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*Virtual nutella* as promised :)

DeleaMarie - Loved your review! Here's some of that *virtual good old fashioned peanut butter!*

Sorry for the slow updates, finals week is killing me. Plus, the Suits Muse demands extra re-run hours devoted to the great show, since there aren't any new episodes until this summer! Gah.

Anyways, hope you like this chappie. Once again, I do not own Suits (there would never be any hiatuses, just hours and hours of law-filled goodness), and as I am still searching for a beta, grammar mistakes are a great possibility.

Mike wheeled his bike over to the marble entrance that led to the Harvard classrooms and cursed as he padlocked it to one of the many bike racks outside.

He was late.

Normally, this wouldn't bother him, but Mike needed his student loans to help pay for his grandmother's hospital bills, and the department head, Jessica Pearson, had warned him.

One more act of misbehavior and his student loan was getting cut.

Mike gritted his teeth in frustration as he tugged the hood of his sweater off and entered the chilly interior of the building.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

A crisp, clear and at the moment supremely pissed voice called out to him and Mike turned, sneakers squeaking on the smooth marble tiles.

A tall, slim redhead was sitting nonchalantly on her swivel chair, behind a large, mahogany desk. One slender, red eyebrow was raised skeptically as the secretary took in Mike's disheveled appearance.

"Uh – class - "

"Nope!" The woman negated breezily, flapping a blue slip of paper in Mike's direction.

Mike made no attempt to receive it. He knew what it was, he had gotten them many countless times before.

"C'mon, Donna, please - "

"You know the rules, Mike, all tardy students have to get a pass and file their names down," Donna sniffed in her "authoritative voice", before slapping the paper down on the edge of her desk and turning back to her computer.

Mike sighed, and shuffled over to Donna's desk. He took his time rifling through his backpack, making a show of looking for his pen. If he was going to be late either way, might as well have some fun with it.

Donna watched Mike curiously, as one might do to a puppy that had misplaced his bone.

Finally, a good five minutes later, Mike had signed the slip and was on his way, meandering down the Harvard halls in search of 17A.

When he found the correct door, Mike sighed. Professor Spector's voice resonated through the door's panels and Mike recognized the frustration in his teacher's tones.

He's probably questioning Harold, Mike thought to himself. He still wasn't sure why his peer had decided to take up law. The kid couldn't hold up an argument to save himself. Mike grasped the doorknob, resigned to a morning full of pissed off teachers and inept classmates, and opened the door.

"Did you people even do the reading from last night?" Professor Spector was waving a BarBri Handbook around his head and fuming. He stopped his rant when he noticed Mike trying to sneak casually into the back row.

"Ross!"

Mike froze.

"Tell me you have a good explanation for why you're fifteen minutes late."

Mike turned to face his teacher, mustering up something witty from the crevices of his mind and coming up blank.

"Thought so," Harvey says in response to the silence, disapproval etched across his tanned face. "Now tell me why I shouldn't just send you out the door right now, for good."

The blood in Mike's veins freezes to something terrible. He didn't know what he wanted to do, nor who he wanted to be when he came to Harvard – all Mike knew was that the name Harvard was synonymous for opportunity, something Mike sought out more frantically than a hungry mouse looking for cheese.

And he didn't know that he wanted to pursue law, only that it was something he began to love dearly, and hell if he was going to let fifteen minutes take that away from him.

And so Mike did the only thing he could think of at the moment. Use his memory and hope to the high heavens that it got him out of this.

"Because I did the reading, and understood it better than anyone else here. That's a BarBri Legal Handbook right there, right? Open it up. Read me something. Anything."

Harvey stared at him, skeptical, but then flipped the book to a random page.

"Civil liability associated with agency is based on several factors, including - "

"Including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable inference of agency on behalf of the plaintiff, and the nature of the damages themselves," Mike rattled off, barely skimming the underside of the things he had learned from the book.

Harvey stared at him again, but this time it was shock in his eyes.

"You couldn't have known that," he said, slightly accusatory, mostly in disbelief.

Kyle was giving Mike a death glare, but Trevor turned around in his seat and gave him a thumbs up, grinning wildly.

Of course, Mike thought, feeling almost bitter. This would all be a game to Trevor, wouldn't it. He wanted to shake his head to his ridiculous best friend, but felt Harvey's eyes still weighing his every action.

Harold, who was still standing in the ramrod position he had taken under Harvey's lecture, just looked numb, and when Mike caught his eye the boy mouthed a small, "thank you."

Mike looked at Harvey again, trying to dim the defiance in his expression because that wouldn't help his case…but Harvey couldn't kick him out now, not after Mike proved his capability…could he?

Harvey looked like he wanted to press the matter further, but then set the handbook down and crossed his arms over his well-pressed suit.

"Alright, Ross, take a seat…"

Relief flooded through Mike and he sat down, pulling his messenger bag from over his shoulder and onto his desk.

"…but see me after class."

Damn.

Author's Note:
The underlined portions are dialogue taken from the first episode of Suits (Pilot Episode). I couldn't think of anything that would capture Mike's inner genius better than what the show had given, so I had to borrow some. So, all credits go to the show for those portions!

In addition, I am not a Harvard student and thus have no first hand experience of the university's inner quirks. Most likely there are no secretaries demanding people to fill out slips for being late, and the professors probably don't give a crap about it either, but for the sake of AU fics I had to tweak around a bit and use generous amounts of imagination. I hope the inaccuracies are not bothersome - if there are any details you would like me to fix, please let me know!

Alright, long AN is long. Reviews are love! :)