Hi there! Spoilers for Suits (best not to read if you haven't finished season three).
The setting for this fic is in season three, just after the part where Mike and Harvey get Ava Hessington (the British oil company lady) cleared of murder charges and the merger between Darby international and Pearson Hardman is over.
The only real change from the show so far is that, in this fic, I'm assuming Mike and Rachel never got together at the end of season two and instead are just good friends. Also, I'm not sure if the lines from the pilot episode are 100% accurate - if they're not, please feel free to correct me.
So yeah, thanks for reading!
I
'We should hire you. I'd give you the $2500 as a signing bonus.'
The words he'd said that fateful day ran through his mind – and, if he was being honest with himself, in and of themselves, they'd been a mistake. A joke the kid wasn't meant to have taken seriously. And yet Mike had.
'I'll take it.'
He'd given Mike a look, a warning. 'Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way…'
But in the end, it had. Because Mike had impressed him - had shown Harvey he deserved a second chance. And so Harvey had hired a man who'd never even set foot in any law school, let alone Harvard. He'd hired a fraud.
And he hadn't regretted it since.
-x-
Harvey pushes the memory aside and walks with purpose because that's all he knows; how to be confident, even when, deep inside, you don't feel it. And it's the first time in his life that he doesn't feel it. He doesn't know how this will go.
Grey pavement passes underneath him; every step is another opportunity to turn back. But he doesn't. He's done ignoring it; hiding it. Even though this is the worst possible time he could pick. He's never been one to jeopardise important relationships – but he's hoping that, if it comes to it, theirs' can survive… this, whatever this ends up being.
He chose not to take his car and he still doesn't really know why. Of course, walking takes longer, and a part of him wonders if he'll lose his nerve by the time he arrives… but losing his nerve will mean – a) admitting he's too cowardly to go through with this and – b) that he'll have to live with the fact that things will never change.
And he can't deal with either option.
Shit, when did I become sentimental?
And too afraid to fight for what I want?
No.
Harvey hates to use that word in relation to himself; scared. So he stubbornly refuses to believe any part of him is frightened now. He's running on a fuel of determination and exhaustion – because, if he's being honest with himself, he's tired of pretending.
He reaches his associate's building.
God.
His associate.
Shit.
He hopes this doesn't count as harassment. His ever growing list of enemies would simply have a field day…
He enters the building, then reaches Mike's hallway. Despite all the thoughts running through his mind, he doesn't hesitate at the door; he immediately raises his fist.
Knock knock knock.
The noise reverberates throughout the hallway. Several minutes pass before the door is opened; and there he is.
Harvey's biggest problem.
Mike goddamn Ross.
And for a moment, Harvey loses his resolve.
Mike looks startled to see him (although there's nothing new about that; he always seems startled when Harvey shows up at his home.) His hair is a mess – kid was probably napping – and his shirt is rumpled.
"Harvey – what's wrong?" His blue eyes are the size of dinner plates; taking in Harvey and his hard, closed expression. He can probably tell there's something subtly different about his boss tonight.
Harvey can read Mike easily; Mike thinks he's mad. Maybe he thinks a deal has fallen through, or something's gone wrong with the disillusionment talks.
Harvey's a lot of things right now, but he's not mad; and, looking at Mike, he's no longer nervous. His shoulders, previously tensed up, relax.
"What do you need me to do?" Mike adds, Harvey's silence probably confirming his fears that something horrible has happened. Well, depending on how you take this, that may or may not be true, Harvey thinks.
Harvey shakes his head slightly. "No, I… need to talk to you. About something serious."
"Right, as opposed to our usual light hearted conversations about who's bopping who on Downtown Abbey." Mike rolls his eyes.
Harvey raises an eyebrow. "Done trying to be funny?" Inwardly, he cringes – be nice to him – talk to him smoothly. But he knows smooth talk won't work here. Mike is… different.
"Oh, I never try to be funny – I just naturally am." Mike's smile fades as Harvey's serious expression remains. In actuality, it takes a lot of willpower for Harvey to fight off a smirk. "Harvey, what's going on – ?"
"Mike." Harvey says his name heavily, with about three different meanings; listen to me, calm down, get ready for shit to hit the fan.
Mike stands back, waiting.
"I need you to know; I'm not high."
"Er, good. That's always a good way to start a conversation…?"
Harvey rolls his eyes. "And, again, I need you to understand I'm being completely serious here."
"Uh, sure. Is this about the firm – ?" Mike begins.
"No." Harvey cuts him off with a firm shake of the head. "It's not." He looks at Mike, trying to tell him without telling him. The seconds stretch by. Come on kid, you're smart…
"So… what is it about, then?" Mike asks slowly, his expression suddenly becoming unreadable. Harvey finds this disconcerting; his whole life revolves around his ability to read other people. "Donna?"
"No –"
"Rachel?" One of Mike's closest friends at the firm. "Or… Scottie?" He adds uncertainly.
Harvey feels a pang of annoyance; he keeps it in check. He shifts his weight so he's leaning against the doorframe. Does Mike really not know? "It's about you, Mike."
The colour drains from his face. "Does someone else know about me…?" His biggest fear; being ousted as a fraud.
Harvey shakes his head. Then he takes a deep breath and puts one hand, heavily, on Mike's shoulder. Here goes.
He looks at Mike. He knows his mouth is a firm line, but, for once, he wills his eyes to be as transparent as possible. It's harder than Harvey thought it would be. "Mike," he repeats the name, and his tone says it all.
Mike.
This is about you.
It's been about you for a while now.
He doesn't say it, but he knows Mike can see it. Mike's not bad at reading people himself, when he really tries.
Mike tries to look neutral, to keep his expression unreadable. But he has tells; Harvey picks up on them instantly. Mike's eyes have widened, twin skies of confusion. His hands, previously curled in, are now open; his fingers splayed in shock.
"Well...?" Harvey prompts.
"Shit," Mike finally says. He steps back, slowly. Harvey lets his hand fall away. He tilts his head, but doesn't say anything, realising Mike needs time.
Mike exhales sharply and gives Harvey a long look. Harvey senses that part of him still doesn't believe it. "Come inside," he invites, and now it's Harvey's turn to feel shocked.
He hides his surprise better than Mike and simply raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"
"We should… we should talk. This is some serious shit. If you're… serious, that is." Despite everything, he looks uncertain.
"I am," Harvey says.
Mike moves out of the way, his eyes assessing the older man. Harvey can practically see the gears in his brain whirring, calculating, trying to make sense of this. "Right. Then come on in."
And Harvey enters, closing the door behind him.