Suits drabble for Lana! Again. c:

[transportive]

Ever since that day in in-house trial, Mike couldn't get that story that Jessica had told out of his head. The one about Harvey, from what must have been at least a decade and a half ago, and the old lady's pension. Not even what Harvey's reason had been, or how it was important to the mock trial, but instead what it meant he'd done. How that could be important itself, regardless of its affects or meanings now.

He didn't know if it was true that that was why Harvey had done what he'd done, but he really couldn't stop himself from coming back to it, even while he was busy. And apparently it showed. Mike hadn't even realised he'd been scrutinizing Harvey before his boss scolded him for it.

"Would you stop staring at me like I'm the prime suspect in a case and get back to work?"

"Uh, right, sorry. Reading documents, finding discrepancies, gotcha."

"As long as I don't have to get you blinders."

"Ha. Ha."

Pony metaphors aside, Mike really did turn his attention back to work, poring over paperwork and contracts. He just needed to find where it didn't quite fit, because he'd read one of them once and their client had insisted it was written a different way elsewhere...

"No, really, did I kick a puppy or something when I was outside and not notice?"

"Uh, no, I just-- I was just thinking, that's all. Sorry, working now."

"Thinking about something on my face, apparently. I'm pretty sure I washed all the blood off after that last murder spree, so what is it?"

The younger (not-)lawyer swallowed nervously, tearing his eyes off the older man. For a long time he debated whether or not to say something, but he could feel Harvey's serious stare boring into him and eventually was reminded of the silent by the stern "Mike" he received.

He sighed and put his highlighter down and made himself meet the gaze head on.

"That story Jessica told. About you in the mail room. That's what I was thinking about."

"Then let's not think about it." In an instant the half-teasing-half-concerned voice had lowered to something like a warning. 'Don't go there,' it said, but Mike steeled himself.

"You brought it up. Anyway, it's not about the caring thing. It just reminded me of something that happened when I was younger. My grandma nearly lost her pension, when I was still pretty much a kid, it kinda nearly screwed us over."

"You still are a kid." A beat. "I wasn't aware your grandmother was connected to Pearson-Hardman," Harvey said dryly. It was still a dangerous tone, like he really wanted Mike to drop it. Yet Mike wanted to get it off his chest now that he'd started. He thought it might help, and he could stop staring at his boss in a way that'd get him in trouble.

"Well no." And he had no illusions about that. It wasn't like he thought Harvey had somehow saved her or something. It wasn't even the same situation. "But it was a paperwork mishap. So I guess I was just thinking about how relieved we were when it turned out okay, and how you kind of did the same for someone else."

It was easy to picture some young guy in a mail room just like Harvey had been, maybe with the same bad bleached hair that he would never let Harvey know he knew about (except in case of an emergency). Picking through and finding a problem and fixing it.

"I was doing my job," and those dark eyes were off his protégé and onto the paperwork in front of him. "If the woman was 'relieved' or not is something I can't know and don't care about. Now get back to work or someone else might get screwed over."

"Finding someone else's mistake wasn't on you. You still helped someone out, even if it was just because of your job." Even if he kind of believed Jessica had been right about how and why he did it. It made him feel a little better in a way.

"It wasn't a mistake, it was someone trying to cover for their mistake." And apparently there was still a bit of a raw nerve there. Unsurprisingly, he guessed. Harvey looked up at Mike with an annoyed expression, kept his eyes trained there now. "Just because we were still coming out of the nineties doesn't mean anyone gets a free pass for bad decisions."

Mike held his tongue about bad decisions and reminded himself 'except in case of an emergency.' "Yeah, well," Mike started, something surely witty on the tip of his tongue in place of what he might have wanted to say. He closed his mouth after a second, paused, then said, "Thanks anyway."

Harvey shook his head and turned his attention back to his desk. "Get back to work, will you? I hired you to be a fake lawyer, not a fake counsellor."

Mike could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile on Harvey's face, and decided that bringing it up had been worth it.