"Home isn't home?" Harvey asked as he shut the door behind Meghan. "Is that code for something?"

Mike went on to explain that she was just a friend's sister who was staying with him for a couple of days. Home was the library in their cover stories, but in reality, it was wherever their older brother had decided was a safe place to meet privately and talk that day. Then he explained the weed and how he was running from undercover police.

"How the hell did you know they were the police?" Every word of Mike's story had him impressed. Like any New Yorker with the belief that New York City was the best city on Earth, Harvey believed the NYPD was the best police force around. To have someone like Mike, with only the test taking and purchasing of what was then an illegal substance, pull one over on a trained task force.

"I read this novel in elementary school, and it was the exact same thing."

"You read a novel… in elementary school."

"What? I like to read."

"And why'd you ask them what time it was?"

"Throw 'em off." It was as simple as that. "What kind of drug dealer asks a cop what time it is when he's got a briefcase full of pot, right?"

If Harvey was impressed before, the standards of someone, who wasn't Mike, doing so had risen. "We should hire you. Geez, I'd give you the twenty-five grand as a signing bonus."

Mike wanted to take it, and even expressed his interest in doing so. But it was dashed by one word, followed by another word. The second word brought back to mind one of the many events he wished he could forget.

"Unfortunately, we only hire from Harvard. And you not only did not go to Harvard law school, you haven't even gone to any law school."

Mike didn't enjoy using his brain to manipulate the outcome of things. While it helped pay the bills, it broke him every time he had to put a wrong answer down to make it look like something the real person would have given. But, for him, this was different. Yes, he was manipulating the outcome, but he didn't have to give wrong answers on purpose. He was finally doing something with his mind that was currently making him happy. "What if I told you that I consume knowledge like no one you've ever met, and I've actually passed the bar?"

If Meghan were here, she'd enjoy the show, he thought. She loves messing with people's minds.

"I'd say you're full of crap," Harvey retorted.

"That's a barbri legal handbook right there, right? Open it up. Read me something. Anything."

Harvey started reading from it only to hear Mike's voice over his own, quoting the paragraph verbatim. What came next could have been called a battle of wits between a law school graduate with courtroom experience and someone who only ever had access to the textbooks via public library. That is until Mike revealed he didn't look anything up online as Harvey had expected him to, but rather had a game of Hearts open. Sometimes having a con artist for an older brother paid off. He had seen through Harvey's intentions.

"Sorry. If you want to beat me, you're gonna have to do it at something else."

Mike soon went into his dream, this time, not intending for the outcome he wasn't expecting. He passed the bar without going to law school, subsequently winning a bet. He described how he was knocked into a different life because he listened to Trevor only to later find out that the test answers were not just sold to the dean's daughter. The money used to by the answers was to get Trevor out of a jam with his dealer.

"I lost my scholarship, I got kicked out of school, I... I got knocked into a different life. And I have been wishing for a way back ever since."

Mike was glad that Meghan hadn't been brought up after she left. Harvey told him this job was going to require long hours. He could handle that. When Meghan wasn't suspended from school she'd be there for at least eight of those hours. Then with Edith. All he'd have to do is make sure she had somewhere to go, like Neal's or Mozzie's, on those days so she wouldn't feel like he was abandoning her. This job was for him, but it was also for her. It could pave the way to a better, higher education provided he passed the school's background checks.

"I'm inclined to give you a shot, but what if I decide to go another way?" Harvey asked, still feeling some sympathy for him. While Mike did make those choices that ultimately knocked him into his different life, he wasn't the force behind it. Trevor was more than likely the anchor Mike had attached himself to and was behind a majority of said choices, though there was that girl from earlier. She hadn't been introduced to him so calling her by name wasn't going to happen. He just couldn't help thinking that something about her… something about her screamed felon in training.

"I'd say that's fair. Sometimes I like to hang out with people who aren't that bright, you know, just to see how the other half lives." It wasn't something he would normally say since everyone is intelligent in their own way, be it through education, or plain old experience.

"I'll make you a deal. You tell me everything. Even if it's something so miniscule you think it won't matter. Otherwise, I won't be able to help you if this gets out."

"Done," Mike answered. Aside from the possibility of being followed by a private investigator, he didn't feel the need to mention his sister. When Trevor had found someone who could make it look like they were relocated, he asked if the paperwork could say Meghan had died in the crash. After that moment, she ceased to exist on paper as Meghan Ross, little sister to Mike and Daniel (Neal) Ross.

"Move over. I'm emailing the firm I just found our next associate…" Harvey took Mike's place behind his laptop, drafting the email while stating the details of the deal Mike had agreed to before he even knew what the deal was. "All right. You're gonna start a week from Monday. Here's what you're gonna do. First, no more pot. We drug test. Stop smoking now, you'll be fine, I assume that's all the drugs you do."

"How do you know that?"

"You read books, I read people. And potheads smoke pot. That's what they do."

"It's not all I do. I have interests," Mike defended.

"You're Albert friggin' Einstein, and you couldn't manage to get into law school? You think that's not from smoking weed?"

"Trevor got—"

"That's another thing. You're never gonna talk to Trevor again. You're gonna ditch that briefcase, tell me about the friend with the sister, and you're gonna get on a plane to Harvard, and learn everything there is about going to law school there…. Did you buy that suit?"

"Yeah…" Great… another person making fun of my clothes. Neal's gonna love this guy.

"Let's buy some new ones."

Meghan finally lifted her head. The brothers had started talking about one of Neal's old cases while working with the FBI and the legal angels he could have used to close it sooner. Her eyes widened. They may have changed the subject, but the glares remained in place.

These siblings had their own code. They weren't talking about one of Neal's old cases at all. Neal used the case to relay what she had told him about doing Trevor's dirty work on occasion. How it almost always never worked out for her. She wouldn't get caught by law enforcement, but she did have to talk her way out of a hostage situation at least once.

"You know how Grammy grounded you for two weeks?"

"It's a month now, isn't it?" Meghan groaned.

"Try again," Neal replied.

"Come clean now or it'll be until graduation, after you've turned eighteen," Mike continued.

"Come clean about what?"

"The drop. How did you know what I was up against?"

"Okay…" Meghan sighed as she went into her answer. She had done drops for Trevor for a couple of varied reasons. It was usually out of pure boredom. At least once was for money. "Sooooo, how long?"

"Meghan, I was doing the drop to pay for Grammy's care. You did them purely to see what you could get away with."

Biologically speaking, she knew crime wasn't genetic, but based on their remaining family and its history, an argument could be made for it that would stand in court. How many people could say that their parents, who were upstanding citizens, somehow managed to have, and/or raise every one of them to be criminals.

"Just buy the burial plot already… I've done a few drops for him. But after that last time, I told him if he asked me again that I was going to tell Jenny since I can't go to the police without turning myself in. Couldn't do it anonymously since he'd know it was my doing."

"What happened the last time?" Mike asked. He almost seemed afraid to look between older and younger sibling on the off chance that her response was going to be his worst fear.

"Silver tongue had to talk her way out of a hostage situation," Neal confirmed.

So that's why she said to buy the burial plot, Mike thought.

"I'll deal with you later." Mike sighed, dramatically running his hand down his face. "Right now, I have to go pack for my flight to Boston. You're coming by train to keep Harvey from knowing about you since he bought the plane ticket for me."

"This sucks."

"Suspension isn't supposed to be fun."

Neal and Mike remained conversational while Meghan sulked. Mike treated the situation as if staying with Neal or Mozzie was fun and staying glued to his side was punishment. The time came for them to say their goodbyes until the following week upon their return.

"Did we really have to come here?" Meghan asked as they walked through Harvard's main entrance. "You do realize that by passing the Bar without a degree or any diploma higher than high school, you've set a precedent, right? Just because you didn't go to law school or go in front of the ethics committee doesn't mean your name isn't there."

"That's not how the law works, Megs… Go sit in one of the chairs over there while I see about getting a tour."

Meghan rolled her eyes only to receive a Gibbs slap. She loved NCIS. While it was funny on the TV series, getting one in real life hurt. If looks could kill, her glare would have done nothing. She hadn't mastered that con yet.

"I could have stayed at Tuesday, or Wednesday… Or any other Day for that matter," Meghan muttered as she stepped away from Mike and toward the wall of empty seats before his hand could slap the back of her head once again.

To say Mike was glad Meghan couldn't hear the receptionist's reply to his inquiry of signing up for that day's law school tour was an understatement. If he'd had a time machine to take him back six weeks, he wouldn't need the tour. He could just go back to the moment he let Trevor talk him into one of the biggest mistakes of his life and change the course of history if that were possible. Obviously one can't proclaim knowledge pertaining to the science of time travel when the subject has yet to be proven and is only possible through the means of science fiction.

"Well, that was a bust," he said as he approached Meghan's chair. "These tours fill up weeks to months in advance with seven thousand applicants a year."

"Use your training? I know Neal taught you a few things before he left, just like he's been teaching me."

"And what happened the last time he had to leave?"

"What about this makes you think someone's gonna kneecap you? The only people who will come after you are the ones who aren't happy with the work you'll be doing, and we both know it won't be because you didn't do the job well. Your clients won't be the problem. "

It didn't take long for Mike to accept Meghan's idea. Using his training, he tricked a tour attendee into thinking the man had been invited to a cocktail hour for the more realistic candidates. All the target had to do was give Mike his name tag and head to the dean's office.

Their week in Boston had come and gone. Mike was starting his first day on the new job, and Meghan was back in school. She was quickly on her way to yet another suspension by way of lifting things from the teachers' desks.

Meghan knew Mike would have been upset with her over this. He was easier to read than Neal who would have been both proud as a con artist and unhappy as someone working alongside a federal agency.

On the other side of Manhattan at the law firm of Pearson Hardman, Mike had just finished a tour of the offices and was finally shown his cubical.

"And finally, this is where you'll live," his tour guide, Rachel Zane, said. "Wow. I gave you that pen and notepad for a reason. You haven't taken one note."

"That's because—" but he was interrupted.

"Because you were too busy ogling me to listen to a word I've said?"

"Partners' offices anchor the wings. Fifth floor's research, sixth is security. All work gets billed, even if it's finding an address. I answer to Harvey and Louis Litt, and, judging by the way you responded to my questions, I should admire Harvey and I should fear Louis. You have been here for five years, and just because I outrank you does not mean I have the authority to command your services. Oh, it's also pretty clear that you think you're too smart to be a paralegal," he replied.

"You know what nobody likes? Nobody likes a showoff."

"You used the word ogling," he said as if to prove a point. "When do I get to see Harvey?"

Rachel didn't stick around to answer. While he wanted her to, he was glad she didn't once he read the caller ID on his ringing cell phone. Sighing, he answered. "What'd she do now?" there was a moment of silence on his end as he listened to the other voice. "Put her on…" Mike left the cubical to have this conversation in a more private setting. If it wasn't for the Marshalls, the FBI, or his and Neal's life choices, he wouldn't have had to concern himself with keeping Meghan a secret. He leaned against the wall of a bathroom stall.

"Hi, Dad-"

"You just got off from a suspension, Megs. If you get detention, you're staying for it. If suspended again on your first day back, that deal we made last year is gone. Got it?"

"I get it…"

"Buuuutttt," he seemed there was more behind the scenes.

"There might be talks of recommending a boarding or military school in the near future."

"I know you want to impress Danny," he said using their brother's WITSEC name to keep the cover. "But when does it end? You keep getting involved in things that could get you suspended, eventually you'll wind up expelled. I've already been there. Do you want that over your head, too?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry for ruining your first day. I'll apologize to the teachers and ask about ways I can clean up my record even a little bit before I graduate."

"You'd better. I can't afford boarding or military school even with a scholarship, and you can't transfer to another school."

"Yes, Sir," Meghan replied, sounding rather military.

"Don't salute. We're not military or deaf," Mike retorted.

There was a split second of silence on the other end. "How did you-?"

"I'm your brother and I raised you Megs. We have the same memory. Shouldn't need the reminder."

"I hate you." It was just the way these siblings talked to each other.

"Love you, too. Now put the office back on."

It didn't take long for the principal's voice to make its way across the airwaves. The end result was detention after some fancy talking on Mike's part. There was concern the teen might need to see a therapist with her teachers thinking she was a kleptomaniac and not someone who was just practicing her theft skills so she could show them to Neal.

Once the call came to an end, Mike checked the restroom to be sure no one was in there. He hadn't heard the door open, toilets flush, or water running in the sinks, but that didn't mean anything.

Meghan jumped on her bike the moment detention let out. With it being Mike's first day, she went to the home to visit. She followed this routine for the next three days, expecting some sort of fall out. His friendship with Trevor was going downhill over the case of weed, the case he had been assigned seemed to be falling apart, the firm partner who oversaw the associates had threatened to fire him on his first day, his witness turned out not to be a witness at all, and their apartment had been ransacked. He was far too distracted by those events to even think about how he was going to handle Meghan's situation.

Had it been her first or even fifth reprimand, he might have come to her defense. But it seemed to happen every day. He was no longer sympathetic toward her reactions, nor was he as gullible as he once was when trying to figure out the whole parenthood thing.

On the last day of the school and work week, Meghan was once again at the home since Neal hadn't given the okay for her to be at his place. She didn't feel herself fall asleep after the lights had been turned out, but she did wake up when she heard the door close.

Mike leaned against the door. He saw Meghan sleeping, wanted to whisper so he wouldn't disturb her. His voice cracked, revealing how much stress his dream was putting him under on top of everything else that had been weighing him down.

"Michael," Edith's voice rang out in the tired teen's ears.

"I want to quit."

"Come here. When your parents died, I lost my son and my daughter-in-law." Meghan's ears tuned in to this conversation. It wasn't often she heard about the two people she never got the chance to meet. "I was scared, alone, and I was too old to raise you three kids. But I had no choice. Because who else was going to care of my grandkids? You made me a promise before… You're in the door. Promise me now the only way you'll leave is if they rip you out."

He wanted to break. Meghan could see it in his eyes when she opened hers. With Mike's back to her, she was able to come up behind him and put her arms around his neck. He put a hand over on top to hold them there as he buried his face them.

That little pep talk that was intended for Mike helped him find a way to close his first case and free himself from whatever was holding him back. On that particular night, that something happened to be Trevor and his briefcase. He got the victim everything she was asking for, and then some. All the client wanted was a job to help take care of her son. It was something he could relate to now that he was the sole provider for his sister and grandmother.