Disclaimer: I do not own Suits. Original Characters are mine. Yadda yadda. And all that other stuff.

Sunlight filtered in through Pearson-Hardman's glass windows, streaking across the floor like a golden light show. It also repeatedly flashed in Mike's face as he walked by every potted plant, closed door, or moderately tall person. He was going to talk to Harvey about their little divorce problem, to see if he could get the older man to listen. What Lillian had told him outside had struck him hard, and he was determined to help her if at all possible. Now all he had to do was get Harvey on board. As he strode toward his boss's office, he tried to ignore the fact that the Mission Impossible theme was playing in his head. Mike liked doing things that people believed were impossible…but he was kind of hoping that this wouldn't be one of those things.

Harvey was at his desk, staring intently at his laptop, when Mike walked in.

"Where were you just now?" Harvey asked, not looking up from the screen.

"Uh..." Mike looked around. Yes, because there would totally be magic ninja waiting there to take the blame. Sure. That happens all the time in Manhattan, after all. "Harvey, you know there has to be more to this—"

"And you should know that there's not more to how much I care about this case," the older man snapped back. "We have an actual, you know, real case to be working on. Or did you forget what real law looks like?"

"Harvey, this IS a real case," Mike protested. "Something isn't right and I'm going to figure out what it is." Stupid Mission Impossible theme. What a way to jinx everything!

"On your own time, maybe," Harvey told him, giving him was could only be construed as a dirty look. "This is only a 'real case' for those jackasses down in petty disputes. It's open, closed, done, now can we focus on the actual cases we have?"

"Really, Harvey? Come on! It's so obvious that—"

"That she's a manipulative crazy lady trying to get out of a document that she admits that she signed?" Harvey laughed and sat back for a moment. "You know, Mike, I realize that you don't actually know anything, but this one should be obvious even for you. She signed it! Is it a completely idiotic document? Yes, but that doesn't change the fact that she. Signed. It." He slapped his laptop closed and stood. "Now, I have actual, real, important lawyer-things to do. Are you going to go play with your toys, or are you going to do some real work?"

Mike's mouth hung slightly open. It stayed that way as Harvey strode by. Finally realizing that he boss was actually leaving the office and if he didn't say something he would have to chase after him, which was not only undignified, but would draw attention, he said "Well, even if you won't see it, I'll find it. Just give me a day, Harvey."

Harvey turned back for a moment. "Finish going through all the files on the Gearhartd—Langlie case," he said. Annoyance colored his voice. "All of them. I want each report on my desk before tomorrow morning." Mike blinked. Even for him, it would take at least two more days to get through all of those files.

"Now you're just being unreasonable," he said. Harvey scowled at him.

"Am I? I want your attention focused where I need it to be focused. Any guesses where that is?"

"Fine." Mike shouldered his messenger bag and met Harvey's gaze. "But when I get those files done, AND find whatever is going on with our un-important case, you owe me."

"Sure, maybe I'll hire you as a real lawyer someday." Harvey walked out the door with that, leaving Mike (for lack of a better term) sulking in his office. He walked out and stood by Donna's desk for a moment. She gave him a knowing look.

"What's wrong?" she asked him, watching Harvey stride down the hall away from them.

"Three guesses," he told her. He knew just as well as Harvey did that she listened to his private conversations. Which, really, meant they weren't exactly private anymore...but he didn't really care.

"I'll take Harvey is an asshole for 500," she said.

"Why is Harvey such a jerk? A, because he was Born That Way and secretly wants to wear a meat dress, B, that's just the way he is, or C, He's actually an alien mutant."

"B, definitely B," Donna responded. She shrugged. "Mike, you should know better than to expect warm fuzzies from Harvey. But for the record, I think you're right about the Hanovri case. Something is definitely wrong with that man." Mike gave her a smile.

"I'll find out what—as soon as I get through all of the other files for Harvey," he said with a sigh. No time like the present, he thought, and headed for the file room to start on them. Donna watched him go for a moment before she turned back to her own computer. Harvey was being slightly more dickish than usual. She'd have to ask him about that.

Walking back to his office, Harvey's thoughts were most certainly not on the divorce case. Until he saw Donna. With that look on her face. He groaned inwardly. She followed him inside.

"Stop looking at me like that," he told her as he headed for his chair.

"Why are you being such a jackass?"

"That's a pretty broad question, don't you think?" His lips quirked. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Come on, don't you think you're being just a little harsh with Alexander's case?" Harvey turned on his heel and looked at her. She blinked.

"What is it with everyone and this case?" he wondered out loud.

"Well, it IS kind of funny that the great and mighty Harvey Specter, best closer in New York, would be assigned..."

"Don't even say it," he muttered, dropping into his chair. As Donna opened her mouth to say it anyway, she quite literally saw the light bulb go on over that ridiculously handsome face of his. "THAT'S what it is!"

"...what?" She was extremely good at reading Harvey. Creepily so, in fact. That didn't mean he wasn't a confusing son of a bitch, though.

"You all are caught up in the story," he accused, drawing finger quotes around the word 'story.' "A romance of 5 years come to an end, with a millionaire and his blossoming wife fighting it out over who gets whose wealth—and who will win this epic battle?" he asked, his voice taking on an announcer's quality. Donna stared.
"Okay, never do that again, first of all," she told him. He smirked. "Second of all..." she paused. He was kind of right. Pearson-Hardman handled many cases that made appearances in the media, but this one had caught everyone's attention. "Okay, fine," she said, gracefully lowering herself into a chair so she could stare at him a little bit more. Announcer voice. Seriously? "You have a point—"

"Of course I do."

"—but it's a SMALL one and really, you have got to quit interrupting people like that before somebody smacks you with their purse," she told him. His eyebrows went up.

"I didn't picture you as a purse-wielding kind of woman, Donna." She grinned.

"Little do you know, Harvey Specter. Little do you know. But seriously now, Harvey...do you hate this case just because of what it is? Or is it something else?"

"I don't see why this is so hard for everyone to understand," he told her. Annoyance radiated off of him. Donna was pretty sure that if she could figure out a way to harness that, she could power a small town with it. Hmm. "Pearson Hardmen doesn't do cases like this. Alexander, prick that he is, pulled some strings and asked Jessica personally—and we shouldn't be making an exception at all for him, especially for something this trivial."

"Uhuh." Donna got up. "What if you're wrong about it?" He gave her what she had fondly named the 'eye of death,' and she grinned at him. "It has happened before. I was there."

"And you promised not to tell," he said.

"True," she replied. "But that does take all the fun out of it. Why are you such a fun sucker?" He pointed at his door.

"Get out," he said, and she complied, giving him a knowing look over her shoulder. He resisted the urge to rub at his temples. Was everyone obsessed with this ridiculous issue except him? And he was the one assigned to it. Hah! The sooner he got Lillian to sign the settlement, the sooner he could forget about this mess and pretend that everyone wasn't talking about it when they thought he wasn't looking. Sure, a small part of him felt a little bit of pity for the woman. She didn't appear to want any of Alexander's money, just to keep what she was on the edge of producing—but who knew what scam she would try to pull if they gave her more than the little Alexander had agreed to? Frankly, he didn't really care. It just needed to go away. A thought crossed his mind. Mike had asked for some time, and while he trusted his associate, he truly believed that there wasn't anything else to find concerning Alexander's pre-nup problem. It was just a silly young woman who had signed an equally silly document and was trying to call foul about it. Enough about it, already!

Louis came practically bounding into his office, interrupting his thoughts. Harvey looked at Donna's suspiciously empty desk. Great. Now she was punishing him. Or she was just getting him coffee—it was about that time—and Louis took the golden opportunity to avoid having to buy new icepacks for the zingers Donna never failed to land whenever he approached.

"So, I hear you're—"

"Get out," Harvey told him. Louis gave him a feigned confused look, spreading his hands placatingly.

"What's the matter, Harv? H-dawg?"

"No."

"I still don't see your problem with h-dawg," Louis muttered.

"Did you want something? Or are you trying to be the world's worst office ornament?" Harvey asked, opening his laptop.

"No, no, I just came to see how the mighty have fallen," Louis said with a smirk.

"Really? I don't see a mirror anywhere," Harvey said.

"I meant—that's not—we don't even handle divorce cases," Louis said, trying and failing horribly to come up with a better retort.

"I guess Jessica just likes me more than you."

Louis's eyes narrowed. "Yeah well, if liking you means doing petty claims cases like that, then I think I like my office better than yours," he said.

"Enjoy the moment," Harvey said, "I hear small spaces can be good for people with issues like yours. Sometimes, they even come with rubber walls!" Louis glared at him.

"Whatever," he said with a sniff. "Anyway, I have a favor to ask—"

"Get out, Louis," Harvey said, his eyes shifting to see something behind the reddening bald man. Donna's heels clicked on the floor and Louis practically bolted from the office.

"I'll ask later," he said, and Donna gave him a raised eyebrow as he sidled away. "I was just talking...to…never mind." He walked off in a huff and she suppressed a laugh as she put Harvey's coffee on his desk. She put the envelope in her hand down beside it without commenting.

"You shouldn't toy with him," she said. "He's fragile, you know."

"Uh-huh," Harvey said, eyeing the coffee. "Which is why you're so delicate with him."

"Of course," Donna said, grinning. "When am I ever not delicate?" Harvey just smiled and shook his head as she waltzed away. Best. Assistant. Ever.

Taking a sip of his coffee, he opened the envelope, which was simply addressed to "Mr. Specter." The photos that slid out onto his desk had his eyebrows hitting the ceiling. If they had been detachable, it was likely they never would have come down. Which would have totally ruined his image. You can't intimidate people with no eyebrows. It just doesn't work. First, he put the photos back in the envelope. Then, he picked up his phone.

"Alexander." Harvey's voice was easy, smooth...and filled with a silent threat. "This case would have been over much sooner if you had shown me these to begin with. Yes. Do not play games with me. I'm representing you on this as a favor to Jessica, make no mistake. Yeah, you do that." Hanging up the phone, he shook his head. He really, really, REALLY did not like that man. There was just something about him that made Harvey want to punch him in the face. Must be the aura-a-la-douche. Getting up, he pocketed the envelope and left his office. Sorry, Mike, he thought. But this is over now.

Lillian looked at her phone. Four missed phone calls from Captain McDouchebag. Great. She sighed and put the phone away. She was sitting on a park bench, with her purse on one side and a file in her hand. The settlement wasn't bad, if you considered the circumstances. On one hand, there was losing everything she owned. Literally. The rights to her stories, the priceless artwork a dear friend had painted for her before passing away, even her cat. Yeah. The bastard would take the cat. The cat didn't even like him! She figured that was just his way of dancing around singing "Haha, I own everything, and I will rule the world someday" like some kind of evil genius. Minus, you know, all the stuff that makes evil geniuses cool. She just wished she knew how the hell she had ended up here. The club...everything had been normal. But a big chunk of her memory was missing, and when she had woken up the next morning, Alex had been screaming at her, saying he had found her in bed with another man—who was nowhere in sight—and that he was going to take everything. Lillian swallowed hard, remembering. He had cursed her. At her. And the worst part?

"I don't love you anymore," he had said. His voice had been like ice. "Get out of my house."

His house.

The one they had bought together 4 years ago. She had liked it because of the details, like the little nook off of the living room that she had filled with books. Her own personal library. Or the way the windows were so delicately shaped. He had liked the size. And the cost. Alexander had always had an eye for the expensive. She had packed her things and left, showing up at Ruby's door at 7am, tears in her eyes and no good explanation as to what had happened. Ruby was her best friend. She was also a hooker, which meant she kept late hours and 7am was no time to be talking about anything. By the time they had both woken up and Ruby was ready to listen, Lillian hadn't had much to say. She couldn't remember most of the night, after all, and Ruby...hadn't exactly been helpful.

"So how many guys did you bang?" her friend joked, bumping her arm. Lillian knew she had bruises on her body, but she couldn't figure out where from. She had just stared back in response. Ruby was also, to put it bluntly, kind of an insensitive bitch. But she usually didn't mean it. It was just her nature.

"Ruby, I...I didn't sleep with anyone," she said. "I would never cheat on Alex. I love him. I'm happy with him!"

"You just had too much to drink," Ruby had retorted, laughing. "And you can't remember, so who's to say you didn't? It's not a bad thing! You go girl!"

Oh yeah, she felt like going, alright. Insane, that is. Was that an option? Could she plead insanity? Her lawyer wouldn't know. The little worm had quit. He had left apologies behind him like the trail of a slug as he had fled the apartment, explaining that she couldn't win the case and he couldn't afford to represent her against Harvey Specter with such a weak case. Lost in thought, she hardly noticed the file falling to the grass at her feet. It didn't matter anyway. Mike Ross hadn't shown his face with any life-saving news, despite the bit of hope he had given her the day before. Perhaps he had done that on purpose. She wasn't sure.

And it began to matter even less as she noticed the tall figure strolling toward her. She wondered if there was a surgery available to let you shoot lasers from your eyes, because it sure as hell would have been a pretty useful skill just then. If the arrogant son of a bitch felt the anger radiating off of her, he didn't show it. Did he ever show anything? As he stopped in front of her, he looked down at the file, which still lay on the ground. To her surprise, he picked it up, and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said through gritted teeth. Hmm. He was tall enough, and she was short enough, that it would be awfully easy just to punch him in the nuts... as if he sensed her thoughts, he distracted her by producing an envelope and putting it in her hands. If they were occupied, they couldn't exactly punch things, after all.

"Look, Lillian," he said. "Nobody wants this to be drug out any longer than it needs to be." Especially me! he thought. "Now...with those photos, my client is well within his rights to withdraw his settlement offer. However, in light of all the..." he paused. Sighed. "'Good times' he says you have spent together, he is willing to let the offer stand." He watched her face, hands in his pockets, as she slowly pulled the photos free of the envelope. Her fingers shook. The shock that flashed through her eyes was genuine.

She couldn't believe it. His words were bouncing off like little hailstones. She hardly felt them. The glossy prints didn't seem real. That couldn't be her body wrapped around that man. Could it? That man who was most certainly not Alex. There were several of them. Different angles. Tangled sheets. Her own long, shining black hair. The stranger's muscled back, and large hands. She thought of the bruises she had found. Some were not yet faded. When she looked up at Harvey, there were tears in her eyes, and he blinked. He knew how to read people. He prided himself on that. And what he saw on her face made him feel...bad. Dammit. He should have made Mike come do this. However, Harvey Specter was not weak, and so did not back down. He did, however, gentle his voice.

"Are you ready to sign the papers?" he asked her. She looked at the photos again. A tear escaped from her eye and splattered on the glossy stranger's shadowy face. Traitor, she thought as she looked at it. Crying in front of Harvey Specter had most definitely not been on her list of things to do today. To her surprise, a handkerchief found its way into her hand. Her mouth moved before her brain.

"Who the hell still carries a handkerchief?" she asked, looking up at him in shock. His mouth twitched.

"Cultured people," he supplied. She just shook her head and went to hand it back, noticing that the initials H.S were embroidered into it. Good lord. "Keep it," he told her. She gave him a dirty look and shoved the photos back into the envelope. The silk square went into her pocket. Lillian didn't notice she was gripping the file so hard that it was steadily growing a crease. Harvey didn't comment on it. He wasn't that stupid.

"Fine," she said quietly. He tried to ignore the pang of sympathy. Helplessness was one of those feelings that he knew, but refused to ever acknowledge. Ever. "Let's go," she said, and started walking, not waiting for him. Finally, after 3 days of bickering back and forth, this ridiculous lawsuit would be over. So why did he feel so damn bad about it?

Finding herself once again at the polished, long table, Lillian stared at the stack of papers in front of her. He was, oh so graciously, allowing her to keep one of the four paintings her best friend of 18 years had painted for her before dying of cancer. One. She was also allowed to keep the rights to her first book. The rest would be transferred into his name—her name would grace the covers, but she would not receive any of the profits from them. He was keeping the house, but allowing her to keep the car. He had several of his own, after all. Oh, and look...he was even graciously allowing her to keep the cat. How nice of him. He had claimed their liquid assets as well. The joint bank account? His. Cash in the coffee can? His. Secret ninja sock stash of quarters? Also his. He was giving her a hundred thousand dollars to go start a new life, however. She was underwhelmed by the generosity. Be grateful, she thought, reading through the document one last time. You could be walking away with nothing.

It was funny how "something" sure felt a lot like "nothing."

A/N: As promised, longer chapter. I really wanted to spend some time with each character, and definitely had to get some Louis in there! Hope you enjoy the read, and thank you all so much for the reviews thus far-they give me ridiculous happies. I hope you continue to enjoy. :)