Sorry this chapter is so short. Life has been busy lately! I hope you enjoy it though!

Mike sat back in the plush leather chair with a smile, the tension leaving his shoulders. He had just settled a major deal with one of their newest clients, River Stone Brewery. Mark Walters, a young businessman who had founded the brewery, had built his company from the ground up; it had taken years, but his product dominated the market and with his success, he had decided to buy out a new and young beer company. That's when he came to Harvey, asking him to help get the deal to go through. Apparently, this new company was doing really well, and Mark had wanted to get the competition off of the streets. Harvey, of course, had entrusted this to Mike and after a few days of non-stop work, Mike had finally gotten it done.

As of a few minutes ago, Mike was now the new owner of the smaller beer business. Mike knew that Mark was planning to incorporate his product into his own line of beers and sweep the other company name under the rug, but they had settled on a fair price and the two men who owned the smaller business had seemed satisfied. Well, at least the owner had. The owner, Jason, had been pleased with the money, telling them how he was going to buy a house on the beach with it. His business partner, Thomas, however, had seemed icy throughout the whole thing and didn't look pleased to be signing the company away. The two had left without incident though and Jason had even given Mark a gift bottle of whiskey as a sign of good faith.

"Here you go, Mike. You earned it."

Mike took the glass Mark had extended to him and watched as he sank into his own chair, a matching glass of whiskey in his hand.

"I'm not really supposed to be drinking on the clock. If Harvey finds out, he'll kill me."

Mark rolled his eyes. "If Harvey has an issue, then he can come see me about it. You earned this drink! Plus, it's only one."

Mark tilted his glass towards Mike, urging Mike to drink. While still reluctant, Mike decided that one drink wouldn't hurt. It wasn't like he was about to get drunk.

When Mike finished his drink, Mark offered him another, but he declined, rising out of his chair to grab his bag as he told Mark he had to get back to Harvey. Mark just smiled, knowing how Harvey could be, and poured himself another drink.

Mike made it back to the office in good time. Locking his bike, he made his way to the elevators. As the elevator climbed, a wave of dizziness rushed over Mike, and he had to place his hand on the side of the elevator to steady himself. Mike blinked, trying to get it to go away, but it persisted. It felt like the world was spinning around him.

The elevator doors slid open, and Mike stumbled out. Along with the dizziness, his body felt heavy and hard to control. Something was wrong.

Mike knew he needed help, and he needed it quickly. With a lot of effort, he somehow got his legs to move, stumbling like a drunk in the direction of Harvey's office. As he passed Donna's desk, she gave him a questioning look, but Mike didn't stop. He knew that once he stopped, he would never get his body moving again.

Harvey looked up sharply from his desk as Mike burst into his office. Since his body was barely cooperating anymore, he had basically body-slammed the glass door to open it.

"What the hell?" He heard Harvey ask as his boss got up from his desk.

"Are you drunk? I swear Mike, if you decided to get drunk with a client, I will not hesitate to fire you."

Mike looked at Harvey with blurry eyes. He could barely see his boss; his left eye was fading in and out, blackness coating most of his vision and his right eye was struggling to decipher anything in front of him. Why was it so hard to think?

"Not drunk," Mike managed to grunt, barely staying on his feet.

Harvey's face morphed into confusion and then deep concern. "Mike, you're not making any sense."

Mike tried to step forward, but the left side of his body had gone numb, and he ended up crashing to the floor instead. His head was pounding, the ceiling was spinning above him, and nothing was making sense to him anymore.

He saw a shadow lean over him and he knew the shadow was saying something, but it sounded like gibberish to Mike. There were hands on him, pulling his tie from around his neck and tugging his jacket off, but the pounding in his skull reached unbearable levels and then there was only merciful darkness.

Consciousness crept in slowly. It felt like he was stuck in thick sand. His limbs were heavy and there were no sensations around him. The only thing he knew was the pressing weight of his body and the thick fog that swirled around in his mind.

He stayed there for a bit. He wasn't sure how long, but as time passed, things began to make more sense. His body began to take shape and that fog slowly faded. The first sensation to come back was how dry his mouth felt. It was as if it had been stuffed with cotton balls; his tongue permanently glued to the roof of his mouth. Then, soft sheets molded to his body and a faint beeping along with other mechanical clicks and whirls. The place smelt clean, overwhelmingly so.

Mike cracked his eyes open and was momentarily blinded by the sunlight streaming through the window on the wall to the left. Once they adjusted, and he blinked away the spots floating in his eyes, he was able to see that he was lying in a hospital bed and that he wasn't alone in the room.

Asleep in a plastic chair next to the bed was Harvey. His boss, head resting on his hand at an awkward angle, looked disheveled. His suit, or what was left of it since he wasn't wearing his jacket or tie, was rumpled and Harvey's hair, usually perfectly styled, was sticking in different directions, as if he had run his hand through it many times.

Mike smiled softly at the sight but winced when his dry lips protested. He needed water.

A jug of water sat on a table next to the bed, condensation dripping down the sides from the ice-cold liquid inside. Mike's body yearned for it, the thought of chugging a tall glass more enticing than anything else.

He reached out a hand and tried to grab it, but he was still a bit disoriented and ended up knocking over a cup next to the jug instead.

Harvey, startled by the noise, jerked in the chair, and looked at Mike with sleep-filled eyes.

"Hey," he said as soon as he saw Mike was awake, his face brightening, "I'm glad you're awake kid."

Mike couldn't respond, his gaze fixed on the jug of water.

Harvey followed his gaze and quickly exited the chair to pour Mike a glass of the water. He handed it to Mike, who greedily accepted it, and then drank deeply, almost sighing at the pleasure it brought his dry throat.

"Thank you," he rasped as he handed Harvey back the glass.

Harvey placed it back on the table. "Of course, kid. How do you feel?"

Mike considered the question for a moment. His mind was still a little fuzzy, but overall, he felt pretty good.

"I'm okay. Still a bit foggy though. What happened?"

Harvey sat back in the chair he had vacated with a heavy sigh. He rubbed his hands over his face and Mike could see now that Harvey hadn't even shaved, as there was stubble sprouting out on the man's chin. Mike had never seen Harvey unshaven before.

"Well," Harvey started, looking back at Mike, "you came back from that meeting with Mark, and you were acting all weird. You were stumbling all over the place and your pupils were blown. I thought you were drunk."

Harvey's face took on a guilty look. "I accused you of being drunk. I threatened to fire you. I should have known better, Mike. I know you wouldn't do that."

"It's okay Harvey," Mike said softly, "You couldn't have known. It's not like I haven't screwed up in that way before."

Harvey shot out of his chair and turned his back to Mike.

"Yeah, well you could have died Mike. I stood there and accused you of being drunk when in reality you were poisoned."

"I was what?"

Harvey turned back around to face Mike, guilt and regret lining his features.

"You were poisoned. You and Mark. You guys drank some whiskey at his office, right?"

Mike swallowed, trying to process what Harvey was saying. "Yeah, but how could it have been poisoned? It was a gift from Jason, and he was happy about the agreement. Why would he poison it?"

Harvey's face turned angry. "It was that son of a bitch's business partner. Thomas. He was the one that poisoned the whiskey. Apparently, he was unhappy with the deal, thought it was unfair, and wanted to get back at Mark for buying their company."

"How do you know all this?"

Harvey paused for a second, an unreadable expression crossing over his face, before he said, "Mark is dead."

Mike's heart sank. Mark was dead?

"They found him dead in his office an hour after you were admitted to the hospital," Harvey continued, "he drank more than you, so he didn't have a chance. It was touch and go with you as well for a while. The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with you. In my office, it looked like you were having a stroke. You were speaking gibberish and part of your body was paralyzed, but when they found Mark, they tested the whiskey, and it came back positive for Iodomethane. It's a chemical commonly found in pesticides. When they went to speak to Jason and Thomas, they found a bottle of a pesticide containing Iodomethane at Thomas' house and he admitted to what he had done."

Mike shook his head. He couldn't believe that had actually happened. It sounded like the plot to a bad crime movie.

"How…how long have I been here?" Mike asked.

"A couple of days. Once the doctors knew what was in your system, they were able to treat you, but it took a toll on your body. They've had you on a special IV and have been monitoring you, but they gave you the all clear last night. Then, all we had to do was wait for you to wake up."

Mike stared at nothing, his mind racing with the news. "Wow." Was all he managed to say.

"Yeah," Harvey chuckled darkly. "Needless to say, you are never going to a meeting alone again."

Harvey's comment broke Mike out of his stupor and he looked at his boss. "Wait a minute, what? I got poisoned one time and now I can never go off on my own again?"

"Exactly. Clearly, I can't trust you on your own. Didn't anyone ever teach you not to eat things strangers gave you?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "Firstly, I didn't eat anything. I had a drink. And secondly, Mark wasn't a stranger, he was a client!"

"See? This is exactly why you need a chaperone." Harvey grinned and Mike smiled back.

"Alright, fine. But since I got poisoned because of a case you gave me, you're going to buy me breakfast for the next month."

Harvey's grin melted into something softer and more heartfelt. "I think I can live with that. Just promise you won't go out and get poisoned again. I can only handle sitting in a hospital chair for so long." He groaned for emphasis, rubbing a hand on his back.

Mike chuckled and leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes. "Deal."