Hi guys :D So how awesome was the last episode? (SPOILERS!) I squee'd when Harvey defended Mike, and when he went to pay off the security guard and Mike was just staring at him with hero worship all the way :3 So I wanted to write a particularly epic bromantic chapter ;) I was a bit wary, as it seemed repetitive - drunk!Mike and high!Mike relate to the same thing, but I'm sure you'll like it just as much :D


It had been a long week. Or was it two? Mike wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was going to get really drunk tonight. Like, wake-up-in-a-back-alley-wearing-someone-else's-clothes, drunk. It wasn't as if the pressure of his job was finally getting to him, or that he was celebrating. He just needed to get away from work for a bit. After the 'Broken Cannister Debacle of 2011' he needed to get away from the shooting looks of sympathy that occasionally got thrown his way by receptionists or some of the associates. Even Jessica. And from Louis' smug face. He'd now forgotten his worries about Mike's personal body guard.

After about 2 days Louis had gone to Mike's desk and asked extremely politely if Mike wouldn't mind filling out some forms that Louis hadn't had the chance to complete. After a wary glance around he had left. And after a week he decided that Harvey had put his protectiveness back on the shelf, and so he was back to his old self. But Mike was finding it harder to cope with both Louis' and Harvey's orders, and while he managed to do all the work, he had missed an opportunity to see his grandmother.

He had called her, explained the situation, and she had been very understanding.

"I'm proud of you, Michael."

A lump had risen in Mike's throat as she said that, and he hastily said goodbye. He had told her he'd visit another day.

When he got there this morning, he had been told she'd suffered a stroke at around the same time he was supposed to have been there. If he'd been there, he could've done something. Called for a nurse faster than his grammy had pulled the emergency cord. As far as he knew, she was recovering. It had been a very minor stroke, but he knew that for a woman in her condition, it caused a lot of damage.

So now he was sat in a bar somewhere, clutching his 6th bottle hazily and checking his phone in case there were any new calls or messages from the care home.


Mac had worked in this bar for about 20 years. He was used to all sorts; guys who just found out their wife was having an affair, guys who were caught having an affair, people with money troubles, people who just wanted to forget everything for a night...

He wondered what the kid in front of him was thinking. He glanced at his customer. At first he had asked for ID; as surprised as he was to find out that not only was the guy over 21 but worked at a law firm (He had accidently given Mac his work card), Mac had just kept pouring the drinks, forgetting to ask if he had any car keys. Looking back and seeing... Mike, was it? Mike swaying gently, he thought he'd best get the keys now.

"Hey, pal?" Mike looked up to see Mac in front of him, wiping a cup down. "I think you should give me your keys."

"What?" Mike asked. "You're not gettin' into my apartment... no offence, man - but I don't even know you..."

"Car keys, genius," the Mac clarified, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I've just got a bike," Mike told him. "'S a good one - Harvey bought me him; I call him 'Dex', and tha's short for 'Dexter', cause he seems like a really smart bike..."

Mac wasn't in the habit of asking 'How much have you had?' in an exasperated voice, but he was now struggling to recall how much he'd served the kid. He'd had quite a few bottles of beer, and then he'd bought about ten shots. The kid was an average drinker, he noticed; not a lightweight but not exactly up there with the serious drinkers he had sat further down the bar, talking morosely over their whisky.

The kid just wouldn't shut up. Of course he'd had the odd customers who wanted to tell their friendly neighbourhood barman everything wrong with their lives, but Mike wasn't even doing that. He was just talking. Something with numbers. He was listing numbers.

Mac wasn't stupid, he knew a thing or two, and he also knew that the string of numbers his customer was reciting was some sort of numerical formula. His eldest son was doing a maths degree at college. But this kid... he was just reciting things that made Mac's head spin. And then he moved onto Law terms.

"I think you've had enough," Mac told him. Listening to the kid's babble he had just nodded and served when he asked for more drinks. But he prided himself on being a decent person, and whilst the kid could probably still handle a few more drinks before he passed out, Mac didn't want to let that happen.

"Wha'?" Mike slurred. "No - I got money!" He pulled out his wallet and showed it to Mac for inspection. Mac snorted - he knew that the kid had next to nothing left; that last drink was all he could afford. "'N c'mon, man - I need more alcohol; if it wasn't for me, my grandmother wouldn't be as sick as she is now..."

"That so?" Mac asked casually, serving another patron a drink.

"I mean, if I'd turned up yesterday like I was s'posed to, y'know? Then maybe... Maybe..." he tailed off, in a world of his own. Or so Mac thought. "Ooh - hey, I jus' got a text!" Mac nodded as he eyed the kid warily. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been thrown up on by a customer, but he didn't want that to happen tonight. Although maybe the kid would just pass out before that, Mac hoped, noting the ever-present swaying.

"Hey, it's from Harvey!" Mike said happily, holding up his phone so Mac could see it. "He bought me a bike, d'you know that? He can say what he likes, he cares..." Mike frowned as he apparently had to stop the phone from moving around so much to read the text. "Uh... what's this say?" He asked Mac, pushing the phone in his face.

Usually Mac would just ignore customers who were too drunk, but he liked this kid, and was slightly amused by him. He held the phone in front of him and read:

Mike, the files you gave me were the wrong ones - I need Chapham V Jones; LOUIS needs Gunter V Hallworth. Get your head in the game.

This was the amazing Harvey he'd heard so much about? The one who bought the kid a bike, and punched a guy for him, and looked after him when he was sick? Mike scowled and stood up shakily. "Let me text back," he demanded.

A few minutes went by and Mac saw Mike's phone vibrate. Mike gazed at the bartender who rolled his eyes and read it.

What are you talking about? If I find out Louis has slipped you something there'll be hell to pay. Get back here and sort out your mistake.

Mike frowned but texted something back, slamming his phone down on the bar. When Mac's back was turned a girl who apparently thought that Mike was cute invited him to do shots with her. When Mac had turned from serving someone else, the girl was stumbling away to the toilets, presumably because she'd drank them too fast, and Mike was now reeling from the alcohol. "Hey, man I got another, 'nother text..."

Are you alright? If you've gone insane and that's why you've suddenly lost the ability to spell then that's going to look very bad on me.

Mac thought he could sense a hint of caring there, he supposed... Before he knew it, Mike was thrusting the phone back to him.

For god's sakes, if this is some sort of prank I'm going to let Donna deal with you. Where are you?

Mike presumably texted something akin to 'bar' or 'drunk' as Harvey seemed to understand.

I'll only ask you this once - do you need me to come get you?

Mac felt relieved. This was the Harvey that the kid had been talking about. Mike shoved the phone at him one more time before swaying sideways a bit too much and falling on the floor.

I'll be there in five minutes.

After skimming through some of the texts, he felt it necessary to text Harvey again and tell him the correct adress.


"Harvey!" Mike pulled himself off the bar where Mac had made him perch in order to keep him upright. He had been looking particularly morose ever since he had sent that last text. "H'vey," Mike mumbled in a desperate manner, "we need t' go..."

Harvey quirked an eyebrow and looked over at the bartender, who shook his head and held his hands out. "Hey, I'm legally allowed to sell him alcohol. I stopped serving after I saw he'd had too much."

"The only place you need to go is home," Harvey told Mike sternly, pulling him up by the elbow as he started to sink to the floor again.

"No - m' grandmother," Mike whined, trying to pull out of Harvey's grip.

"Mike it's half two. I think she'll be asleep," Harvey told him, looking at the bartender. "How much has he had?"

"Too much," was all he got in reply.

"Fantastic," Harvey muttered.

"Harvey," Mike was pulling at him desperately. "Harvey we gotta go - what 'f she's dead?"

"Dead?"

"She's not well, H'vey..." Mike whimpered, looking up at Harvey with bright eyes. "She's getting sicker; and I couldn't even see her today... What if..."

Harvey felt awful. He knew that he was partly the reason Mike hadn't been able to see his grandmother. "I'll call the nursing home, kid," Harvey soothed - hell, he'd done it before. "I'll see how she is."

Mike gazed up at him with a somewhat adoring gaze before beaming and turning to Mac. "I told you how awesome he is!"

Harvey rolled his eyes. "Come on, Mike," with that he turned and pulled Mike towards the exit. Mac watched them go and smiled.

He wasn't worried seeing the kid stumble away.

He was with Harvey.


"You know it's a school night," Harvey said, mildly disapproving.

"Yeah, but I needed alcohol - I love it; Harvey, les' go to a bar!" Mike grinned at him.

"Just take us home, Ray," Harvey called up front, as the car started moving. Mike pouted and slid down in the seat. Harvey couldn't help but snicker slightly. Mike was wasted. But after Harvey's assurance that he would call the nursing home, he had perked up considerably and Harvey was uncomfortably reminded of the 'Broken Cannister Debacle of 2011' as Mike tittered happily and babbled to Harvey about everything and nothing. He was also a very clingy drunk, Harvey found out. However much he tried to push the kid off, he would find him clinging again.

He was pressed up against Harvey, and whether he was feeling very dizzy and needed steadying or just wanted some basic human contact after his grandmother's health scare, Harvey wasn't sure. But right now Mike sittign as close as he could, and he was clutching onto Harvey's suit with one hand. Harvey surprised himself by letting him.


"Okay, I think it's bedtime for associates now," Harvey said sternly, wincing as he found he sounded strangely like his father. Mike didn't seem to mind.

"You're coming too, right?" He asked, stumbling over to the bed. Harvey had made him drink at least two large glasses of water and it didn't seem to have made much difference. Mike sat on the bed and looked up at Harvey. "You're sleeping too, right?"

"In my bed, yeah," Harvey told him. "On my own," he saw Mike wilt slightly and felt bad. It wasn't as if the kid was a flirty drunk and trying to get with him; not that he ever thought Mike would anyway - they were both too straight to be gay drunks. Mike just wanted company. It was like that scene in Disney's Lady and the Tramp (Not that Harvey would ever admit to remembering scenes from Disney movies) and the first day the puppy is home it whines until it's taken upstairs to be with company.

Harvey shook his head. He should probably get some sleep now. "How good a lawy'r d'you think I am?" Mike asked, as Harvey forcefully removed him from the bed and put him on the couch with a bucket next to him - he couldn't be too cautious what with how much his rug cost.

"I hired you - anyone hired by me and working around me will become a good lawyer," Harvey gave a diplomatic answer. Sure, Mike had good instincts, a head for facts and numbers; he just needed experience to become a good lawyer.

"I mean it when I say I like working with you," Mike slurred, grabbing at Harvey's wrist so that he had no choice but to stay. "And if I can be as good as you - that'd be awesome."

"Go to sleep, Mike," Harvey told him.

"But I'm not tired!" He whined, drawing out the last word.

"Nice try," Harvey scoffed, pulling his wrist out of Mike's hand. "Go to sleep."

"M' grandmother..." Mike whispered as he lay down, turning over to hug the pillow.

"She'll be fine," Harvey said in a hushed voice. He hadn't rung the nursing home but since they hadn't rung Mike, he was assuming she was fine.

"Promise?" Mike whispered, closing his eyes tightly to stop the room spinning.

"Sure, kid, I promise," Harvey said softly.


He woke up the next morning to find an eerily quiet apartment. He remembered having to pick Mike up from that godawful bar in the early hours of the morning, so he knew he should at least be faced with something - Mike with his head in the toilet, rummaging around for some aspirin - something. Instead he turned over to find a post-it stuck to the pillow beside him.

Harvey! You said you weren't getting any more post-its... you lied! But don't worry, I still love you anyways... Not that I love you - but I like you more than I like Louis. And I don't like Louis.

Harvey looked around to see at least two dozen more notes around his room, and closed his eyes as he saw there were yellow post-its up everywhere. He wanted to get Mike to pick them all up, but one look at the kid and he changed his mind. Sure, it was Mike's fault that he currently lay on his boss' couch, pale and clutching a bucket in his hands. He also saw that Mike was still holding the pen he had used to write these.

Harvey had thought he heard movement in the night but he had been too tired to care, and assumed Mike was simply getting comfortable. Apparently he'd not stayed asleep and gone around with the post-its he'd found like an excited child. Harvey moved all over his condo, picking them up. From the few he could actually read, Mike had clearly been out of it.

Louis looked awesome after you punched him - you punched him! I wasn't there, but it was great!

You know what your house needs? A dog. You're always talking about puppies - you should get one! Then I could come round and play with it, I've always wanted a dog :D

Can I house-sit?

Can I borrow a trampoline at some point? After you've bought one?

Harvey, why don't you have any alcohol? I tried a cupboard but it was locked - what do you keep in there?

Harvey opened his fridge to find post-its everywhere. Whatever he looked at there was a note saying "Eat me!" or "Drink me!" and on his tv, the words "Play me!" were written in large, scrawled capitals.

"You need help, you know that right?" Harvey looked down at Mike, who was apparently woken by Harvey's words.

As soon as he sat up he turned green and rushed to the bathroom.


Mike's instructions had been, "Sit there and stay. I'm having a shower. When I'm ready we're going into work."

He had nodded and put his head in his hands as he heard Harvey's shower starting. He had been taken to Harvey's home by Harvey himself, drunk out of his mind and worried for his grandmother. He had checked with the nursing home earlier, when he could talk without vomiting. She was steadily improving.

Harvey's phone went off, making Mike jump slightly. He was clearly receiving a text, and it kept going off. Mike decided it would be in his headache's best interests to stop the noise. He grabbed Harvey's phone and pressed the 'silent' button, not bothering to see who the text was from. Lower down, however, he saw his name. Raising an eyebrow he opened it and paled.

Mike, the files you gave me were the wrong ones - I need Chapham V Jones; LOUIS needs Gunter V Hallworth. Get your head in the game.

Harvey it asll good in goin to sortt iY :)

What are you talking about? If I find out Louis has slipped you something there'll be hell to pay. Get back here and sort out your mistake.

It's not my fauikt that Lois does studf lkike that. Say pleasee

Are you alright? If you've gone insane and that's why you've suddenly lost the ability to spell then that's going to look very bad on me.

Somethnih bad happned Hvyy. Grammy isnt fdong so goof.

For god's sakes, if this is some sort of prank I'm going to let Donna deal with you. Where are you?

Bar off 32nd strtt. Hvy sdhe mihitg die.

I'll only ask you this once - do you need me to come get you?

I really think i NEdd youi here.

I'll be there in five minutes.


A/N So yeah, I've decided texts fall under notes. And yeah, Mike's writing isn't the best when he's THAT drunk; in my experience handwriting is actually more legibile than texts when you're drunk ;) Hope you liked it, but I'm determined to move back to proper notes again, like when a chapter was centered around the notes. It seems to be lacking in this one. I feel kinda lukewarm about this chapter anyways tbh, so if you all tell me what you think I would really appreciate it :)