This is the same story as "Fast Cars and Loose Visions", but as told from Harvey's perspective. I tried to make it work by itself, but it really does work best if you've read the first story.
Written for .Picaxx, who requested this story. I hope it is to your satisfaction!
Harvey had pulled off to the side of Geoffrey Thurgan's garage when Jessica called.
He was feeling horribly depressed and bitter that her call had effectively destroyed his chances to ride in Thurgan's 1955 Porsche 550 spyder. Ever since he'd seen it in the man's garage he'd dreamt of riding in that car. Hell, he'd even take just sitting in it. But, it was Jessica, and he couldn't snub her no matter the reason.
So he'd put his game face on to hide his disappointment, and moved to the side to allow full attention to be given to his boss.
She was talking about how he'd have to rescue some case of Louis's, which had, of course, gone down like a comet, and now it was his responsibility to fix it. Harvey listened as attentively as possible as he kept an eye on his associate.
Mike had been too close to the expensive automobiles for anyone's comfort, but Thurgan didn't seem too concerned. What did concern Harvey, however, was the fact that Mike, who was now engaged in conversation with a smiling Thurgan, was now giving Harvey frantic 'Dear God, please rescue me' looks.
Harvey guessed that Thurgan had just persuaded Mike to replace Harvey as the passenger. Harvey shoved down the jealousy he felt inside, and chose instead to take some small amount of pleasure in just how uncomfortable Mike looked.
They passed by Harvey's position and Mike gave him a look of pure desperation, and mouthed the word 'HELP'. Harvey gave a cruel snicker to his associate and returned his attention to his phone. Jessica was yelling at him about something now and Harvey decided he should probably have been paying more attention.
Mike was visibly shaking in the passenger seat as he struggled to buckle his seat belt. Thurgan was grinning wickedly, and Harvey wondered why Mike was so panicked. He felt like it was something important, something he should know, but he just couldn't remember.
"Harvey!" Jessica yelled in his ear. Harvey winced and ignored the two men as they pulled out of the garage.
He decided it was now or never if he ever wanted to become more personally acquainted with Thurgan's Lamborghini. He answered Jessica's questions as he ran a hand along the smooth yellow paint. The car was definitely a thing of beauty.
Harvey decided that actually hopping inside was probably a step too far, so he restrained himself and just let his hand rest on the hood possessively. What he wouldn't give for this baby.
After a few minutes, Jessica had finally decided that Harvey was too distracted to fully appreciate the gravity of what she was saying. He didn't really hear what she'd said about that, but he did hear the part about how they could talk about this later.
He waited patiently for the men to come back, while he tried to figure out the cause of the funny feeling he was having. It nagged at him, settled in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly had a very bad feeling.
And of course, that's when he heard the purring of a 1950s Porsche racing car heading for the garage. It didn't pull in, but skidded to a stop in front of the opening. Harvey could see Mike quivering in the passenger seat, hands whitely clutching the seat belt.
And finally, he remembered Mike had mentioned something about being in a bad car wreck when he was a kid, that now he was afraid to go fast. Why hadn't Harvey remembered sooner? Why hadn't he stopped Thurgan?
Thurgan turned the key and yanked it from the ignition. He hopped out of the car and froze when he saw Harvey.
"What happened?" Harvey managed, voice tight with shock as he stared at his associate.
"I…he just…" Thurgan said, and Harvey figured it didn't matter at the moment. He had to help Mike. So he ignored Thurgan, who was still standing uselessly next to the car, and went to the passenger door.
Mike's eyes were staring dully out the windshield, and it took Harvey waving his hand in front of them to realize they were unfocused.
"Mike," he called softly, then again, rougher, when he got no response. His associate shifted a little, but Harvey doubted he'd really heard him. Wherever Mike was, it was far away.
Harvey unbuckled his seat belt and gently pried Mike's fingers from the strap. He shook the kid a little, hoping to rouse him, but there was still no response.
"Bring him inside. Maybe he needs to be away from the car," Thurgan suggested.
Harvey nodded at him and scooped up the boneless man. He followed Thurgan into the main living room and put Mike on the plushest of the plush couches. Mike had closed his eyes sometime in between, and Harvey hoped that it didn't indicate Mike's condition worsening.
"Want to explain to me just what the hell happened?" he said, turning to glare at Thurgan. Sure, the little voice that sounded too much like Jessica was nagging him to remember he was talking to a very important client, but Harvey didn't care.
Thurgan looked embarrassed. It was a very foreign look for him, Harvey decided. "I was just trying to get him to have fun. He was so nervous, I thought it was just because he was shy or something!"
Harvey stared at Thurgan for a good minute before finally speaking, attempting to reign in his emotions, those things which so rarely made an appearance. "What did you do?"
Thurgan shrugged. "We were going really slow, and I asked him if he hated cars. He said he didn't like it when they went fast."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened next. "So you thought it was a good idea to joke about that?" He let his fury out in a quiet calm that reflected as terror off Thurgan's handsome face.
"Look, I didn't realize that he would go all crazy. I was just having a bit of fun, Harvey," Thurgan defended.
"He's not crazy. It's called post traumatic stress Geoff," Harvey snapped back. He hadn't meant to let the information go, but he wasn't exactly in control anymore. He could see the surprise on the other man's face when he realized what Harvey had implied.
"I said I'm sorry, Harvey! What do you want me to do? I stopped as soon as I realized something was wrong and I brought him back safe and sound. See, he looks okay now!" Thurgan pointed nervously at Mike. Harvey hoped he'd prove his sincerity in the following days, or he'd have a lawsuit on his hands.
Harvey glanced at Mike as Thurgan stood there pointing at him. His associate was blinking at them and sitting up. Harvey resisted the urge to go to him and provide calm and reassuring gestures. It would have been inappropriate. Instead, he asked, "Mike, you alright?"
Mike nodded and straightened on the couch. He shook his head a bit and Harvey wondered if he was really okay.
"Mike, I'm really very sorry. I was just trying to have a bit of fun. I didn't mean for this to happen. Are you sure you're okay?" Thurgan looked desperately at Mike, and Harvey knew his concern wasn't faked.
Mike nodded at him and stood. Harvey gave him a frown; the kid was a bad liar. "I kind of just want to go home now," Mike said, and there was shame in his tone.
Harvey made it clear to Geoffrey Thurgan that their conversation was not over before guiding Mike out of the mansion and into his own vehicle.
Mike didn't say a word, just sat down in the passenger seat, head down and face pale. Harvey just wanted to get the kid home, but he knew if he didn't do it now, Mike would never talk about what had happened. So he didn't start the car, just sat there, waiting.
After a minute, Mike buckled on his seat belt, but Harvey still waited. He had to make Mike talk first.
"Why aren't we moving?" his voice was small, but sure. It just held confusion and nothing else. It baffled Harvey. Shouldn't he be scared?
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, allowing concern to enter his voice. There were times when it mattered enough to let it show, and this was one of them.
Harvey heard the usual line from Mike—the 'I'm fine' rolling off his tongue. But then he said it was different and Harvey had to know.
"You're driving," Mike explained, like that made perfect sense.
"So what, you feel safe with me and not Geoffrey Thurgan?" He quipped, hoping Mike would elaborate.
"This car has a roof. And reliable seat belts. And air bags." And there were the cold hard facts. Mike felt safe because the car was safe. It was familiar. Harvey could accept that. But then Mike continued, "And…you're driving."
"I'm driving." He repeated the phrase, hoping it would reveal its secrets. Mike trusted him; Mike felt safe with him. He could accept them as reasons, couldn't he? Even if he didn't understand, he'd accept them.
Harvey started the car, and he promised Mike he'd drive slowly. Their banter was refreshing. But under those words that only Mike could truly share with him, Harvey could feel it—he could feel the faith Mike had in him.
He drove as slow as he could, and finally allowed himself to admit that he wished he could have this forever.
Well, that's all. Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!