Wahey! We've finally reached the end of the poorly disguised exposition! After this chapter we can move on to more domestic Mike and Harvey, and of course I've got some sick Mike and hurt Mike on the horizon (would it be a Suits fanfic if I didn't?). I'm awfully sorry that I took so long to update, and apologies for any grammatical errors - I gave this a very sleepy proof read because I wanted to get it published for you as soon as possible. Anyway, thank you for dropping by and I'd be eternally grateful if you could hit me with a review, if you feel like it.

Sorry in advance for the ridiculous amount of line breaks, and I hope you enjoy!

The next day passed without incident. It was a Friday, so Harvey went to the firm again, but this time Mike woke before he left, and they sat eating breakfast together as Harvey read through the newspaper and Mike filled in the torn out cryptic crossword.

The kid was a fidgeter. Five minutes of sitting together and Harvey could feel himself being driven to the edge of insanity by the boy's restless hands, one minute drumming out a rhythm with his knife and fork and the next spinning the salt and pepper towards each other across the table in some sort of pseudo-battle to see which one was knocked over first. Harvey had finally lost his patience when the salt had skittered across the table into his lap, and, shooting an angry look at the sheepish boy, had flicked to the back page of the newspaper and ripped out the crossword. Mike had looked slightly surprised when Harvey had placed it in front of him, but had accepted the pen he was offered and made a start on it, glad for something to do.

Harvey soon found himself captivated by the speed and skill with which Mike attacked the mental puzzle. It was the advanced crossword from the end of the 'brain-teasers' section and had a 45 minute time suggestion, yet the thirteen year-old was making quick work of it. His eyes flitted across the clues, and every few seconds his hand would dart over the paper and fill out a series of boxes with neat printed capitals. God, the kid must be such an overachiever at school. Shit, Harvey thought, school.

'Mike,' he said, suddenly slightly terrified that he was unknowingly promoting truancy, 'aren't you meant to be at school?'

Mike looked up at Harvey and gave a small grin.

'Relax, Harvey,' he said, 'I don't go back 'til August 28th. That's another week. Don't worry, though, I'm sure you'll manage to completely fail as a responsible guardian in some other way.'

'Funny, kid.' Harvey replied, honestly relieved. He didn't want to find out what Edith Ross would have to say if he had actually allowed her grandson to skip school.

Putting down his empty mug of coffee, he stood up and said, 'I'm off. If you need a lift anywhere, Ray's number is on the fridge. Be good.'

With that, he pulled on his jacket and left the condo, grabbing his briefcase on the way out, leaving Mike to his crossword and cereal.

Harvey got home just in time to catch the Mets game on TV. Mike wasn't really a baseball guy himself, but he had to say there was something entertaining about the usually composed businessmen sitting on the edge of his seat, shouting passionately at the screen as if it was a matter of life and death.

They ordered food in again, Chinese this time at Harvey's insistence that he was a growing boy and had to have a somewhat balanced diet that didn't consist solely of pizza. As they sat on Harvey's couches, picking over the remains of the takeaway, Harvey answered all of Mike's questions about how the Freston Motors case went down. It had turned out that the boy had been completely right, which had been verified when they'd subpoenaed Bratton Gould's payment records. Jessica had been pleased with Harvey's work, and more than impressed when she found out it was the product of a young teenager's mind.

'She wants to meet you,' Harvey said, 'honestly, I think she likes you more than me and she doesn't even know you.'

Mike grinned, leaning back on the chair. 'That's not hard. I can't help being lovable and precocious.'

Harvey gave a chuckle before noticing the time.

'Right,' he said, 'shower and bed, Mike.'

'What? It's only half ten!'

'Exactly,' Harvey replied, 'you're not getting a lie in tomorrow. I've got to go into the firm at lunch and we need to go shopping before that, but I don't want to take away from your beauty sleep. That means bed, now.'

'Fine,' Mike said, pushing himself up off the sofa, 'but I'm not the one that needs beauty sleep, old man.'

'Watch it, kid,' Harvey laughed, clearing away the takeaway boxes. He wasn't sure whether it was because he pitied Mike, or because he simply enjoyed the boy's company and wit, but he tolerated their banter to an uncharacteristic extent; he would have crucified anyone else had they spoken to him in the same way.

An incessant banging drilled its way into Mike's head, pulling him from sleep with a jolt. Bleary eyed, he rolled out of bed and listened. The noise ceased, and at the sound of muffled voices carrying a distinctly argumentative tone, he realised that it must have been someone knocking on the front door. Pressing his ear to the wood of his bedroom door, he could just about discern what was being said.

'…doesn't look like a kid lives here.'

'What do you want to see? Toys everywhere? A diaper changing station? He's thirteen, not three.'

'Look, unless the boy's actually here, there's fair grounds to bring you in for questioning.'

'You really want me to go in there and wake Mike up just so you can get a good look at him?'

Mike sighed and rubbed his eyes, trying to look as sleepy and confused as possible as he pushed open the bedroom door.

'What's going on?' he asked.

'Nothing, son,' Harvey answered, 'these gentlemen were just about to leave.'

Both officers were staring gormlessly at the pair, looking suitably stunned. It was evident that they'd expected there to be no substance to Harvey's claim about his relationship to Mike, and they were clearly shocked to see him in Harvey's apartment in the middle of the night.

Mike padded over to Harvey, who placed a firm hand on the back of the boy's neck and drew him in to stand against his side, naturally assuming the same protective position that he had days before during their first confrontation with the policemen. They remained like that, waiting for the cops to respond, the lawyer directing an unrelenting frosty glare at the two men.

The older cop, Archie, finally broke the silence.

'Mr Specter, I'm impressed,' he said, showing his teeth in a leery grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, 'your foresight is admirable in arranging for the boy to stay with you. It still doesn't quite add up, though, I'm afraid. Our investigative branch found records showing that Mr Ross lives with his grandmother, not you. In fact, there's no mention of you on any documents pertaining to Mike Ross. Anywhere. How do you explain that, Mr Specter?'

Mike was starting to feel a little sick. Up until now, he had had every faith that Harvey 'talented' 'untouchable' 'high-flying corporate lawyer' Specter would be able to make everything okay again, and that life would be back to normal in no time, yet he was beginning to realise that even Harvey could hardly protect him from an organisation as vast as the police force. The thought that he would likely be in juvie before the end of the month made him feel queasy, and he swayed a little on his feet, trying desperately to hide his nerves from their guests.

Harvey picking up on Mike's paling complexion and gave the back of the boy's neck a steadying squeeze. He felt bad for the kid, but he couldn't have him fainting at the slightest hint of an interrogative tone. There was no need for him to panic, anyway; if Harvey had learnt one thing in his career as a lawyer, it was how to lie well.

'You're right. Mike was living with his Grammy, until about three weeks ago,' he said, 'Edith Ross is a friend of a friend, so I'd met Mike a few times during his childhood. A few weeks back, I bumped into mine and Edith's mutual friend and found out that she'd broken her leg and was struggling to look after Mike, so I offered to take him in.'

'Quite the Good Samaritan, are you, Mr Specter?' the older policeman, Archie, drawled.

'Not at all,' Harvey replied, forcing a smile, 'just helping out a friend. I'm under no illusions about my happy financial situation – why would I not extend a hand to someone not quite as fortunate? I'm sure you would do the same.'

'And so, after a few weeks of living together, it's all happy families?' the cop said, frowning, 'you've twice addressed him as your son and yet from what you've said, you've properly known him for less than a month.'

'That's the basis of your argument? I can't explain why the kid and I clicked,' Harvey said, his tone growing more aggressive, 'maybe dormant paternal instincts? I don't know, but we did, and I see him as a son. Now, he's tired and so am I, so I'd really appreciate it if you'd kindly get the hell out of my home.'

The younger cop backed off a step at the hostile growl that Harvey's last few words had taken on. He was clearly Archie's subordinate and from his complete silence throughout the interrogation, Harvey could tell he was pretty terrified. However, despite the pleading looks he was giving his superior, the older man did not back down.

'Look, Mr Specter, cut the crap. Our background checks on the kid may have come up squeaky clean, but our informant gave a description of the runner on the drug op that matches pretty flawlessly up with your boy here,' he said. The unsettling smile was long forgotten, and open enmity was written across his face.

Harvey forced a laugh.

'Ah, of course, officer,' he said, 'because there is a shortage of yea-high teenage boys with light brown hair in New York City.'

'This is no joke, Mr Specter,' Archie said. Sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and continued, 'look, this case is being shelved, but it'll be reviewed in 90 days and I'll be back. If the kid isn't calling you Pops and playing baseball with you, it's not only him that'll be facing jail time. Perverting the course of justice is no petty crime, sir.'

Harvey didn't miss Mike blanching at '90 days'. The poor kid must've felt like a prison sentence would've been more enjoyable than spending almost three months with him.

'90 days. Fine,' he ground out, 'now get out of my apartment or you'll be the ones facing goddamn charges – harassment. Leave.'

Archie flashed his sickly grin and turned, walking out the open front door with George following at his heels. Harvey watched them leave, before giving Mike's shoulder a small squeeze and releasing him from his grip.

'Get some sleep, Mike,' he said, 'we'll talk in the morning.'

Harvey was pulled from a restless sleep by faint footsteps on his bedroom floor. Groggily propping himself up on his elbows, he recognised the silhouette of the thirteen-year old framed in the doorway and sighed. He was too tired for this.

'Harvey,' Mike said in a small voice, 'Harvey, I can't sleep.'

'What do you expect me to do about it?' he snapped, 'Do I look like the damn sandman?'

Mike's eyes widened and he stepped back.

'I don't know, I just… I'm sorry,' the boy said, his gaze directed at the floor.

Harvey sighed again. He had regretted the harsh words as soon as they left his mouth – he was undeniably a prick when his sleep was interrupted, but there was usually no one else around to be on the receiving end of his aggravation.

Running a hand through his hair, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and said, 'No, Mike, I'm sorry. Let's go back to your room and we'll figure out some way to help you get to sleep.'

'Don't make a habit of this, though,' he continued, adopting a sterner tone, 'I'm making a concession today because you've had an eventful night. It won't happen again. You're thirteen; that's too old to come into my room at two in the morning because you can't sleep.'

'I'm not,' Mike said under his breath.

'What did you just say to me?'

'I'm not. Thirteen,' Mike repeated, a little louder, 'it's my birthday.'

'Jesus, kid,' Harvey said, flipping on the lights, 'why didn't you say?'

Mike gave a small shrug and fixed his eyes on the floor. Once again, Harvey sighed. This was going to be a long night.

He gently took the boy by the shoulders and spun him round, propelling him towards his bedroom.

'Bed,' he instructed, drawing over the armchair from the corner whilst Mike climbed under his covers. 'Right. Talk to me,' he said, seating himself next to Mike's bed, 'why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?'

'I don't know,' Mike said, 'I just didn't really want to bother you.'

Harvey frowned. 'You didn't want to bother me? With the fact that it's your birthday?'

'Yeah,' Mike said, 'it's not like it's anything special. Great, I'm one year older. Why would you care?'

'Why would I care?' Harvey repeated incredulously, 'Mike, whatever way you look at it, you are still legally a kid. It's your prerogative to have a fun birthday and it should be something special. As to why I would care – kid, it looks like you're going to be sticking around here for a while,' Harvey didn't miss Mike's wince at this statement, 'and that means you need to come to me with stuff like this, because even though it might not seem like it, I do ca… feel responsible for your wellbeing. Got it?'

'Yeah.'

'Good. What do you usually do for your birthday, then? Have a party?' Harvey asked.

'I… no,' Mike said. He hadn't had a real birthday party since before his parents had died, and he really didn't believe that any of his school 'friends' would want to spend the day with him. Most of them rarely acknowledged his existence, and even Trevor, who was ostensibly his closest friend, had completely ignored him since he'd messed up the drug run. 'I usually just catch a film or something with Grammy.'

'Alright, well that can easily be arranged,' Harvey said, quietly grateful that the kid didn't want anything too big, 'We can spend tomorrow morning however you want, and then I'll take you over to your Grammy's after lunch and pick you up when you're done. That sound good?'

'I mean, yeah, that would be great, Harvey,' Mike said, 'but you've got to go into the firm at lunch.'

'That can wait. It's your birthday, Mike, they don't come around too often,' Harvey said, the evident surprise on Mike's face stirring something like sadness in his gut. The kid obviously hadn't expected him to change his work plans for his birthday. Harvey was not a soft man, but he was receptive enough to emotion to find the boy's low expectations slightly hurtful. Raising Mike's opinion of him would take some time, but at least that was something the two of them were not short of now, it seemed.

'Thanks, Harvey,' Mike said.

'It's alright, kiddo,' said the older man, leaning back in his chair, 'I think it's time for you to try and get to sleep. You can barely keep your eyes open. Is there anything I can do that'll help?'

Mike frowned. He wasn't all too happy with the progression to 'kiddo', especially considering the fact that he had been a teenager for a whole year now, but he had to admit he was beginning to feel a little sleepy. Pulling his covers up to his chin, he considered Harvey's question. It suddenly occurred to him what had helped him sleep when he was younger, and he mumbled his response, his ears blushing red as he tripped over his words.

'What was that, Mike?' Harvey asked, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

'Could you… could you maybe tell me a story?' Mike asked. At Harvey's lack of response, Mike panicked. 'Sorry, I shouldn't have asked, I know it's childish, my dad just used to do it when I was little and couldn't sleep and then my Grammy did it after he… after he couldn't anymore and it just really helped but I'm sorry, Harvey, you don't have to do it. Look, it's fine, I'm basically already asleep, you can leave now, sorry for waking you up. Night.'

'Hold it, Mike, I'm not going anywhere.' Harvey had been a little caught off guard by Mike's request, but like he'd said earlier, the kid had had a difficult night and he was more than happy to oblige if it would make him feel a little more comfortable. 'What kind of story?'

Mike, who's eyes had been had been firmly trained downwards, raised his head and met Harvey's gaze, surprise displayed once again on his features.

'Could you tell me a story from when you were younger? Like, from law school or when you were a kid?' he asked.

'Sure,' Harvey said, relieved by the simplicity of the request. To construct a fantasy story at half two in the morning would have been a little beyond his abilities, but he could manage a tale from his youth. 'Let me see… when I was eleven, me and my brother, Marcus, ended up in trouble with the police. Will that do?'

'You were in trouble with the police when you were eleven? Why?'

'I'll take that as a yes,' Harvey chuckled. As he recounted the event from his childhood, Mike's eyelids drooped more and more heavily, until Harvey realised that the boy had finally fallen asleep. In sleep, Mike looked much younger than he really was, his face completely unguarded and peaceful. Harvey reached over and surreptitiously brushed a few strands of sandy hair off the kid's forehead, before raising himself from his chair as silently as possible and exiting the room.

Mike rested his head against the cool leather of the front seat of the vintage Mustang. It was Ray's day off, so Harvey was sat in the driver's seat next to him. A breeze ruffled his hair as they drove through the streets towards his Grammy's apartment with the roof of the car down. Watching the interminable rows of buildings flit past, Mike realised he could conclusively say that this was turning out to be his best birthday since his parents had passed away. He couldn't fault his Grammy's efforts to make his birthdays enjoyable, but she had had to pick up awkward shifts as a cleaner to support them both, meaning he'd spend the majority of his 'special day' alone, waiting for her to come home.

Today, though, he'd woken up to the smell of cooking and traipsed sleepily out of his room to find Harvey leaning over the hob in an apron, making pancakes.

'I didn't know what to make for you,' he'd said, 'but judging by your fondness for flat, round foods I figured pancakes were a safe bet.'

'I didn't have you pegged as the domestic type, Harvey' Mike had said with a smile, to which Harvey had grumbled something about 'birthdays not being a free pass to be a smartass' and shoved a plate of pancakes in his direction.

After breakfast, they'd gone food and (despite Mike's vehement protestations) clothes shopping. Apparently three tees, one hoodie and a pair of jeans didn't qualify as a suitable wardrobe in Harvey's opinion. After an hour, Harvey deemed Mike's new assortment of clothes satisfactory. He'd let Mike choose a restaurant for lunch, and, unsurprisingly, they'd ended up in a pizza place. Despite a small and irrational fear that lingered in the back of his mind that Harvey was going to get a call from the office and disappear on him, Mike had had a genuinely good day.

The midday traffic wasn't too bad and Mike and Harvey were soon sitting inside his grandmother's flat. Harvey had made the mistake of hovering in the doorway to tell Mike what time he'd be back to pick him up, and Edith had spotted him and 'invited' him in rather forcefully and plied him with tea and biscuits. Harvey hadn't wanted to impose on Mike's birthday plans with his Grammy, but the boy had seemed more than happy for him to stay and he now found himself seated on her flowery couch watching the original Casino Royale, sandwiched between the two Rosses.

Both of them had clearly watched the film many times, and between Mike's entertaining commentary and Edith's apparent wealth of stories from her youth that were loosely connected to the film, Harvey found himself quite enjoying the afternoon. As the remains of the 'Hotel Splendide' blasted across the screen and the end credits began to roll, he felt something bordering on regret that the movie was over.

Edith leant over, gently carding her fingers through her grandson's hair, and said, 'It's getting late. You two boys should probably be off soon.'

'Aw, but, Grammy-'

'No buts, Michael. As much as I want to keep you here forever, you'll get caught up in traffic if you don't leave soon and you should be getting home before sundown.'

Mike raised his eyes at the reference to Harvey's place as home. He cast an appraising glance over his grandmother, who was smiling slightly, and realised that Harvey must have filled her in via email about the situation with the cops. He felt as if a small weight had been shifted from his shoulders; he'd had a good afternoon, but lingering in the back of his mind had been the question of how to approach the subject with Grammy, and he was glad that Harvey had apparently beat him to it. The idea of inconveniencing the imposing lawyer for another 90 days was daunting enough in itself, and he was relieved that his Grammy seemed to be trying to make things feel a normal as possible.

'Your Grammy's right, Mike,' Harvey said, standing up, 'we better get going.'

Mike reluctantly pushed himself up off the couch. 'I bet James Bond gets to decide when and where he goes places,' he said, pulling on his jacket.

'You think yourself Bond, then?' Harvey said, 'which would make me, who, M? Bond's superior. Say bye to your grandmother.'

Mike leant over to let Edith kiss his forehead and walked over to where Harvey was waiting in the doorway. Grinning, he said, 'Maybe M officially has more authority than Bond, but everyone knows Bond is superior in everything but name. I mean, look at the guy! He's more impressive physically and mentally, plus he's way cooler-'

'All very nice, kid,' Harvey cut him off, holding open the front door, 'but remember in this situation, M's the one with the money to buy the pizza Bond will no doubt ask for despite the fact he already had some for lunch. Let's go.'

Mike shot a sheepish smile at the older man and ducked under his arm through the doorway, muttering, 'He's still cooler.'

Mike fought to suppress a yawn as the front door clicked shut, signalling Harvey's return. The man had stepped outside (with Mike's permission) an hour earlier to take a work call, leaving Mike alone with the remnants of their pizza and monopoly over his film collection. It was pushing half eleven, and despite his resolution that he would stay awake for all of his birthday, Mike was beginning to feel pretty tired as a result of his lack of sleep the night before.

Turning to face Harvey, his sleepy eyes widened at the small stack of neatly wrapped objects in the man's arms.

'Harvey?' He said, confused.

'Yeah, I might've lied about the phone call,' the lawyer replied, hanging up his coat, 'how else was I meant to find time to get these with the whole self-sacrificing 'let's not tell Harvey it's my birthday' stunt you pulled?'

'What are they?'

Harvey shook his head at the boy's bewildered tone.

'Presents, Mike. For your birthday.'

'They're for me?' Mike asked, still taken aback. 'Harvey, you really didn't need to-'

'Shut it, kid,' Harvey said, dropping the small pile into Mike's lap and sitting next to him, 'here, open them before I regret buying them.'

There were four presents, all identically wrapped in simple brown paper. Three of them were clearly books, two thick tomes and one much thinner volume, and the other was a small square box. Mike started with the thinnest book, and gave a small laugh when he saw the title - 'Cryptic crosswords: 2017 world championships selection'.

'I figured those ones would take you more than ten minutes,' Harvey said.

He unwrapped the two larger books next. Both were introductory law books, second hand, but as Mike flicked through them he noticed 'Harvey R. Specter' scrawled in the covers of both and fastidious notes in the same hand in the margins of every page.

'Harvey, I-'

'I would've bought you brand new ones, but it's not as if I use these anymore,' Harvey said, 'If you don't want them, just say. I won't be offended. I just thought you might be interested in law, judging by the way you picked up my case file for a bit of light reading.'

'No, Harvey, I'm really grateful,' Mike said, 'I… I've always wanted to be a lawyer.'

'And you'll make a good one, one day. One more gift to go, Mike,' Harvey said, pushing the final box towards the boy. Mike accepted the present, carefully unwrapping the paper and removing it. He gently pulled the lid off the plain white box it revealed, and lifted out the watch he found inside.

It had a simple brown leather strap with white threading. The case and bezel were silver, and a tiny green stone sat in the crown. The face was a muted grey with white numerals and hands, and three chronograph subdials were set in the centre of the face in a glossy black. Despite the intricate details, the watch had beautifully minimalistic air, and Mike stared at it in awe.

'Turn it over,' Harvey said. Mike did so, tracing his fingers over the italicised letters he found engraved on the back; 'Michael James Ross'.

'I don't know what to say,' he said. He hadn't expected Harvey to buy him any presents, yet alone an expensive watch.

'My father gave me a watch for my fourteenth birthday, so it seemed right,' Harvey said, lifting his left sleeve so Mike could see his own wristwatch, 'Mike, you've got to accept that I'm not going anywhere. You wear your heart on your sleeve, kid – I've seen your shock each time I've done something mildly kind for you. I might seem cold, but I'm no monster. I made a conscious decision on the day you arrived in my office; I knew what I was getting myself into from the moment I told the cops you were my boy, and I was, and still am, more than willing to deal with it. You are not an inconvenience, Mike, and you've got to stop acting like you are. You're not in this alone, son. We're going to get through the next 89 days together, and I hope the watch can be a reminder that I'm in this for the long run.'

Harvey gently took the watch from the hands of the speechless boy and placed it on his left wrist, doing up the clasp, and then sat back. He was aware he'd given Mike a lot to think about, and wasn't sure how he'd respond, but he definitely hadn't anticipated the fierce hug that the boy accosted him with.

'I'm not really a hugger, kid,' Harvey choked out.

'I know.'