Author's Note: I think this is the end, you guys. I didn't write it intending for it to be the end, but when I went back and reread it... It feels finished to me. If you disagree, please let me know. I could definitely write an epilogue for this... See the end for another note, please!

Not Mine. Don't sue.

Mike was bored. He was so bored that at the rate he was going, he'd have every book ever published stored away in his brain by the end of the month.

That might be pushing it a little, but God was he sick of black print on a white page. He was also sick of movies, T.V., the park around the corner, and having lunch with Donna. Not that he didn't love Donna and all, but with her it felt like Pearson-Hardman was a topic totally off limits.

"Donna, I have to tell you something."

The redhead looked up from his refrigerator where she was busy stowing away groceries. Mike was little sick of that too. He was capable of taking himself to the grocery store, but she insisted and Mike had to admit, it was very sweet of her.

"Oh?" Donna quirked an eyebrow, her lips curving in that small smile that meant she knew she was about to hear something juicy.

"Don't be mad," he prefaced, and the smile dropped away. Donna stared at him, waiting silently. She would make no promises about her feelings, that much was obvious.

"I slept with Harvey."

The silence in the apartment was heavy and the weight made Mike fidget.

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to say to that," Donna replied finally, stuffing a box of cereal into a cabinet.

"I don't want you to say anything. Specifically, I mean. Something would be good, though," Mike moved to help her, but her shooing gesture forced him to back off. She was quiet for another long moment while she neatly folded reusable grocery bags.

"Putting aside for a minute the fact that that completely violates the Pearson-Hardman Employee Regulations, why on Earth would you think that was a good idea?" Donna asked finally, her exasperation showing.

"I didn't really think about it. I thought I thought about it, but mostly I just thought about how much I wanted to, and that made it seem like a pretty reasonable idea," Mike admitted, sinking into a seat on the couch. Donna slowly moved to join him, fighting her features into a neutral expression.

"Honestly, considering how many rules and laws Harvey's already broken for you, I shouldn't even be surprised by this. But Jesus, Mike, I thought you were at least smart enough not to have an affair with your boss," she announced finally, and Mike had the dignity to look a little shamefaced.

"It's not an affair," he protested, immediately regretting his use of present tense.

"Is this still going on?" Donna demanded, shifting to glower at him.

"Not... not really. Not since I took my leave. We... uhm, we haven't really been talking," Mike shrugged, attempting nonchalance.

"You haven't spoken to Harvey in three weeks." It wasn't a question. Donna was incredulous.

"More like two-ish. There was one minor mental break on my part where I thought it would be better if I went back to work and didn't have to think about things anymore. He threw me out."

"Mike, you can take a leave of absence from your job, but you don't get to take a leave from the people who care about you. Obviously that concept is foreign to you. Why do you think I've been forcing my way into your apartment every few days for the last three weeks? Because if I didn't you'd never call me. You have to know Harvey's not going to call you," Donna's voice softened a little towards the end, "That's not his way."

"Harvey doesn't care abou-"

Donna silenced him with a look. Mike sighed.

"I know! This is the most messed up my life has been since I started working at Pearson-Hardman, and it's still not even close to how messed up it was before. I just don't have anybody to talk to about this, or about anything anymore, and well shit Donna my grandmother's dead and I'm pretty sure I managed to utterly screw up the only other solid thing in my life." A sudden wave of grief threatened to overwhelm him and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Shit. Shitshitshit. It was unfair that mourning was like this, with mood swings and a growing sense of dread at the knowledge that he wasn't just going to wake up one morning and be fine.

Donna rubbed a hand soothingly up and down Mike's back until he took a deep, steadying breath.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, looking up from his hands. Donna smiled a little indulgently.

"Sure."

Mike was bored again. He'd tossed a paperback over the back of the couch ten minutes before, and he was vaguely aware that the playlist on his iPod had ended, but the thought that he had exactly nothing to do kept him from getting up.

Mike didn't even realize he'd pulled out his phone and dialed until he heard ringing through the speaker.

"What's wrong?" Harvey's voice was thick, and Mike heard a heavy exhalation.

"Nothing, I was just-" There was a distinctive shifting sound in his ear, and it clicked.

"Are you having sex right now?!" Mike sat up straight on his couch, surprised to find he was choking down laughter, "Harvey, did you answer my phone call inside of someone?"

"...No."

"Liar. You asshole, it is amazing sometimes. Seriously. Finish up and call me back," Mike failed to force down all of his giggles and Harvey made an exasperated noise but hung up. Mike smiled fondly at his phone, and decided not to analyze the fact that he wasn't mad. He didn't really have a right to be anyway.

Harvey called him back forty five minutes later.

"I'm not having sex, just so you know," Mike informed him by way of a greeting.

"That's nice. What do you want?" Harvey seemed marginally less concerned than before.

"Nothing."

"So, you called me up at midnight just to chat?"

"I was bored."

"And it only took you three weeks to get bored enough to call me. I'm flattered, really."

"Don't be petty, it doesn't suit you. You know perfectly well why I didn't call you."

"Are we ever going to talk about that, by the way?"

"I'd rather not."

"And I'd rather be prepping for round two, but instead I'm on the phone with you, so you'd better have something interesting to say."

"I'm going to come back to work on Monday."

"Well that is interesting. Don't be late."

"I won't."

"Is that all?" Harvey asked after a long pause.

"What we did was stupid. What I did."

"It wasn't just you. I mean, clearly your attraction to me is no surprise, but I should have handled it better."

"And when you say 'I should've handled it better' what you mean is that you shouldn't have fucked me."

"If you insist on being crass about it, then yes."

"I do."

"You do what?"

"Insist. I feel it's best to just be as blunt about this as possible. That way nobody can misunderstand anything."

"When do I ever misunderstand anything?"

"Only when you do it intentionally."

There was another long silence, and Mike pulled his phone from his ear to see if the call was still connected.

"-Anything to do with what happened?" Mike only caught the second half of Harvey's question as he put his phone back to his ear.

"What?"

Harvey grunted.

"I asked if you taking a leave had anything to do with what happened. Between us."

"Don't give yourself so much credit. I was getting up and putting on a suit every day because that's what adults do, remember? I just... She was all I had left. It's impossible to explain everything she was to me. I couldn't stomach the idea of going to work every day like everything was fine. I'm not allowed to cry in the office, remember?"

"But you're ready now?"

"I'm ready to get back to all the other things in my life that are important, yeah."

"Those things being?"

"Harvey-"

"Those things being?" Harvey repeated, his voice taking on a hard edge.

"My job. All my pro bono cases," Mike sighed, "You."

"All right, Rook," Harvey was satisfied with his inquisition, "I'll see you Monday."

"G'night, Harvey." Mike pressed a button and tossed his phone onto the coffee table. How was it that they always seemed to manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once? Mike smiled ruefully. Probably the same way Harvey managed to look at him and know exactly who he was, without knowing what any of it meant.

Author's Note: Right? I know it's not all wrapped up with a neat little bow, but that's not really my style. I'm messy, and all I think about is subtext.

I could write an epilogue, but I'm not convinced it needs one.