Harvey Specter was not pleased, that much was certain. The reason for this was the 20-something kid seated on the other side of his desk, idly observing a signed baseball he'd managed to snatch from one of the stands on his mentor's ecritoire, a deep frown – or rather, a pout plastered on his face. Whereas his boss was down-right angry, Mike was... sulking. He was one hundred percent sure he hadn't done anything wrong, and he sure as hell wasn't going to take the fall for any of this.
Only one day had Harvey been away for helping Scottie move in. One goddamn day, and Mike hadn't been able to just win a stupid court case.
Harvey just glared at him, eyes squinted. If the boy wasn't gonna start talking by himself, he'd have to help him along.
"Well?" He started.
Silence. The baseball twirling.
"Mike, I swear to God, you have two minutes to spill the beans before I –"
"It wasn't my fault!" Came the young lawyer's sudden response. "Okay? If you'd actually listen to me every once in a while you would've known those assholes were up to something, not to mention they were way out of my league, and instead of helping me out, you're expecting me to come beg for your forgiveness when I make one little mistake?''
The eye-contact Mike had made with the older man during his rant remained while the room turned eerily silent. Harvey stood up from his chair and walked around his desk towards his associate, whose glance revealed that he grew less and less sure of whether or not what he'd just said had been a good idea with every step his boss took towards him. And when Harvey came to a halt right next to the boy, towering over him like a skyscraper, the poor thing went right back to fiddling with the ball in his hands. Harvey could tell the kid was trying not to piss his pants by the way he stared intently at the white, round object. Anything would've done to avoid his boss' gaze. But Harvey, being Harvey, wouldn't have any of it.
"You really do think you're all that, don't you, kid? Let me get this clear once and for all. I'm not here to help you out. You are here to help me out. Or did you forget who actually gave you this opportunity in the first place? Now, since you're obviously either unwilling or unable to follow orders, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. You. Are. Replaceable. You're living any law graduate's wet dream and you won't stop whining about it. If you honestly think I can't find someone more motivated and more qualified" – that stung – "for the job, you're greatly mistaken. And that's just what I will do, if you ever speak to me like that again. Do I make myself clear?"
Once again, the room was completely silent. After a short while, a very, very quiet "Yes, sir," could be heard, accompanied by a pathetic little nod.
"Good," answered the senior partner as he roughly grabbed his baseball out of Mike's hands. "Now get the fuck out of my office and into your cubicle while I go clean up your mess before I change my mind and fire you on the spot."
Harvey didn't have to say that twice; his associate was already at the door before he'd even finished his sentence, making sure his face was turned away from the man who'd just scolded him. While Mike darted out of the office, he could vaguely see the concerned face of a familiar redhead looking in his direction. He didn't care: the only thing he cared about was getting out of there as soon as possible. And as much as he tried to deny it, he cared about Harvey's opinion of him too, and more than just a bit. The tears that were welling his eyes, on the verge of breaking out, were the indisputable evidence of that fact. And that's what scared him the most. He was a grown man, damnit, and a lawyer, not to mention! Since when did lawyers worry, let alone cry about having an argument? About being judged? And while Mike made his way through the labyrinth of pigeonholes, a thought occured to him. Maybe Harvey was right. Maybe he didn't deserve all of this. Maybe... maybe he really was a complete and utter failure.
"Hey, quick question," Donna Pearson began while she went to stand in the doorway of her boss' office. She was smiling, although she did look somewhat puzzled.
"Be my guest," came Harvey's answer.
"Is your sole purpose in life to be a dick to that kid?" Donna's smile was gone. Her brown-haired employer sighed deeply.
"He had it coming, Donna. The boy needs to know who's in charge. Besides, he totally messed up that – "
"I know what he messed up, Harvey," the executive secretary retorted, "and you're overreacting. He's right, you know, it wasn't entirely his fault. If you'd just give him some advice every once in a while... I mean, you are his mentor, after all."
"Exactly. I'm his mentor. Not his mother. If he gets careless and screws things up, I'm not gonna pat him on the shoulder and hand him a 'better luck next time'. I pay him to do his job, Donna. This is the real world. He's a big boy, he can handle some critique."
"Can he?" The redhead wondered, cocking a brow.
"What do you mean?"
Donna, for the first time in their conversation actually entering the room instead of standing in the doorway, walked up close to her old friend, who was located next to his desk, leaning over a surprisingly unorganized pile of papers. She looked at him quizzically. "Did you seriously not notice, Harvey? The kid's devastated."
Now it was Harvey's turn to be confused. In his mind, Mike was just pissed off, being the unreasonable brat he always was. The closer tried to hold in a snort, he really did, but he couldn't help it. "What, did I hurt his feelings?" He questioned. Sometimes Donna wondered if the guy breathed sarcasm. Then again, who was she to judge?
"Harvey, I'm serious. He looked like he'd just heard his grandma died when he came out of your office. Now, I don't know what's going on with him – or with you, for that matter. But you'd better fix it." With that, she turned and started walking out, and when she noticed her boss was just frowning after her without moving, she added a sharp "Now, Harvey!" without even bothering to turn her head to see his reaction.
The man didn't dare argue with his secretary when she was like this, and started making his way over to Mike's box. While he left his office and walked by Donna's desk, the know-it-all spoke again: "He's in the men's room."
"How did you know he - " Harvey stopped himself, rolling his eyes over his own stupidity as he already knew the answer to any question he could've possibly posed right there. Nonetheless, he got a devious smirk out of the woman.
"Right. You're Donna."
As Harvey headed towards the Men's room, he mentally prepared for their talk. He definitely was not going to apologize, nor would he back down but he did need to find out what Donna was talking about. So, the ground rules would be: no sarcasm, no shouting and no excuses. That shouldn't be too hard. The dark room was dimly lit by only two lights which sometimes made it difficult to aim while peeing. Mike was definitely not peeing, he was sitting in one of the stalls, Harvey could tell because it was the only one locked.
''Donna says there's something wrong with you.'' Harvey started.
''A lot of people say that about you.'' Mike's answer came from behind the door.
''No, I… '',he sighed, '' I meant that you have something on your mind. Do you?''
Harvey heard his feet shift and some rustling sounds.
''That case I lost, the one you just got so angry over?''
The buzzing of the light on the background was annoying the lawyer but he focused on Mike's voice.
''The plaintiff's attorney was Rachel's ex-boyfriend. The one she almost married, the one she was engaged to.''
