It was weird for Harvey; weird when he sat in his office, talking to a client about how the man's business was doomed and there was nothing to be done and yet his voice failed to work because he was looking over his client's shoulder into the hall outside, where his handpicked associate was sitting with the client's little girl. They weren't playing exactly. The girl was eight and knew how to be calm, but she was still a child. Mike was a good person to play babysitter during the meeting, Harvey had decided. Only now he wasn't as sure. Mike was teaching her some secret handshake involving knuckle bumps and they were both grinning.
The girl's father pleaded in front of Harvey, asking for some loophole to be found and ignorant of the loss of Harvey's attention. Mike glanced up from the girl to try and gauge how everything was going. The girl probably asked if her daddy was going to be alright. Mike probably fell in love with her the moment he'd met her and had told her everything would be fine, because Mike Ross was a bleeding heart in a world of stone organs and didn't understand the idea of giving up on someone with a pretty smile, a sob story, or a cute kid.
When Mike's puppy eyes hit Harvey's distracted gaze, the lawyer turned all his attention back to his client and sighed. Some things Harvey had decided he'd avoid at all costs were sappy cases and pro bono cases. He hated charity work. Then again, he'd also never wanted a puppy, of any sort. Now he had both. And if he lost this case, Mike's disappointed eyes would never let him live it down, even if Mike himself forgot.