This chapter is quite a bit shorter, and again is a little more exposition mixed in with a simple transition chapter, but it was fun to write so here you go! This is a pretty speedy update, and I'm not going to pretend that they'll all be as fast as this - I'm away for the next week or two, so nothing will be uploaded for a good few weeks. This fic is too fun to leave, though, and I've got a lot planned, so I'll definitely be back! Yes, it will be a multi-chapter fic.

Apologies for any errors. I really do hope you enjoy, and again, reviews are genuinely appreciated.

Enjoy!

Mike woke tangled in cool bedsheets. His heart jumped a little at the unfamiliar surroundings, but the details of the previous day came flooding back to him at the sight of his belongings lying in an ungainly pile where they had been deposited the night before.

A skylight above him cast warm rays over the minimalistic yet stylish room. When Harvey had warned him in the car that he'd be staying in the rarely-used spare room and had apologised for it being the smallest room in the condo, Mike hadn't been sure what to expect. He certainly didn't have the roomy modern bedroom that he was lying in now in mind, and couldn't disguise his snort of disbelief when Harvey showed him in.

Yawning, he pushed himself up to lean on the headboard. A compact digital clock on the bedside table read 09:56 and the apartment seemed pretty quiet, so Mike assumed Harvey had gone to work. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he pulled on a tee and some jeans and pushed open the door, entering the living room.

It was a large open plan condo, with polished wooden floors and shining marble surfaces, but also with a slightly homey feel; a smart family photo of Harvey himself seated with his parents and what Mike assumed was a younger brother rested on the mantelpiece next to another picture of a young Harvey with flowing blond hair grinning with his arm slung loosely around the brother, and an old Harvard sweater with 'SPECTER' imprinted over the shoulders hung on the back of an armchair. These personal touches made Mike feel a little like he was intruding in someone else's life, but then again, how else could he describe his situation, and they did also let him relax a little at the idea that there was more to the suave businessman than the detached logic and slightly chilly disposition he had displayed the previous day.

Mike noticed a small folded piece of paper with his name written on it on the coffee table and picked it up, flipping it open to read it.

Mike,

Got called into the firm. I've had Donna rearrange my schedule so I can be home by 3, but you'll have to entertain yourself this morning. We'll lay out some ground rules when I get back, but for now don't touch the stove, don't leave the condo, try not to set anything on fire and don't you dare touch my records. Here's my number – only call in an emergency. There's food in the fridge, DVDs in the cabinet under the TV and the WiFi password is on the bottom of the router.

Enjoy,

Harvey

Mike sighed. It seemed that no matter how many times he asserted how mature he was, Harvey was determined to treat him like a toddler. He walked over to the fridge and perused the contents, pulling out two eggs and a carton of milk. Flicking on the stove with practised ease, he fished a pan out of a draw and set about making a plate of scrambled eggs.

It was past four by the time that the lock rattled and Harvey entered the condo. Mike had rifled through the entirety of the man's film collection and was considerably impressed by his taste, but there were definitely a few classics that were missing. He had perhaps had a small look at the forbidden record collection as well, and couldn't help but be slightly awed by the breadth of the vinyl owned by the man. At the time that the lawyer entered the apartment, however, Mike was curled up on the surprisingly comfy couch, reading through some files on a Pearson Hardman case that he had found on the kitchen counter.

Harvey pulled the door closed behind him with a click and deposited his briefcase by the entrance. Frowning at the pan that Mike had discarded in the sink, he walked into the living room.

'My fault, I guess. I should've checked you could read before leaving you alone with simple written instructions that- Hey, are those my files? They're confidential, Mike, here, give them to me,' Harvey said, reaching over for the papers.

'Sorry, Harvey,' Mike said, 'I didn't know. It didn't say on your note not to read them, so I just-'

'So you did read the note.' Harvey cut in, 'and you decided to use the oven, what, to spite me? Kid, it was just to stop you hurting yourself.'

'That's exactly it! I don't need protecting like that 'cause I'm not a kid. I made some damn good scrambled eggs, as well,' Mike sighed. He was fighting a losing battle, and realised he really didn't want to focus on the fact that, despite the deep injustice of the instructions in Harvey's note, he had completely disobeyed him and wasn't sure how annoyed the man really was, so opted for a drastic change of subject and gestured to the files Harvey had taken from him. 'Is that the case you're working on right now? Is that what you were doing today? How are you going to cut the client without making Pearson Hardman look weak?'

'Yes, that is the case I'm working on right now,' Harvey replied, unshaken by the barrage of questions, 'no, attacking me with a CIA-style interrogation will not distract me from the fact that you… hang on, Mike,' he paused, 'What did you just say to me? Why would I want to cut the Freston Motors? They've been with the firm for years.'

'Oh, I mean, I just kinda assumed you knew,' Mike said, 'the files said that the company came under new management a month ago, bought by Ms. M Carrick. I read an article in my dad's copy of the Times four years ago about a businesswoman with the same name who was dominating the market and had bought shares in some of the biggest companies in the city, including Bratton Gould, and they're the firm representing the opposition, yeah? So I thought it was a bit fishy that the owner of your client would be so involved with the rival firm, and I checked the income figures for Freston Motors and there's a small rise in the monthly income figures on page 23 that's not accounted for in the income sources on page 44, so I thought that perhaps that's a payment from Bratton Gould to keep them involved in the case which has no real substance, I mean, have you looked at it? They're just trying to draw it out to use your time and resources and bring you to your knees just in time for a takeover! But, I reckon, if you dissolve the contract between… am I wrong?' Mike halted his passionate speech at the sight of Harvey's slightly dropped jaw. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble for so long.'

'No, no, Mike. It's fine.' More than that, Harvey thought, it's incredible. He had to shake himself. Mike's ideas had left him speechless, not only because of the expansive knowledge they seemed to exhibit, but also because, when he thought about it, all of his observations were completely viable and yet had been picked up not by the team of Harvard-graduate Pearson Hardman lawyers that had been working hopelessly on the case for days, but instead by a teenage boy from a disadvantaged background.

'Have you been looking at these files all day?' Harvey asked.

'No, Harvey, I swear, I only picked them up like an hour before you came,' Mike replied, 'if I'd known they were properly confidential, I wouldn't have touched them. Sorry.'

'Calm down, Mike, I'm not mad,' Harvey halted the evidently stressed boy, 'I'm… impressed.'

The boy raised his eyes at the praise from the older man.

'Really, kid. Yeah, you looked at something you shouldn't have, but I didn't expressly tell you not to and I'm sorry that I seemed angry about it when I came in. I was just a little stressed, is all, and I think the fact that you just saved Pearson Hardman a whole lot of trouble and money just about makes up for scaring me a little,' Harvey cracked a genuine smile and was relieved when Mike allowed a small one in response. 'Answer one thing for me though; how the hell did you remember a detail as small as that from an article you read four years ago when you were, what, nine years old?'

'It's just how my mind works,' Mike said, tapping the side of his head, 'it's called an eidetic memory. Once I read or hear something, it's stuck in here forever.'

'That's pretty neat.'

'Yeah, I guess. Not always though. There're some things you don't want to remember forever.' Like the knock on the door after so many hours of silence, the squeak of worn out shoes on linoleum flooring as a lawyer made his way into the Ross living room, the detached, almost bored tone Rinaldi's voice held as he delivered the crippling words and the cool pressure of the wooden railings as Mike pressed his forehead against the banister and tried not to cry too loud.

Harvey watched as the boy's eyes glazed over and read the discomfort in his features. For the second time in as many days, he felt a deeply protective urge towards the kid he barely knew, yet again he fervently side-stepped it, opting to move on and try to distract Mike with a different topic.

'Right. I suppose if you're staying here for a while, we better lay out some ground rules,' Harvey said, pulling round a stool so he could sit opposite Mike, 'I suppose I can safely assume that you completely disregarded the rest of the instructions on the sheet and had a good look through my record collection, yes?'

At Mike's nod of assertion, he continued, 'I thought so. That's fine, as long as you make sure your hands are clean before you touch any of them. I don't want sticky fingerprints all over my vinyl.'

Mike frowned. 'I'm not a-'

'Child. I know. Sorry, Mike, I'm just not used to having another person around the house, let alone a ki- young adult like you,' Harvey apologised, 'but despite your apparently complete and unquestionable maturity, we do need some proper rules. First one, you don't go anywhere without telling me. Drop me a text, tell me in person, I don't mind, but I want to know where you are at all times, okay?'

'Kay,' Mike agreed.

'Number two, you don't do anything that could get you hurt. I feel like you wouldn't be the only one in pain if I deliver you back to your Grammy's with an injury.'

'Yeah, I wouldn't envy you,' Mike said.

'No, which is why that's not gonna happen,' Harvey continued, 'three, you don't disobey me. When I tell you to do something, you do it without question. I know I sound like a hardass, but you've got to remember that the reason you're here is so you don't end up doing time in jail and if that means I have to be a hardass to ensure that doesn't happen, I really don't care. Do you understand?'

'Yeah, Harvey, I get it,' Mike replied.

'Good,' Harvey said. 'Last one, you do not lie to me. I don't tolerate lying, simple as. Got it?'

'Got it.'

'Right.' Harvey stood, pushing his stool to the side and striding into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, only to see that the statement that there was 'food in the fridge' on his note to Mike might perhaps have been a bit generous. 'We're ordering in. What do you want?'

Mike seemed to perk up at the suggestion of food.

'Can we get pizza? With stuffed crusts and garlic bread?' He pleaded.

Harvey glanced at the kid, who was reaching maximum excitable puppy levels, and gave in.

'Sure, Mike, why don't you order,' he said, handing over his phone, finding it hard to suppress a grin at how thrilled the boy looked at the gesture. Despite Mike almost constantly professing that Harvey treated him like a child, during their discussion and the exhibition of Mike's brilliant mind he had found it easy to forget just how young the boy was, something that this childlike glee brought to the forefront of his mind. He was beginning to realise just how much weight this kid carried on his shoulders; between the fact that he was an orphan and that he had had to support his grandmother and himself, Mike had a lot to deal with. Harvey thought that, perhaps for one night at least, the boy deserved a break.

When Mike had finished ordering the pizza and Harvey had finished pretending not to hear the extra toppings the he was adding in, Harvey tentatively asked, 'You want to watch a film?'

He was surprised at the odd fear he felt in the space between the question and Mike's reply – it was almost as if he was scared the kid was going to reject his idea, but Mike simply gave a cheerful 'sure' and launched into a multilateral criticism of Harvey's film collection, grounded in the fact that it was lacking all the Star Wars films and that it was 'positively medieval' that he didn't have Netflix.

Soon, the pizza had arrived, and Harvey and Mike were deeply involved in 'Back to the Future', despite the fact that the TV was largely drowned out by their debate over the logistics of the time travel in the film. Harvey was pleased to see that it seemed to have taken the boy's mind away from the darker subjects he had been dwelling on earlier, and he was surprised to find that spending time with the teenager had left him much more relaxed too. They had slipped into a comfortable companionship, exchanging witty comments on the film and friendly banter.

Harvey couldn't help but think that perhaps this unexpected arrangement with Mike might not be as bad as he first thought it would be.