Disclaimer: I do not own Suits. Drat. OCs are mine.


How long was too long, she wondered, to sit there and stare at the ceiling? Night had fallen, so Ruby was out doing...all of the fun things that hookers do at night. Lillian really didn't want to think about it. The cat, Rufus, was sitting on her stomach, purring like an obnoxious little motorboat. His weight was comforting. Usually she would push him off because for one thing, he was a big cat, and it was uncomfortable to have him sitting on her belly like that. For another, he tended to run in his sleep; which was why he was named Rufus. He had always been more dog than cat, anyway. She pet him as they laid there, counting the cracks in the ceiling. There were a lot of them. How long had Ruby lived here, anyway? She laughed at herself.

"I'm avoiding my own thoughts," she told Rufus. He purred louder. She just couldn't stop going back to that moment. There were several of these moments ingrained into her memory now, and today had added yet another to the list. Her hand hadn't even felt attached to her body. Yet she had watched the ink gracefully spell out her name at the bottom of the page, signing her life away. The look on Harvey Specter's face...her hand clenched. Rufus gave her a dirty look, and she let go apologetically. He went back to purring. He had just seemed so bored. Irritated, she was sure, that he was forced to handle the divorce to begin with. That much had been clear from the beginning. "Harvey Specter," she said aloud to the bare walls. "World's biggest asshole—right after Alex." the calico cat's ears twitched in agreement. Rufus had never liked Alex. She wondered how she had never seen the real man beneath all the charm.

Alex hadn't even deigned to be present when she had signed the settlement. Harvey's clipped voice had thanked her, before he took the papers away. She hoped to never see him again. Or maybe she did want to, if only to smack him upside the head for being such an uncaring—That's not really fair, she thought, her fingers tugging gently at Rufu's ears. Granted, Harvey was a jackass. But he was just Alexander's lawyer. It wasn't a personal vendetta. He was just doing his job. Rufus's tail brushed her hand. "Doing his job...like a jackass," she told the cat. He blinked his green eyes at her. Alexander was definitely at the top of the "Twatwaffling Douches I Want to Kill with a Dull Spoon" list. Harvey came second. She just couldn't let go how much it bothered her that he simply didn't care. Sure, logic easily trounced her by pointing out that—duh!—she wasn't his client, why the hell would he care? She figured it was akin to a complete stranger coming up to you on the street and saying "Hi, I hate you, you are stupid fat and ugly and you should die." Even though you don't know them and shouldn't really care what some random idiot has to say, the fact is...you do. Or at least she did. Ruby wouldn't have. Ruby would have laughed and danced away in heels too high for any regular person to walk on. Lillian just couldn't. She laughed at herself. 'Sensitive' is what other people would call it. She was just tired of being so weak. Rufus stretched his paws toward her face. She pet them idly.

What on earth was she going to do now? Her fingers traced circles in the calico fur as she thought. Lillian Elinor was not stupid—she was going to figure this out.

Later.

For now, she closed her eyes and refused to cry.


Harvey was twirling a pen in his hand, staring out at nothing. He was having an inner argument that anyone who knew him would have paid good money to listen to. After all, most people just assumed that Harvey Specter didn't even have feelings. Those who did know him knew this wasn't true, but he sure as hell didn't show them very often, either. So instead, he sat there spinning the poor helpless pen between his fingers, wondering why the hell he felt like he had kicked a puppy in the face. Repeatedly. He couldn't forget the way she had looked at him, with the hurt and shock in her eyes. And that was both annoying and concerning. Mostly annoying. As he had told Mike repeatedly...it was their job to win. He had won. The end. Except it wasn't. He wasn't any less annoyed by the time Mike walked in.

He looked at his associate, who held a stack of files in his hands. Mike proudly dropped them on his desk one by one. The younger man listed off each file as it fell, clearly happy with his work. Harvey's eyes narrowed.

"Good news," he said with a grin. "I'm awesome."

"Oh really? Do you have a diploma from the bullshit academy to go next to the one from Harvard?"

Mike gave him a dirty look. "No, but I do have a stack of finished files for you, in half the time it would have normally taken. I'm like the Flash. It counts!"

"How did you finish this so quickly?"

Mike had the decency to look guilty.

"I...may have asked Rachel to help me." Harvey just shook his head and looked at the stack.

"I thought you and Rachel..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Mike said quickly.

"Uhuh," Harvey said. That suited him fine for the moment. He didn't want to talk either. Not really. But Mike was still standing there, looking at him with a grin that quickly spread from ear to ear. "...Are you just going to stand there or are you going to tell me what the ridiculous look on your face is for?" Harvey asked, his voice mild. His associate dropped one last folder on his desk.

"Boom! Alexander," he said with a tone coated in satisfaction. "Is a lying son of a bitch."

Harvey just looked at him. His stomach felt...well, like he had just kicked that puppy in the head. Again. And then watched it roll down some stairs. And possibly into a cactus patch. God dammit. "And what led you to this conclusion?" Harvey asked. Hah! As if he'd let Mike know that he suddenly felt like Douchebag number One on the chart of Douchebaggery. He pulled the file toward him, refusing to show his reluctance. Opening it just made his stomach tighten further. His eyes narrowed. "Is this...?"
"Yep!" Mike's smile could have lit up the room. "He's broke! Completely, totally broke. His corporations are on the edge of collapse. They've kept it quiet so their stock doesn't drop, but if you notice, they've been selling bits and pieces for several years now, trying to cover losses. And this is just the preliminary—it was all I could find with the time frame."

Harvey was already putting the pieces together. "He needed Lillian's money," he said. Anger flashed over his face.

"Exactly," Mike said, dropping himself gracelessly into a chair. Harvey took a moment to look over the financial records Mike had found again. Well, that explained why the man had clung so tightly to everything that was written in the pre-nup. Any man who claimed to love a woman wouldn't have so readily ripped away everything she had like that. A desperate man who needed money, however…He had started hemorrhaging cash 4 years ago. The year after they married. That was interesting. He turned back in to Mike's voice, catching the tail end of whatever he had been saying.

"...so," Mike finished, "If Lillian didn't cheat, we can nail him for lying, and for damages, and—"

Harvey cut him off. "We could, if she hadn't actually done it."

Mike blinked. "What?" Harvey pulled the envelope with the damning evidence from beneath the pile of paperwork and tossed it to Mike. The younger man slumped when he looked inside. "Oh." Then he shot up straight again. "But don't you think the timing is pretty convenient? I mean, the man is on the brink of losing everything and then his wife suddenly cheats? When she hasn't ever cheated before? I bet you anything there's more on this guy, Harvey...just give me a little more time to find it, okay?" He hesitated a moment. The words went unsaid. He just wanted to help. Harvey wouldn't admit it, but he did, too. And Mike had a point—the timing WAS convenient, considering. He looked at the file quietly for a moment. Yeah. Married women were nothing but trouble.

"For one, this is the first time she was ever caught," he pointed out. "For another, it's a waste of time. Lillian signed the settlement papers this afternoon." He sat back in his chair and watched Mike's face go from surprise to outrage.

"Why did you let her do that?"

Harvey's eyebrows rose slightly. "Because it was my job. She screwed another man, Mike. You saw the photos. Alexander may be a prick, and the timing might be convenient, but the pre-nup still stands." Before Mike could launch into a protest, he continued. "I'll look into it. I need you to continue focusing on the Gearhart case." Which is what he should be doing, not looking into that asshole's background. Still...he didn't believe in coincidences. He also despised being lied to. If Alexander had hidden the fact that he was losing his money (and rapidly, at that) perhaps there was more he hadn't told the firm about. After all, the case was open-and-shut, right? Harvey cursed silently. Even if Lillian had cheated—no, she did, he reminded himself—if things had been orchestrated so that she would lose everything on purpose, well...he had a problem with that. However, it was a personal problem. Therefore, it had nothing to do with Pearson-Hardman. As far as the firm was concerned, he had done his job, and done it well. As always.

"Fine," Mike said, "I don't need your permission to work on it when we aren't in the office."

"If you want to waste your time, that's fine," Harvey told him, closing the file. "Just so long as you make sure the Gearhart case is airtight. Understood?" If he was going to be wasting his valuable time making sure he hadn't made a mistake by so readily closing Lillian, then Mike sure as hell could make sure their real cases weren't going to suffer for it. For a moment, he contemplated switching their roles. Mike could handle Lillian just as well, if not better (since she might not see Mike as a giant douchewagon) than he could. He held his tongue however as Mike got up.

"Do you even have a soul, Harvey?" Mike asked him. As the question left his mouth, he winced. He knew that his boss was capable of emotion. Sometimes. He was selective in where and how he showed it, though, which frustrated the hell out of the associate. His gut said that this case was wrong, and Harvey just didn't seem to care overmuch. The older man's expression was dark.

"No," he said, "Sold it to the devil years ago in exchange for enough patience to deal with you. I've told you before, Mike. This is the job. Sometimes, you just have to do your job. I said I would look into it. That not enough for you?" Mike was silent. He knew he had crossed the line, at least a little bit. The fact was that he did trust Harvey. If he said he was going to look into it, then he would. If there was something wrong, then he'd fix it. That would have to be good enough. After all, if they both decided to start rooting around in Alexander's life, someone might get suspicious. He sighed.

"Now, get out of my office." Harvey looked back at his computer screen, effectively dismissing his associate. He was more than a little irked, which did show. Mike headed for the door. He paused when he got there.

"Sorry, Harvey. That was out of line. This case just—"

"I know you well enough by now," Harvey growled. "Come on, Mike. You do pro-bono cases in your free time. You don't think I'd know how you feel about this one?" Mike saw lost puppies in every case it seemed. Sometimes that worked in their favor. And sometimes Harvey used it to win. Just not in the way Mike would have liked. The younger man held up his hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright," he said. "I'll make sure everything is set up and ready to go with the Gearhart case." As he exited the office, Harvey's dry voice followed him out.

"And let me know if you find anything else."

Mike grinned and walked away, not bothering to respond. He would, and Harvey knew it.

After his associate had left, however, Harvey poured himself a drink and stood in front of the windows, looking out at the city lights. His arrogance, though it was a huge part of him, was also a tool, and he often used it as such. But oh, how he hated feeling as if he had used it on the wrong person. He had managed to avoid this particular…sensation…for the majority of his career, but although Harvey was an amazing lawyer, he was still human, and sometimes… He sighed. It was partly Mike's fault, too—before he had come bouncing along into Harvey's life, he probably wouldn't have been near as annoyed by this. He went over the case again in his head. Had he done anything wrong? No. In fact, he had just done his job. Maybe a little too well. If he was nice to all of his opposing female clients, he would have to get a bigger stick to beat them off with. His behavior hadn't been much different with Lillian than it had been with any other poor woman (or man) who ended up on the wrong side of Harvey Specter. He needed more information. Then he would know how to proceed.

Tossing back the rest of his drink, he shrugged into his suit jacket and headed out the door. If his speculations were right—oh, who was he kidding, he knew they were—Lillian's friend Ruby was going to be standing on a street corner tonight, which left him a wide-open window to approach the divorcee. He waited for the elevator a moment and smirked to himself. At the very least, it promised an interesting close to his evening. With that, Harvey glanced one last time at the address in his phone and set off to see Lillian.


"Know what else goes with thought-avoidance?" she asked Rufus. He looked up at her from the floor and meowed. "No, you know I hate Pilates. The answer is..." she flung open the freezer. "Ice cream!" Ruby never failed to come through. Her brown-haired friend was selfish, yes, and fairly oblivious at times, but she always kept a stash of the S'mores ice cream that she knew Lillian went for when feeling upset. Of course, there was a warning attached to it.

If you eat all of this, you're going to get fat, it said, in Ruby's graceful handwriting. She rolled her eyes. But, the note continued, just in case...there are two more in the back. Love you, butterball! She smiled in spite of herself. "At least I can count on Ruby for the ice cream supply," she told Rufus. She hopped up on a stool at the counter and stuck a spoon in it. Her cat sat in front of her and stared up at the spoon, his face hopeful.

She shook her head at him and tried to enjoy her ice cream without thinking. Except that was near impossible at this point. Well, she had a plan! Sort of. Right? Rufus wound around the stool, bumping her foot with his head. She looked at him thoughtfully. She did have some money. The car was in her name, and paid off already. That had been the first thing she had done when she had finally landed a good job, working as a receptionist for Gearhart Industries & Abstergo, which was not far from their house. A frown crossed her face when she remembered it. Alexander had moped for days afterward and less than 6 months later she had quit at his request. He insisted that she was an excellent writer, and shouldn't waste her time on anything else. He had been right. How lucky for him.

Lillian was almost glad for the knock on the door. It would keep her from thinking. Unfortunately, not thinking was also not a good idea at 10:00 at night, in New York. Especially when one happens to be alone in an apartment. Lucky for her, it was not a would-be rapist, or someone trying to sell drugs. It was also not Superman. Or even Batman. Darn her luck. She almost would have preferred the rapist or the drug dealer. Those people she could punch. In the face—and not feel bad about it as a bonus. What she couldn't do was punch Harvey Specter.

The man stared at her. Lillian flushed, suddenly realizing what she was wearing. Her baggy plaid pajama pants, combined with the long, loose (not to mention partially see-through, thank god for the tank top she had on under it!) blue shirt, did not a put-together look make. Especially not with her dark hair half piled on top of her head, half falling down around her face. His eyes went to the ice cream, which was still in her hand, and then to the spoon, which was in the other. It was also loaded.

"Jesus," she said.

"I prefer to think of myself as—"

"Okay," she interrupted him, eyes narrowed. His eyebrows went up as she pointed her spoon at him. The dairy product was cold enough (for the moment) to still be sticking, but it would be melting soon. "Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn't ruin that nice suit of yours, and then maybe, just maybe, I'll put this in my mouth instead of on that suit. Looks expensive."

"It is," he told her, watching the spoon from the corner of his eye. "I need to talk to you about Alexander." Lillian laughed, and the sound was harsh.

"What the hell are you doing here, Harvey? I'm not your client. You did your job. Now fuck off." She stuck the spoon in her mouth purely to keep herself from sticking her tongue out at him, and went to shut the door. He put a hand on it, and she realized suddenly that he really was quite a bit larger than her, and if he didn't want her to shut the door, then there would be no shutting the door. Drat.

"I know that," he told her, "and I get why you're pissed—"

Lillian practically spit the spoon out as fury made her green eyes flash. "Oh, do you really? You dare come here and try to say that you understand? You are such a jackass, Mr. Specter. You have no idea how I feel right now."

"You seem to be dealing fairly well," he said, and his sharp brown eyes were focused on her face. She wondered if he could see through her to the wall behind her. She let the door swing open and slammed the ice cream down on the counter. Harvey stepped inside and shut the door, giving the apartment a quick once-over. Definitely a big change to what she was used to living in, he was sure.

"Oh really? And how the fuck do you know how I'm dealing?" she demanded. Both of her hands were on her hips, and a large calico cat poked its head out from behind her leg to give Harvey a dirty stare. Harvey made a vague gesture at her face.

"Your eyes aren't red. You haven't been crying." He pointed out, looking closer. She folded her arms and looked away.

"So what?"

"You aren't even in love with Alex anymore, are you?" his voice was smug. Lillian gave him her best version of an eat-shit-and-die look.

"Again, I ask you...why are you here? And why does it matter if I'm still in love with my ex-husband or not?" She stressed the words.

"It doesn't," Harvey said, "but at least we know why you cheated." She looked at the ice cream. Thought about throwing it at him. The visual made her feel slightly better. Ah yes, Harvey splattered with chocolate and marshmallows...scratch that, it made her feel a lot better.

"Okay, you know what...no. I'm not in love with him anymore," she said, her voice sharp. She had realized it herself not long ago. Oh, she was hurt, yes. Deeply. But not as much as she expected herself to be. She wasn't laying around the house, crying for hours, wishing to get him back and fix their marriage. Analyzing the last five years of her life had shown her that while the first year had been amazing, Alex had grown steadily distant from her the longer they spent together. She had explained it away at the time, hoping she was wrong...but she knew better now. Funny how much you can grow up in 3 days. "I was kidding myself. I was an idiot. I thought he loved me, and I didn't notice that we were growing apart. I guess that's why it was so easy for him to do this," she said. Her eyes met Harvey's again. Ugh, was that sympathy in his eyes? "Happy now? Morbid curiosity satisfied? Ready to get the hell out of this apartment? Regularly that would take five easy payments of 19.99 you know, but for you, it's free!" His lips twitched. "And, just for the record, I did not have an affair."

"Oh really? What do you usually call ending up in bed with another man? Pilates?" He didn't miss the way she flinched.

"What is with people and Pilates?" she questioned the air. There was no way in hell she was going to tell him that she just...didn't remember. He'd laugh. Probably do some kind of touchdown-lawyer-victory-dance. Nobody likes that.

"What have you got against Pilates?"

"Ugh! Why are you here?" she demanded again. "Did you come down here solely to be a jerk? Do you not have enough people to taunt at Pearson-Hardman? I know that's not the case. I've seen Louis."

He had to smile at that. Her question hung in the air. Oh, right. He had come here for a reason, after all, though his time was already well-spent if you considered the Louis-jab. "Look," he said, "You're right. I did do my job. But a few things have come to my attention, and I want to make sure we didn't miss anything that is going to come back and bite us in the ass."

"Right," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "Yeah, hang on, let me just find a lawyer to represent me while I dig up something to sue you with. Oh, wait...there is nothing. Can't sue you for being a dick, after all. Any lawyer in this city would jump at the chance to beat you, if they had a moth's chance in a forest fire. But there isn't. Okay? Your precious ass—" she looked down. "And those shoes, are safe." He just stared at her. He supposed it made sense to assume that he was making sure she had no plans to come after the firm for any reason. However, it was her ass he was wondering about, not his.

"Did you know that Alexander was losing money?"

"What?" Lillian stared at him. "Wait...what are you talking about? The man is loaded, always has been. Hence, you know, the pre-nup from hell." Her heart ached. Could that have been why he had stuck so closely to the agreement in the first place?

"So you didn't know."

"Of course not," she said softly. She sat down on the barstool and just stared at him. "So he really did need my money. Because he's got none." Harvey gave her a nod.

"It looks that way. You really didn't know?"

"No," Lillian said. "Where did it all go?" Harvey shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Oh, right," she said with a sigh. "You can't tell me because of the confidentiality thing."

"Actually," Harvey said. "We found this information outside of the case. So it's not privileged. I just have a hard time believing you didn't know about this."

"Alex handled the money," she said, "we had a joint bank account that he always added to, and I didn't have access to anything else, so..." She rubbed at her temples and wondered if she could bill Alex for all the headaches he gave her. She didn't notice the calculating look on Harvey's face.

"Do you know where he got the money he was adding?" he asked. There had been no sign of any influx of cash in Mike's report, and he doubted the kid would have missed something. So where had that money come from?

"No," Lillian said. "I assumed it was from his businesses, obviously." Dropping her hands, she stared at him. "Look, this is all well and good for understanding why he turned into such a douchenugget, but why are you here? Trying to make sure there isn't some weird elaborate scheme going on? The fact that that he's losing money doesn't matter. The photos say I cheated, so the pre-nup still stands," she said. He didn't miss how she had phrased that. Hmm. Why was she so adamant that she hadn't screwed another man, when all the evidence screamed that she had?

"It doesn't matter to the case," he said. But it mattered to him. No way in hell he was going to say that, though. So he chose a different phrasing. "If Alexander was losing money, and was desperate enough..." he tried to coax her toward the answer. And had to laugh to himself when he saw the light bulb go on.

"You're suggesting that he could have set me up," she said slowly.

"So, I need you to tell me honestly. Did you cheat on him?" She blinked, and he was a lot closer than she remembered him being a moment ago. Honesty. She was good at honesty. But uncertainty hung on her face. "Lillian." His voice was stern. "What happened?"

"I don't understand," she said slowly. "Why does it matter to you? You did your job, you won, isn't that all there is to it?"

"Not for me," he said. She tried to read his face, and was highly unsuccessful, much to her annoyance. "I don't like being on the wrong side of right."

"Ah," she said, and suddenly understood. That was interesting. "And what would you even do," she asked, "if I hadn't cheated?"

"Then I'd kick his ass," Harvey said. Oh, had he said that out loud? Whoops. "I don't like games," he said, giving her a hard look. "And I have no patience for liars. Now, if you'd like me to help you, you need to tell me the truth about whatever happened that night."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "Harvey Specter, my ex-husband's lawyer, trying to help me."

"No need to get hysterical," he muttered. Sometimes, trying to do the right thing was more of a patience test than anything else. He wasn't sure he would pass at this rate.

"I'm sorry," she said, and meant it. "But you have to appreciate the irony." He inclined his head. "And, despite the fact that I still think you're a giant ass—"

"Thank you," he interjected.

"—I appreciate the time you took coming down here to tell me about this. But I can't tell you about that night."

His gaze hardened. "And why not?"

Lillian shifted, uncomfortable. "Because I don't remember." The words just leapt from her lips. She braced herself for his laughter, for him to turn on his heel and walk out, probably in a cloud of sparkles and rainbows, knowing that there really, truly, wasn't anything more to this divorce.

None of that happened. Much to her surprise, he just stood there and looked at her. Many responses crossed his mind, and he said none of them. He believed her, much to his own surprise.

"How can you not remember?" He finally asked. She just shrugged and stared at the floor. She had asked herself that question so many times.

"I don't know," she whispered, and he suddenly saw past the fiery temper to something much, much more fragile. Harvey was not the hugging type.

So he stood there.

"I know it's hard to believe," he said, his voice dry. "But I do want to help you. If you were wronged here, then I want to fix it. I can't do that unless you talk to me." And he really, really, really wanted to stick it to that prick if this was the case. Lillian rubbed at her arms as she looked at him.

"Thanks. I'd tell you if I knew," she said. "Honestly."

"Then tell me what you do know," Harvey said. His eyes searched her face. She was holding back something, he just wasn't quite sure what. She gave him a slightly annoyed look, and he smirked. Good. He didn't like fragile-Lillian. That just brought out a whole range of emotions in him, none of which he particularly wanted to show anybody.

"You're a pushy sonuvabitch," she told him, but she went on. "I'm being honest with you here. I remember going to the club with him, I remember him letting go of my hand and vanishing, and then I had a drink, and then the next thing I know I'm waking up at home with my husband screaming at me." She ran a hand through her hair, dislodging the pile which had only perched precariously up there before. A single bobby pin escaped to the floor. He tried not to laugh as her hair tumbled around her face. Her expression was priceless as she gave that pin the most betrayed look you could imagine.

"You had a drink?" Harvey asked, running the scenario through his mind again.

"Yeah," she said, meeting his gaze again. "One!"

"What kind of lightweight are you?" he asked, his voice incredulous. She practically growled at him.

"Hey! I handle my liquor just fine, you patronizing little—"

"Okay, first of all," he said, cutting her off. "If anyone is going to be little in this conversation, that would be you. Have you seen how short you are?" She bristled.

"Have you heard? There's an anti-growth thing out for guys," she said, looking deliberately at his crotch. "One dose and they're half the size!"

He took a step back, just in case. Lillian grinned at him. "Problem?"

"You're losing focus," he told her, preferring not to answer. Of course there was a problem! Ball-kicking is always a problem. Always. No exceptions. Lillian shrugged.

"You're the one who had to insult my alcohol intake," she told him. Another, darker thought crossed his mind. He kept it to himself.

"Right." He debated for a moment. Based on what she had told him, she had given him plenty of reason to move forward in investigating Alexander's...dealings. She was right in that he couldn't get her the life she had back, but he could certainly find a way to stick it to that asshole. It would just take a little time. "What club were you at?" he asked offhandedly. She told him. He nodded.

"Heard enough?" Lillian asked him as he turned toward the door. Harvey looked back at her. He wondered if she knew how attractive she was with her hair tumbling down her shoulders like that. His memory had been correct after all—she did have a nice body. Even if it was currently clad in pajamas that were way too big for her. What was she, anyway? 5'4? Jesus.

"Yes," he said. "Thank you. For what it's worth..." he hesitated. "...I'm sorry." She laughed, and he narrowed his eyes at her. Didn't she know? Harvey apologies were worth their weight in gold! And possibly diamonds. And other sparkly things.

"Oh, Harvey, don't bother. You just did your job. I already knew you were a jackass," she said. Her chest tightened as he smiled. That man was nothing if not attractive. Make that extremely attractive. "So...are we done?" she asked him as he turned the handle. She almost hoped he'd say no.

As he stood there, looking at a recently divorced woman that he had wanted nothing to do with less than 3 days ago, he felt his mouth move. Hey, who authorized that?!

"Have dinner with me," he said. God dammit. Her eyebrows rose. He waited, cursing inwardly, perfectly normal outwardly. What was he doing? Going anywhere with her was not a good idea. Especially since she had cheated on her husband. And yet, he stood there. Waiting. His mini-panic attack subsided then, as he realized that he could turn this slip-of-the-tongue to his advantage.

"Dinner." She repeated, stunned. "With you."

"Got someone else in mind?" He asked her. She just stared at him in shock. Harvey had just asked her to dinner. What (the actual fuck) was going on?

"You never showed any kind of interest in me before," she said cautiously. "Especially not like...that."

"I don't do married women."

His response was quick, and sharp.

"Um, well you won't be 'doing' me, either," she said, giving him a dirty look.

"It would be slightly difficult to 'do you' at dinner," he said, "but, you know, if you're into that kind of thing..." She laughed. It surprised both of them. Getting up, she opened the door for him and he stepped out onto the dirty stairs. Her fingers grazed his arm, and he looked at her.

"Thank you for coming," she said, quickly drawing her hand back. "I appreciate the, um...information." He nodded and stepped back.

"So, is that a yes or no?" he asked, a smile playing around his eyes. She grinned at him.

"My ice cream is melted because of you," she informed him. "You owe me way more than dinner." His eyebrows went up.

"Oh really? And what would that be?"

"I'll let you figure it out," Lillian told him, and with a smirk on her face, she shut the door in his.


A/N: Cue even LONGER chapter! I just couldn't bear to cut this one down. Plus, you guys have been so great that you deserve it. Yay! Quick shout-out to my wonderful editors...Shiny and Jmirackles 3 They both have read through all my work thus far and they are so sweet to do so! Thank you guys, I would be too chicken to post without you. Still clinging to canon as much as possible! Already started on Chapter 5...mwahaha! Thank you for reading! I appreciate all of you.