Chapter Text
Monday Morning
Harvey set a hand on Mike’s forearm in an attempt to stop his fidgeting. Closing arguments were about to begin, and Mike was up first. Mike gave him a grateful half-smile, and breathed in noisily, in an apparent attempt to ease his tension.
“You’ve got this,” murmured Harvey.
“What I’ve got is flop sweat.”
“Calm down. Do it just like you did last night.”
“Oh, God, I wish you hadn’t said that. Now I’m nervous and about to pop a boner.”
Quashing the sudden urge to laugh, Harvey shook his head. “You never know. That might sway some of the jurors who are still on the fence.”
This coaxed a low, amused chuff out of Mike, and he became noticeably more relaxed.
Just then, Rick returned from the restroom, sat down next to Mike, and gave his arm an encouraging pat. “Good luck, Mike.”
The trial resumed, and then it was time. Mike froze in his chair for one beat, and then two.
Harvey whispered in his ear, quietly enough so that only Mike would hear. “Pretend I’m the only one here, and you’re speaking to me.”
“Mr. Ross?” said the judge, sounding impatient.
Mike lurched to his feet and stepped up to face the jurors.
“This case – ” he began in a hoarse, scratchy voice. He paused, clearing his throat, and tried again. “This case is not about greed. It’s not about revenge, or retribution. This will sound trite to many of you here, but it’s about something as simple as justice.”
Harvey had heard the speech four times over the past two days, in slightly different iterations, but he could practically recite it by heart – not in the same way Mike could, of course, but almost. He didn’t listen closely to the familiar words, instead focusing his attention on Mike. He was so earnest, and articulate and handsome as he summarized the case, and shredded in advance all of the arguments Evan was likely to make. He tuned back in as Mike began to sum it all up.
“I’m going to ask you now,” Mike said, “to put yourself in the place of the victims. More specifically, imagine that your husband, or daughter, or father was grievously injured -- or killed -- in a crash which could have been prevented, and should never have happened. Well, guess what? I don’t have to imagine, because it happened to me. That’s right, my parents died in a car crash, hit by a drunk driver, because some bartender wasn’t doing his job properly. I can tell you, without exaggeration, that loss … that is a pain you never get over. That is a lifetime of pain. An empty place inside which never goes away."
Several of the jurors frowned thoughtfully upon hearing this. One surreptitiously wiped at her eyes. The gazes of every single one of them were locked on Mike, drinking in every word he said.
“The infuriating thing is, it’s a pain that could have been avoided, just as the pain of the plaintiffs could have been avoided. The other side would have you believe that the blame should fall on one particular employee at Gilhart. I’m sure Gilhart would like that as well. Unfortunately for them, we can’t separate the actions of one person from the corporation as a whole. That is a simple fact of law. Gilhart defrauded Marsh Motors, and as a result, put hundreds of lives in danger. That so few people were hurt or killed is due to the swiftness with which Marsh acted to recall the cars and correct the problem. And while we may feel justifiably relieved that the fallout from Gilhart’ s fraud was contained, that doesn’t change the fact that damage was done, for which there must be consequences.
“Find Gilhart guilty. Make them pay. The victims deserve that much from us at least. Make Gilhart feel some of their pain, if only in their bank account. Make it hurt, so that they learn, and this never happens again.”
Mike walked back to the table and sat down. Only Harvey and Rick were close enough to him to hear his shaky sigh of relief. Harvey gave him a short nod of approval. He'd done well, and hadn't popped a boner. Harvey, on the other hand …
He pushed his chair closer to the table and watched Evan take Mike's place. Her closing was smooth and polished, but ice cold, almost entirely lacking emotion. Harvey studied the expressions on the jurors' faces. They were attentive enough, but most appeared distant, or cautious. When she began reciting actuarial studies, reeling off dry facts and figures, at least half of them had a glazed look in their eyes.
Although Harvey was aware that juries could be notoriously unpredictable, and he'd never bet big money on getting the verdict he wanted, he knew in that moment that this jury was going to find in their favor. He turned his head and met Mike's gaze. Neither of them cracked a smile, but something unspoken passed between them, an acknowledgement that they'd done it. They'd beaten Evan Smith.
******
As it turned out, they didn't simply beat Evan, they crushed her.
When the jury came back that afternoon, having deliberated for merely one hour, they ruled for the plaintiffs, just as Harvey had expected they would. When they requested a higher settlement amount than Harvey had asked for, he couldn't resist a glance in Evan's direction. She looked shocked, and noticeably pale.
In the gallery, a gasp sounded from the plaintiffs, followed by a raucous cheer. Hugs were shared, shoulders clapped, faces stretched in wide smiles.
In the hallway several minutes later, Mike, Harvey and Rick were mobbed by people who wanted to shake their hands and thank them in person for winning their case. Mike had so many people surrounding him, trapping him against the wall, that Harvey finally had to intercede.
"We have to get back to the office," he told the clients, speaking over the buzz of their voices. "You'll all be receiving information in the next few days about your settlement disbursements. For now, go. Celebrate."
It was a few more minutes before he could wade through them and make it outside. Camera crews from two television news programs were waiting for them there, and he consented to a quick sound bite for each of them. He lost track of Mike and Rick for a few minutes, but he saw Evan walk down the steps and get in her car. As it sat in place, unmoving, it occurred to Harvey that he hadn't seen Gary get in with her.
He glanced at his watch, itching to get away from here to give Jessica and Louis the good news in person, and to have a celebratory drink or two. A security guard sprinted towards him, up the stairs and into the building, talking into a microphone on his shoulder. A car horn honked, and a siren sounded in the distance, followed by another, and another. Harvey frowned.
Just then, he heard someone calling his name breathlessly, and turned his head to see Rick hurrying toward him.
“Harvey! Gary has a gun. He and Mike are in the men’s room. I didn’t know what to do. I called 911 and told the guard at the front desk.”
Harvey’s mouth had gone dry as he tried to process everything that Rick had just said. “Mike … and Gary?”
“Gary was raging, out of control. He accused Mike of all sorts of things. I didn’t understand most of it. I would have stayed, really, I would have, but Gary pointed the gun at me. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Rick.” It wasn’t fine, but he needed Rick to calm down. “Take a breath. That’s it. And another. Good. Now do me a favor. See that silver Lexus?” He pointed down the steps.
“Sure.”
“Evan Smith is inside. Go down there and tell her what’s happened. Try to keep the panic out of your voice when you do it. Understand?”
Rick nodded solemnly and ran down the stairs, for once showing a certain amount of grace, in that he didn’t trip over his own feet and tumble to the bottom.
Harvey doubted that Evan would attempt to interfere. Hell, for all he knew, Evan had put Gary up to it. His main objective in sending Rick to her was to give him a task to do, and keep his impending hysteria at bay.
Setting aside his own fear for the moment, Harvey strode to the front door of the building and opened it, but was prevented from entering by one of the security guards, who held a hand out.
“Sir, we’re in lockdown. Kindly move away from the building.”
“What’s going on in there?”
“We’re not … We think it’s a hostage situation.”
Harvey’s stomach dropped at this confirmation of his worst fear – or second worst. “Look, I know the hostage. I know both of the men involved. Would you let me talk to them?”
The guard’s expression hardened, and Harvey realized he would have to go full Closer on him. Before he could begin, he heard clicking heels behind him, growing rapidly nearer. Evan appeared at his side, barely breathing hard after running up the steps of the courthouse in her three-inch heels. The guard gave her the same warning he’d given Harvey, although with only half the aggression, and a hint of elevator eyes.
By now the sirens were about a block away. Harvey guessed that if he and Evan didn’t get inside before the police arrived, the situation would spiral beyond their control.
“I need to talk to my associate.”
“Not gonna happen. We’re only trying to keep you safe, sir.
“I’m told he – they – are in the men’s room. I won’t go inside. I can talk to him from the hallway.”
Evan spoke up. “And I’m going in with him. Apparently, the fool with the gun is mine.”
“Ma’am …
“It’s Ms.” Evan gave the guards a dazzling smile. “Wouldn’t you like this situation resolved before the police get here? Why let them have all the credit?”
“I don’t know …”
“You do know,” said Harvey. “You also know that if we can defuse the situation, you might not have to spend the next eight hours explaining how someone with a gun got past your metal detector.”
Tired of arguing, he shouldered past the first guard, half-expecting him to put up resistance. He might have done so, but Evan was right behind him, squeezing the man’s arm, and giving him a limpid, pleading look. Harvey kept moving, not giving the guards time to realize what a bad idea this was, and made straight for the men’s room, with Evan at his heels.
They stopped in front of the swinging door. Harvey put a finger to his lips, and they listened for a few seconds. Someone inside the room was speaking, but their voice was too low to hear the words, or even determine for sure who it was. Harvey debated the wisdom of simply barging in. Evan had already come to her own conclusions. She elbowed her way past Harvey before he had chance to react, and entered the room.
“Gary,” she said sharply. “Put that down.”
Harvey was half a step behind her. As he cleared the doorway, his eyes widened. Gary had Mike backed up against the wall, with one hand on his shoulder. His other hand held a small revolver, probably a .38, and he had it pressed to the base of Mike’s throat. Mike’s frightened eyes darted to Harvey, and back to Gary, who was crying, his face contorted.
Harvey held out one hand, palm forward, in a placating gesture. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Evan was doing the same thing.
“Listen to me, Gary,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do this. Please put the gun down.”
“Why? So I won’t hurt your precious Mike?”
“Yes, that, but also so you don’t throw your entire life away because of one temporary disappointment.”
“You never wanted me. The only the reason you chose me is because when you turn the lights down, you can pretend I’m him.”
He shoved the gun more firmly into Mike’s throat for emphasis, causing him to flinch. Harvey made an abortive move towards them, but Evan restrained him with a hand on his arm.
“Maybe at first,” she said. “Then I got to know you, and to see what a good, sweet boy you are.”
Gary let out a desperate sounding sob. “But not like him, right? Never as good as your perfect Mike.” He jabbed the gun at him again, then dragged the barrel up his neck to his temple. “How perfect will he be with his brains decorating the wall?”
Mike shut his eyes. Harvey saw him swallow hard.
When Evan laughed, Harvey turned to glare at her, incredulous. Was she trying to incite him?
She said, “Perfect? Mike? Where on earth did you get that idea? He was the worst behaved sub I ever had. I had to fire him as my associate because he defied me in open court. Surely you know all this. Mike is about as far from perfect as a person can be.” She took one slow step toward Gary and Mike. When Gary didn’t react, she took another. “Baby, you’re the one I want, not Mike. Don’t do this, okay?”
Gary bit his lip, and his tears fell harder. “Don’t lie to me,” he grated. “You think I’m stupid, but I’m not.”
“I don’t think that at all.” Two more careful steps, and she was within arm’s reach of him. “But I do think you’re forgetting who is in charge here.”
Harvey stayed completely still. Would Gary respond to this tactic, or would it only anger him? He got his answer when Gary continued staring at Evan, eyes wide, and the barrel of the gun dropped several inches, so that it was no longer pointing directly at Mike, but at the wall behind him.
Evan’s eyes gleamed, as if she was enjoying this new challenge. She edged closer and placed her hand on Gary’s back. His eyes drifted shut, and he bowed his head.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” she murmured, “everything is going to be all right.”
Seeing his opening, Harvey held his breath and moved up on Gary, quick and stealthy. Meeting Mike’s eyes, he reached for the gun and snatched it out of Gary’s lax grip. Instead of reacting how he’d thought he would, with anger and violence, Gary collapsed against Evan, arms tight around her neck as he sobbed against her. Seconds later, he dropped to his knees on the grimy floor and clung to her thighs.
The door burst open, revealing police in SWAT gear, who swarmed inside, filling up the small space. Harvey still held the gun, and before he could explain why, he was surrounded, the gun ripped from his grasp, and then he found himself face down on the floor, with his hands cuffed behind his back.
The faint stink of urine and disinfectant filled his nostrils. He listened to Mike and Evan talking over one another trying to explain the situation to the police. Harvey didn’t speak. Let them sort it out. He was too busy keeping his face off the floor and willing his heart to slow its frantic thudding.
Eventually, they uncuffed him and helped him to his feet. Evan and Gary were gone, led out by the police earlier, Gary to be booked, and Evan to act as his attorney. He found Mike out in the hallway, giving his statement to one of the police officers. His gaze sought out Harvey, and he gave him a brief, apologetic smile.
Harvey’s answering smile felt stiff and fake. He was trembling all over, he realized, and lifted his gaze to the ceiling, inhaling several deep breaths. A hand touched his shoulder, and he jumped.
“Sir? Mr. … Specter, is it?”
A police detective stood in front of him, her badge clipped to a pocket of her suit coat.
“You’re not going to tackle me again, are you?” he asked, eying her with caution.
“I need to take your statement.”
He would have rather collected Mike and gotten them the hell out of here, but he knew the drill. He nodded. “Ask me anything.”
******
By the time the police were finished with them, and they’d waded through the press outside the courthouse, and returned to the firm to debrief Jessica and Louis and Donna, and had a drink to calm their nerves, it was after seven. Harvey was more than ready to go home and collapse. Mike looked to be in the same state.
As Ray drove them home, he glanced in the rearview mirror every few seconds, as if to reassure himself that they were all right, until Harvey politely asked him to keep his eyes on the road. While in the car, he confined himself to holding Mike’s hand loosely in one of his own. Neither spoke until Ray dropped them off and they were upstairs, coats off, ties loosened, and fresh drinks in their hands.
“Bit of a day,” observed Harvey drily as they settled together on the couch.
Mike snorted softly. They lapsed into silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Well,” Mike began, “that was – ” at the same time Harvey said, “She was wrong.”
Mike stared at him. “What?”
“Evan. She told Gary you weren’t perfect, but she couldn’t be more wrong.” He slid closer to Mike and wrapped an arm around him. Mike relaxed against him, head on his shoulder. “You are perfect.”
Warm breath puffed against Harvey’s neck as Mike laughed. “Hardly.”
“I know I’ve said it already, but I’ll say it again. I love you.”
“Jesus. You’re allowed to say it more than once, you know.”
“I lo – ”
“I mean, don’t over do it. Don’t devalue the word.”
Harvey finished his drink, took Mike’s glass from him, and finished the few drops in that too. He placed both glasses on the coffee table. “So many rules.”
Another snort from Mike. “Welcome to my world.”
Harvey shut his eyes, leaned his head against the back of the couch, and smiled when he felt Mike lie down and rest his head on his thigh. “You were great in court today.” He dug his fingers into Mike’s hair, massaging his scalp. “I’m a pretty smart guy, hiring you like that.”
“Oh, so even when I do well, you get the credit?”
“You’re a reflection of me, so … yeah.”
Harvey had only meant to tease him, to soothe some of the strain of the past few hours, but he felt Mike tense up.
“Do you think – ” Mike began, but stopped. He sighed and tried again. “I can’t help but wonder if I hadn’t gotten free of Evan … if that could have been me in Gary’s place.”
“Never.”
“You don’t think so? How can you know that? What if I hadn’t met you?”
“I know you, and I’m betting everything would have gone down the same, except that if I hadn’t been there to offer you a job, you might have ended up working at some not-for-profit legal clinic.”
Mike nodded against his leg, appearing thoughtful. “I’d actually been considering going that route before Evan found me. The thought of working for some evil, corporation-fellating Manhattan law firm kind of made my skin crawl.”
“Hey.” He gave Mike’s hair a quick tug, and then resumed petting him.
“Ouch. And no offense. Now that I know that I can actually do some good at a place like that, I suppose I could settle in, stay awhile. The paycheck doesn’t hurt.”
“I hate to break it to you, but not all of our cases are like Gilhart. Very few are, in fact. Think you can live with that?”
Mike didn’t answer right away, taking so long that Harvey began to grow worried. Finally, he lifted his head so that he could look Harvey in the eyes. “Actually, I heard about this Manhattan real estate developer who cut corners in three of his apartment towers …”
“Mike, no. Forget it.”
“But those tenants need our help.”
“If you’re talking about who I think you are, he’s one of our clients, so no.”
“And I’ve been reading about these for-profit prisons, and how they abuse the prisoners.”
“Allegedly abuse.”
“Everything is alleged until the verdict comes in.”
“Class action suits are money and energy sucking pits.”
“Pearson Specter Litt made bank on the Gilhart settlement.”
“Nevertheless …”
Mike sat up and climbed into Harvey’s lap, grinding seductively against him. “I bet I could make you change your mind.”
“New rule: no using sex to get your way at work.”
Mike kissed his neck, just under his ear, and began unbuckling his belt. “I would never.” He reached down Harvey’s pants and began stroking him.
“Shit,” gasped Harvey, growing instantly hard. “That’s good.”
“About those prisons …” Sliding to the floor, Mike sucked the head of Harvey’s cock into his mouth.
Harvey groaned, cradling Mike’s head in his palms. “One do-gooder case per year.”
A wet popping sound as Mike pulled off and grinned up at Harvey. “Great, I’ll get started tomorrow.”
“No, you just had your case. In a year, we can discuss – Ahhh …”
Mike had swallowed him all the way down, cheeks hollowing, tongue working him furiously.
“Goddamn it. Fine. Whatever you want. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t ever stop.”
The End.