It had been a bad week. She knew that. It was obvious. Even Scottie had pulled back from her seemingly constant seduction of Harvey Specter. To say he wasn't himself was an understatement. To the eye untrained in the ways of the great Harvey Specter, Harvey was in a mood. He growled at associates who got in his way, he was even less empathetic with clients than usual, and he was barely trying to settle his cases – which in turn, allowed him to shred foe lawyers to pieces in court. It was not a pretty sight. He had completely thrown himself into his work, and had completely shut out the rest of the world. To make matters worse, Mike seemed to be keeping his distance as well. As much as Donna understood the kid's unwillingness to be near the powerful brood, she knew very well that his presence would ease whatever burden the lawyer was carrying with him as of late. He needed the extra shoulder to take the weight off.

He looks almost... sad... and she has no idea why. Oh, she could guess. And she had her guesses with her life placed down as bets; but for once, Donna didn't know. She watched him then, bent over his computer, comparing whatever he was looking at to a file he held in his hand. Eyes drifting back and forth between the two – brow furrowed, but otherwise, his features gave away only that he was hiding something. Something that was hurting him.

She didn't need to know what. She knew enough to know that this time; it wasn't her who needed to pick up the pieces of what was left of Harvey Specter. In the past, she had made it her job – her duty to the country – to make sure that the closer was always on good terms with world. Or, most of it anyway. She knew that being a jaded, scheming, jerk was in the job description. Oh, and what a job it was. For both of them. But not this time. Not for her. No, this mess was for Mike to clean up. Talk about calling Mike a puppy... The younger man never seemed to get himself involved in situations like Harvey always had. Sure, he'd deny it, but Donna knew that in many cases – those excluding his profession – Harvey could not clean up after himself.

And that is why, when the opportunity to sneak away from the office finally came, that Donna appeared in front of Mike's desk. Now, normally she would only leave her desk for five minutes in a day, to use the washroom, and all of her breaks would be taken from her desk – she made back the time later when Harvey sent her to glorious spas and retreats – but today she had a different idea.

"Hey," Mike looked up, pulling his ear buds out of his ears. This was not the person he was expecting.

"Hungry?" Donna asked with careful nonchalance, though her tone told him that it wasn't so much of an offer than a command.

He nodded quickly, standing up. "I assume you're not the hot dog kind of person. Restaurant?"

She suddenly grinned at him wickedly as they approached the elevators, flashing a shiny black card in her hand. "On Harvey."

It seemed that Donna knew exactly where she wanted to go. When they got downstairs, she pulled Mike away from the cab he was trying to hail, and linked her arm through his as she dragged him down the street. He was used to keeping up with Harvey, but Donna was a whole new force to be reckoned with. It was also difficult to walk on the strange angle she had him on – for a second he wondered if it was to keep him from escaping. Where was she taking him?

His prayers were answered as she walked into a Korean BBQ restaurant. He'd been nervous for a second. But of course he should never doubt the glorious Donna.

They were quickly seated at a table, and tea that was far too hot to drink was placed in front of them, still in the pot.

All was silent as Donna looked over her menu – Mike already knew it, having been there before. Patiently, he waited for her to say something. There must be an occasion, surely.

"So, how is your day going?" He hoped she heard the real question in his inquisition. She did, though she hid it well.

"Great, did you know Norma takes belly dancing lessons?"

What a lovely mental image. "Donna," he warned, knowing very well that she was beating around the metaphorical bush. Normally he'd let her have her fun, but her sudden avoidance had him on edge.

"I'm worried about Harvey." She said at once, staring blankly at her menu. A beat passed between them. "I want you to talk to him."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," she slapped the laminated paper down onto the table. "I don't know what's going on, Mike, but I need you to fix it. He's not well."

"What do you mean 'not well'?"

"He looks sad, Mike. All the time." She shook her head. "Could you just... please?"

He didn't know what to say to that. Was Harvey upset about something? If he was, the guilt he felt was no surprise. He should have noticed. He would have, had he been present.

A/N: Sorry it's short, a new one is going to be posted soon though!