Previously in 'The world's finest treasure'…
Harvey had sent the genie to Neal after wishing for his own safety and Mike's health. Since the con man had one wish left, he had hoped that Neal would babysit Mike until he was ready to make a decision about his future and set him free. Mike hadn't been thrilled about the idea but had trusted Harvey when he said that it was for the best. Afraid that Harvey might forget him easily, Mike had hidden some of his belongings in the living room. Meanwhile, Neal had missed Mike all these months and had seen this opportunity as a chance to win him back.
Mike let out a long yawn and stretched before smiling at the feeling of the soft sheets underneath him. He had just woken up from a nice dream where he and Harvey had gone horseback riding, exchanging quotes from the 'Brokeback Mountain' the whole time. He had no idea if Harvey even knew how to ride a horse, but in his dream, he had looked gorgeous while galloping across the field towards him. He wanted to keep his eyes closed and enjoy the lingering image a little longer, but it was time to get up. It was Monday and his boss wouldn't… 'Wait a second. This isn't Harvey's bed.'
The genie's eyes flew open as he realized that the sunlight was coming through the windows from a different direction.
"Good morning, Gorgeous."
And, that wasn't Harvey's voice.
"Uh, good morning, Neal." Mike rubbed sleep out of his eyes while he tried to shake off the disappointment. He had momentarily forgotten that he was staying at Neal's place.
"What? I'm just Neal? I don't get to be called gorgeous?" Neal asked with a playful smile.
"Nope. It would only feed your already severely inflated ego." Mike sat up on the bed as he thought of someone else who had a gigantic ego. He wondered what that person was doing right now. Harvey usually enjoyed a slice of toast, two eggs sunny-side up, half a bagel, an apple, a yogurt, a cup of coffee, and a small glass of orange juice for breakfast. When Harvey summoned him early enough, he would sit across the kitchen island and watch his master eat. One morning, he had bluffed that he could tell how his mentor's day would go just by looking at the shape of his eggs. But Harvey had snorted and told him that the eggs looked exactly the way he had wanted them to be.
'He's so silly.' Mike chuckled as he floated towards the foot of the bed to reach his lamp. He always started his day with a genie potion.
"Thirsty, Mike? Why don't you try a new drink I've got for you? You'll like it better than Sprite." Neal slid off the bed in his half-naked glory and headed towards the terrace.
"Hey, you should know by now how unwise it is to underestimate my love for Sprite." Mike tried not to look at Neal's perfectly sculpted upper body. They weren't together anymore.
"I'll take my chances." Neal smiled at Mike's reaction and walked out to the terrace before coming back with a box of bottled beverages. The minute Mike had fallen asleep, he had called Mozzie to have the lemon-lime sodas delivered before morning.
"Here. Give it a try. I had once told Moz that you're exceptionally fond of Sprite and he found a place where they sold these." Neal skillfully opened a bottle without an opener and handed it over to the genie.
Mike looked at the bottle suspiciously before taking a sip. "Where exactly are these from? There's no label. You're sure Mozzie bought these?"
"They say the most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious." Neal grabbed a bottle of water so that he wouldn't be wasting any of Mike's precious sodas.
"Somehow I don't think Einstein was talking about questionable sodas." Mike made a face but didn't stop drinking. He trusted Neal and it wasn't like a genie could get sick.
"So, do you like it?" Neal asked with twinkling eyes, hoping for a positive answer. Genies didn't eat food and Mike didn't particularly like wine, so there was no chance of him dining and wining the genie to win his heart back. As lame as it was, soda was the only way to appeal to his palate.
"I don't know. I guess it's not bad." Mike shrugged.
"Not bad? But you've almost finished it already." Neal pointed at the bottle in Mike's hand.
Mike's eyes grew wide as he noticed that Neal was right. When had he drunk it all? He must have been really thirsty; he had burned a lot of calories in his dream. The more he thought about Harvey, the more he missed him. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since he had left Harvey's place but he couldn't stop feeling that everything around him was wrong. He wasn't supposed to be drinking a beverage that wasn't approved by the FDA on someone else's bed. At this time of the day, he was supposed to be choosing his skinny tie and warming up his mouth to one-up his boss at every single opportunity.
Neal took a few steps towards the bed and took Mike's free hand in his. It pained him to see his genie look homesick. "Hey, you're not a prisoner here. You can call him or go see him anytime you like."
Mike's face fell. "I can't. You heard him yesterday. He said I could only call when there's an emergency."
"Well, he's not your master or boss anymore. You don't have to follow his orders. You know I can get you a secure line."
"You mean Mozzie can." Mike let his windy hand slip between Neal's fingers.
"No, I mean I can. I work for the FBI, remember?" Neal gave him a smug grin.
"Well, how does the FBI feel about tardiness? 'Cause you're going to be late." Mike pointed at the clock on the wall with his chin.
Neal nodded and tapped the box of sodas. "Try not to drink it all before I get back." He ruffled the genie's hair and headed towards the door. He wanted to call in sick and enjoy the day with Mike, but it was probably safer for Mike if he stuck to his routine.
"Stop gawking at me and go shower already." Mike said firmly. "I'll stay inside the lamp until you get back home."
"You don't want to spend the day here? June won't come in and bother you. You could appraise my new paintings."
"You mean your new forgeries." Mike opened a new bottle of soda with magic. He wasn't in the mood to do it the human way.
"Actually, I haven't forged any masterpieces in a while. I've been too busy painting my muse."
"You have a muse, huh? And, who might that be?" Mike tried to drown his jealousy in the soda. Neal had had every right to move on after sending him away. If he chose to be human, he was going to stick with Harvey anyway.
"Look for yourself." Neal picked up the lamp and put it down in front of the paintings in a corner, covered with a white cloth. "I have to run!"
Watching Neal rush out of the room, Mike wondered if his master hadn't made a move on him all night because of this muse of his. They had chatted in bed until dawn with Neal wearing sweat pants and him wearing the pajamas that Harvey had bought him. 'Not that I would've flirted back, but am I that easily forgettable?'
Mike left the bottle floating in the air and pulled down the cloth, only to find a familiar face on the canvas. 'Oh, it's me!'
Feeling an odd sort of relief and contentment, Mike studied the painting. It was an oil painting of him wearing a fig leaf and a smile. Neal had always appreciated his virtually naked form and he had always enjoyed the appreciation. 'I suppose I should drop the suits and go back to those days.'
There was now no need for him to fuss with suits in the mornings and it was his job to please his master, but he was reluctant to wear something other than suits. 'Urgh, Harvey must be rubbing off on me.'
"What's keeping you from admiring your own face?" Neal walked in with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and his body glistening with water. He was glad that he hadn't skipped any workouts even while he was in jail.
Mike was relieved that he wasn't holding the soda. He would have dropped it at the breathtaking sight of his host. "That was quick…"
"Haha, I've always been quick. You know that. You can't take too much time in the shower when there's a price on your head." Neal reminded him why he had picked up such a habit.
"Oh, right. I forgot about that. Harvey always takes so long in the shower. I wonder why he needs so much time. Such a neat freak." Mike turned around as he downed the soda so that he would stop staring at his master's chest.
Neal knew that he had to give Mike enough time to forget about his previous master, but it was difficult to suppress the ugly emotions that surfaced whenever the genie talked about him. And, really, he didn't want to think about why the lawyer needed so much time in the shower while Mike was waiting outside.
"You can draw or paint if you like. I have several blank canvasses." He was absolutely sure that Mike was going to draw Harvey Specter but he would have to tolerate it. The more Mike let out, the faster he could move on.
Leaving Mike to take a look at the other paintings, Neal started to get dressed. He always enjoyed working for Peter, but today he had an extra incentive; he would be coming back home to his beautiful genie.
"Mike? A little help with the tie?" Neal asked, hoping to get his loved one closer to him. Unlike last night when he had chatted away like a little bird, Mike had been rather distant this morning. He supposed that Mike had been so talkative because he had been telling him about his life with Specter.
"Didn't you help Harvey with his ties?" Neal was forced to mention the lawyer when Mike just clicked his fingers to summon his magic instead of coming over.
"Nope. He was the one who helped me."
Mike's face didn't give away much but Neal could hear how much the genie missed the lucky man. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to console him more. It would have to wait until evening. "Have a good day, Mike. I'll call you at lunch." Swiftly putting on his jacket and fedora, he left in a hurry.
Mike watched as the door closed behind his master. He felt himself relax at the knowledge that he was alone. 'This is ridiculous. Since when did I feel nervous around him? I trust him completely so what am I afraid of? That I'll fall for him again and forget about Harvey? That I'll realize how none of my feelings are real? Who knows how much is because of the lamp and how much is my own?'
It clearly wasn't the first time that these questions had come up. The general consensus among genies was that the lamp only acted as a trigger and was unable to generate feelings that hadn't been there in the first place. But Mike had seen too many genies move on quickly from their supposedly beloved masters that it was difficult to put faith in the prevailing opinion. He thought that it had felt different to be with Harvey but how could he be sure? He had barely got to kiss the man to confirm his gut feeling.
With a sigh, Mike dropped into a chair and glanced at the paintings. Neal had always had an exceptional talent for art, but these paintings were beyond impressive. The gentle brush strokes reminded him of the caresses that Neal had used to give him and the bright colors showed that Neal was capable of seeing through all the shadows in his mind. He wasn't just Neal's muse; he was his love. It was impossible to miss the amount of adoration and affection that were dripping off the paintings. It hurt to know that Neal still loved him this much when all he could think about was Harvey. 'But who knows how long it's going to last? A genie's supposed to love his current master and Neal's my master now. Who's to say my love for Harvey's strong enough to beat the system?'
Feeling gloomy, Mike picked up a blank canvas. If painting was such an effective way to show one's love, he wanted to express his feelings for Harvey before he became a victim of the lamp and forgot all about him.
As he stood in front of the door to his condo, Harvey realized how dull it was to punch in the security code. He hadn't noticed how excited it had been to get to the other side of the door these past few months until now. There was nothing waiting for him; no cheeky counterpunch, no horrible singing, and no embarrassing picture on the wall. His mood only got worse when he opened the door and came face to face with dead silence. It was so quiet that he could hear the clock on the wall ticking and the fridge in the kitchen humming. Those were sounds that he had never particularly noticed before, but without the chatty creature dominating his attention, they were getting on his nerves.
He dropped his briefcase on the couch and headed straight for the fridge. He knew that it wouldn't stop the annoying hum, but he still managed to derive some pleasure from kicking it. Then he opened it to take out a bottled water, only to find that the highest shelf was stuffed with Sprite. It only occurred to him then that he had forgotten to inform his housekeeper that it had now become unnecessary to hoard that specific beverage. 'Damn, who's going to drink all this? I guess I should put them in the associates' break room tomorrow.'
Harvey took out a can and flopped down into the couch. It hadn't been a difficult day at the office but he was exhausted. He would like to think that it was because of the amount of work he had to handle by himself, but he knew the real reason. He had nobody to exchange banter with via internet messenger, nobody to check in on during the lunch break, and nobody to lecture about personal safety. Even when Donna had done her best to engage him in witty conversation, he had felt alone. It was puzzling to find out that the loneliness could bother him this much. He had learned how to ignore it a long time ago and had been enjoying huge success.
'I can't even sit properly. Stupid anxiety.' Harvey switched his position on the couch to get more comfortable. It almost felt like there was something under the cushion.
'Maybe there is.' He got up and looked under the cushion. One of Mike's shiny darts caught his eye.
'Idiot. How many times did I tell him to pack everything? I even threatened him that I'll throw away anything he leaves behind.' Harvey put the dart on one side of the coffee table and opened the can of Sprite. He wasn't drinking it because he missed Mike. He was thirsty and there were only so many cans that the associates could consume.
Harvey got up and walked over to his DVD basket. Luckily for him, he had a panacea; the Star Trek DVD box set complete with autographs of the main actors. But there again, he found a trace of Mike. An empty Sprite can was sitting prettily on top of his favorite DVD. 'He really didn't listen to me, did he? I knew that lazy puppy had packed too quickly.'
Tossing the can into the nearest waste basket, he slid in the DVD and returned to the couch. But when he grabbed the remote control, he had to laugh. He found a piece of puzzle which had to be purposefully put on the coffee table right under the remote control. 'So he wants to keep annoying me even when he's not around. Well, he never liked it when I was at peace.'
Shaking his head but oddly feeling a little better, he started the DVD and turned on the air conditioner. He frowned when something dared to fall on top of his perfectly coiffed hair. It was Mike's skinny tie.
Harvey groaned as he thought about how much fun Mike and Caffrey would have while chatting about stupidly skinny ties. Then he thought about how Mike might have gone back to his fig leaf fashion and threw the tie on the floor. He had kept telling himself all day that it had been the only option for Mike and himself. As much as he loathed admitting it, the con man was much more experienced in hiding against criminals and keeping treasures safe. Besides, Mike needed a reason to decide his fate. He had already lived long enough as a genie.
'I did the right thing.' Harvey could hear that the movie had started but he couldn't stop staring at the tie on the floor. Mike had left behind his favorite tie and he didn't know how to process that information. That was when he spotted a glimpse of brown on the gray tie. It looked like the letter 'E'. He picked up the tie and found a message engraved on the front: Wait for me.
Harvey squeezed the fabric in his fist and let out a dissatisfied sound. 'I need to teach him about color coordination. Who thinks brown matches gray?'
He got up and walked towards the bedroom. He was going to keep the tie only to teach Mike a lesson if he ever came back. If he threw it away, the fake lawyer could argue that there was no proof that he had mismatched the colors. After careful consideration, he chose to keep the piece of evidence around his doorknob.
Beep. Beep.
Harvey's heart started racing at the sound of the doorbell. Who could it be? At this time of the night? Had Mike already made a decision and chose him? He knew that it was an irrational conclusion but he couldn't stop himself from hoping for the best. "Who is it?"
The monitor near the door showed the doorman holding a large package. Refusing to be disappointed, Harvey opened the door with a bright face. "You have something for me, Philippe?"
"Yes, Mr. Specter. It's an urgent package for you."
Harvey let the doorman leave the package leaning against the wall and wished him goodnight. Then he locked the door and took a look at the package. It was rectangular and had the size of a…
'Big frame.' Harvey finished his thought as he ran his fingers along the edge. He tore the wrapping paper and smiled fondly at the dashing man in the painting. It was him. He was pointing a finger with a frown and his mouth open as if he was lecturing the viewer of the painting.
'Mike…?' Harvey looked for a card or a note and found a piece of paper attached to the back of the frame. In Mike's handwriting, it read:
Since you never fired me, I'm still technically your associate. This is me making sure that you have enough ego-inflating material for the week.
'For the week? Does that mean he's going to send me something every week?' Despite knowing that it could be dangerous, Harvey couldn't resist the smile that crept up to his eyes. He wished that Mike had drawn a self-portrait instead, but it wasn't the right time to be picky. He was grateful that he had something of Mike's that was more valuable than a skinny tie.
'But how good is he? He drew this in one day?' Harvey took the painting to the living room to examine it more carefully. He had read from the con man's notes that Mike knew how to paint, but he had never expected him to be this good. Caffrey had been gushing about it in his notes, but after what had happened with Mike's singing skills, he had deemed the eely man unfit to make a proper assessment of anything that was related to the genie.
Harvey was pleased to see that the masterpiece was exactly like Mike, full of distinctive emotion and wit. The visible emotions were longing, desperation, and plenty of love. Harvey envied how easily the genie could express himself and felt that Mike's feelings towards him had never been more evident. 'He didn't stand a chance against a perfect model, did he? Who doesn't love me?'
Then he enjoyed a short laugh. If Mike had been there, he would have gone on and on about how he was the descendant of Narcissos. Harvey found it surprising that he seemed to remember a lot of things that Mike had said, when most of them weren't really worth the effort. 'Such a silly boy.'
After burning the note for safety measures, Harvey proceeded to hang the frame in the study. Even though there weren't any traces of Mike, he felt like the space belonged to him. He rarely used the study these days and he thought that it could use a touch of the genie, given how he had poured his intelligence and heart in that room to help him.
'I'll have to fend off Jessica for a while. I'm not getting another associate just yet.' He had had no trouble doing his own work before he had hired an associate, and he didn't think that the managing partner would know that he was working alone as far as he kept up with the good results.
It wasn't that he counted on Mike's promise to return. He believed that promises were only credible at that very moment since even if the person fully intended to keep his promise, there were too many variables that could affect the outcome. But it was Mike, and he thought that he deserved a chance to prove him wrong.
'And, wouldn't he love to do just that.' Harvey reminisced about the time when his associate had found a mistake that he had made a dozen years ago and had acted painfully smug all day. He hadn't told Mike but he had felt extremely proud. Mike had always been eager to learn and he didn't think that it was just because he was a genie under the lamp's influence. He had a feeling that Mike was genuinely interested in law as long as he could use it to help people who were incapable of defending themselves in court.
'He might make a fine attorney one day. Or a fine artist.' Harvey looked at the beautiful painting one last time before going to bed. He felt much better now that he didn't feel all that alone anymore.
The next morning, Neal woke up to an empty bed. Mike must have gone inside the lamp sometime during the night. When he had come home from work last evening with flowers and a new tie for Mike, the genie had been putting finishing touches on his watercolor. Just like he had expected, the object of Mike's worship had been Harvey Specter.
Trying his best to suppress his jealousy, he had praised Mike's talent and had offered to send the painting to the lawyer's place. He couldn't say that it was a selfless act since all he had wanted was to get the annoying face out of Mike's sight. He was a firm believer of the expression 'Out of sight, out of mind'.
Neal got ready for work and had breakfast downstairs with June before coming up to rub the magic lamp. He could tell that the genie wanted some time alone while getting used to his new surroundings, but he wanted to see Mike before leaving.
"Hey." Neal smiled and gave a chaste kiss on Mike's cheek. The genie was wearing the suit that the lawyer had bought him, but it was the tie that he had given him which was around the slender neck.
"Hey. Are you planning to be late for work again? I thought promptness was the key to a successful career."
Neal's smile grew bigger as he relished the fact that Mike seemed to be in a better mood than yesterday. "I'll leave in ten. By the way, did I snore last night? You left."
"Oh, you didn't snore. You just called someone else's name." Mike crossed his arms.
"I called someone's name in my sleep that wasn't yours? No way." Neal laughed. It was probably one of Mike's cute, little pranks.
"I'm not joking, Neal. You called Peter's name. Is that the same Peter you work for?"
Neal chose to postpone answering and studied the genie's face. He was an ex-con artist who could easily figure out whether someone was lying or not, and he had spent enough time with Mike to know all his telltale signs. The problem was that he couldn't see any of them right now.
Was it possible that he had actually called Peter's name in his sleep? But why would he have done that when he had been dreaming about going to the world's best hat shop on a private jet and finding the perfect hat for Mike? If he had enjoyed another dream with Peter in it that had been good enough for him to call Peter's name, shouldn't he remember it? Was Mike telling the truth or had the shark taught him how to mask his true thoughts? But wouldn't Mike be appalled if he found out that he was suspecting him? Shouldn't trusting him be the first step in repairing their relationship?
"I'm sorry you had to hear that. I must've dreamt about Peter Pan again. You know how much I hate growing old." Neal looked closely for any signs of relief that the convenient lie had worked. His gut told him that Mike was messing with him, but the genie didn't look guilty or relieved at all. He just nodded and started grinning at him.
"Oh, please don't tell me I've got butter on my face. June never tells me." Whatever the reason was, it was nice to see Mike smiling like that.
"Nope. But we must've read different versions of Peter Pan, and you got the adult version." Mike teased.
"I gather I didn't just call his name then." Neal decided to play along.
"You went on and on about how you wanted to run your fingers in his hair and find him the perfect hat. Then you moved on to describing how you would like to make him wear nothing but a hat in your bed. It's funny though. I always thought Peter Pan already had the perfect hat on his head."
"Hey, you should know by now how unwise it is to underestimate my expertise in hats." Neal paraphrased Mike's words from twenty-four hours ago. He wanted to show the genie that he paid very close attention to everything that he said.
Mike laughed. "Good for Peter then. Maybe you can draw new versions of Peter Pan who's wearing the perfect hat."
"But I doubt you heard me right, Mike. Because those are the things I want to do with you, not with a fictional character." Neal felt the atmosphere change but he didn't regret it. Mike's little mind game wasn't going to work. As far as he was concerned, he didn't have any feelings for either Peter Pan or Peter Burke, the admirable FBI agent.
"That's funny too. See, most people would think I'm a fictional character as well." Mike had a feeling that Neal saw right through his strategy to plant the idea that he had the hots for his boss. It was perfectly possible, wasn't it? It happened all the time! His case aside, he had seen so many employees fall for their superiors and end up spreading their legs on their desks.
'Thank god Donna doesn't seem to have done that.' Mike let out a small sigh of relief. If Neal really didn't have any romantic feelings for his boss, perhaps he could introduce him to Donna. They would make a super sassy couple, but Harvey would kill him as many times as he deemed necessary for letting a felon get close to his precious assistant.
"Done meditating for the morning?" Neal asked with an amused expression on his face. He wondered what was going through Mike's mind.
"I wasn't meditating. I was praying for Peter to have the patience to deal with you all day. I bet that wasn't what he had in mind when he signed up for the FBI." Mike stuck his tongue out.
"I'll have you know that Peter greatly enjoys my company, both during business hours and breaks. Now if only my genie could do the same…"
"Well, you didn't give me any work to do, so I can't do anything about the business hours. And, for breaks, I think I enjoy Mozzie's stealthy company much more." Mike pointed at the building that was visible from the terrace. It would have been nearly impossible to spot the clever man with human eyes, but genies had better eyesight than humans.
"Mike, the only reason I didn't ask to pick your brain was because I wanted you to get some rest, after all the change that's been going on in your life. Mozzie told me he had to save you and Harvey with a toy gun in the middle of the street." Neal gave him a sympathetic look. "That would've never happened on my watch." He added as an afterthought.
"Don't say that! Harvey did his best to keep me safe! He couldn't have done any better. You should've seen how paranoid he was."
"Apparently he wasn't paranoid enough." Neal didn't want to badmouth Mike's previous master, but he didn't like how the genie defended him with such determination. If the lawyer had said bad things about him, would Mike have done the same for him?
"I'm sorry, Neal. I didn't mean to yell. I know you're just worried about me. It's just that I think Harvey did remarkably well at protecting me. He doesn't really know how to do anything other than terrifying people in court and making fun of a balding colleague of his." Mike knew that Neal had always looked out for him and he certainly appreciated the effort.
He got to breathe a little more easily when a beautiful smile came up on the handsome face. Master or not, he didn't want to see Neal go to work, looking sad and hurt. He floated closer to the gorgeous man and straightened his tie. "There you go. Now you can put on that perfect hat of yours and go save the world."
"I'd rather stay here and save you from boredom." Neal didn't even try to avoid Mike's windy punch to the chest. It only tickled and he was glad that Mike seemed to be comfortable enough around him to throw air punches at him.
"Save the world so I'd be more inclined to become a human being." Mike whispered and kissed him on the cheek.
"Did you just give me a kiss? I'm honored, Mike." Neal grinned widely.
"Get out before I have to punch you again. This time, it won't be in the chest." Mike shooed his master out of the room and put a hand on his heart. It was beating fast and he didn't want to know why.