Suits isn't mine. Don't sue.
Author's Note: uh, I don't even know. I think I've officially got writers block on this story. I have a chapter or two past this one, but then I'm stuck. Ish. I keep writing things, and then deciding that they're crappy, and then deleting them. I'll keep trying to power through it, but I sort of feel like it's dragging on not going anywhere. It might be a bit for me to come up with a satisfactory ending.
Harvey spent the next week consciously not watching Mike. Mike came into his office in the mornings, as usual. Harvey piled him with paperwork, as usual. And then Harvey stayed in his office. No strolls through the bullpen when he was trying to figure the wording in a particularly difficult contract. No trolling through the library for the line of case law he needed, and could ask any paralegal or associate to find for him. He didn't even let himself stare out into the direction of Mike's cubicle, lost in thought.
Harvey got a lot done that week. So much, in fact, that he dropped by Mike's cubicle to hand over a new stack of briefs needing proofing at the end of the day on Friday.
"Come on, Harvey," Mike almost whined, "It's been a good week. I have plans tonight!" He pawed through the stack petulantly, muttering to himself.
"Cancel them. That's for tomorrow anyway, I need you tonight," Harvey found himself saying, although he most certainly did not. He frowned at the words hanging between them and Mike went a little pale. Harvey wasn't sure when his mouth had gone traitor, but he was tired of his brain having to play catch up.
"For what?" Mike asked, trying to sound unconcerned. He was not in trouble. He couldn't be, he was sure. Completely sure.
"I heard from a source-"
"Donna heard from a source." Mike couldn't help his interjection. Harvey's frown deepened, though he continued as if Mike hadn't said anything.
"That Zing! Office Supply got blindsided by a lawsuit this morning. Something about a defective printer cartridge. Their annual shareholders meeting happens to be tomorrow. So tonight, there's a party. We're going," Harvey explained, ignoring Mike's loosened tie and open collar. He was rolling with it, again.
"You're taking me schmoozing?" Mike grinned roguishly, "Am I suave enough for that?"
"I'm suave enough for both of us. Go home and get ready, I'm picking you up at 9," Harvey made a shooing motion and Mike shot to his feet to collect his things.
"No Ray?" he asked, hurriedly stuffing files into his bag.
"Last minute, he was booked. I'm getting a car from the club. Would you go, please?"
Mike nodded and scampered off. Harvey resisted the urge to slump into Mike's chair and bang his head against the desk.
At 8:55 there was a knock on Mike's door and he swung it open, bowtie still untied around his neck. Harvey's eyebrows arched. Mike had stopped wondering several unannounced visits ago how Harvey got into the building.
"Since when do you have a tux?" Harvey surveyed his appearance, looking skeptical.
"I rented it," Mike explained, stepping back to let him inside.
"Of course you did," Harvey sighed, "Does it still have last night's prom vomit on it?"
"It's nice," Mike said defensively, struggling with his bowtie in the mirror.
"It'll do," Harvey retorted, spinning Mike by his shoulders and beginning to properly tie his neckwear.
"So, anything I need to know about tonight?" Mike asked, lifting his chin to keep Harvey's knuckles from brushing his jaw. He couldn't do anything about the fingers near his throat though, and he fidgeted compulsively, trying to shake out the tightness in his chest.
"You are seen and not heard, Mike. Zing! is a multibillion dollar company, and this is a multimillion dollar lawsuit. Watch and learn, all right?" Harvey finished Mike's tie and brushed dust from his associates shoulders.
"Wow, two clichés in one go. Tonight must be important," Mike taunted, stepping back of out Harvey's reach and grasping his bag. Harvey gave him a disdainful look.
"I have files!" Mike protested, "I'll leave it in the car."
"Don't wrinkle your jacket," Harvey sniffed, and strode out the door.
So much for seen and not heard. Half an hour into the party, and Mike was laughing with Jack Doland, CEO of Zing! like they were old pals. Harvey tried not to be annoyed, and was then surprised when he realized he wasn't annoyed in the slightest. So why he simultaneously felt a swelling in his chest and a nagging in the back of his head was incomprehensible.
"Sure you netted a hundred bil last year," Mike swigged his beer, "But you're no Staples."
"Where did you find this kid, Specter," Doland laughed heartily into his bourbon, "Thumbing his nose at a hundred billion dollars."
"He tried to sell me pot," Harvey lied smoothly. Doland's laughter redoubled, but there was enough truth in it to lighten the alcohol induced flush in Mike's face. Mike busied himself with his beer as Doland coughed away his chortles.
"Don't think I don't know why you're here, Mr. Specter," Doland eyed Harvey coolly, sipping his drink. Harvey felt Mike go still beside him and he fought the urge to swat him. The kid was so unsubtle.
"Toner cartridges that overheat and violently explode, Mr. Doland? They've caused multiple injuries and an unknown amount of property damage. You're in-house counsel can't handle that, and you know it," Harvey replied evenly. He could feel Mike's eyes on him, and he felt an unpleasant echo of what Mike must've been feeling for weeks.
Doland sighed and downed his drink. The man was a pushover, "When you're right, you're right," he muttered, and set his glass on the bar.
"I'm always right," Harvey informed him without a hint of cockiness. It was simply true.
"I'll have my secretary call and set up a meeting, all right? Keep it to yourself, we're trying to get through the meeting unscathed," Doland clapped Mike on the shoulder with a friendly nod before slipping away.
"It's not illegal to hide this from shareholders? I'm pretty sure it is," Mike asked quietly when Doland was gone.
"We're dancing on it. It'll be all right," Harvey assured him. Mike made a skeptical noise, but didn't press further.
"Do you think it'd be all right if I, um, left?" Mike questioned slowly instead, finding the label on his beer extremely interesting.
"Why?" Harvey found himself querying, instead of just letting him leave. The work part was done, Harvey himself didn't really feel the need to hang around. Too many salespeople.
"I had a date, with this new girl from my building. I canceled it and all, but she said if I got home early I should, you know, swing by." The information spilled out of Mike in a tumble.
"Sounds like a classy young lady," Harvey sniped.
"I helped her carry some boxes when she moved in. She's nice," Mike retorted, trying not to sound sullen.
"Too many details, Mike, I don't care. Go, have fun, remember that stack of files I left on your desk," Harvey finished his scotch and ordered another with just a gesture. Mike blinked at him.
"Go, before I change my mind," Harvey grumbled, and Mike hopped off his bar stool.
"Thanks, Harvey. Uh, should I get my bag out of the car now or...?" Mike drifted off, waiting for Harvey to finish his thought.
"I bring it in Monday, Jesus. Just go," Harvey was glowering now, gripping his glass too tightly.
"Thanks, again." Mike bolted. Harvey couldn't exactly blame him.