A/N: Hey! Sorry that this is late, but I just moved into my dorm and the WiFi here really, really sucks. Anyhow...enjoy. :)

Disclaimer: Suits isn't mine. If it was, I'd probably have better WiFi.

It was past ten. Mike Ross leaned back in his chair and blinked a few times, trying to make the computer screen come into better focus. He was one of the last at Pearson-Harden that night. It was a Friday, after all. He'd seen Rachel leaving hours ago, giving him a wave and a half-smile as she'd walked past his cubical.

He got up from his desk, deciding that he had done all he could for the night. He slipped back into his suit jacket and started over towards the elevator. He looked over at Harvey's office. The lights were off, so his boss had probably left for the night. Running a hand through his hair, he got into the elevator. It was frustrating to spend a whole day researching like this and to get virtually nowhere. He pulled his phone out from his pocket, deciding carelessly that he didn't want to think about Pearson-Harden any more than day.

He dialed the number and she picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, Jenny." He smiled into the phone as the elevator got closer to the ground. "It's Mike."

"Hey there." Her voice was warm and inviting. "Are you still at work?"

"Just leaving." The elevator dinged as it hit the lobby. "I was wondering…did you want to go out for drinks?"

"Yeah, okay." She replied instantly. "D'you want me to pick you up?" She had a car and knew he didn't. He bit his lip in frustration. It was something he'd have to remedy soon.

"No, no." He waved to the night guard as he left the lobby. "I'll take my bike."

"Are you sure?" She pressed and he fought the faintest stirrings of annoyance. She was being pushy. "I really want to drive you, Mike."

"Come on, Jenny." He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he undid his bike lock. "I'll meet you there."

"Okay." She sounded a little put out. But she gave him directions to a bar and said she'd meet him there in about half an hour.

"Sounds good." He told her. "Bye."

"Bye." Her voice faded and he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He swung a leg over his bike and started towards the bar that Jenny had directed him too. He knew the place. It was a little loud and showy for his taste, but he'd been to bars that were plenty worse.

He wondered about what was going on between him and Jenny as he wove through the usual crush of people that lined the New York streets. They were dating, or that was the best estimate he could come up with. Still, whenever he was with her, whenever he so much as talked to her, he felt terribly guilty. Ever since they'd met, she'd been Trevor's girl, strictly off-limits. But now, Trevor was gone and he was free to date her as he pleased.

When they'd first met, he'd been struck by her. By her easy prettiness, by her kindness. She was the sort of girl that he had always hoped he'd be lucky enough to end up with. But now, he mused as he pedaled between a bus and a gaggle of girls heading into a club, he wasn't the guy who settled for what he was lucky to get. If anything, Harvey had impressed his need to win on Mike. Mike had to wonder if he really did like Jenny now or if he was still in the mentality of the Mike who was poor and smoked pot and never thought he was worthy of anyone's affection.

And even if he did like her, was he just a rebound? She and Trevor had been together for something like two years. Even as badly as that relationship had ended, there still had to be some questions in her mind, some what-ifs. And why was she dating him, the closest thing to Trevor that she could possibly find? It made his head hurt, thinking about it.

He pulled up to the bar early, the crush of music already making his head pound. He slipped inside, maneuvering his way around an amorphous mass of people dancing in the middle of the floor. He groaned inwardly. He hated dancing.

He made a beeline for bar and saw a familiar shape, not Jenny, huddled halfway down. She had curly dark hair and a perfect hourglass figure. "Rachel!" He sat down beside her. She was dressed in a tight black dress and had on very red lipstick. "Hi!"

She turned to face him and he was shocked to see that she had tears in her hazel eyes. She tilted her head to side and a few of her curls spilled over her face. "Hi, Mike." She said in a voice that was almost resigned.

Dinner had been awful. Rachel Zane and her parents usually got along fine and tonight had been no exception. Fine was the exact description of their evening together. But, as they piled her with question after question about the LSATs and law school and her lack of a romantic and social life, she had started to feel buried. So, quite a few glasses of red wine later, she'd started crying in the middle of the very fancy restaurant that they'd chose to meet her in.

Both of her parents had been mortified. They'd hurried her out with many apologies to the waiter. Rachel struggled to control her tears as they'd pushed her into a taxi. She'd instructed her taxi driver to drive to the closest place that had alcohol. He'd dropped her at a bar a block away. It was way to showgirl for her taste, but she was too upset to be picky.

She had been sitting at the bar alone, determined to drown her sorrows in vodka, when Mike Ross had appeared. And, of course, it had to be him. The one boy that she was friends with at work had to see her sitting at a bar alone, crying.

"Are you okay, Rachel?" He put a hand on her back and she looked over at him. A warm sort of tingling spread out from the place where his hand was resting and she was able to force a smile at him.

"Fine." She shook her head, trying to clear it. His face was warm and familiar and comforting in her red wine-induced haze. "I'm fine."

"Why are you crying, then?" The question was soft, gentle, not prodding. He wasn't a lawyer right now. He was just Mike, her friend. He reached out hand and brushed one of the tears off her cheek. His fingers were warm and heavy on her face and she shuddered from the cold that replaced it when he retracted them.

"I…" Her voice was quite, a little unclear. Her hands were shaking. "I don't know." Her eyes locked with his. "I don't know anything, anymore." The part of her that was still sober-ish shouted at the rest of her to stop talking and go straight home. She ignored it. He was so close…she could smell him. Warmth and laundry soap. It was familiar and strange all at once.

He leaned in closer to her. "Rachel, I…"

"Mike!" A voice broke through their little bubble and the moment was once again gone. Mike dropped his hand abruptly and Rachel felt cold and lonely. A pretty blonde girl dressed in a bright orange dress flounced towards them. "Hi!" She ignored Rachel and kissed Mike on the cheek, sitting down on his other side.

"Hi, uh, Jenny." Mike ran a hand through his hand. "This is Rachel." He pointed to her. "She's a friend of mine from work."

"Oh." Jenny looked put out. "I met you during the mock trial, didn't I?"

Rachel attempted a smile. "Yeah." She flagged down the bartender. "Can I get a shot over here?"

"We'll all have one." Mike flashed a smile and a twenty-dollar bill at the man behind the bar. The man handed them all shots. Jenny downed hers in one and pulled Mike away from the bar.

"Come on…" She ignored his protests and pushed him towards the dance floor. "I love this song!"

Rachel watched them as they danced steadily closer. Mike was awkward, all elbows and uncomfortable glances. She was delighted, finally there was something that he wasn't perfect at. Jenny slid around him like a snake, sinuous and deadly. Rachel glared at her.

"Want another drink, honey?" The bartender leaned across the counter. Usually, when men with particularly bad hygiene offered Rachel drinks, she refused. But, tonight was not usual for her, not in the slightest.

"Yeah." She didn't take her eyes off the blonde flouncing around the dance floor. "Yeah I do."

Jenny wasn't sure what job she wanted to be doing in a year, wasn't sure what she wanted for lunch tomorrow and didn't have any semblance of a five year plan. But now, right now, she was exactly sure what she wanted. And that was Mike Ross.

She had loved Trevor. She might still love Trevor, she wasn't sure, but right now that didn't seem to matter. She had always liked Mike. He was nice to her even when Trevor wasn't. He listened to her when Trevor wouldn't. She had always wondered…how would her life be different if she were to be with Mike. Now, she got to figure that out.

She danced closer to him and he blushed. she wanted to laugh at his modesty…it wasn't like he hadn't touched her before. But his gaze kept idly playing away from her, moving towards the figure at the bar. Annoyed, Jenny pulled his tie and brought his ear down by her mouth. "Let's get out of here."

"Jenny, I…" His answer was cut off by a loud exclamation at the bar.

"Is anyone here with her?" Mike's work friend had tumbled off her barstool. Her dark curls were spreading out on the floor. Jenny bit back a laugh, but Mike rushed over. He scooped up the paralegal in his arms, his face all concern.

"Did she hit her head?" He ran a hand through her dark hair and Jenny fought a stab of annoyance. Sure, he was being his usual good-person-type-self, but she was here too. He was on a date with her. "Rachel?" He put a hand on her cheek and Jenny's annoyance grew. "Rachel…can you hear me?"

The girl in his arms giggled. "Hi." She put a hand on his face. "Did you catch me?"

Jenny rolled her eyes, but Mike smiled indulgently down at her. "How's your head?"

"Hurts a little." Her face screwed up with concentration. "S'not so bad, though…" She snuggled closer to Mike. "I'm sleepy."

"Mike, let's go." Jenny heard the impatience in her own voice, but she had seen enough.

"Jenny…" His face was conflicted. "I…I can't. I should get Rachel home."

"Fine." She felt her face go still. "That's fine."

"Jenny…" Mike still hadn't let go of the drunk girl half-splayed on the floor.

"No…no, it's fine." Jenny turned towards the door. "You get her home." She was aware she was causing a scene. She was fighting tears as it was. "I'll see you around."

"Jenny…" She heard his half-hearted protests, but escaped the heat of the bar for the coolness of the night air, tears falling silently down her face.

Mike helped Rachel out of the cab and over the door to his building. He still felt awkward and kind of weird, bringing her up to his apartment, but he didn't know where she lived and, with her current state of inebriation, she hadn't been been able to tell him. "Come on, Rach." He hauled the mostly unconscious paralegal up the steps and through the door. "Let's get you up to bed."

"Okay." She agreed vacantly. "Bed."

He dragged Rachel towards the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor. Other than Rachel's faint giggling, the ride up was quiet. When they got to his floor, he helped her over to his room. He propped her against the wall as he pulled his key out and unlocked his door. There was a thump as he pulled the door open. Rachel had slid down the wall and was now splayed out on the floor.

"Rach…" He bent down and put her arm over his shoulders. "What did you drink?" She was deadweight at his side, doing nothing to help him as he pulled her into the apartment.

"Everything." Was her slurry response. She touched his face with her hand as he deposited her on the couch. "Hello." She giggled. He shook his head in disbelief. Rachel didn't giggle. It just wasn't something that happened.

"Hi." He smiled at her and she grinned back, looking so deliriously happy that he wanted to laugh. "You stay there, okay?"

"Okay." She agreed, throwing herself sideways over the couch. She was splayed there like, well, like a drunk person. Which she was. "Where are you going?" She tilted her head and looked up at him from her vantage point on the couch.

"To make a call." He went over to the kitchen, leaving her there. He dialed Jenny's number and put the phone up to his ear. After a few rings, it went to voicemail. He shook his head and tried again. This time, it went straight to voicemail. "Hey, uh, Jenny." He felt awkward and guilty. "I just wanted to say sorry again for how tonight worked out." He ran a hand through his hair, looking over to where Rachel was spread out on the couch. "Rachel's just a friend. I just wanted to help her out." He paused. He probably wasn't helping himself, mentioning Rachel. "So…maybe I could take you out to dinner next week. Anywhere you want to go, just…"

"Mike…" Rachel called over to him.

"Call me back." He said loudly, trying to block out Rachel's voice.

"Mike…" Rachel's voice was plaintive, loud. "I'm cold."

"Sorry, again." Mike close to yelled in the phone, hanging it up. "What, Rachel?" He looked over at her, unable to keep his frustration out of his voice. "What is it?"

To his horror, tears started to fill her eyes. He rushed over to the couch, wanting to hit himself. "Rachel, don't cry…come on, don't cry." He put an arm around her, but she continued to sob nosily.

"You…hate me!" She managed to say between tears. "I ruined your date and now you hate me!"

"I don't hate you." He pulled her in closer and she continued to cry into his shoulder. "Rachel, calm down."

She shook her head, but her tears slowly subsided. "Okay." He said cautiously a few moments later. "Do you want to borrow a shirt or something?"

"Okay." She agreed. He left her on the couch and pulled a t-shirt out of his dresser at random. He tossed it to her. She struggled for a few moments and then looked over at him. "Will you…" She paused to hiccup. "will you get my zipper?"

"Um…okay." He felt incredibly uncomfortable. He'd already asked her out. She'd said no. And now she was lying on his couch, asking him to unzip her dress. It was just too much. She looked up at him expectantly and he bent down, pushing her dark hair off of her back and over her shoulder. It was soft. His hands shook just a little as he pulled the zipper down to her lower back. He tried very hard not to notice the large expanse of bare skin under his fingers. "Okay." He looked away. "I'm going to get changed…you should too." He wandered away, back into his bedroom and shut the door.

This was insane. More than insane, this was torture. He liked Rachel…a lot. She might be a little icy sometimes, but under that she was smart and funny and beautiful. He took off his suit and put on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. The fact that she was in his apartment, wearing his clothes, was making him crazy. He couldn't stand it. He was planning on barricading himself in his room all night until her voice reached him. "Mike…"

"Rachel?" He opened his door and peered out cautiously. She was wearing his shirt and sitting on his couch, hugging a pillow. "Are you…good?"

She nodded vigorously, clutching the pillow tighter. "I just…" She looked surprisingly sober, her eyes focused on his. "I wanted to say thanks." She paused and looked away. "For tonight…not leaving me."

He sighed and gave her a tired smile. "We're friends, Rach. That's what friends do."

She bit her lip and he was instantly distracted. "No they don't." Her voice was loopy and playful, but there was an undertow of seriousness. "No one would do that but you."

"Come on." He walked over and pulled her off the couch, putting her arm over his shoulders. She refused to let go of the pillow, so he just let her hold it. "You can have my bed tonight." He pushed open the door with his foot and helped her into his dark bedroom.

Mike picked her up bridal-style and dropped her onto his bed. She looked up at him, a light in her pale eyes. He tried to pull back, but she kept her long arms wrapped determinedly around his neck. "Where are you going?" Her voice was slurred and she smelled like alcohol.

"The couch, Rachel." He tried to pull away. She held him harder. "Rachel…"

"Don't go." Her voice was insistent, close to weepy. "Please, don't go."

"I have to." His resolve was steadily weakening. But, he knew that if he stayed with her, even if nothing happened, their friendship would never be the same. There were some things that, as purely-platonic-friends, you could never come back from. Sleeping in the same bed was one of those things. "Trust me, Rachel."

"I do." She tugged hard and he found himself lying on top of her. She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the entire world. He shushed her and, eventually, she subsided. He moved off of her, fully intending to leave the room, but she caught his hand in hers. "Stay." Her voice was a whisper in the dark room.

"Okay." Sometimes, friendships changed for a reason. Sometimes, all you could do was move forward together. "I'll stay." His bed was small. Generally, he slept alone so it was fine. But, tonight, lying side-by-side with a coworker who he was trying very hard not to touch, his bed seemed tiny. Try as he might, their sides seemed destined to brush against each other. And beside that, drunk Rachel was also apparently cuddly Rachel. She put her head on his chest, snuggling into him like he was the comfiest thing in the world.

"Goodnight, Rachel." Mike intoned quietly. She looked over at him and moved back a little.

"Mike." Her face was merely inches from his. Her alcohol-laced breath washed over him. Then, the distance wasn't there anymore and she was kissing him. For a moment, he kissed her back, her lips soft and languid against his. But after a moment, he drew back. She wasn't in her right mind…and as much as he wanted to kiss her and keep on kissing her, he was a gentleman. And she was drunk.

"Let's go to sleep, Rach." He gathered her closer to him, putting his chin on top of her head and wishing that this moment was real.

A/N: Whadidya think? Lemme know and review! The next one should be up in a day or so, depending on my schedule.