Only Gina is mine. In fact, Gina is me. (We writers, we're self centered. Sometimes we can't help but make cameos.) Don't sue.
Author's Note: I mostly have this plotted out in my head. I don't know how long it will take me to get there. Might be a while.
Reviews are love, dear readers, even the bad ones. I love to bask. Or be told that I suck. Depending on my mood.
Mike had assumed they would just call for a delivery of something greasy that Harvey would later complain about having eaten.
Harvey, on the other hand, had to get out of the office. Thus Mike found himself following Harvey's broad back down a set of crumbling concrete steps into a building Mike wouldn't have believed was a restaurant if it weren't for the flickering neon sign that read "Diner" above the door.
Inside was a sea of haphazard tables, mismatched chairs, and shitty lighting. It was late for lunch, but early for dinner and only a few patrons sat around, sipping coffee from an assortment of cheap mugs. Mike didn't spot any wait staff.
Harvey settled into one of the few booths in the place, tucked in a far corner.
"What is this place?" Mike scanned the menu already laid on the tabletop with distrust.
"Pet project of a restaurateur client. Withhold judgment until the food arrives," Harvey replied, absorbed in the menu.
"Why are you bothering?" A bright eyed waitress with a smirk to rival Harvey's best stepped up to the table, "I already know what you're gonna order, Harvey."
Mike waited for Harvey's steel voiced reply.
"Shut up, Gina, and get me a goddamn beer," Harvey snarked instead, and Mike could hear the laughter in his tone.
"Who's the kid?" Gina asked instead, glancing at Mike appraisingly.
"Kid? Gina, he's older than you. He's my associate, Mike Ross. Mike, this-"
"I need no introduction, Harvey. Don't let him fool you into thinking we do the whole 'Hi! My name is Gina and I'll be your server tonight!' shtick. You want something to drink, or what?" The second half of Gina's interruption was directed at Mike, who was a deer in the headlights.
"He'll have a beer," Harvey snickered. Harvey was snickering. Mike was more thrown by that than by Gina.
"He old enough?" Gina raised her eyebrows, talking to Harvey and looking at Mike.
"As if you've ever carded anyone in your entire life. Beers, Gina," Harvey waved a dismissive hand. Gina whacked her pad against his knuckles, but bustled off.
"What the hell was that?" Mike craned his neck to track Gina into the kitchen, only turning back to face Harvey when he felt a sharp tug on his tie.
"That was Gina. And staring is rude," Harvey commented, running his thumb absently over the cheap silk of Mike's tie before releasing it.
"She seems... interesting." Harvey could tell by the way Mike said it, it was more than a compliment.
"Don't even think about it. She's nineteen, and she would eat you alive," Harvey informed him curtly, "Pick what you want. If you don't know when she gets back, you won't eat."
Mike scanned a menu stocked with comfort food and little else. Chicken pot pie, meatloaf and mashed potatoes, fettuccini Alfredo, beef stroganoff, turkey tetrazzini, lasagna, macaroni and cheese... it went on and on.
"Beers," Gina reappeared, sloshing two pint glasses full of something darker than Mike's usual taste in front of them.
"Harvey, stuffed peppers, garlic bread, and cheese fries?" Gina lifted her brows again, and Harvey nodded, sipping is beer.
"Cheese fries?" Mike echoed, his voice something akin to aghast. Since when did Harvey's refined palate crave stuffed peppers paired with cheese fries?
"You, kid," Gina nodded at him, "Well?"
"Can I get the Alfredo with Rosa sauce?" Mike asked and Harvey almost choked on his beer.
"Are you seriously going off menu right now? Harvey, what the hell did you bring me?" Gina's arms dropped to her sides as she glared at Harvey, exasperated. Harvey grinned at her.
"Fine," her eyes narrowed, "But only because it's you." She whirled on Mike "Next time, you pick one of the thirty things actually on the menu." She wagged a finger at him, and vanished once again.
Mike took a big gulp of his beer. And then a second, much slower sip.
"Holy shit, Harvey," Mike squinted at his beer as if he'd find an ingredient label if he looked hard enough.
"House microbrew," Harvey returned distantly, one long finger tapping in the puddle of condensation forming at the base of his glass. Mike was oblivious to the eyes on him as he held his glass up to the light, thoroughly intrigued.
"Quit gawking and drink it," Harvey grumbled, realizing he'd spent the last few minutes staring at Mike's open mouth. Mike grinned, took a long draught of his beer, and opened his mouth to reply.
"Cheese fries," Gina interrupted, dumping a plate at the center of the table. She was gone before Mike could thank her.
"She still mad about the sauce thing?"
"Oh yeah. You'll never live it down," Harvey scoffed, pulling a long strand of melted cheese away from his fries. Mike reached, and Harvey swatted his hand away.
"If you wanted some, you should've ordered them."
"You're not going to eat all that, come on," Mike protested, slim fingers scurrying across the table again.
"Fine," Harvey acquiesced begrudgingly. He chewed a little sullenly and then swallowed too quickly as he coughed, met with the sight of Mike tipping his head back to pull a thread of cheese into his mouth, teeth scraping over his lower lip.
"So. Good," Mike declared, and commenced to devour half the plate.
"Have you taken him out in public before?" Gina asked, placing Harvey's plate in front of him carefully while she dribbled a fair bit of steaming pasta sauce off Mike's dish and into his lap with her other hand.
"Hardly," Harvey admitted as Mike scrambled against the wall of the booth, grabbing for his napkin and trying not to yelp.
"Enjoy." She sauntered away.
"She's like Donna," Mike was in awe even as he dabbed at his pants, "Only without the stuffy corporate job to reign her in. She's magnificent."
"Don't ever let Donna hear you say that," Harvey advised mildly, caught by the slight blush across Mike's cheeks. Mike didn't notice or answer as he tucked into his food.
"Oh, my God," Mike sat back for a half a second, swallowed with a satisfied sound, and pinged forward again.
"This is friggin' amazing," he managed around a mouthful of pasta, and didn't lift his head again. He was nearly finished when he finally noticed the hair tickling on the back of his neck. That heart chilling feeling that said he was being looked at. Studied.
His jaw stilled and he forced down a suddenly rubbery chunk of pasta. He took a moment to brace himself before casting a darting glance around the restaurant. The place was almost entirely empty, and it took a minute for Mike's gaze to come to rest on Harvey. Harvey, who was staring at him with a faraway look in his eyes, food untouched.
Harvey didn't notice Mike staring back at him for what felt to Mike like eternity.
"Starship Enterprise to Capitan Specter?" Mike tried weakly, "We're adrift, sir."
At least one section of Mike's brain was running through the symptoms of heart palpitations.
Harvey snapped out of it.
"What?" he questioned coldly as he picked up his fork.
"You," Mike breathed.
"Me what?" Harvey huffed.
"You, with the staring. Did I do something wrong?" Mike's spectacular mind made a spectacular leap in logic, "Or have you just been waiting for me to screw up?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harvey denied flatly. Just like he denied the tug low in his gut as Mike's tongue flicked out of his mouth to swipe a rogue drop of sauce.
"You were watching me, just now. Just like you've been watching me all week. Which you tried to convince me wasn't happening. Am I in trouble?" Mike tried to keep his tone light, but his mind was busy compiling a list of all the things he'd done recently that Harvey could potentially be pissed off about. The fact that he couldn't come up with anything to warrant this level of inquiry only made him more nervous.
"No," Harvey retorted unequivocally, and did not elaborate past "Finish your food, we have work back at the office."
"Yeah, of course. Of course."
Mike toyed with his pasta until Harvey couldn't choke down another bite. He did drain his fourth beer without incident, making Mike look up hopefully.
"Let's go," Harvey dropped a tip on the table and stood. Mike wisely chose not to ask about the rest of the bill.