Title: Chance Meetings

Author: Razorbackgal0225

Rating: PG-13-A little language, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, laws or situations from Suits, but I sure wish I did. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! I'm glad people are enjoying reading as much as I am writing this! However, please don't get used to this speed of updating! I've been on a roll, but I don't know that it will stay this way. I'll do my best! Please continue to let me know what you think. Additional note: any football opinions stated in this installment are entirely my own and not meant to offend anyone

The Fifth Time

It was supposed to be a nice, relaxing, fun Sunday afternoon. My younger brother had made the four hour drive from law school to New York for the first home Giants game of the year. Growing up in Arkansas, neither of us had a favorite NFL team, so when I moved to New York after college, the entire family adopted the Giants. Almost ten years later, we were die-hard, go-to-every-game-possible, fans. For three years running, my brother and I had been at the first home game of the season, no matter what was going on with either my work or his school. It was one of my favorite days of the year and I was prepared to enjoy it.

The Giants were ahead after a quarter, and we decided we needed snacks and drinks. We left our seats and were in the epically long concession stand line when we, as usual, we started arguing.

"I'm just saying, if I was them, I would consider trading him now," my brother stated, "This way, you get as much out of him as you possibly can before every other team realizes he can't play quarterback. There's got to be a few teams out there that would take a flyer on him."

"But it's only his second year," I countered. "And four weeks ago, Kyle Orton was on the trading block. They obviously haven't given up on him yet. He's had way too much playing time in the pre-season games for the Broncos to not keep him at least as the back-up."

"There's no way anyone can turn Tim Tebow into an NFL quarterback. No way. I watched him play way too much in college to believe that it's going to happen," he debated. "And I know you feel the same way, you're just sticking up for him because he's 'such a nice guy." When he said the last phrase, his voice went two octaves higher, his age-old imitation on me.

I frowned at him, contemplating whether I had any chance at kicking his ass still. It had been years since I had any kind of physical advantage, but maybe if he didn't see it coming and maybe since we were in public, I might get a few hits in. "You're still mad that ESPN handed him the Heisman that year over McFadden," I shot back, deciding against violence for now. He did outweigh me by quite a bit and had at least six inches on me.

"That was a sham vote and you know it." As we were both University of Arkansas graduates, it was a bit of a sore spot, with both of us.

"I'm not agreeing with Denver picking him twentieth in the draft; that was a mistake. I just think it's early to declare him a bust and try to ship him off for a couple of second round draft picks. And I don't think the Broncos are ready to admit they were wrong."

"He was actually picked twenty-fifth," a new voice chimed in our conversation/fight, correcting me at the same time my brother did. I was shocked that someone had been listening to us talk enough to know what we were discussing. And that anyone was ballsy enough to correct a complete stranger. Well, that is, until my brain processed the smooth baritone voice that had interrupted us, which happened right before the man in front of me turned around.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered to myself, as Harvey Specter smirked from the line in front of me. I felt my brother tense up beside me, probably hearing my comment and thinking Harvey wasn't a friend. Which he wasn't exactly, but I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. So, I put on my best smile and greeted him. "Mr. Specter."

"Ms. Walker," he replied, still with the smirk. Then I noticed his attire.

"You're not wearing a suit," I blurted out, without even thinking of the consequences. I was amazed to see him in anything but a three-piece custom made suit. Instead he was wearing what I guessed were still custom-tailored jeans and a black button-down shirt…that wasn't tucked in. His hair, while still slicked back, wasn't quite as severe as normal, giving him a more relaxed look. And an extremely attractive look. I almost gaped in disbelief and awe.

"And you're wearing another t-shirt," he answered, grinning again. I glance down at my outfit, which was perfectly acceptable for a football game. My Giants t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes had looked cute to me when I left my apartment earlier, but now I felt a little underdressed. But I most certainly wasn't going to let him know that.

"Well it is a ballgame," I said.

"That it is. And you were right, it is too early for the Broncos to give up on Tebow. He needs to be a backup for a couple of years and get his throwing motion under control." With his response, I wanted to gloat to my brother that someone agreed with me, but was still trying to process this casual version of Harvey that apparently liked football as much as I did. Thinking of my brother did however, remind me of my manners.

"Oh, sorry, Harvey Specter, this is my brother, Mason Walker. Mason, Harvey Specter, closer extraordinaire," I introduced the two men, hoping my sarcasm was noted in the title I bestowed upon him. From the grin he gave me as he extended his hand to Mason, it was.

"Nice to meet you Mason," he said as the two shook hands.

"Specter. Not the same Harvey Specter that was the attorney for Lauren Foster in her case against Brown Industries?" Mason asked. I turned to my brother, confused. The last time I heard anything near that particular tone of voice from him had been when we ran into Troy Aikman in the Dallas airport.

"Yes, that was me. You're a little young to remember something like that, aren't you?"

"We studied that case in Civil Procedure my first year in law school. It's a pleasure to meet you sir," Mason answered, a little too excited for my liking. I rolled my eyes, something I was doing a lot around Harvey. He at least waited until Harvey was finished ordering at the concession stand before continuing, "Your defense against Brown was amazing. I actually used some of your tactics in my mock trial class last year."

"Glad to know my work is still memorable." The look Harvey gave me was filled with pure arrogance and pride. I tried not to look impressed. "Where do you go to school?"

"Harvard, just started third year."

"Well, good luck to you. Professor Harding is a complete asshole, but you'll learn a lot from him," Harvey said as he picked up his tray. "And don't give your sister a hard time just because she couldn't remember when Tebow was drafted." I was shaking my head and half-smiling before I could stop it. Of course he didn't mention the fact that I was only five off. "Ms. Walker," he smiled at me one more time before heading back to what I somehow knew would be incredible seats.

I was thankful that the distraction of ordering my beer and hotdog prevented me from watching him walk away. I certainly didn't want to get caught staring at him and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would catch me. Thankfully I didn't have to worry about that.

"I don't know whether to get all brotherly and pissed that a dude was checking out your ass as he left or think you're awesome because Harvey freaking Specter was checking out your ass," Mason whispered to me, as if the man in question might hear us talking again. "Sis, he's a legend at Harvard! I can't believe you didn't say anything about knowing him."

"I don't know him," I muttered back. "I've worked on a couple of projects for him. He's kind of a pompous ass, in case you didn't pick up on that. And he was not checking me out, don't be ridiculous." Mason paused a minute, looking at me strangely enough that I finally snapped. "What?"

He broke into a full-fledged grin. "You have a thing for him! You're doing your whole avoiding the issue thing you always do when you like someone."

My mouth fell open in shock, at both his declaration and at the fact that my brother paid attention to that sort of thing. "What! That's ridiculous. Mason, he doesn't even know my first name. He thinks I'm a cross between a flake and his own personal accountant slash slave. I do not have a thing for him!" I picked up my order, expecting him to answer. When he didn't, I braved a glance in his direction. He was still laughing. I gave in, knowing this conversation wouldn't end until I did. "Okay, I might have a tiny, microscopic thing for him, but that's it. And for God's sake don't say anything about it. I just think he's kinda hot, that's all."

"Your secret's safe with me, Sis," he replied. "Far be it from me to point out that he's exactly the cocky, alpha male type that you always go for." I clenched my jaw and stormed off, as Mason reveled in his joke at my expense on our way back to our seats. Unconsciously, I kept an eye out for Harvey, hoping to catch another glimpse of him, even as I watched the game. I found him, sometime during the second half. His seats were practically on the field, about three sections below ours. And he wasn't alone.

The girl with him was decidedly not wearing a t-shirt and jeans; I doubted she even owned those articles of clothing. She was tall, thin and gorgeous, in a simple shift dress that screamed expensive. I looked down at my own outfit, once again feeling ridiculously underdressed. I didn't hide my reaction or the direction of my stare very well, because Mason commented a minute later, "She looks really high maintenance and kinda bitchy if that helps any, Sis." I was grateful that he didn't mention how pretty she was.

I shook off my sad feeling and smiled at my brother. "I think that's enough touchy feely for today. We're here for football, not talking about my non-existent love life." He grinned back at me and we turned our attention back to the game. I made a point to not look in Harvey's direction again the entire afternoon, but that didn't stop me from thinking about him and the beautiful girl with him. Even though I had known it, I didn't enjoy having the fact that he was out of my league and that I wasn't his type on quite so obvious a display. But, I thought, at least he did check out my ass. That was something.

TBC