeve, attempting to ruin his Tom Ford suit beyond repair.

He doubted that even Mr. Chen, his cleaning guy, would have been able to save the silk/wool mixed material from the oily substance.

This trip was hell, the soundtrack accompanying this whole nightmare provided by seemingly Jessica Simpson's biggest fan, the double meaning intended.

He would even prefer to take a mud bath with Louis right now, instead of being squeezed in between this two highly overweight, not to say obese gentlemen, one attacking him with mayonnaise, the other with Jessica's howling.

Finally he hears the stewardess and the beverage car approaching, choosing a scotch for 10$ instead of coffee, drowning the little amount in one sip, as the sandwich dude makes a comment, his onion breath almost knocking Harvey out.

"Hey, you shouldn't be drinking, man, it's not even afternoon. There are kids on this flight man!"

He points to the 10 months old baby and his mother, seated two rows ahead across the hallway, the baby chewing on the ear of his Teddy Bear, obviously totally aware of the bad role model Harvey is presenting by his pre-lunch alcohol consume.

"Finish your ghastly sandwich and stay out of my business, or the stewardess will have to come back and bring you some ice cubes and napkins." Harvey wanted to say, but checking the time, still half an hour ahead till landing, and an Air Marshall sitting somewhere in the crowd, he decides to let it go, just mumbling "Sorry." and shrugging as a response, hoping he could cover up the anger in his voice.

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, which definitely was a mistake as the air is still polluted from the abomination of a sandwich which made relaxing impossible, crowned by another criminal offense against his auditory canal performed by the one and only, Jessica Simpson.

Ok, Specter, just 25 minutes more, you can do that! , he tries to motivate himself.

And never economy again.

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"Harvey, you got me a cat? Oh my god, it's a Maine Coon! Who are you little fella? Who is cute? Yes you are cute my gorgeous manifestation of feline perfection!"

Louis carefully fondles the kitten behind it's ears, the murmuring vibration from the joy the cat is feeling under his touch puts a huge smile on his face.

"He likes me!" Louis shares his smile with Harvey, who is observing the heartwarming scenery, his hands in his pockets, an amused smirk adorns his face.

"His name is Mike."

"What a weird and plain name for this magnificent creature! Just look at him, he should be called Hector or Balthasar, yes Balthasar, that's perfect and majestic! That should meet the necessary name requirements of this glorious beauty!"

"Well, his name is Mike, either way. I hope you like him."

"Oh my god Harvey, are you serious? I love him! Just look at his cute little pink nose! And the small paws! And his green eyes! So little but yet such intelligence and wit speaking out of them!"

Louis presses the tiny fur ball against his face, giving it a kiss on the wet nose.

"Thank you so much, Harvey! This means so much to me!"

"You deserve it, Louis! You're my best friend and I know how hard it has been for you after Bruno passed away, and then you lost Mikado, and I just wanted to see you smile again."

"Where's Mike? I want to show him his name companion."

"What are you talking about? That is Mike! There is no other Mike."

"What do you mean there is no other Mike? Of course there is another Mike! Mike Ross!"

"Not that I know of."

Jessica enters Louis Litt's office, just to find him sleeping on the couch, his arms and legs spread out like a seastar, face half buried into a pillow, slight hints of drool spotting the fabric, the roar coming from his mouth indicating that he should consider a rhinoplasty to reduce the snoring.

"Louis."

Confusion rushes through Louis, as Jessica wasn't in the room with Harvey and him, and Balthasar, ok, Mike.

"Louis!"

The harsh and impatient tone finally jolts him awake, his eyes slowly open, just to meet Jessica's enraged gaze.

He rapidly rises up, straightening his suit and putting his tie back into place, a nervous smile flashing over his features, where the pillow also left visible marks on his right cheek.

"Jessica! What a lovely surprise! I- I was just taking the 15 minutes power nap that my doctor recommended, you know, because of the heart attack I had recently? Yes, Dr. Weinstein was very concerned about my stress levels, so he insisted that I should take a nap once a day, and of course I remove the time from my lunch hour, so the work is not influenced by it negatively, but positively as I'm more energetic and focused and..."

"Louis, please. I don't need to hear about your napping time, I just came by to give you an important case. I would handle it myself, but I have to take care of Harvey's cases too, and it's a really major client. I need you to put in all you have and give it priority as it is an urgent matter. I trust you with this, so use that power your naps are giving you and close this case. I'm absolutely sure you will do great. Don't prove me wrong."

Jessica bestows him with a patronizing smile, handing over the case files to him, before heading to the door.

"Oh, and Louis, just one more thing."

She looks back over her shoulder, her eyebrow raised, her pace slowing down, stopping by the door. The anger in her voice mantled by a cool and professional tone, she continues.

"I noticed Donna and Rachel are not in today, and I understand that this situation is tough especially for Rachel, but we need every hand available to manage this case, and if both of them want to keep working here in the future, they should actually start working again soon.

Rachel can take the rest of the week, but I wanna see Donna in by tomorrow morning.

You will need a secretary for this one, and I can't let this case be compromised by Mike Ross' arrest.

And mark my words, Louis, if I ever as so much see you do something besides this case, especially something regarding Mike, and despite that you may be a named partner now, I won't hesitate for one second to make you regret this. I hope I can count on you to be my partner and be on my side.

Oh and let me know how the case is going. I expect some first results by tomorrow morning, let's say 10 o'clock, my office?"

Back at her office, not paying any attention to the piles of case files covering her desk, placing herself in her chair, turning away from the door to face her beloved view displayed in front of her, regarding the skyscrapers representing the power of this city, except now she doesn't perceive herself as powerful at all.

The eyes narrowed, lips pressed together, her face revealing the bitterness she feels about this whole situation, and the role she has to play in it, being the merciless villain, antagonizing her fellow campaigners, in order to protect the firm from the ricochet of Harvey's stupid decision years ago for as long as possible.

Keeping in mind that every moment in this office could be her last, and she won't go down without a fight, she turns back around to her desk, opening the first file on the stack saying 'The state of Kentucky against J. Miller, charged of conspiracy to commit fraud. 7/21/1996.'

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"Donna, isn't this your phone?"

Rachel points to Donna's handbag, the source of the ring, placed on the kitchen counter behind them.

Donna quickly gets up from the couch where they have been watching a movie from Harvey's vast DVD collection, wrapped up in a cosy blanket and armed with some Ben & Jerry's ice cream and chocolate cookies.

Half her arm buried in the bag, Donna fishes out her phone, still ringing, the caller i.d. showing that it's Louis' office.

With a suppressed sigh she answers the call, her voice impatient as he is interrupting a very significant scene of Ronin.

"Louis, what is it? Can't you find your dictaphone or is the fax machine not working again? I told you a million times, just give it a little push with the hip, I know you should manage that if it's true what you told me about being an amazing dancer!"

"No, Donna, I have my dictaphone right here and yes I am an amazing dancer, light footed and elegant, if my mother would have let me take the ballet classes I asked her for I would be the new Baryshnikov! And yes, the fax machine isn't working but that's not what I'm calling for!"

"Ok Louis, please don't tell me you stapled your tie to another important contract, but just so you know,I put a staple puller in your left drawer, so I'm positive you can help yourself this time."

"It was just one time and I was distracted by a phone call you put through even though I asked you to postpone it!"

"It was your sister, Louis!"

"Exactly! Why do you think I instructed you to postpone it?"

"Ok, Louis, if your tie is still not stapled to any documents and your dictaphone is at its rightful place, why are you calling?"

"Jessica came by my office some minutes ago, and handed me an important case, and she said you need to get back to work by tomorrow!"

"Louis, we talked about this. What about Rachel?"

"Oh, Jessica said she can have the rest of the week off, but anyway, she expects to see you tomorrow at the office, and until then I have to manage it all by myself, and oh my god Donna, you won't believe what case she dropped off on me, I'm just so excited! It may be THE case of all automobile industry cases of the past 20 years! I have to Litt the shit out of this case and Jessica is right, this is the Moby Dick of all cases, and as I'm Captain Ahab, you need to be my Ismael and we have to rip this white whale to shreds!"

"Louis, you are aware Captain Ahab gets killed by Moby Dick at the end, right?"

"Whatever, I never finished this book when I was in school, it was boring as hell. But anyway, this case is huge and I need my secretary! And Jessica said so too, so I expect to see you behind your desk tomorrow morning! Give Rachel my best! I have a conference call in some minutes, so I better prepare!"

"Louis, I know exactly it's your daily call to Dr. Weinstein's office to talk about your bowel movement after your prunie, and this will have to wait. I can't leave Rachel all by herself! I told you that before and I hate to repeat myself but I see that it is necessary in your realm! So again, and use your dictaphone to record my words so you can play them over and over to yourself in case you forget again, I am not coming to work as long as Rachel needs me. Got it? I hope that will do. Bye Louis!"

Donna hangs up on him, infuriatingly shaking her head, mumbling "God, what a schmuck!", headed back to the couch and the already melting chunky monkey.

"Donna, you have to go back to work, you can't just stay with me day in day out. I feel more myself now, so it's really ok. And I was actually thinking of going back to work tomorrow, too. I think it might be a good distraction and I would feel useful."

Rachel gives Donna a soft glance, flashing a bland smile, striking her long brown hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"Rach, are you sure? Because if you need me, I really don't care if Louis instructed me to go to work tomorrow, my priority is definitely to be there for you." , concern deepening her tone.

"Yes Donna, I think this would be the best. I also think I start to get on Harvey's nerves, occupying his sacred place."

Donna gives her a reproving look, followed by a minor head shake.

"Oh, please! Forget Harvey, besides he is really glad he can be of any help to you!"

Rachel's eyes are filled with doubt about this debatable assertion, but she doesn't protest, instead reaching for another chocolate cookie in the ceramic bowl placed on the couch table in front of her.

Slowly nibbling on the sweet deliciousness, her eyebrows contract as a thought is passing through her mind, apparently a quite bothering one.

"Do you think it's Professor Gerard who talked? What interest would he have to tell the D.A. about Mike? Especially now?"

Surprised that Rachel broaches the subject as she before refused to even consider talking about it, suggesting they should watch something to get her mind off of things instead, almost breaking out in tears again when they went through Harvey's DVDs and Donna proposed the Usual Suspects, as it must have pulled a mental trigger, reminding her that Mike is actually in an interrogation room.

"Well, Harvey has the theory that it's Hardman behind all of it. If he went to Gerard and asked if he knows about any skeletons in Harvey's closet, probably threatening him with exposing his gambling problem to the Harvard board, I guess Gerard would have talked."

"And why would he back out? What does Harvey have on him that is worse than the gambling?"

"It has something to do with a bribery covered up by Harvey as a loan, which not only would get him fired, but also behind bars. So I guess Harvey has the upper hand on this one."

Rachel bites her lip, removing a tiny cookie crumble, her eyes wandering from Donna to nowhere, her voice timid as she asks:

"What if it's not Gerard?"

Hearing Rachel speak it out loud, made this option even more horrifying, and Donna, after all, did not fully agree with Harvey on his theory. She didn't say anything to him, or to Rachel, but deep inside she wasn't so sure that it was Gerard who ratted Mike out. It would be a too easy fix, and her gut told her that it won't be an easy fix at all.

"That's why we made the list. Harvey could be wrong and it doesn't have anything to do with Gerard or Hardman. We will find out after he confronts Gerard. But before that, we can just sit here and wait for Harvey to come back and take it from there. So the only useful thing to do right now, is to finish the movie and the ice cream, before it turns into sauce, which would ruin the chunky in the monkey."

Rachel gives Donna a little melancholic smile, trying intensively to be brave under the given circumstances, and pushes the Play button on the remote control to continue with the movie, placing her head on Donna's shoulder, as Jean Reno and Robert de Niro start flashing over the screen, not really paying attention to the story, just letting herself get sedated by the action movie to blend out her thoughts about Mike.

The blown off engagement.

His plan to plead guilty and end up in prison.

The chance she might never see him again.

And that for them, there might not be a happy end.

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"You smug son of a bitch, you just couldn't keep your damn mouth shut, could you? What did Hardman tell you? Oh, I bet you two make the perfect dream couple, one belongs behind bars for his crimes and you will soon be there first, waiting impatiently for your buddy to join you!"

Harvey stands in the doorway, panting with rage, his features a grotesque embodiment of one of the deadly seven sins, wrath.

"That's a very unusual way to greet your old mentor, and after our last conversation I was already intrigued to believe a friend would be a more fitting description. But well. Close the door, Mr. Specter, we don't want Nancy from down the hallway to call security, right?"

Professor Gerard leans back in the chair behind his desk, curiousity growing behind his brown eyes as Harvey closes the door as told, seemingly not being intimidated by Harvey's outbreak at all, his voice calm as he speaks up again.

"Well, Mr. Specter, I know it's only nearly afternoon, but you look like you need a drink."

His hand gestures towards the whiskey bottle placed on a small table in a corner of his office along with two tumblers.

"And while you're at it, fix me a drink as well. I think we both might need it regarding the conversation we are about to have."

"If you want a drink go fetch it yourself, I'm not your motherfucking servant!"

"Sure, of course, where are my manners?"

Gerard gets up and fills both whiskey tumblers with the Wild Turkey, placing one glass before him and the other on the opposite side of the desk, pointing to the chair in front of it, followed by a "Please."

Harvey shows no intention to react on this invitation to sit down, but after several moments, he complies, taking the proposed seat.

"So, Mr. Specter, how can I be of your service today?"

"You bastard, you..."

"Ah ah ah!" Gerard interrupts Harvey, lifting up his hand to increase the stopping effect.

"Let's stay civil, shall we? I know it may seem implausible, but at least we could try."

Harvey's face hardens from impatience and anger about this piece of shit who clearly wants to show off his domination of the situation to him. His eyes wildly shift through the room as he takes in a deep breath before fixing his glance back at Gerard, the urge to grab this asshole by the collar and throw him through this room is itching in him.

"You wanna stay civil? You think you're above things, don't you? Manners and all that, fuck that shit. I should just introduce you to my fist, I bet it would like to meet your jaw. They would spend a lovely time together, while you will spit out one tooth after another like popcorn. So stick your civil bullshit up your ass and start talking."

"Talking about what? The weather? Harvey, I don't really know what you think I did or did not do or whatever this is that made you storm into my office this afternoon and throw insults in my face, but I would really like to hear it."

"You. Hardman. Mike Ross. Start talking."

"Mike Ross? Last time I saw him I asked him to take the Liberty Rail case, which apparently was the wrong call as it went to, pardon my french, shit."

"Don't play dumb here. When did Hardman contact you? Or was it Tanner? I guess one or the other threatened to tell your dirty little secret to the board, right? Well, guess what, asshole. I will go straight to the D.A. with your other even dirtier little secret after I leave this office, so you better start telling me every fucking detail of how you ratted Mike Ross out, or I will remember that I actually don't have the time to sit here and look into your old ugly face."

"Ratted out? What on earth..."

Gerard takes a sip from the Bourbon before giving Harvey an inquiring look, his tone quiet and almost soft, as he goes on.

"Harvey. I understand something happened here, and you are under the false impression I may be involved in this. Let me assure you, I am not. No one named Hardman or Tanner contacted me, and I never told one single soul about me not having any record of Mike Ross being at my class, except you and him. So why don't you calm down, try the whiskey and tell me the whole story? I might not have caused this, but I might at least help. I really liked the kid and I'm sorry to hear that apparently he is in trouble of some sort, but believe me or not, I'm not the one who put him there."

Maybe because of the calmness of his voice, the sincere concern in his eyes, for whatever reason, Harvey instantly believes him, the feeling as if an air balloon just got deflated of all that was inside is overcoming him, his anger but also his hope vanishing right in front of Gerard.

Gerard observes Harvey's reaction to this declaration, clearly noticing the change in his posture, the tantrum gives way for perplexity as obviously Harvey's plan A didn't go as anticipated, his bewildered glance striking his own before he reaches for the glass, emptying the 2 fingers of whiskey in one shot, screwing his face up in disgust.

"Dear god, Gerard, can't you afford a better brand of Bourbon? Remind me, when this is over, I'll take care of that for you."

"Trust me, you get used to that. But of course, I wouldn't mind to have a Macallan 18 in my possession. Especially as you owe me an apology for all this theatre."

They exchange a smirk, before Harvey gets up for a refill, leaning towards a bookshelf, one hand in his pocket, one wrapped around the glass.

"Well, what can I say, you were my number one suspect, I had to come hard on you. And I'm not gonna apologize to you for that. But I can tell you why I am here in the first place. Mike Ross got arrested for fraud."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The cell phone startles Rachel who almost fell asleep, the movie and the cookies and ice cream made her doze off. It is her ringtone, and it might be Mike.

She rises her head from Donna's lap, grabs the phone from the couch table, only to recognize the caller i.d. as Mom.

"Oh my god, it's my mom!"

Panic flashes her as she remembers that she had the wedding dress fitting appointment this afternoon, accompanied by her mother.

In the turn of events she didn't spend one glimpse of a second to think about it, or canceling it.

Or how to tell her mom and dad. Or the other wedding related things she has to take care of.

She and her mother might have had a fight, but the dress fitting was already set at that point, and after all, she thought it would be a good moment to come to terms about the wedding arrangements with her, especially as her mother surely wouldn't go untouched by seeing her only daughter in her wedding gown, soothing her disappointment about the small wedding.

Her panicking eyes meet Donna's, her voice riddled with anxiety.

"What am I gonna say? We had a dress fitting today, oh my god, how will I even begin to tell my parents about Mike?"

"Don't say anything yet, just tell her you got caught up at work and forgot to postpone."

She swallows hard, getting up from the couch, her tongue glued to her gums, nervously pacing around the living room, answering the call.

"Hi mom! Yes I know, I got held up at work. I'm very sorry. We will have to reschedule, it's not going to work out today at all. I'm sorry I forgot to cancel. Mom, look, I have to go, I really don't have time to argue with you about this. We got handed this major case this morning, I'm all packed with files, I'll call you back some other time ok? I love you and I'm sorry, ok? Bye."

Rachel stares at the cell phone, disconnecting the call, the bad conscience and discomfort caused by lying to her mother written all over her face.

"Your actress skills are developable, sorry to say that. Haven't you thought about the fact you will have to tell your parents the whole Mike story?"

Rachel turns back to Donna, her face flinches as she replies.

"You mean why their soon to be son-in-law is in custody and blew the wedding off? No, quite frankly I haven't thought about that yet. Neither I thought about that I have to cancel the Plaza, or the caterer, or everything else. We have an apartment, his apartment, his stuff is there, our life is there, and now he doesn't even fight for it? How can all of this, all of us, mean so little to him that he just can give it all up without putting up a fight? So how can I explain that to my parents if I can't even explain it to myself?"

Tears linger in the corners of Rachel's eyes after her outburst, as she rushes out of the room, Donna's "Rachel, wait!" drowned out by the sound of the slammed guest bedroom door.

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"First class? Perfect! No, thank YOU, madam!"

Relieved that he doesn't have to fly economy twice in one day, once already has been enough, Harvey ends the phone call, a wide grin emerging on his face, heading for a cab nearby.

"To the airport, please. And if you make it in under 30 minutes, I'll make it a 100 bucks."

Sitting in the back of the taxi, the driver of moroccan descent speeding through the already beginning rush hour, obviously swearing in his native tongue at every red light judging by the tone and his face expression, Harvey has some time to think about what this fruitless encounter with Gerard implies.

So, he was not the one who talked to Hardman, but his gut feeling still points to Hardman's and Forstman's involvement leading to Mike's arrest.

Harvey calls to mind the other suspects, Trevor for example, this asshole who went to Jessica to spill the beans about Mike. He would be next on Harvey's list.

Unless Rachel came up with some more urgent candidates. But so far, he is planning to pay Trevor an unfriendly visit, maybe even tonight.

He should arrive back in New York by 7 p.m. , if the flight goes as scheduled, which means he could be banging on Trevor's door, or on his face, by 10 p.m. .

Perfect.

He takes out his cell phone, speed dialing Donna, but apparently her line is occupied as he only reaches her voicemail. He decides not to leave a message, there will still be enough time to find out Trevor's home address after he is back. Probably Rachel even has it, or it's lying around somewhere in their appartment.

Either way, right now he could not do much, and checking the time on the taximeter and catching a glimpse of the driver's frustrated face, being nowhere even near the airport and 23 minutes in, Harvey allows his mind to wander off to a subject of a more private matter.

Donna. By now his back then seemingly brilliant move didn't look so clever and smooth to him any more, more childish and gawky.

At least he put her off her stride to just ignore those minutes before Rachel came in this morning, and reminded her that, unlike her, he wasn't planning on ignoring them on her behalf.

He normally never had to do much to ensnare a woman, his smirk most of the times did the job for him, his charme did the rest.

But Donna was not his normal prey, well, by all means, it felt more like she was the predator in their case, definitely in charge of every possibility of an interaction, and even when she was still his secretary, he most of the times did not feel like he would be her boss.

As if this woman could have someone above her.

He remembers this incident when he waved around his hands like Cameron Dennis used to back in the day, the "I'm here, you're here." to show her her place in the food chain.

God, what an idiotic attempt. Didn't work on him back then, and sure as shit didn't work on her.

It was just an insult to their partnership. And friendship. Also clearly showing her what a dick he was.

Well, what's done is done, but he would not make the same mistake again.

Dr. Agard would surely propose that honesty would be the best strategy to allure Donna, but hell, what does she know, right?

But maybe it would be a good idea to arrange some dinner, with just the two of them, he could even cook his famous coq au vin, uncork some Châteauneuf du Pape, and see where it would go from there. Who knows, maybe after the second bottle of this great red wine, he would even consider to open up to this other great red one.

The taxi comes to a harsh stop, the brakes squeaking like tortured pigs.

"Mister, we at airport! 29 minutes! You say 100 dollars if less than 30 minutes!"

"Trust me, I haven't forgot. Great job, and thank you. You know what, let's make it 150. You've earned it."

Leaving the cab behind, the over excited driver still screaming thank you's in his direction, Harvey enters the airport, already looking forward to the first class treatment awaiting him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel approaches the elevator, the backpack, filled with the few things Donna threw in there last night when they stopped by at her and Mike's apartment, hanging on her shoulder, the furred hoodie of her light grey pullover covering the messy knot holding together her dark brown hair.

Donna grabs her arm to hold her back, using her most convincing and gentle tone.

"Rachel, don't you want to wait for Harvey to come back at least? He could have some news, or some questions about the people on the list or..."

"Donna, I'm sorry, but I can't stay here! I told you everything I know about everyone on this goddamn list, so in case Harvey has questions, I bet you can answer them as well. I'll be back at the office tomorrow, so, whatever comes up, can wait til then. I can't do this right now."

Rachel turns her head away from Donna's concerned stare, shaking off the grip around her arm.

"Rachel, are you angry at me for what I said? I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you, really, I..."

Rachel's voice sour as she interrupts her, stinging Donna's ears with the acid note behind it.

"I'm not angry at you, Donna, I'm angry at all of it. And you know what, most of all, I'm angry at Mike. And I just have to be alone right now. I can't sit here ..." her hands wildly gesturing on the entirety of Harvey's apartment, "...and wait any more for someone to come up with something that might bring him back, bring my life back. I'm just so angry at him, that I can't even entrust my parents about all of this because of him, that he left me here all by myself and with a cryptic phone call ending our relationship and our future, and I know it's wrong to be mad at him, but I am. So, I can't handle none of this right now, and I'm tired, I'm just tired, and I really thank you and Harvey that you were there for me, but I just have to deal with this by myself right now."

The more mild tone at the end forces Donna to accept her decision.

Followed by a quick hug and a mumbled "Thank you for everything!", Rachel pushes the elevator button, the doors sliding open for her.

"Take care, okay? You can call me day and night, I'll be there in a second!"

A sad smile flashes Rachel's features as the elevator starts to go down, leaving Donna and Harvey's apartment behind.

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After the more pleasant flight back to New York, Ray's black limousine chauffeurs Harvey through the already darkened city to his loft, the sky illuminated not by stars or the moon but by the countless electric lights, chasing the night away.

They make a quick detour to pick up some dinner, Harvey going for some italian this time, choosing goat cheese tortellini, goose liver ravioli and fettuccine with pancetta, along with some antipasti variations and 3 bottles of Chianti.

The savory smell of the food fills up the inside of the car, causing Harvey's stomach to roar of hunger.

He just had another scotch, or two, and some tiny ass canapé, consisting of a toast triangle topped with some sea salt butter and smoked salmon, on his flight back.

After those two last days he has to squeeze in at least a 5 mile run along with some boxing rounds, or this carb load would start to show soon.

But right now, all he wanted to do is bury his face deep into the fettuccine, and drown it all down with the exquisite Chianti, after another long, exhausting day, yet still possibly being topped off by a rendevouz with Trevor.

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Donna pours herself a glass of the remaining Chardonnay, placing herself along with it on the couch, about to zap through the channels, a little bit distraught by Rachel's abrupt leave, as her cell phone rings.

She rolls her eyes as she suspects another call from Louis, but a quick check of the caller i.d. proves her wrong.

Mitch.

Her eyes widen in shock, she was not quite prepared for that, also not having the slightest idea what she should or should not say, as her decision about this whole Harvey thing was not written in stone, not even written on paper, or, not having any form of a written instance in her mind at all.

She absentmindedly reaches for her drink, taking two huge sips, before answering the call.

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The first thing Harvey hears as the elevator doors open is Donna's nagging voice.

"No, you listen to me now! There is no point in screaming at me like a little girl, Mitch, I'm sorry but it's the way it is. What we had was nice, but it was not IT. I can't explain it to you..."

"Can you for a second stop this crap? Jesus, ok, you know what, this isn't worth my time. I tried to be nice and gentle about all this, as you are a nice guy and I really liked you, but honestly, I'm running out of patience with your whining... "

"You can accept it or not, as I said, but we can't see each other any more. It wouldn't be fair to you or me.."

"Yes, I know, but..."

"Okay..."

"Really? You are threatening me? Are you serious? Ok, that's it. Goodbye, Mitch, I wish you the very best, and if you contact me again, you'll hear from my lawyer!"

Donna throws her phone to the other end of the couch, refilling the glass in her hand with the last few drops of wine.

"Well, if you need a lawyer, my schedule is pretty much empty at the moment."

Her head abruptly turns around, her bewildered stare fixating Harvey, obviously startled by his sudden appearance as she overheard him come in.

"How much did you hear?"

Donna asks him, clearly not amused about him listening in on her private conversation with her now ex-boyfriend.

"Just that someone will hear from your lawyer, so I thought I might offer you my services as so far, my client list is pretty small."

Harvey bestows her with his brightest grin, obscuring the fact he has heard much more of the conversation between her and Mitch as he can admit without her freaking out.

So, apparently Mitch has sealed his own faith. Good. But won't save his teeth from a conversation with Harvey's fist for threatening Donna.

"Well, ok, Mr. Specter, I'll let you know if I will consider becoming your only client.", replying his grin with an even more mischievous one.

"Yes, just rub it in, Ms. Paulson, but as your future lawyer I must advise you not to piss your lawyer off if you want him to act in your best interest."

Harvey goes to the kitchen counter, putting down the bags with the italian delicacies, starting to unpack them, one by one.

"By the way, I brought along some italian for dinner. It's even still warm. Where's Rachel?"

He looks back over his shoulder, his eyebrows up, noticing that Donna averts his gaze.

"She left."

"What do you mean she left? Where did she go?"

Harvey, a bit confused about this information, particularly as Donna's voice sounded kind of gloomy, stops in the middle of unpacking the food, his attention focused on Donna.

"She said she wanted to be alone right now and that we see each other at work tomorrow. She packed her things and left."

Donna inspects the insides of her glass, letting the inch of liquid spin around at the bottom.

"Hum, well, I guess that's good, no? I mean I'm not an expert in this whole emotional hanky panky, but if she is ready to deal with the events on her own, I would say that's a good sign. But what do I know, I'm an emotional retard, right?" he adds as he catches her throwing him a doubtful and cynical look, provoking his sarcasm.

"I'm just here because you may have questions about the list, so I..."

"Let's talk about it over dinner. I'm hungry as fuck, and we have a lot of shit to discuss, so let's just combine those two."

"Sure. So I guess I can't ask how it went with Gerard?"

"Later." , Harvey's speech muffled by chewing a ravioli he could not resist.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harvey serves the last reheated plate with the fettuccine, the dining table now all set, the Chianti uncorked, the glasses filled, Donna already took a sip or two as he was taking care of the dinner, and as Harvey can see, also one or two antipasti, this sneaky little act making him smile.

Finally he sits down as well, raising his glass.

"Well, to what shall we drink first? To Mike being arrested or to the fact we are not any further in getting him out of there? I guess both of them are shitty reasons. But, I know what I will drink to."

Donna's break up with Mitch, he secretly adds in his mind.

"And what would that be?"

Donna takes a sip before loading her plate with the tasty looking food, taking a bite from a goat cheese filled tortellini.

"That's a secret." Harvey mystically replies, in between two bites from another ravioli, his eyebrow going up in amusement.

"Aha. So is it a secret too how it went with Gerard? I know you and Louis have some secret pact going on with helping Mike out, I just hope you boys didn't drag yourselves into some satanic cult of some sort with black candles and cat sacrifices. Although I guess Louis wouldn't like that very much."

"What, the black candles? No, I don't think that will be a problem."

Donna shakes her head but can't suppress a giggle.

After another ravioli, and the short and quite disturbing image of Louis in a black robe performing weird rituals surrounded by candles and cats flashing through his mind, Harvey is ready to tell Donna about Gerard.

"First of all, you were right. No more economy for me."

"I'm Donna, after 12 years you should know I'm always right. So what happened? Did you end up sitting next to a fat guy with a smelly homemade sandwich?"

"How do you... Yeah, you are truly Donna. But anyway, it was even worse as the other fat guy listened to Jessica Simpson's greatest hits full blast, I think I will never get over this blasphemy of These boots are made for walkin' . Speaking of..."

Harvey suddenly gets up from the table, approaching his hi-fi equipment, going through some records before he picks out a Charles Bradley album, and lets it play.

"Much better.", he mumbles as the first notes of Dusty Blue emerge from the speakers.

Well, it might be not his famous coq au vin, and it might not be a Châteauneuf du Pape, but he was alone with her, and he would take advantage of that. Especially with this asshole Mitch out of the picture.

"Harvey."

Donna's impatience is written all over her face, obviously she can't wait for him to tell the whole episode about Gerard. But Harvey decides to keep her in suspense just a little more.

"Oh, if you don't like this song, I can play something else. Spice Girls?"

"Haha and don't you ever say anything about the Spice Girls, they had the right groove at the right time."

"Jesus, ok, ok. So Gerard."

"Yes Gerard."

"He didn't do it."

As Donna stays silent, neither shocked, nor disappointed, Harvey grasps that she never agreed with his theory in the first place.

"I guess I should have just asked you and saved myself this agonizing trip to Boston."

"I didn't know, Harvey. But, I had a tiny suspicion. That's all."

She shrugs, stabbing some fettuccine with the fork.

"You could have told me."

"I could have been wrong."

"You're Donna, aren't you?"

She can hear the disappointment in his voice about her being right and him being wrong with his idea, feeling the need to soothe those sharp and stinging edges and reassure him of his capacities.

"What difference does it make? It was a good call to check on that end, even if it turned out to be a dead one. Now we can cross it off the list. Speaking of which..."

This time Donna gets up, going to the couch table where she deposited the list earlier when Harvey started to set the table.

"If it's not Gerard, then we should check the others. We have the usual suspects here, Trevor for example, and some new additions I didn't know about."

Donna hands him over the list, Harvey's eyes shifting as he is reading the names.

"Who the fuck is Claire?"

"Oh, so she is a lawyer and Mike's ex girlfriend, she appeared in the firm as the opposite party on Mike's first case as a Junior partner, so Rachel had to take his place so she wouldn't find out it's THE Mike Ross she knew and who already fooled her to believe he went to law school before getting an attack of honesty and tell her the truth. Anyway, this whole cat-and-mouse game didn't play out as she found out in the end, but she told Rachel she would not say anything. So, that's Claire."

"Okay."

Harvey takes a sip from the wine and so does Donna, as she is nervous he won't take that one specific name especially well.

But so far his eyes go back to the top, nodding as he reads the familiar name.

"Trevor, yeah. I want to pay that dipshit a visit most definitely."

"By the way, the two just met again some days ago, Mike wanted him to come to the wedding, but apparently this went south and Mike was pretty upset after, then he went on a magical mystery ride the next day, and then decided to quit. So, if it was Trevor or not, maybe he knows where Mike went that day because he didn't tell Rachel what he was up to. Must have been some soul search trip with a deep impact as it led to his resignation. And we can't really ask Mike about it, right?"

"Yes, cause he's being an idiot. But sure, I'll pay Trevor a visit next. Maybe Rachel has his current address or something?"

"Don't bother, I already performed my Donna magic on this one. And, sent you an email. I had some time, you know."

She gives him a sassy wink, while Harvey softly shakes his head and sighs, a smile appearing on his lips.

"I could kiss you right now."

Right now and any other time as well, he thinks to himself, but right now would be a good start. He focuses on her eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of something beyond flirtation, to see if she can read between the words or if she would interpret it as a harmless 'thank you', like in so many other cases with them.

"Then why don't you go ahead and do it."

Donna is shocked by her mindless reply, or maybe not so mindless after all?

She broke up with Mitch, intentionally, tired of being with someone who doesn't have her full heart, not even a quarter of it, once again. Like so many times before.

And she tried, she really did. With Mitch, with the several other love interests in her life. Except it wasn't love. It never was. It was nice, it was comforting, it kept her body and her mind occupied, distracting her from this one thing she could not have, not even allowing herself to have it. To have him.

Unintentionally blushing up thus giving her words a more concrete and quite physical meaning, her mouth getting dry as she watches his lips slightly part, his smirk minimally tingling the corners, both simultaneously reaching for their wine glass, both taking a long sip, without letting their eyes slip away, their gaze bonding, the tension increasing like electricity, up to high-voltage.

Harvey puts the list down, ready to go over there and do exactly as he was told, but in the corner of his eyes he sees another name scribbled on the paper, covered by his thumb before as he took a quick look on the most common names.

Something strikes a nerve, by the chicken scratch handwriting he can only decipher Sc, but nevertheless, he has a bad presentiment, his eyes narrow as he tries to read the rest, giving Donna the benefit of the doubt.

"By the way, who the fuck is Scollu?"

Donna's eyes widen, proving him right.

"Uh, what? Let me see."

"Donna, don't bullshit me. You put Scottie on the list. You. Rachel didn't know that I told her. Why on earth would you do that?"

Harvey's face hardens up, his mouth one pressed together line, his eyebrows risen, awaiting her explanation.

"I... You told us to be thorough, so, as I know you told Scottie about Mike, and therefore she knows, I asked Rachel to add her too."

"So you don't really think Scottie is the one who talked, right? That's just like adding me, or you, or Rachel, right?"

Harvey doesn't want to go this route, proposing every possible detour, his voice nearly reaches a begging veneer.

"I don't know, Harvey. You could call her and set it straight. Just to make sure. Right?"

Donna refills her glass, performing a slight shrug while bringing the rim to her lips.

"Donna, I'm not going to call Scottie and bother her with this crap, she has nothing to do with this, and you know that."

Harvey's voice fills up with discontent, the idea Scottie could be behind Mike's arrest was mindblowing and definitely impossible.

"I don't know nothing of that kind, Harvey. All I know is, things with her didn't end well, and I also know she is a woman who can hold a grudge for a long time. And she knows about Mike."

"What do you mean hold a grudge, what grudge?"

His forehead wrinkles up as he really doesn't know what Scottie could hold up against him. He is sure that she knew, and still knows that he tried his best with her, yet still miserably failed.

"Jesus, Harvey, first you bring her into the firm because of you, then you get her to leave the firm because of you, basically ruining her career because of you. And you know, one of the reasons your relationship did not work, was because you didn't trust her. So now you two broke up, and you told her Mike's secret, suddenly she becomes trustworthy? Suddenly all this shady shit she pulled on you becomes not valuable?"

"You just always despised her."

Anger rushes through him, he just can't believe she just said that.

"What? No I did not! If it wouldn't be for me, you would have never ended up in any sort of serious relationship with her, and you should know that."

Her pulse increases as she feels a wave of rebellion against the false accusations swamp her.

"Bullshit. You were jealous!"

"Me? Jealous? Now that's some really fucked up bullshit!"

How could he even think that, and despite that even say it to her face? She feels the arteries in her neck pulsating, pumping blood into her already most likely enraged face.

"Oh right, you were never jealous. Not even this morning, when I called Magdalena, no, you weren't jealous at all."

Shame flashes her like an ice cold shower, but either way, she tries to stay calm.

"This has nothing to do with Scottie and your poor judgement who to entrust with Mike's secret and who not."

"My poor judgement? Are you shitting me?"

Harvey feels his face redden up, the perceived injustice about her words forcing up his blood pressure.

"No, I'm not shitting you, Harvey, I'm just saying Scottie is a woman who possibly could be capable of doing something like that, as loyalty is not one of her specialties. You broke her heart, Harvey, along with her career! She cheated on her fiance, and he didn't even break her heart or her career."

That was enough.

"Then why did you want me to be with her? Why did you more or less force me into giving this a try when I was not even willing to do so in the first place?"

"I... I thought you could be happy. I don't know. I guess I was wrong."

Donna stutters first, maybe a premiere in her entire life, telling him a good intended, white lie she also told herself.

"If you really think Scottie would be capable of ratting Mike out for the sole purpose of payback for the fact that we did not work out, how the fuck could you think a woman like that would ever make me happy?"

"I..."

"You didn't play cupid with me and her because you wanted me to be happy. You did that so you can have me out of any possible reach, once I would be in a serious relationship."

Hitting the truth too close, Donna feels her precautious walls going up, defending and denying.

"That's just not true, Harvey, I really thought you would have feelings for her and I just tried to make you admit them."

"Bullshit, Donna! You, of all people! You, who preached into my neck, day in day out, honesty this, honesty, that, emotions this, emotions that, and now you can't even fucking admit it? You, so high and mighty on your white horse, the queen of wisdom and all this shit, you are telling me, that you pushed me into Scottie's arms because you thought I would, or at least could, love her? Really? When I could not even trust her? And then you pushed me so far I even told her about Mike? Just for the pure sake to be a better man? She was not the woman who I wanted to be a better man for. If it wouldn't have been for you, I would have never been with her after I found out that she cheated on her fiance with me. Let alone tell her about Mike. So don't you dare and try to blame this on me!"

Harvey did raise his voice some decibels louder than he intended, but what he raised even more was the emotional undertone, soaked in disbelief about how she was able to push him into another woman's arms although she knew she was not the right one for him, and the torment about her not perceiving what was lingering behind his words, when actually he said all there was to say. There you go, honesty. Fuck that shit.

"I'm not blaming this on you, Harvey. I never really could."

Resignation fills her voice, the anger fading.

"I better go."

Donna gets up, her hand reaches for her handbag by the couch.

"Can you ask Ray if he would just drop off my suitcase at the firm tomorrow? I would really appreciate that."

"Why?"

"Why what, Harvey? I'm tired, and I don't want to drag this suitcase through the streets in the night."

"No. That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean, Harvey? What do you ever mean? I'm just tired of guessing, and interpreting, and then hear your accusations because apparently I didn't get it right. I can't do this any more, Harvey. That's why I quit working for you. It's never this or the other. It's just never anything. At least not something that works for me. I just, I just can't..."

"Stay."

"What? Why on earth should I stay?"

"I know you wanted me to stay."

Both of them aware which time they were talking about.

"But you didn't."

"I know. I wasn't ready."

"So what changed? Nothing changed! It's the same bullshit again and again, and I'm just not doing this no more!"

Harvey's eyes lock with hers, his tone determined, as he pronounces those words with the most possible severity.

"Donna, stay."