Hey Everyone!

I've missed you all immensly, and I've realized that I am very, very shitty at keeping promises. So, I will just be honest with you guys and say I will try to update this story as much as I can. It sucks when writer's block interferes with what you want to do.

Anywho, hopefully you die-hard 'Harvine' fans will finally be put at ease.

(For those of you wondering, I wrote half of the next chapter so there's gonna be another chapter in the near[ish] future. Yay!)

**Can anyone recommend to me a good Suits fic? Doesn't matter about the content, I just want something to obsess over. Send me a PM or leave a review if you have one in mind. Please and thank you :)**

Enjoy!

P.S. Suits ain't mine.

"Mom?"

The young brunette sat her bag down as she continued to walk into her home. The apartment, while it was quaint and warm, was much too small for her and her mother, especially with their hobbies littering the place. Books were shoved into the shelves to make as much room as possible, papers lying around everywhere, and sketches of landscapes falling off the light table were a few of the many things cluttering the small home. The seventeen year old girl listened intently for any forms of life.

As her eyes scanned over the main room, the red light from the answering machine blinked in frustration, constantly flashing in front of the young woman. She approached the old machine, pushing down the play button.

"You have three new messages. First message."

"…This is Kevin Bose with the financial aid office-"

She hit 'delete' before the message could be finished.

"Message deleted. Next message."

"…Hi Jo! It's Kayla, just calling to wonder about drinks or coffee soon. Call me soon honey!"

She patiently waited for the last message.

"Next Message."

"…Hi Maxie, it's Mom. Listen, I'm gonna be at the office a little later than I expected. Fucking lawyers, think they run everything."

She laughed, loving her mom's attitude.

"Trisha got your message earlier, and yes, it's okay to go to your, quote, 'friend's sleepover' on Friday, but you're only allowed at the party until midnight."

The girl rolled her eyes. It was impossible to keep a secret from that woman.

"Okay, I'll push it to one. But no later than one-thirty or you're grounded. And you know that I'll know."

The brunette leaned against the counter, picking off grapes in the bowl in front of her.

"I'll stop by after work and pick up some ice cream, and we'll probably end up watching some lame chick flick or a mafia movie. But no Star Trek, you hear?"

She pouted. She could never catch a break.

"We'll talk more once I get home. I love you a million Skittles."

"I love you a million gummy worms," the young girl said to the machine.

A loud beep erupted from the machine, and the automatic voice rang out into the empty house.

"End of Messages."

Her eyes opened peacefully, thankful that she got another good night's rest. Her mind was finally calm, considering all the stress she was facing. Three months until the wedding, the thought in her head was always the first one there for the day. Three months, twenty six days, ten hours, and fourteen minutes was a constant mantra in her head. Although she was relaxed, she still was aware that she only had three months, twenty six days, ten hours and thirteen minutes until she got married to the love of her life.

Speaking of, she turned to face him, arm protectively holding her close to his body, as always. She looked at his serene face, all lines erased; all laugh lines and crow's feet dissipated. He looked years younger, and still as gorgeous as he always was. She smiled as her fingers trailed over his face, ghosting over his eyebrows, nose, cheeks, and lips. Quickly, without disturbing him, she kissed him softly, holding it only for a moment.

She slipped out of bed, grabbing her satin robe and securely tying it around her waist as she made her way to the bathroom. Sitting at her vanity, her damp hair from the night before was placed in rollers as she began getting ready for the day. As she sat there, she remembered her dream. It wasn't really a dream, just reliving a memory that she had kept hidden from her mind for a very long time. Although the memory meant a lot, it came with a large amount of pain that Max couldn't handle for the longest time.

But the previous night proved that she could.

Rubbing the excess lotion on her hands, her attention was brought to the bathroom door, where it was being pushed open. She turned once she could fully see the man behind the door. She sighed in content. Sleepy Harvey was one of her favourite Harvey's, all rugged and doe-eyed with a raspy voice. His arm was scratching the back of his neck, and his shirt rose high enough for Max to appreciate what a fine man she had.

"Hi," she said sweetly, smiling at him brightly.

"Hi," he responded, walking towards her. He stopped beside her, leaning down to kiss her. Max smiled, as she grasped his face, keeping him there longer.

"It's five in the morning," he said, taking his seat at the edge of the tub.

"I know what time it is, Harvey," Max said, laughing a bit.

"So you know I'm going to ask you, right?" He said, his eyebrow raising, almost challenging her.

Max's nightmares were not as bad as they were before. Before, she would wake up in a fit, muttering something about 'thanking every God out there that I didn't get a phone call.' Harvey, as usual, was worried sick about her, but she reassured him it would blow over. Sure enough, she had been getting better, and today was no exception.

"It wasn't a nightmare," Max said softly.

This time, Harvey was interested.

"So what was it?" He prompted.

She stopped placing her make-up on her face as she turned to him.

"I dreamt about the last time my mom ever said something to me."

Harvey knew a lot about Max's life recently. She told him almost every time she was hurt, or when she was extremely happy. They were getting closer as she began to open up to him more, which Harvey was always thankful for. But there were topics that were a no-go zone, and this was a topic that Harvey never dared to talk about.

"It was on an answering machine. She called me earlier but I missed it, then I called her back at work leaving a message, and then she left me one after I missed her second call," Max said, laughing in between. She could never get in touch with her mother if it wasn't face to face.

"The worst part of it was that I never thought it would be the last thing she ever said to me. It was just a regular message. It was nothing and everything at the same time."

She swallowed the ball of tears collecting in her throat, "I guess I'm just remembering these things because the wedding's so close and the thought of her not being there-"

Max stopped talking almost instantly as her mind reminded her that she wasn't the only one who didn't have a parent attending their wedding. She looked at Harvey, who was always so selfless, so reassuring, and always listened to her. She knew what it was like to have the parent that she favour more die such a sudden death and be ripped away from her. It was a pain that could never be sympathized. She shook her head, laughing at her selfishness and stupidity as she made her way over to Harvey, sitting on his lap.

"What about you? Any dreams you want to talk about?"

Harvey smiled, "No, actually. They aren't as important as yours."

"Why? Are they filled with you sitting in the Captain's chair on the Enterprise?"

"The majority of them, yes, but the others are filled with a certain brunette who has happened to consume my mind."

She smirked, "So why would you wake up from these lovely dreams with a certain brunette?"

He looked at her, pushing her hair away from her face.

"Because my dreams don't compare to my reality."

Damn you, Harvey, she thought as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him with everything she could muster up. Harvey could make her melt with the fewest of words, and he knew the power he had over her when he said things that made her feel better about herself.

She looked at him, "Are you sure everything's alright? You must be stressed too."

Harvey shook his head, "My head's in a good place now, considering everything."

Max smiled, "Good. I just want to make sure."

"That's why I," Harvey took a deep breath, "…love you."

Max smiled proudly, leaning forward to kiss him.

"I love you too," she said as she got off of his lap and back towards the vanity. Harvey watched as she did her daily routine of hair and make-up as he got ready for his shower. He couldn't help but keep an eye on Max. She accepted the fact that he was always over protective, but to a certain degree. In reality, Harvey wanted to make sure that every step she took was safe. He loved her more than he had loved anything else in his life. He almost lost her on several occasions, and that type of fear is something Harvey wanted to avoid for the rest of his life.

Before getting into the shower, he turned to face her, gazing at her focused face. She helped him so much with his philophobia, and everything else he dealt with when he first met her. He realized that she was always supporting him, always making sure he was okay, always being overprotective. Harvey couldn't help but feel selfish, especially when Max was going through a harder time than he was, and yet he hadn't dedicated more time and effort like Max had.

He headed into the shower, coming to the realization that his fiancée helped him with his troubles, and now it was his turn to return the favour.

"How old is that suit? Jesus Christ, you look like a six year old."

The associates at Pearson Hardman loved their jobs. The young attorneys thrived when they attended to cases, filing subpoenas, and everything else that led them to be great lawyers one day. Every single associate loved coming to work, except when they had to deal with a certain Junior Partner who had a very bad temper as of late. The said Junior Partner picked up a form that one of the associates had written up.

"Are you using crayon or is this just a really ugly shade of blue?"

Jonathan, a very quiet associate, stuttered, "Uh… no, it's just-"

"Just what? A representation of Picasso having Alzheimer's?"

He threw the paper at the associate as he began walking through the bullpen again.

"Pathetic," he muttered to himself, making his way towards a certain associate who had his ear buds carefully placed on either ear.

"Michael," the Junior Partner said, resting his arms on the edge of the cubicle.

Michael, who happened to notice the person in front of him, removed his ear buds.

"Louis," he said, giving all of his attention to his senior, "With what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You can take that pleasure and stick it up your ass," Louis said bitterly, "I want the Giuseppe case closed."

Mike snorted, "They already went to trial, Louis. I can't just close the case now."

"I want it done, and you can figure out how or I'll forget to give you your semi-annual bonus."

Mike's eyes widened.

"Louis, you can't-"

"Get it done," he said, before turning away from Mike and making his way out of the bullpen.

Mike stared dumbfounded at Louis' retreating form, trying to process what just happened. Louis gave him a case that he had no control of, yet if he couldn't turn the case around Mike was out of a lot of money, and Grammy needed more money for medication, and possibly a new home.

His thoughts came to a halt when he saw Max approaching his cubicle.

"What crawled up Louis' ass?"

"The question is what didn't crawl up his ass," Mike said, fixing the papers on his desk.

Max placed a hand on her hip, "Something is going on with Louis."

"Well he can deal with it by himself," he said, getting up from his cubicle, and making his way around his desk and towards Max as she began walking out of the bullpen.

"You really going to let Louis keep bullying you when you can do something about it?"

"Why do you always assume something's wrong with someone when they're an asshole all the time?

"It's a girl thing. By the way, you excited about Boston tomorrow?"

Mike's heart stopped as he forced a smile on his face, "Rachel and I together at Harvard? It's a dream."

Max smiled, clutching onto Mike's arm, "God, I miss Harvard. The campus, the buildings, the people."

"Those were some good years," Mike said, the guilt for lying to his best friend seeping into his bones.

Mike had a secret. It wasn't that he didn't go to Harvard, or that he was lying about going to Harvard, or that he's not even a real lawyer. He kept this secret from everyone he knew: Rachel, Harvey, and especially Max. If Harvey knew what this secret was, he would flip out at him. If Rachel knew… well then she would know about his other secrets. But Max, this was a secret that was all about her. The guilt that was eating inside him from the fact he never went to law school affected him everyday, and not only was he keeping it from his best friend, he was also keeping it from his girlfriend. They deserved to know, and he couldn't tell Rachel first, not yet. So, Mike came up with another secret.

He was going to tell Max he never went to Harvard.

"Earth to Mike?" Max said, shaking his arm, "You reminiscing?"

Mike snapped out of zoning out, placing that fake smile again on his face.

"Yeah, just reminiscing."

Max eyed him for a moment.

"O… kay?" Max said as she began walking again, "But since you're leaving tomorrow, I think we should go for drinks later on after work."

For the first time that day, Mike smiled an honest smile.

"Yeah, that would be perfect," he told her.

She pulled away, heading towards her office.

"Seven thirty. I'll text you the place. Don't be late," she told him firmly, placing a kiss on his cheek as she wandered into her office. Mike watched as she sat down before making his way to the nearest washroom. Thankfully alone, he threw water onto his face, trying to cool himself down. These lies were eating him alive, and he kept on lying to the very few people who trusted him, cared about him, and loved him deeply. Rachel and Max didn't deserve to be lied to.

Mike looked at himself in the mirror.

I have to do it, he thought.

I have to tell them.

"Three months."

Harvey looked up from the papers he was reading on the couches as he noticed Jessica was making her way towards the couches, sitting comfortably on the leather seats. She looked across from the table, staring at him with a smile on her face.

"Do you know what that means?"

"Yankees get the wild card?"

Her left eyebrow rose.

Harvey rolled his eyes, "It's actually three months and twenty six days."

"But you're obviously not counting."

He smirked, "Weren't you counting down the days until you got married?"

"I didn't come into your office to talk about myself," the powerful lawyer said as she crossed her ankles again, folding her hands in front of her.

"I came to talk about you."

Harvey sighed, leaning back in the seat, "Look, Jessica, I know you've been hesitant with our relationship-"

"You're interrupting," she said plainly.

Harvey shut his mouth quickly.

Jessica looked at him, "Ever since Max has made her way into your life, our billables have been up, more clients are coming in, and the overall experience they have with you is remotely pleasant."

Harvey nodded, "I'm glad I'm helping the business."

"Harvey," Jessica said, "I'm not talking about the business."

She pressed her lips together, leaning forward while sitting up straight.

"You've outgrown the persona you've held onto for almost your entire life, and I just wanted to let you know…"

Harvey watched as several emotions flicked over her face.

"I wanted to let you know… how happy I am for you."

She stood up, fixing her skirt.

"Even though you're still a bastard most of the time."

Harvey chuckled, watching as she made her way out of the office. Before she exited out of the door, she turned to face him.

"By the way, Harvey. This conversation never happened."

"I didn't even know you were in the room, Jessica."

"Toiletries?"

"Check."

"Shoes?"

"At least six."

"Ten outfits?"

"Twenty, I didn't want to take a chance."

"Over prepared, I like it," the amazingly fantastic Donna Paulsen said as she twirled her pen around, listening to her very beautiful, and very good friend Rachel Zane on the opposite side of the phone line. Resting her beautiful Jimmy Choo covered feet on the desk; Donna continued to recite items on a list to Rachel, as Rachel confirmed that the items Donna had said were the items currently in her travel bag.

"Jewellery?"

"I'm bringing the basics."

"Can't go wrong with that," Donna said, check-marking off the item.

"Condoms?"

The line was silent for a bit.

Donna took her feet off the table and sat straight.

"Rachel?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, I have them."

Donna's motherly instincts came in.

"Rachel, please don't tell me we're going to have to go through another pregnancy scare together."

"Oh, no, no, not at all," Rachel reassured her, "It's just…"

"Just?"

Rachel sighed, "I think Mike doesn't want kids."

Donna's heart broke, "Oh honey…"

The redhead heard the woman on the line take in a stuttered breath.

"He's just keeping something from me. I can't think of anything else because nothing else makes sense besides this," Donna waited for Rachel to continue, "Mike and I talk about everything, and he always freezes up when it comes to the topic about kids."

"Well that's how men are, Rachel," Donna said, reassuring her, "They feel like they'll screw up if they have a kid. I mean, Ezra and Harvey don't mind kids, but if I told Harvey that Max was pregnant right now he'd flip."

"WHAT?!" A voice from behind her screeched out.

Donna rolled her eyes and turned to find Harvey trying to put his eyes back into his head.

She put the phone down and pressed the intercom button.

"Relax, I'm using her as a hypothetical example. Now go focus on some boring lawyer crap or buy my Michael Kors bag now."

Donna placed the phone back to her ear, "Now look, sweetheart. Guys don't have such an advanced mind like us women do. He's probably just afraid that he'll say the wrong thing, and then cause a fight."

Donna could practically feel Rachel's thoughts shift, "Why is it you always know what-"

There was a pause, and Donna kept listening.

"Nevermind. I forgot you were Donna."

"That term always makes me feel like a queen," the beautiful redhead admitted.

"But I just feel like he's still keeping something from me."

Donna nodded, "Well then you won't know until you ask him, Rachel."

"I guess you're right," Rachel confirmed, "and if he is hiding something, then we can work on it, right?"

"Now you're using your head," Donna told her.

"Good thing we talk though. The only things he freezes up on is children and Harvard, which is kind of odd."

Donna froze.

"Listen Donna, I gotta go. I was supposed to be back at the office twenty minutes ago."

The redhead shook it off for a moment, "Right, see you when you get here."

She placed the phone back onto its rightful place as she told herself to take more controlled breaths. Rachel wasn't going to find out. Mike would find a way to make sure that Rachel would never find out. Rachel was going to be blissfully ignorant as much as she possibly could for as long as she could, and it was going to blow over. Maybe she would never be able to find out. Donna couldn't help but think of what would happen if Rachel did find out. She'd probably slap him, yell at him, and most likely break up with him. Harvey would be pissed if Mike told her everything, and Max would probably beat him up with her five-inch stiletto-

She doesn't know.

Her heart stopped, realizing the situation fully.

Max doesn't know Mike's secret.

The bar that was a few streets down from Pearson Hardman was loud and crowded, yet Max felt comfortable sitting at the bar, waiting for Mike as she drank a bottle of beer that her blond best friend suggested to her ("Max, trust me, this beer is possibly one of the best things you'll ever drink, I swear"). She closed her eyes and allowed herself not to think. The bar was too noisy for Max's brain to function, and she cherished moments like this. It was like chaos, distracting her mind from everything plaguing her mind as of late. She opened her eyes, turning to the bar top to check the time on her phone.

8:45.

Mike fucking Ross, Max thought as she shook her head, scrolling to find Mike's number in her phone. Once she found his name, she put the phone to her ear, hearing Mike's voicemail for the third time.

"If I tell you seven thirty, I'm expecting seven, and praying for six forty-five. But it is now eight forty-five and you are two hours late, and I'm drinking this semi-decent beer because of your diabolical ass. If you're not here by nine, I'm kicking your ass."

She went to hang up the phone, but another thought popped into her head.

"And if the reason you're late is because you're having sex with Rachel, I'll high five you before kicking your ass."

After hanging up, Max placed the phone in her bag, taking another swig of her drink when a man came to sit beside her. Thinking it was finally Mike, she turned to find someone else sitting there, turned to face her while giving all of his attention to her. He wasn't ugly, rather he was slightly handsome, but Max knew instantly that he was definitely not her type. He was much too down-to-earth, while Max needed someone who always aimed beyond the clouds.

"A woman like you does not belong in a bar like this," the man said, taking an appreciative look at the woman sitting in front of him. Women like that were far too beautiful to be sitting in a bar not as luxurious as they are. Not that he was complaining.

She smirked, "And what kind of woman does that make me?"

"Absolutely stunning. Plus, those shoes were made to walk on marble, not laminate wood."

Max pushed down the laugh that was rising. It wasn't the first time someone said something like that to her. It wasn't even the tenth.

"Of course, you know exactly who I am."

"I have no idea who you are, but I do know that you are beautiful," he called the bartender, asking for a beer. The bartender made her way towards him, placing his beer in front of him. Max couldn't help but roll her eyes when she saw it was the same beer she was drinking. The man noticed that she did roll her eyes, and began to laugh.

"I didn't get this one cause you did. It's my favourite beer."

"I'm sure," she said, sceptically.

The man shrugged, "Well, actually, my friend got me hooked."

"Well this friend must be smart," she said, taking a sip of her own beer.

The guy nodded, "That's an understatement."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Just how smart?"

He snorted, "Genius level. I swear, sometimes Mike seemed like he was the smartest person in the room without even trying."

The second the name 'Mike' came out of the gentleman's mouth, Max was curious. She was fairly easy at connecting the dots, considering Mike recommended this beer to her and the man in front of her. Maybe it was a small world after all.

"So, your friend… Mike," Max said, playing naïve, "were you close?"

He nodded, looking off into space for a moment, "Yeah, once upon a time."

She bit her lip. The man in front of her seemed so familiar, yet she never saw him in her life.

"I didn't catch your name by the way, I'm Penelope," she said, sticking out her hand. She never gave her real name out to strangers, and it was technically a part of her name as well.

He smiled, taking her hand.

"Trevor, it's nice to meet you."

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Max prayed to every entity out there that her face remained impassive. This was the Trevor that Mike spent so much time talking about. This was the guy that Mike grew up with, spent most of his time with, and got into a lot of trouble with. Max was aware that their relationship was long over, but she couldn't help but grab Mike when he started to sob about how he missed his best friend so much, even though his best friend was a douchebag. Mike told her a lot about him, but there were some pieces that she still wanted him to fill; yet Max knew Mike would probably never tell her.

"So, how much of a genius was your friend?" She said, leaning in a bit.

Trevor put his beer down, "Growing up, school was easy for his photographic memory, so he always helped me out with my schoolwork. But as we grew up, he constantly kept helping me. Not just with my homework, but I got into some stupid shit back then, and he was always there to bail me out."

Trevor shrugged, "Even when he hated me, he still helped me."

Suddenly, Trevor turned to face her, smiling, "Sorry, I sound like a chick crying about her boyfriend."

"You're a little more emotional about it, though," she said, a smile on her face.

Trevor laughed, "You've got jokes, Penelope."

"So I've been told," she said, twirling her beer bottle, "So with a brain like his, he must have excelled in high school and college," Max said, trying to prompt more information.

Trevor suddenly balked, his face going solemn.

That was the moment that Max realized what she was doing was absolutely ridiculous. Mike was her best friend, and the only reason Trevor no longer held that position was because he wasn't a good friend to Mike, which is what she was doing to him right now.

"I'm sorry, that was a little personal-"

"No, it's alright," Trevor said, waving it off, "It's just… college wasn't the best for him."

That threw Max off. Mike told her he loved Harvard.

"Where did he go?" Max asked.

"Same university I went to, but he was going to Harvard before he took the blame for something that was completely my fault, and he got reprimanded. "

Wait… He was?

"Did he still go to Harvard?" She asked, not liking where this was heading.

Trevor looked at her, taking a deep breath.

"What I did, it wasn't something that you get a slap on the wrist for."

Max stopped breathing then.

All the pieces fell into place then.

They were both in on it.

Why Harvey was hesitant to let Mike take Rachel to Harvard. How when any question related to Harvard was asked, there would be an evasive answer coming from both Harvey and Mike. How Mike knew everything about Harvard, yet even Max didn't know every little detailed. She always was weary of Mike's extensive knowledge of Harvard, but she didn't realize it was forced knowledge. She knew that her fiancée and her best friend kept a secret, but everyone was entitled to their secrets. Suddenly, Max became furious. Harvey and her always worked on being honest with her. She finally thought they were communicating well while Harvey was lying to her the entire time.

Mike never went to Harvard, Max realized.

ON THE NEXT TPOG: Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Maxine Harris.

You know the drill, loves.

Review!

xoxo N.