Save the Last Dance: 4/5
Title: Save the Last Dance
Chapter Title: Bond and Jones
Fandom: Suits
Pairing: Harvey/Mike
Wordcount: 3700 for this chapter, 10,000 total
Rating: PG-13
Fic Summary: When Harvey refuses to take Mike to Pearson Hardman's Yule Ball because he's convinced their relationship is only physical, Donna decides to take Mike instead. Jealousy, fancy dancing, and hijinks ensue as some members of the firm show up with surprising dates.
Chapter Summary: The night of the Yule Ball finally arrives. Jessica brings a familiar date, Louis doesn't appreciate wizarding apparel, and after seeing Mike and Donna's insanely sexy tango, Harvey is afraid he's missed his chance.
“Are you sure the tuxedo’s not too flashy?” Mike asked anxiously, surveying his reflection in the hallway mirror and tugging at his bow tie.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Donna said firmly, reaching a hand up to still Mike’s twitching one and to straighten the tie. “Harrison Ford wore one of these in Temple of Doom. Would you call Indiana Jones too flashy?”
“Considering he got poisoned by Chinese thugs in that tuxedo, yes, I would,” Mike pointed out. Seeing the I-am-not-amused look Donna sent him in response, Mike added begrudgingly, “But...I suppose it did manage to make him look devastatingly handsome, even when he was stumbling around looking for an antidote.”
“That’s what I thought,” Donna said with a satisfied nod. She brushed off Mike’s sleeve and let her hands rest on his shoulders. “You ready, kid?”
“I suppose I’d better be,” he said, though he sounded unsure.
Donna leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek and said, “You’re going to knock ‘em dead, Mike. Trust me - Harvey won’t know what hit him.”
Mike gave her a smile and said, “I hope so. But no matter what happens, I just want you to know how much I appreciate this, Donna. You’re the best friend a guy could have.”
“Oh, I know,” Donna quipped, though the smile she sent him was warm and sincere. “Now, it’s time to stop stalling, get in there, and watch their jaws hit the floor.”
She slipped her arm through Mike’s and led him toward the doors of the ballroom. Donna rested her hand on the door handle for just a moment and, upon receiving a slightly nervous nod from Mike, she flung it open.
Okay, Mike thought with a gulp as they stepped into the room already filled with people, It’s show time.
------------------------------------------------------
Harvey Specter had been standing at the bar, staring disdainfully at the crowd of Pearson Hardman employees, and sipping a martini - shaken, not stirred - for half an hour, and he was already bored. Normally, pretending to be James Bond - complete with telling any beautiful women in the vicinity that he was a spy only pretending to be a lawyer - got him through at least the first couple hours of the ball, but this year its novelty had apparently worn thin.
Since the fantasy was no longer amusing him, Harvey discarded the martini and turned toward the bartender to order a scotch instead. If the firm was going to compel him into attending, he was determined to make them pay for it in alcohol. While he was giving the bartender his order, Harvey heard a wave of whispers make its way through the crowd behind him, and he whirled around in the hopes of finding something to enliven his party-going experience.
Upon seeing every eye in the room turned toward the main entrance, Harvey craned his neck to search for the object of all the attention, and from his vantage point at the bar, he could just make out the couple at the epicenter of the commotion. Even at some distance, Harvey could see why everyone was in such an uproar; the two new arrivals both looked like they’d stepped off the silver screen.
The man, tall and lanky with expertly styled blond hair, was dressed in a white tuxedo jacket, black bow tie, and perfectly tailored black pants, cut in such a way as to leave just enough to the imagination. His companion, meanwhile, was wearing a knee-length dress with artfully arranged straps that clung to her curves, the teal color of which, Harvey noted, set off her fiery red -
Oh God, Harvey thought as a terrifying realization hit him, that’s Donna. Which can only mean...
He shifted his gaze back to her escort, hoping desperately that there had been some sort of last-minute change in plans, but his hopes were dashed the second he took a closer look at the man’s face: it was definitely Mike.
When did Mike get so...hot? Harvey wondered in amazement, unable to pry his eyes away from his associate. I mean the kid was always cute, in an all-American sort of way, but nothing like this.
As he watched Mike make his way across the room, Donna on his arm, Harvey was startled at the sudden bolt of lust that lodged itself in his stomach and began to inch slowly downwards. He found, to his utter horror, that it took every ounce of his considerable self-control not to go over and grab his associate by the hand, drag him to the cloakroom, and remove every piece of that white tuxedo using his teeth.
“Boy, the rookie sure cleans up nice,” came a cool, appraising voice from behind Harvey’s right shoulder, which startled him enough to make him glad the bartender hadn’t brought him his scotch yet.
Not trusting his voice to work properly yet, Harvey merely nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on Mike, who was currently conversing animatedly with the pretty brunette next to Rachel whom Harvey assumed to be her date. After a few moments, he felt recovered enough to add, “Donna’s a miracle worker.”
“She certainly is,” Jessica agreed, picking up a cosmopolitan from the bar and pivoting to stand beside Harvey. “They make a handsome couple.”
“So did Liz Taylor and Richard Burton, look how that turned out,” Harvey said sarcastically, taking a sip of his scotch.
“Careful, Harvey,” Jessica warned, smiling knowingly, “Some less enlightened humans might construe such bitterness as caring.”
“The only thing I care about at this party is rapidly disappearing from this tumbler,” Harvey said dryly, tilting the glass to his lips to get the last drops of scotch.
“Ah yes, just a hint of alcoholism, that goes perfectly with the lone wolf image you’re trying to project. Really, Harvey, I should commend you on doing your research so thoroughly.”
“You’re one to talk, standing here drinking with me,” Harvey said defensively, though he put down the glass. “Where’s your date, hmmm?”
“Right over there as a matter of fact,” Jessica responded coolly, pointing toward the side door where a cute, but unassuming-looking blond man was scanning the room, presumably searching for her. She raised a hand in a little wave and sent him a smile, at which point his whole face lit up in the biggest grin Harvey had ever seen not on a small child receiving a pony.
“Where did you find him?” Harvey asked, impressed as always by Jessica’s ability to keep her private life private.
“He runs a little commuter airline,“ she explained. “He was my expert witness on the US Airways class-action we handled eight months ago.”
“And he asked you out?” Harvey inquired, intrigued.
She fixed him with an amused stare. “Actually, I asked him out - after the case had concluded, of course.” Harvey was surprised to see the unguarded warmth in her smile as she reminisced, “For our first date, he took me to see the dinosaur exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. For our second, he flew me up to his cabin in the Poconos. And the rest, as they say is history.”
“Well, good for you, Jess,” Harvey said sincerely. “About time you found someone who treats you like the goddess that you are.”
Jessica looked at him strangely for a moment, then said quietly, “You’re a sweet man when you want to be, Harvey Specter. Sometimes I wish you’d realize it’s not a liability in life like it is in the law.”
Before Harvey could think of how to respond, she surprised him by giving him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to meet her date. Harvey watched the pilot whose name he still did not know sweep Jessica off her feet in what appeared to be a bone-crunching hug before leading her out onto the dance floor.
Harvey had only watched them dance for a few seconds before his ears caught two voices engaged in a heated argument nearby.
“What in God’s name were you thinking, showing up here wearing that?” the first voice, which Harvey quickly recognized as Louis’s, was whispering angrily. Pleased at the thought that Louis was having a worse night than he was, Harvey took a few steps toward the cloakroom, which he identified as the source of the voices.
As he carefully positioned himself behind a pillar, so as to see, but not be seen, Harvey had to bite his tongue to stifle the giant roar of laughter that threatened to escape from his lips when he saw the reason for Louis’s anger. Harold, Louis’s associate and his date for the evening, was wearing what looked a bit like an emerald green bathrobe over an otherwise normal vest and pants ensemble.
“But...but...but you didn’t tell me that it wasn’t that kind of Yule Ball!” Harold was protesting frantically, his increasingly pale face causing the green of the robes and the red of his hair to stand out even more.
“I’m sorry,” Louis snapped, sounding not in the least bit sorry, “I didn’t realize it was necessary to specify that as one of New York’s most prestigious law firms, we would not in fact be having a Harry Potter themed Christmas party!”
Harold whimpered and drew back, finally getting up the courage to point out, “They are emerald green like you wanted.”
Louis let out a yell of aggravation and began pacing back and forth. Finally he threw up his hands and said, “You know what, just forget it. Go home. I’ll just go in there and pretend like once again, I couldn’t find a single person who liked me enough to come to this stupid thing with me. Better no date than one who looks like an Irish transvestite!”
With that, Louis stormed out of the cloakroom, giving Harvey only just enough notice to duck back behind the pillar. Harvey turned back to the cloakroom just in time to see Harold raise his hands in the air and throw them back down again before muttering despairingly, “But I do like you...” and slumping against a wall.
Harvey was just about to remind himself that he was not the sort of person who would even think about cheering up an underling he barely knew, even one who looked as dejected as Harold, when he heard a projected voice announce, “Ladies and gentlemen of Pearson Hardman, may I have your attention please? Sebastian Hardman wishes me to invite you all to the floor to participate in one of the Yule Ball’s most honored traditions: the tango-off! Anyone who thinks they have the passion and the steps, come on down!”
Harvey glanced briefly back at the cloakroom, but after finding that Harold had mysteriously disappeared, eagerly re-entered the main ballroom. Watching drunk and deluded co-workers dancing around each other, trying to act sexy was usually one of the only salvagable parts of the evening for him.
God, finally, Harvey thought, smirking to himself as he stepped closer to the dance floor, some real entertainment. He nearly dropped his new glass of scotch, however, when he saw Mike and Donna walking onto the dance floor amid the usual crowd of show-offs and wannabes. His first instinct was to laugh at the mere idea of Mike doing the tango, but something about the look in Donna’s eye stopped him. Still, he thought, even with Donna’s magic, there’s no way she could have taught Mike to tango in a week...
---------------------------------------------------------------------
“So the Van Gogh was hidden in the fireplace the whole time?” Mike was asking Sara, Rachel’s date for the evening.
“The owner actually thought I wouldn’t notice that he was covered in soot from shoving it up there minutes before,” Sara explained with a laugh.
“Being an insurance investigator sounds so exciting,” Mike said a bit enviously. “If I ever get tired of the law, I might give you a call.”
“Well, there’s a lot of paperwork, too,” she assured him, “I just try to gloss over that part - Rachel gets enough of it during the day.”
“Damn straight,” Rachel agreed, raising her glass of champagne in a toasting motion, causing Mike to laugh at seeing this rare glimpse of a slightly tipsy Rachel.
It was at this moment that the announcer decided to invite everyone to the floor for the tango-off.
“If you ladies will excuse us,” Donna said, grabbing Mike’s hand, “I believe that’s our cue.”
“Nice meeting you, Sara!” Mike called over his shoulder.
“You too, Mike!” Sara shouted back, before Rachel whispered something in her ear that made both of them break out into fits of giggles.
“Deep breath in, deep breath out,” Donna coached as they strode onto the floor. “Just remember what I taught you.”
“Dance from the heart, the steps will come,” Mike closed his eyes and repeated it a few times like a mantra, until he felt once more like the confidant, passionate dancer that Donna had taught him to be.
When he turned to look at Donna, his eyes were open, clear and full of purpose, causing the hint of a smile to ghost around the corners of her mouth as she whispered, “They’re going to be scraping Harvey up off the ground.”
“Who’s Harvey?” Mike whispered, staring into Donna’s eyes mischievously, “I see only you.”
“Oh, you have learned well, Grasshopper,” she said with an appreciative nod.
Mike wanted very badly to ask why Kung Fu was allowed in the tango, but Star Wars was not, but as that would have constituted breaking character, he ultimately decided against it.
Instead, he lifted their raised hands so Donna could walk behind him, in preparation for the start of the dance. Just before he lowered his head slightly to the left to convey mystery and sensuality - or so Donna said at any rate - Mike couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at Harvey, whom he was gratified to see was staring at him, eyes wide.
Mike thought about winking or blowing him a kiss, but decided that less was more, and settled for sending three seconds of smoldering eye contact Harvey’s way before looking down. Then the music began, and Mike stopped thinking altogether.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harvey had been under the illusion that he was covertly observing Mike and Donna until the moment that Mike’s eyes met his and he realized that, no, he had in fact been staring blatantly at them for the past five minutes. He was fully intending to look away and act like nothing had happened when Mike fixed him with a gaze so intense he felt quite incapable of escaping from it. There was a want in his eyes, hot and undisguised, that Harvey had never seen there before, not even in situations far more compromising than this.
The idea that Mike had no qualms about sending him a look like that in a room full of their friends and co-workers sent a jolt straight to his pants, but before Harvey had time to think on this further, the lights dimmed, the music started, and any thoughts not directly related to what Mike’s body was doing completely faded away.
For the first few seconds, the music was soft, just a whisper of bow on strings. While the other couples began walking each other aimlessly around the floor, Mike and Donna stayed almost entirely stationary - the only movement either of them made was Donna snaking her leg around Mike’s and sliding it up and down a couple times.
Finally, Donna bent her leg back and took a couple steps out from behind Mike, her hands dragging across his shoulders. At this point, both Mike and the music suddenly came to life, and as the strings began to increase the volume and pick up the pace, Mike grabbed one of Donna’s hands and spun her so she was pressed up against him.
By this point, the other couples on the floor had realized that they were very much out of their league and had stepped back to join the other awed bystanders, although Harvey only gave them a fleeting glance before concentrating once again on the main event.
When Mike extended his hand again, Donna did a graceful little twirl and, after striding back behind Mike, slipped her hands under his suit jacket, moving them up and down in time with the music. Mike threw his head and arms back, and in one swift movement, Donna had whisked the jacket from his shoulders. She continued to walk seductively around Mike before turning toward the audience for just long enough to send Harvey a brief, but very challenging look and to hurl Mike’s jacket directly at him. Harvey had just enough time to throw out his arms to catch it, but by that time neither Mike nor Donna appeared to be paying him any attention.
A drum began to beat out a syncopated tattoo to compete with the strings as Mike and Donna began moving around the floor in a close hold position, their feet alternating steps in perfect unison. Donna’s head was pressed against Mike’s right shoulder, his right arm looped around her back, and their other arms extended out as they manueuvered back and forth.
The unending give and take reminded Harvey as much of a battle as of a dance. One minute Donna would gain the upper hand, spinning toward Mike, her hair a whirlwind of flame, the next Mike had sunk them both to the floor, his hand trailing seductively up her extended leg.
Harvey could only watch, completely spellbound, as the music became faster and faster, and so did their footwork, each of them alternating little kicks between the other’s legs while keeping their bodies pressed impossibly close together.
Finally, as the violins reached a fever pitch, Mike spun Donna into a dip, at which point she lowered herself to the ground and snaked through his legs until she was seated on the floor, clinging to his calf. Harvey couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he watched Mike move like lightning to lift Donna from the ground and spin her swiftly around in a circle; afterwards, he released her only long enough to lower her nearly to the ground in an even more dramatic dip using only his left hand, while he lifted his right into the air in triumph.
There were a few seconds of stunned silence following this grand finale before the lights came back up and the entire room erupted into cheers and applause. Mike grinned and gallantly extended his other hand to his leading lady, which she took and used as leverage to elegantly return herself to a standing position.
In true theatrical fashion, Mike and Donna raised their joined hands into the air and took a joint bow before stepping back and repeating the process for each side of the audience. Harvey felt vaguely like he wanted to do something, go up and join the throng of impressed well-wishers or maybe run to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face, but before he could decide, he saw Mike winding his way through the crowd toward him.
A thousand things popped into his head to say: That was the sexiest dance I ever seen in the whole of my life; I’m going to mandate that all the associates take tango classes; you, me, men’s bathroom, sex, now. Somehow the one that came out when Mike was standing in front of him was, “Your jacket.”
“Oh, thanks!” Mike said brightly, taking it from him and clapping Harvey on the shoulder before grabbing Donna’s hand again and heading to the bar for a drink.
As Harvey watched men and women in formal dress clamoring to buy Mike drinks, he was struck by a strange clawing, burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. So accustomed was Harvey to getting what he wanted in life that it took him a full two minutes to realize that what he was feeling was jealousy.
No, not just jealousy, Harvey thought; he knew all too well that the bitter taste he was trying to drown with another scotch could only be one thing: regret.
-------------------------
Mike had just finished laughing at a surprisingly dirty joke Hoskins had been telling him about jurisprudence when his phone buzzed. He fished it out and read the text that had flashed onto the screen: Mission accomplished. Don’t stare. - D.
Mike’s head snapped up, and sure enough, the first thing he saw was Harvey leaning against a pillar, drinking a scotch, and looking thoroughly miserable. He was just about to get up and put him out of his misery when his phone buzzed again. No. - D.
He looked over to where Donna was seated at the other end of the bar, surrounding by her own group of fawning admirers, and shot her his most pathetic puppy dog expression. She responded by emphatically shaking her head from side to side and sending him another text, impressively never breaking eye contact while she did so. Don’t try the puppy look on me. I am immune. - D.
He typed a few words of response into the tiny keyboard and pressed “Send.” But he looks so sad! Please? - M.
Donna shook her head vehemently again. You’ve got to play hard to get a little longer, so he comes to you. Trust me. - D.
Mike sighed and sent her another question. How do you know he’ll come to me? - M.
Donna sent him a smile that looked very devious indeed. You should have a little more faith in me, Mike. Didn’t I tell you I had this all planned out? - D.
Mike glanced at the text, then up at Donna’s smile, then back down at his phone. You scare me sometimes, you know that? - M.
Donna grinned. I know. - D.
Read Last Chapter
Chapter Title: Bond and Jones
Fandom: Suits
Pairing: Harvey/Mike
Wordcount: 3700 for this chapter, 10,000 total
Rating: PG-13
Fic Summary: When Harvey refuses to take Mike to Pearson Hardman's Yule Ball because he's convinced their relationship is only physical, Donna decides to take Mike instead. Jealousy, fancy dancing, and hijinks ensue as some members of the firm show up with surprising dates.
Chapter Summary: The night of the Yule Ball finally arrives. Jessica brings a familiar date, Louis doesn't appreciate wizarding apparel, and after seeing Mike and Donna's insanely sexy tango, Harvey is afraid he's missed his chance.
“Are you sure the tuxedo’s not too flashy?” Mike asked anxiously, surveying his reflection in the hallway mirror and tugging at his bow tie.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Donna said firmly, reaching a hand up to still Mike’s twitching one and to straighten the tie. “Harrison Ford wore one of these in Temple of Doom. Would you call Indiana Jones too flashy?”
“Considering he got poisoned by Chinese thugs in that tuxedo, yes, I would,” Mike pointed out. Seeing the I-am-not-amused look Donna sent him in response, Mike added begrudgingly, “But...I suppose it did manage to make him look devastatingly handsome, even when he was stumbling around looking for an antidote.”
“That’s what I thought,” Donna said with a satisfied nod. She brushed off Mike’s sleeve and let her hands rest on his shoulders. “You ready, kid?”
“I suppose I’d better be,” he said, though he sounded unsure.
Donna leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek and said, “You’re going to knock ‘em dead, Mike. Trust me - Harvey won’t know what hit him.”
Mike gave her a smile and said, “I hope so. But no matter what happens, I just want you to know how much I appreciate this, Donna. You’re the best friend a guy could have.”
“Oh, I know,” Donna quipped, though the smile she sent him was warm and sincere. “Now, it’s time to stop stalling, get in there, and watch their jaws hit the floor.”
She slipped her arm through Mike’s and led him toward the doors of the ballroom. Donna rested her hand on the door handle for just a moment and, upon receiving a slightly nervous nod from Mike, she flung it open.
Okay, Mike thought with a gulp as they stepped into the room already filled with people, It’s show time.
------------------------------------------------------
Harvey Specter had been standing at the bar, staring disdainfully at the crowd of Pearson Hardman employees, and sipping a martini - shaken, not stirred - for half an hour, and he was already bored. Normally, pretending to be James Bond - complete with telling any beautiful women in the vicinity that he was a spy only pretending to be a lawyer - got him through at least the first couple hours of the ball, but this year its novelty had apparently worn thin.
Since the fantasy was no longer amusing him, Harvey discarded the martini and turned toward the bartender to order a scotch instead. If the firm was going to compel him into attending, he was determined to make them pay for it in alcohol. While he was giving the bartender his order, Harvey heard a wave of whispers make its way through the crowd behind him, and he whirled around in the hopes of finding something to enliven his party-going experience.
Upon seeing every eye in the room turned toward the main entrance, Harvey craned his neck to search for the object of all the attention, and from his vantage point at the bar, he could just make out the couple at the epicenter of the commotion. Even at some distance, Harvey could see why everyone was in such an uproar; the two new arrivals both looked like they’d stepped off the silver screen.
The man, tall and lanky with expertly styled blond hair, was dressed in a white tuxedo jacket, black bow tie, and perfectly tailored black pants, cut in such a way as to leave just enough to the imagination. His companion, meanwhile, was wearing a knee-length dress with artfully arranged straps that clung to her curves, the teal color of which, Harvey noted, set off her fiery red -
Oh God, Harvey thought as a terrifying realization hit him, that’s Donna. Which can only mean...
He shifted his gaze back to her escort, hoping desperately that there had been some sort of last-minute change in plans, but his hopes were dashed the second he took a closer look at the man’s face: it was definitely Mike.
When did Mike get so...hot? Harvey wondered in amazement, unable to pry his eyes away from his associate. I mean the kid was always cute, in an all-American sort of way, but nothing like this.
As he watched Mike make his way across the room, Donna on his arm, Harvey was startled at the sudden bolt of lust that lodged itself in his stomach and began to inch slowly downwards. He found, to his utter horror, that it took every ounce of his considerable self-control not to go over and grab his associate by the hand, drag him to the cloakroom, and remove every piece of that white tuxedo using his teeth.
“Boy, the rookie sure cleans up nice,” came a cool, appraising voice from behind Harvey’s right shoulder, which startled him enough to make him glad the bartender hadn’t brought him his scotch yet.
Not trusting his voice to work properly yet, Harvey merely nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on Mike, who was currently conversing animatedly with the pretty brunette next to Rachel whom Harvey assumed to be her date. After a few moments, he felt recovered enough to add, “Donna’s a miracle worker.”
“She certainly is,” Jessica agreed, picking up a cosmopolitan from the bar and pivoting to stand beside Harvey. “They make a handsome couple.”
“So did Liz Taylor and Richard Burton, look how that turned out,” Harvey said sarcastically, taking a sip of his scotch.
“Careful, Harvey,” Jessica warned, smiling knowingly, “Some less enlightened humans might construe such bitterness as caring.”
“The only thing I care about at this party is rapidly disappearing from this tumbler,” Harvey said dryly, tilting the glass to his lips to get the last drops of scotch.
“Ah yes, just a hint of alcoholism, that goes perfectly with the lone wolf image you’re trying to project. Really, Harvey, I should commend you on doing your research so thoroughly.”
“You’re one to talk, standing here drinking with me,” Harvey said defensively, though he put down the glass. “Where’s your date, hmmm?”
“Right over there as a matter of fact,” Jessica responded coolly, pointing toward the side door where a cute, but unassuming-looking blond man was scanning the room, presumably searching for her. She raised a hand in a little wave and sent him a smile, at which point his whole face lit up in the biggest grin Harvey had ever seen not on a small child receiving a pony.
“Where did you find him?” Harvey asked, impressed as always by Jessica’s ability to keep her private life private.
“He runs a little commuter airline,“ she explained. “He was my expert witness on the US Airways class-action we handled eight months ago.”
“And he asked you out?” Harvey inquired, intrigued.
She fixed him with an amused stare. “Actually, I asked him out - after the case had concluded, of course.” Harvey was surprised to see the unguarded warmth in her smile as she reminisced, “For our first date, he took me to see the dinosaur exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. For our second, he flew me up to his cabin in the Poconos. And the rest, as they say is history.”
“Well, good for you, Jess,” Harvey said sincerely. “About time you found someone who treats you like the goddess that you are.”
Jessica looked at him strangely for a moment, then said quietly, “You’re a sweet man when you want to be, Harvey Specter. Sometimes I wish you’d realize it’s not a liability in life like it is in the law.”
Before Harvey could think of how to respond, she surprised him by giving him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to meet her date. Harvey watched the pilot whose name he still did not know sweep Jessica off her feet in what appeared to be a bone-crunching hug before leading her out onto the dance floor.
Harvey had only watched them dance for a few seconds before his ears caught two voices engaged in a heated argument nearby.
“What in God’s name were you thinking, showing up here wearing that?” the first voice, which Harvey quickly recognized as Louis’s, was whispering angrily. Pleased at the thought that Louis was having a worse night than he was, Harvey took a few steps toward the cloakroom, which he identified as the source of the voices.
As he carefully positioned himself behind a pillar, so as to see, but not be seen, Harvey had to bite his tongue to stifle the giant roar of laughter that threatened to escape from his lips when he saw the reason for Louis’s anger. Harold, Louis’s associate and his date for the evening, was wearing what looked a bit like an emerald green bathrobe over an otherwise normal vest and pants ensemble.
“But...but...but you didn’t tell me that it wasn’t that kind of Yule Ball!” Harold was protesting frantically, his increasingly pale face causing the green of the robes and the red of his hair to stand out even more.
“I’m sorry,” Louis snapped, sounding not in the least bit sorry, “I didn’t realize it was necessary to specify that as one of New York’s most prestigious law firms, we would not in fact be having a Harry Potter themed Christmas party!”
Harold whimpered and drew back, finally getting up the courage to point out, “They are emerald green like you wanted.”
Louis let out a yell of aggravation and began pacing back and forth. Finally he threw up his hands and said, “You know what, just forget it. Go home. I’ll just go in there and pretend like once again, I couldn’t find a single person who liked me enough to come to this stupid thing with me. Better no date than one who looks like an Irish transvestite!”
With that, Louis stormed out of the cloakroom, giving Harvey only just enough notice to duck back behind the pillar. Harvey turned back to the cloakroom just in time to see Harold raise his hands in the air and throw them back down again before muttering despairingly, “But I do like you...” and slumping against a wall.
Harvey was just about to remind himself that he was not the sort of person who would even think about cheering up an underling he barely knew, even one who looked as dejected as Harold, when he heard a projected voice announce, “Ladies and gentlemen of Pearson Hardman, may I have your attention please? Sebastian Hardman wishes me to invite you all to the floor to participate in one of the Yule Ball’s most honored traditions: the tango-off! Anyone who thinks they have the passion and the steps, come on down!”
Harvey glanced briefly back at the cloakroom, but after finding that Harold had mysteriously disappeared, eagerly re-entered the main ballroom. Watching drunk and deluded co-workers dancing around each other, trying to act sexy was usually one of the only salvagable parts of the evening for him.
God, finally, Harvey thought, smirking to himself as he stepped closer to the dance floor, some real entertainment. He nearly dropped his new glass of scotch, however, when he saw Mike and Donna walking onto the dance floor amid the usual crowd of show-offs and wannabes. His first instinct was to laugh at the mere idea of Mike doing the tango, but something about the look in Donna’s eye stopped him. Still, he thought, even with Donna’s magic, there’s no way she could have taught Mike to tango in a week...
---------------------------------------------------------------------
“So the Van Gogh was hidden in the fireplace the whole time?” Mike was asking Sara, Rachel’s date for the evening.
“The owner actually thought I wouldn’t notice that he was covered in soot from shoving it up there minutes before,” Sara explained with a laugh.
“Being an insurance investigator sounds so exciting,” Mike said a bit enviously. “If I ever get tired of the law, I might give you a call.”
“Well, there’s a lot of paperwork, too,” she assured him, “I just try to gloss over that part - Rachel gets enough of it during the day.”
“Damn straight,” Rachel agreed, raising her glass of champagne in a toasting motion, causing Mike to laugh at seeing this rare glimpse of a slightly tipsy Rachel.
It was at this moment that the announcer decided to invite everyone to the floor for the tango-off.
“If you ladies will excuse us,” Donna said, grabbing Mike’s hand, “I believe that’s our cue.”
“Nice meeting you, Sara!” Mike called over his shoulder.
“You too, Mike!” Sara shouted back, before Rachel whispered something in her ear that made both of them break out into fits of giggles.
“Deep breath in, deep breath out,” Donna coached as they strode onto the floor. “Just remember what I taught you.”
“Dance from the heart, the steps will come,” Mike closed his eyes and repeated it a few times like a mantra, until he felt once more like the confidant, passionate dancer that Donna had taught him to be.
When he turned to look at Donna, his eyes were open, clear and full of purpose, causing the hint of a smile to ghost around the corners of her mouth as she whispered, “They’re going to be scraping Harvey up off the ground.”
“Who’s Harvey?” Mike whispered, staring into Donna’s eyes mischievously, “I see only you.”
“Oh, you have learned well, Grasshopper,” she said with an appreciative nod.
Mike wanted very badly to ask why Kung Fu was allowed in the tango, but Star Wars was not, but as that would have constituted breaking character, he ultimately decided against it.
Instead, he lifted their raised hands so Donna could walk behind him, in preparation for the start of the dance. Just before he lowered his head slightly to the left to convey mystery and sensuality - or so Donna said at any rate - Mike couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at Harvey, whom he was gratified to see was staring at him, eyes wide.
Mike thought about winking or blowing him a kiss, but decided that less was more, and settled for sending three seconds of smoldering eye contact Harvey’s way before looking down. Then the music began, and Mike stopped thinking altogether.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harvey had been under the illusion that he was covertly observing Mike and Donna until the moment that Mike’s eyes met his and he realized that, no, he had in fact been staring blatantly at them for the past five minutes. He was fully intending to look away and act like nothing had happened when Mike fixed him with a gaze so intense he felt quite incapable of escaping from it. There was a want in his eyes, hot and undisguised, that Harvey had never seen there before, not even in situations far more compromising than this.
The idea that Mike had no qualms about sending him a look like that in a room full of their friends and co-workers sent a jolt straight to his pants, but before Harvey had time to think on this further, the lights dimmed, the music started, and any thoughts not directly related to what Mike’s body was doing completely faded away.
For the first few seconds, the music was soft, just a whisper of bow on strings. While the other couples began walking each other aimlessly around the floor, Mike and Donna stayed almost entirely stationary - the only movement either of them made was Donna snaking her leg around Mike’s and sliding it up and down a couple times.
Finally, Donna bent her leg back and took a couple steps out from behind Mike, her hands dragging across his shoulders. At this point, both Mike and the music suddenly came to life, and as the strings began to increase the volume and pick up the pace, Mike grabbed one of Donna’s hands and spun her so she was pressed up against him.
By this point, the other couples on the floor had realized that they were very much out of their league and had stepped back to join the other awed bystanders, although Harvey only gave them a fleeting glance before concentrating once again on the main event.
When Mike extended his hand again, Donna did a graceful little twirl and, after striding back behind Mike, slipped her hands under his suit jacket, moving them up and down in time with the music. Mike threw his head and arms back, and in one swift movement, Donna had whisked the jacket from his shoulders. She continued to walk seductively around Mike before turning toward the audience for just long enough to send Harvey a brief, but very challenging look and to hurl Mike’s jacket directly at him. Harvey had just enough time to throw out his arms to catch it, but by that time neither Mike nor Donna appeared to be paying him any attention.
A drum began to beat out a syncopated tattoo to compete with the strings as Mike and Donna began moving around the floor in a close hold position, their feet alternating steps in perfect unison. Donna’s head was pressed against Mike’s right shoulder, his right arm looped around her back, and their other arms extended out as they manueuvered back and forth.
The unending give and take reminded Harvey as much of a battle as of a dance. One minute Donna would gain the upper hand, spinning toward Mike, her hair a whirlwind of flame, the next Mike had sunk them both to the floor, his hand trailing seductively up her extended leg.
Harvey could only watch, completely spellbound, as the music became faster and faster, and so did their footwork, each of them alternating little kicks between the other’s legs while keeping their bodies pressed impossibly close together.
Finally, as the violins reached a fever pitch, Mike spun Donna into a dip, at which point she lowered herself to the ground and snaked through his legs until she was seated on the floor, clinging to his calf. Harvey couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he watched Mike move like lightning to lift Donna from the ground and spin her swiftly around in a circle; afterwards, he released her only long enough to lower her nearly to the ground in an even more dramatic dip using only his left hand, while he lifted his right into the air in triumph.
There were a few seconds of stunned silence following this grand finale before the lights came back up and the entire room erupted into cheers and applause. Mike grinned and gallantly extended his other hand to his leading lady, which she took and used as leverage to elegantly return herself to a standing position.
In true theatrical fashion, Mike and Donna raised their joined hands into the air and took a joint bow before stepping back and repeating the process for each side of the audience. Harvey felt vaguely like he wanted to do something, go up and join the throng of impressed well-wishers or maybe run to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face, but before he could decide, he saw Mike winding his way through the crowd toward him.
A thousand things popped into his head to say: That was the sexiest dance I ever seen in the whole of my life; I’m going to mandate that all the associates take tango classes; you, me, men’s bathroom, sex, now. Somehow the one that came out when Mike was standing in front of him was, “Your jacket.”
“Oh, thanks!” Mike said brightly, taking it from him and clapping Harvey on the shoulder before grabbing Donna’s hand again and heading to the bar for a drink.
As Harvey watched men and women in formal dress clamoring to buy Mike drinks, he was struck by a strange clawing, burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. So accustomed was Harvey to getting what he wanted in life that it took him a full two minutes to realize that what he was feeling was jealousy.
No, not just jealousy, Harvey thought; he knew all too well that the bitter taste he was trying to drown with another scotch could only be one thing: regret.
-------------------------
Mike had just finished laughing at a surprisingly dirty joke Hoskins had been telling him about jurisprudence when his phone buzzed. He fished it out and read the text that had flashed onto the screen: Mission accomplished. Don’t stare. - D.
Mike’s head snapped up, and sure enough, the first thing he saw was Harvey leaning against a pillar, drinking a scotch, and looking thoroughly miserable. He was just about to get up and put him out of his misery when his phone buzzed again. No. - D.
He looked over to where Donna was seated at the other end of the bar, surrounding by her own group of fawning admirers, and shot her his most pathetic puppy dog expression. She responded by emphatically shaking her head from side to side and sending him another text, impressively never breaking eye contact while she did so. Don’t try the puppy look on me. I am immune. - D.
He typed a few words of response into the tiny keyboard and pressed “Send.” But he looks so sad! Please? - M.
Donna shook her head vehemently again. You’ve got to play hard to get a little longer, so he comes to you. Trust me. - D.
Mike sighed and sent her another question. How do you know he’ll come to me? - M.
Donna sent him a smile that looked very devious indeed. You should have a little more faith in me, Mike. Didn’t I tell you I had this all planned out? - D.
Mike glanced at the text, then up at Donna’s smile, then back down at his phone. You scare me sometimes, you know that? - M.
Donna grinned. I know. - D.
Read Last Chapter