round one prompt post - CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS
ROUND ONE IS CURRENTLY CLOSED TO PROMPTS. ANY PROMPT POSTED HERE FROM NOW ON WILL BE DELETED.
New rounds will open at suits_meme.
Round One is officially closed. Round Two will open on Wednesday morning. Feel free to continue posting fills.
Refer to the Rules before posting a prompt.
Direct any of your concerns to the Mod Post.
I'll be archiving prompts (both ( Read more... )
New rounds will open at suits_meme.
Round One is officially closed. Round Two will open on Wednesday morning. Feel free to continue posting fills.
Refer to the Rules before posting a prompt.
Direct any of your concerns to the Mod Post.
I'll be archiving prompts (both ( Read more... )
Or rather, Mike shoes up late in the same suit he was in the night before, and Harvey is far from impressed.
“Cut some slack,” Mike complains. “I didn’t have time to bike all the way home.”
“Cry me a river,” Harvey says, straightening his cuff. “You are-”
“A reflection of you and the firm, yeah, I know,” says Mike, dragging a hand across his face. “I got it.”
Harvey pauses.
“What?” asks Mike, meeting his gaze. “Am I going to get another lecture for interrupting you?”
Harvey smirks and shakes his head. “Donna,” he calls. “Send Mike here the Abberton files.”
Mike looks at him, confused. “What are the Abberton files? Is that a code? Are you throwing my body into the Hudson?”
Harvey smiles at him, smug. “Get to work,” he says. “You’re not leaving until those are on my desk, completely proofread.”
Mike salutes him on the way out.
Which is pretty much all they say about that. (And if Harvey notices the way Mike keeps rubbing at a dark red spot just beneath the collar of his shirt, it’s only because Mike is an oblivious moron who has too many tells.)
+
Mike may or may not have a heart attack when Donna shows him the files.
“That’s a lot of boxes,” he says.
“28,” she says. “14 folders each with an average of 20 pages per folder.”
“7,840 pages total,” they say in unison. Donna has the same smug smirk as Harvey, and Mike wonders, for a moment, if they’re related.
“Are you kidding me?” he asks.
“No,” Donna answers curtly.
“Yeah,” Mike says, looking from one side of the room to the other. “Didn’t think so.”
+
Rachel, bless her, offers to help.
“You look pathetic,” she tells him. “Also, I ordered sushi.”
“I love you,” Mike says, putting down his highlighter. “I’ll buy you caviar and squid and all those other disgusting, expensive foods you like so much.”
“Whatever,” Rachel replies, but she smiles anyway. “I got you Chinese.”
He blinks up at her. “Marry me,” he says. “Seriously.”
+
He sends Rachel home at 1 am. She doesn’t have to be here, and he feels bad, even though she (unconvincingly) insists that she could use the overtime. He stretches, groaning appreciatively when his bones crack. It’s nearly half past 3 am now, and he’s nearly done. He drains the last of his coffee, eyes the last stack of folders and gets to work.
+
It’s nearly 5 am when he finally finishes, and Mike could almost cry from relief. He puts the last of the folders away and locks the door behind him. He thinks about leaving the keys at Donna’s desk, and maybe camping out there for a few hours of sleep, but as he approaches, he realizes that the door to Harvey’s office is open, and as he gets closer, he realizes that Harvey’s still there.
Mike swallows. Suddenly, he feels tense, skittish, and he licks his lips unconsciously before he knocks quietly on the door.
Harvey looks up from the desk, and Mike swallows again. “I finished,” he says, but his voice comes out rough, and he has to clear his throat. “I finished,” he says again, dangling the keys in front of himself. “7,000 pages and change.”
Harvey watches him, and Mike stiffens reflexively, unsure. “Good,” Harvey says finally, looking away. “Go get some sleep.”
Mike leaves the keys on Harvey’s desk and walks out. Once he’s inside the elevator, he leans against the wall, the weight of exhaustion hitting him full force. He slumps to the floor, and by the time the elevator reaches the lobby, Mike is seriously considering tucking himself against the corner and sleeping here, but he represents Harvey, yadda yadda, and could he really get anymore pathetic (Answer: possibly).
In the end, he sneaks into the mail room, because he knows none of the employees will be until 10 am, and he slips into the ladies room, where there’s a comfortable couch he can knock out on.
He sets the alarm on his phone for 8:00 am and passes out.
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But you did and it's fucking amazing.
Thank you!
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well done here!!!
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cpatcha says fressona John!'
...maybe it is trying to make me give the meme a rest and go look at some Sherlock stuff?...doesn't seem likely. Maybe next week.
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Louis is really, the last person Mike wants to deal, even on a good day.
“Don’t forget,” Louis tells him with just enough of lip to make it threatening. “You don’t work for Harvey, you work for the firm.”
It takes a tremendous amount of effort for Mike not to grab the stapler on his desk and staple his own mouth shut. “I know,” he says, as calmly as he can manage. “It’s just that Harvey really needs these done by tonight.”
“Pity,” says Louis. “I need these done by this afternoon. Harvey’s little extracurricular projects can wait.”
Mike bites down a groan and swears under his breath when he feels himself flush at the insinuation.
+
Harvey can’t concentrate-unsurprising for someone who has essentially just pulled a 37-hour work shift, but he considers a shameful admission, regardless. He’s not 25 anymore, something that Mike unwittingly reminds him of.
Donna shoots him a raised eyebrow when she clocks in at 7:59 am sharp, but he ignores her for the most part. She brings him his coffee at 8:03, and they do a quick run-through of the agenda for the day. No court dates, just a meeting with a client at noon. (“He just wants reassurance,” Donna says, eyes running quickly through a memo from Jessica.)
She doesn’t press for anything, but she does divert most of his calls.
+
Louis checks up on Mike a little after lunch.
“Almost done?” Louis asks silkily, and Mike manages to check himself from flinching on a reflex.
“Yeah,” he says, reading over the paperwork. Sure, he’d had to Google a how-to, but it looks good enough. He does not look up. He refuses to.
Louis makes a few more pointed comments, but Mike isn’t listening anymore. Just says, “Yes, sir,” in a few well-timed places, and eventually, Louis leaves him alone, undoubtedly off to terrorize some of the other associates into doing his bidding.
+
Harvey watches Louis prowl the floor. It’s hard to miss, really, with that rat of a smile in an even rattier suit. He watches as Louis leans over Mike’s sectioned-off office. He narrows his eyes at the way Louis leers at the boy. It’s completely unsettling, but they are a successful firm and even he will grudgingly admit that Louis’ intimidation tactics do work very well when it comes to representing their clients.
Louis walks away after a few moments, and Harvey continues to watch as Mike puts down his papers and rubs his face in his hand. As he stretches, his neck twists and for a fraction of a second, Harvey sees it-not one, but two bright red marks, right at the base of Mike’s neck.
Unconsciously, Harvey brings his own hand up to his neck and rubs at a spot just under his jaw. After a moment, he blinks and with a quick shake of his head, brings himself back to Earth.
He has work to do.
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