Save the Last Dance - 5/5
Title: Save the Last Dance
Chapter Title: I Did It My Way
Fandom: Suits
Pairing: Harvey/Mike
Wordcount: 4500 for this chapter, 15,000 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: Acting on advice from Sebastian Hardman himself, Harvey finally admits he was wrong and asks Mike to dance. Meanwhile, Louis fulfills the wish of a would-be wizard
and Donna hops a ride from a very old friend indeed.
Author's Note: I just want to thank everyone who's reviewed this story - you are all wonderful human beings, and I can't tell you how much getting all the lovely feedback has meant to me!
Harvey was just finishing his scotch when he heard a pair of approaching footsteps and a deep, masculine voice, fully steeped in Southern twang, asking, “Enjoying my little shin-dig, son?” He turned to find an imposing man in a tuxedo and bolo tie hovering over him, smiling inquisitively.
“Mr. Hardman,” Harvey exclaimed, surprised, extending his hand, “A pleasure to see you again, sir.”
“Oh, I think you can drop all the Mr. Hardman bull hockey for tonight, son” the other man drawled out pleasantly as he shook Harvey’s hand in a bone-crushing grip. “Just call me Seb.”
“Yes, sir...er, Seb,” Harvey acquiesced hesitantly.
“That boy of yours is a mighty fine dancer,” Sebastian observed, gesturing to where Mike was whirling round the floor with both of Hoskins’ dates.
“Oh, we’re not-“ Harvey responded automatically, before realizing that the other man probably meant professionally. “Yes, yes he is.”
“And from what I hear, he’s shaping up to be a mighty good lawyer, as well.”
“The kid’s got enormous potential,” Harvey admitted, a tone of pride in his voice, ”but he still has a lot to learn about the law.”
“Well, that’ll come with time,” Sebastian said easily. “Why, I remember my first case, hell, I got so flustered I forgot which side I was arguing and broke my own witness! Hoo boy, did old man Mason tan my hide for that one!”
Harvey chuckled appreciatively before elaborating, “No, Mike’s actually pretty good under pressure, and he has an amazing eye for detail. It’s just some of the larger, less appealing truths of the law that he refuses to understand.”
“Uh-huh,” Sebastian said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his own scotch. “Just what sort of truths we talking about here?”
“He doesn’t understand that there isn’t room in the law for personal feelings. Insists on caring about every client like they were his best friend in the world.”
“Well, hold on now, that ain’t necessarily a bad thing,” Sebastian objected. “Law’s a big place, Harvey, and there’s room in it for lots of different kinds of lawyers, including the ones who care about people. Hell, if we had more of those, people’d probably make fewer jokes about sending us to the bottom of the ocean.”
“You do have a point there,” Harvey admitted.
“And, you know, I can’t tell you how it breaks my heart to see these idealistic kids who come into the law wanting to help people and come out of it just wanting to win. So if you’re telling me you’ve found one who can actually preserve that kind of heart and still succeed...well, son, I’d say you’ve got yourself a keeper.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” Harvey muttered, before adding quickly, “No disrespect intended, sir.”
“None taken,” Sebastian said amiably. He gave Harvey a long, piercing look, and Harvey was immediately reminded that under that veneer of Southern congeniality lurked one of the sharpest legal minds in the country.
Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, and Harvey, expecting more insight on the law, was surprised to hear instead, “Son, do you know why I made this Yule Ball a Pearson Hardman tradition?”
Harvey decided that responding with a mix of truthfulness and tact was probably best. “Word around the firm is usually that it’s some sort of evaluation of social skills.”
Sebastian let out a loud, cascading laugh. “Well, if that isn’t just like a bunch of lawyers, treating a holiday party like one more way to one-up each other.”
Harvey’s whipped his head toward him in surprise. “Wait, you mean it’s not?”
Sebastian took another sip of his scotch before admitting, “Now, I didn’t say that - the founding partners often use the ball as an opportunity to see which employees are running ahead of the pack. But that is not why I insist on throwing it every year.”
When Harvey continued to look at him inquiringly, Sebastian explained, “Thirty-five years ago, when I was still with Street, Mason, and Drake, I danced with Bethany James for the very first time at a Yule Ball much like this one. Proposed nigh on a year later.”
“And you lived happily ever after?” Harvey hazarded a guess.
“Nope,” Sebastian said with a laugh, “We made it five rocky years before she upped and ran off with a golf pro from Austin. Still gets two thousand a month from me, too.”
“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused,” Harvey said slowly, “Doesn’t throwing the Yule Ball just bring back some painful memories for you?”
“Hell no!” Sebastian insisted. “It reminds me of what it felt like to be young and in love with a pretty girl. What’s more, it just tickles me pink to think that on that dance floor out there, under all these tiny, twinkling lights, some other couple might be having their first dance, too.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, sir,” Harvey began a little hesitantly, “but that seems an awfully romantic view for a man whose been married six times.”
“Of course it is!” Sebastian said agreeably, “You think a man would actually get married six times if he wasn’t a romantic?”
“I can’t argue with that,” Harvey admitted.
“The point I’m trying to make, son, is that I intended the Yule Ball to be a night for milestones and romance, and, up until now, you have shown yourself to be mighty resistant to creating either.”
“No disrespect intended, sir,” Harvey interjected quickly, “I’m just not really the type to - wait, sorry, what do you mean up until now?"
Sebastian put his scotch on the bar and when he looked Harvey straight in the eye, Harvey was startled by the intensity of his gaze. "Son, never kid a kidder."
"Sir?" Harvey asked, though he had an unnerving feeling that Sebastian already knew everything there was to know.
"You have had your eyes glued to that kid all night," he said, pointing to where Mike was now standing at the other bar. "The last person I looked at like that cost me two million dollars and a beach house in Malibu.”
"No, I - I mean, he's not..." Harvey began, but Sebastian's gaze made him realize all at once why the man was such an feared cross-examiner. After a moment, he sighed and admitted, "I screwed it up."
"Did you hit him?" Sebastian asked evenly.
"Of course not!" Harvey exclaimed automatically
“Did you cheat?” he continued.
“No, I didn’t” Harvey admitted.
“Well if you’re willing to believe an old man who’s screwed up a lot of things in his life, then trust me on this - it ain't broke so bad you can't fix it.”
“I wish I had that kind of confidence,” Harvey said with another sigh.
“Hell, son,” Sebastian exclaimed incredulously, gesturing with his scotch for emphasis, “You’re one of the best damn closers in this city - or at least for what we’re paying you, you’d better be. If you’ve got a confidence problem, well, I’d say we’re all in serious trouble.”
Harvey smiled ruefully, and pondered Sebastian’s words for a few moments. Finally, he took a long sip of his scotch, replacing the empty glass on the bar with a loud clink, and shook the other man’s hand.
“Seb, thanks for the advice,” he said sincerely, preparing to leave, “but if you’ll excuse me, I believe there’s a milestone out there with my name on it.”
Harvey was just close enough to see Sebastian raise his glass to him and mutter, “Go get ‘em, son,” but was well out of range by the time he exchanged winks with a certain redheaded tango expert who had been watching the whole exchange.
------------
At the bar across the room, Mike had just taken a swig of his beer when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He nearly groaned aloud when he saw it was Louis, approaching too rapidly for Mike to have a chance at an escape.
“I really enjoyed your tango out there, Mike,” Louis began, brushing a hand provocatively over the sleeve of Mike’s tuxedo. “Maybe later you could show me how to -”
“Okay, you know what, Louis? Just stop right there.” Mike wasn’t sure whether his confidence came from the three beers various admirers had insisted on buying him or the fact that he had managed to pull off a semi-professional tango in front of all his co-workers, but either way, he was done putting up with Louis’s bullshit.
“I am tired of having to brush off all your flagrant attempts at hitting on me. It cannot have escaped your notice that I’m not interested. Here’s a thought - why don’t you dial down the creepy by about ten and go talk to the guy who’s actually interested in you?”
Louis’ face turned a bright shade of red and he began to shout, “Now you listen to me, Mike Ross, I am a junior partner, and you cannot speak -” He paused in his tirade as Mike’s words fully sank in. “What do you mean the guy who’s actually interested in me?”
“I mean,” Mike replied, the hint of a smile lurking on his face, “the kid in the wizard’s robes who’s been cowering in the corner all night, wishing to God that he hadn’t screwed up so badly so he could have gotten just one dance with you.”
“Harold?” Louis asked incredulously, instinctively glancing over to where the redhead sat slouched in the shadows, looking gloomy. “Don’t be ridiculous - he doesn’t like me, I ordered him to come.”
“Louis, do you know why I’ve put up with all your blatantly inappropriate sexual advances until now?” He didn’t give Louis a chance to respond or object before barreling on, “Because I knew that if things ever went too far, I could just ask Harvey - or Donna for that matter - to beat the crap out of you, and that would be that. But haven’t you ever wondered why Harold hasn’t reported you for sexual harassment?”
“Because he knows I’d fire him,” Louis submitted, though he looked less than convinced.
“Which would just double the millions any reasonable judge would have award him in the suit,” Mike shot back. "Seriously, Louis, it's pretty bad."
Louis looked at him suspiciously for a moment before heaving a little sigh. “Look at me, Mike - what choice do I have? Being aggressive is the only move I’ve got.”
“Uh-huh. And that move’s worked how many times, exactly?” Mike asked, shooting him the pointed, knowing look he’d seen Donna use so many times.
Louis thought back. “Okay, none in recent memory, but come on, do you really think it would make a difference? Nobody likes me."
"Harold does," Mike pointed out, "And trust me, it's not because you keep asking him to be your pony."
Louis had the decency to look a bit ashamed before muttering, "Yes, well, fun as this has been, I should go." He inclined his head to where Harvey was making his way toward them. "Wouldn't want to 'get the crap beaten out of me'."
Mike grinned before laying a hand on Louis' arm as he turned to go. "I wasn't kidding about Harold," he said sincerely. “Think about it, would you?”
He would have sworn Louis actually blushed just a little before disappearing once more into the crowd.
“Louis giving you any trouble?” Harvey asked as he approached, gesturing in the direction from which Louis had departed.
“I took care of it myself,” Mike said with a little shrug, determined to act detached despite how much he enjoyed the impressed expression on Harvey’s face. "Figured it’s about time I stopped assuming you'd be there for me."
"Okay, I guess I deserve that," Harvey admitted, turning his head to look at Mike.
Mike met his gaze head-on and said coolly, "Yeah, I guess you do."
Harvey was about to reply when a a tenor voice filtered through the din of chatter, singing a slow, expressive tune Harvey immediately recognized as one of his favorites.
Taking it as a sign, Harvey extended his hand toward Mike and and asked tentatively, "Perhaps you'll let me make it up to you with a dance?"
Mike glanced briefly toward where Donna was standing, holding up a hand to indicate that he should wait. “Why should I, Harvey?” he asked challengingly.
“Because they’re playing my song.” When Mike still seemed unconvinced, Harvey snuck a look at Sebastian - who gave him an encouraging nod - then let out a frustrated sigh and said, “Because your boyfriend’s asking you to dance with him, okay? Now come on.”
Mike glanced eagerly at Donna, who gave him a sage nod - which was good considering he was going to accept regardless - before relenting and taking Harvey's hand. “Now, was that so difficult?” he asked, giving Harvey a blinding smile that sent a current of warmth through Harvey’s body.
Mike pulled Harvey onto the floor, then right up against him, resting the hand not joined with Harvey’s on the other man’s shoulder; Harvey took the hint and wrapped his other hand around Mike’s waist as the two began swaying back and forth and turning in a very gradual circle.
“Yes,” Harvey said quietly after a moment.
“Yes, what?” Mike asked, confused.
“What you asked me before - it was difficult,” Harvey explained, raising his eyes to Mike’s. “I’m exceptional at many, many things, Mike, but knowing how to be in an actual relationship is not one of them.”
Mike stared at him for a few moments, his eyes filled with understanding and a touch of sympathy. “If I didn’t know you better, Harvey, I’d say you were a bit scared,” he said gently.
“If I didn’t know me better, I’d say you were right,” Harvey agreed with a nervous laugh.
“Well,” Mike murmured, moving even closer so that his cheek was pressed against Harvey’s, with one hand on his shoulder, the other at the small of his back. “It’s a good thing we both know you better, then.”
Harvey was glad Mike couldn’t see the fond smile that crept onto his face as he eagerly shifted his own position to a more intimate one. For a little while, they simply danced like that, Harvey relishing the opportunity of being so close to Mike after a week of what had seemed like solitary confinement.
But when the singer reached the part of the song about regrets, Harvey was reminded in a flash of the cruel words he had thrown at Mike which had started this whole fiasco, and he knew that there was one more thing that needed to be done before they could put this behind them.
“I’m sorry, Mike,” he said quietly, rubbing his cheek against Mike’s. “About what I said in my office. I know I hurt you.”
“Just don’t make a habit of it, all right?” Mike said after a moment, laying his head on Harvey’s shoulder.
“I won’t,” Harvey promised, wrapping his arms tighter around Mike to emphasize his point.
A few moments passed, the music crescendoed, and, out of nowhere, Mike began to laugh. Harvey leaned back to ask a bit suspiciously, “What’s so funny?”
“I just realized what song this is,” Mike said in way of explanation. “I Did It My Way, Frank Sinatra. No wonder you said it was one of your favorites - it’s practically your motto.”
Harvey was laughing with him, registering the truth of Mike’s statement, when a strange thing happened. He wasn’t sure if it was the song, or the lights, or the dancing, but when he looked down at his dance partner, he found that the rest of the room just faded away. All of a sudden, there was only Mike, smiling dreamily and staring up at him with those big blue eyes, his hair a little tousled from when it had rested on Harvey’s shoulder.
An intense rush of emotion swept over him, a kind of burning tenderness that a different man might have been tempted to call love; though that was a word Harvey was nowhere near ready to use, he could no longer deny that the feeling was unmistakably some type of caring.
As the singer demanded to know what is a man, if not one who shows the things he truly feels, Harvey decided that, once again, Frank knew best, and swiftly lowered his lips to Mike’s. Mike instinctively wrapped his arms around Harvey’s neck and deepened the kiss, coming up for air only momentarily before pouncing on Harvey once again.
They had been moving in such perfect unison that the kiss didn’t still their momentum for even an instant, and it was only when the music stopped and the lights came back up that they broke apart, accompanied, to Harvey’s great surprise, by applause and a few scattered shouts from the surrounding crowd.
Harvey felt his cheeks heat up, but when he grabbed Mike’s hand, intending to drag him off the dance floor, Mike merely laughed, raised their hands in the air, and took a bow like he had done earlier with Donna. Harvey was struck once again by the change that had come over his associate in the past week, and as his eyes swept over the crowd, he found the reason for the change leaning against a wall, staring directly back at him, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“May I steal your date for the next dance?” he asked Mike, leaning toward him.
“Hmmm?” Mike tore his attention from the crowd to look back at Harvey and ask incredulously, “Donna? You and I both know that isn’t up to me.”
Harvey laughed and agreed, “True, but I’m hoping she’ll be willing to give me one dance to make things up to her.”
“I hope so, too,” Mike said sincerely as Harvey turned to go. A few seconds later, Harvey heard Mike call his name, and when he instinctively spun around to see what Mike wanted, was shocked when the other man bounded over to him and pulled him into a passionate kiss.
Harvey barely had time to react before Mike had pulled away and murmured, “Just one dance, then you’re mine again,” before disappearing back into the crowd. Harvey could only stare after him in mild amazement for a few seconds before shaking his head vigorously and walking toward Donna.
By the time he found her, Donna was surrounded by a crowd of men - and a few women - begging her for the next dance. “I just don’t know which one of you to pick - it seems like Eeny Meeny Miny Moe would be the fairest.”
“Doesn’t that end with ‘My mother told me to pick the very best one’?” Harvey asked with a smirk as he caught her eye.
“And that’d be you, would it?” Donna asked skeptically, though she did push off the wall to make her way toward him.
“Give me a dance, and I’ll show you,” Harvey said, offering her his hand.
“First, I’m going to need to hear those four little words I love so much,” she said, crossing her arms.
Harvey rolled his eyes, laid his hands on her shoulders, and said clearly, “Donna, you were right.”
Donna’s eyes gleamed in triumph as she asked in mock sympathy, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She threw a quick apology over her shoulder before accompanying him onto the dance floor.
“Does this mean you’re no longer mad at me?” Harvey asked, placing his hands on her waist.
“No, you manning up and making it official with the kid means I’m no longer mad at you,” she corrected, linking her arms around his neck as they began to sway back and forth.
“How do you know I have?” Harvey inquired.
Now it was Donna who smirked. “I think having a make-out session in front of all your co-workers rather screams official, don’t you think?”
Harvey tilted his head as if considering this carefully. “Well, when you put it like that...”
Donna laughed before saying a bit more seriously, “I don’t enjoy being mad at you, you know.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Harvey said dryly, raising an eyebrow.
Donna rolled her eyes and admitted, “Oh, don't get me wrong, I adore playing puppet-master. But I would much rather do it for you than against you."
Harvey grinned and pulled her into an easy hug, murmuring, "Me too, Donna," before releasing her and resuming the dance. "I have definitely missed having you as my..."
“If you say girl Friday, I will smack you,” Donna warned.
“I would never,” Harvey insisted, looking appropriately outraged, “I was thinking more...consigliere.”
“What is it with men and The Godfather? I swear, the gene for appreciating Mafia movies is located strictly on the Y chromosome.”
“You know you love it," Harvey teased.
“Consigliere does have a nice ring to it," Donna admitted. "Perhaps I’ll have some new business cards made up.”
“I’ll buy you some for Christmas," Harvey promised, only partially joking.
"Yes, I’d like that, just put on them ‘Donna - " she stopped mid-sentence, catching sight of something on the other side of the room and directed Harvey’s attention to it with a whispered, "Oh, Harvey, look."
Harvey swiveled his head in the direction Donna had indicated and laughed in surprise at what he saw. Mike appeared to be doing a vaguely waltz-like maneuver with a smiling Harold, still wearing his wizard's robes.
"He has a good heart, that kid," Donna said with a smile.
"The best," Harvey agreed, adding suddenly, "Oh, this just keeps getting better."
He and Donna watched as Louis approached them and whispered something to Mike. After a minute, Mike grinned and stepped back to allow Louis to awkwardly take his place with a shocked, but eager-looking Harold.
“Who would have thought Louis had it in him?” Harvey asked incredulously.
“People can surprise you,” Donna replied with a smile, and Harvey got the distinct feeling she wasn’t just talking about Louis.
After he’d finished the dance with Donna, and quite a few more with Mike, the rest of the evening passed in a blur of dancing, drinking, and a lot of laughter, punctuated in Harvey’s memory by a few fleeting images - most notably Rachel dancing provocatively atop the bar, Seth drunkenly serenading a lampshade, and Gregory flirting rather shamelessly with the newest Mrs. Hardman.
So it was that by the time he was stumbling out into the softly falling snow, one arm slung around Mike's shoulders, the other around Donna's, Harvey felt like all was once again right with the world.
“I’m telling you, Harvey,” Mike was arguing only a bit tipsily, “Johnny and Baby at the end of Dirty Dancing is the sexiest dance in the history of film.”
“Bullshit,” Harvey insisted, “Al Pacino’s tango in Scent of a Woman blows it out of the water. The man was blind, for God’s sake!”
“He’s clearly not the only one!” Mike shot back.
Harvey stared at him stormily for a few seconds before erupting into a fit of laughter, which set Mike off as well, and soon they were both clinging to one other just to stay upright.
“Well, as much fun as this has been,” Donna said, neatly shifting Harvey’s arm from her own shoulders to the other side of Mike’s neck, “I’m sure you boys won’t mind if leave you to your own devices for the rest of the evening.”
“Hot date, Donna?” Mike asked, feigning hurt as he added, “What, I wasn’t enough for you?”
“Not a date,” Donna corrected, though there was a gleam in her eye, “Just an old friend from...out of town.”
“Any old friend of yours must do something incredibly cool,” Mike said, his eyes lighting up. “Let me guess - he’s a spy. Ooh, no, a Prime Minister. A championship race-car driver!”
Donna smiled mysteriously as she turned to walk away, calling over her shoulder, “No, just a doctor...but he’s got a ride you wouldn’t believe.”
“It’s a pity you only have the weekend with him,” Harvey shouted after her.
Donna laughed and called out cryptically, “Don’t worry about that - weekends with him tend to feel like they can last for years. See you two lovebirds on Monday!”
Harvey and Mike watched as she sent them a little wave and disappeared behind a building. While they were debating whether or not to follow her, there came in quick succession from around the corner a metallic thrumming sound, a flash of light, then utter stillness. When they stumbled over to examine the area, however, neither Harvey nor Mike could find any trace that someone had been there at all.
They looked at one another quizzically for a few moments until Harvey laughed nervously and said, “Probably just too much scotch.”
“Yeah,” Mike agreed, leaning on Harvey as they slowly walked away, “Definitely too much scotch.”
As they neared the corner where Harvey had instructed Ray to pick them up, Mike suddenly stopped walking, causing Harvey to nearly lose his balance.
“Sorry,” Mike apologized, steadying Harvey’s arm, “But I feel like I need to tell you - I’ve got a secret.” Upon seeing the pointed glance Harvey was sending him, he amended it to, “Okay, another secret.”
“You do?” Harvey asked, sounding extremely interested. He swiftly pivoted so both his arms were wrapped around Mike’s waist before he continued, voice serious but eyes twinkling, “Well, I think you’d better tell me. Potential liability and all that.”
Mike looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening, before throwing his arms around Harvey’s neck and leaning up to whisper, “I’m magic now.”
“Oh, you are, are you?” Harvey asked indulgently. “How did that happen?”
Mike pulled back to look him in the eye as he replied earnestly, “Harold showed me, when we were dancing. He taught me all the spells.”
“Go on then,” Harvey challenged. “Show me some magic.”
Mike gave the deserted, snow-covered street another thorough once-over before shouting, “Accio mistletoe!”
Harvey instinctively looked up in surprise and laughed aloud when he saw that, sure enough, there was a sprig of mistletoe attached to the lamppost just above their heads. When he looked back down again, his eyes were alight with desire, and he closed the distance between them until only a few centimeters remained.
Despite the freezing air swirling around them, Mike felt snug and warm as Harvey brushed a gloved hand against his cheek and began to lean ever so slowly toward him. Just before Harvey pulled him into a kiss that made his head spin, Mike heard him murmur, so softly it was barely audible, “Ten points to Gryffindor!”
Harvey admits to being my boyfriend and a Harry Potter nerd in the same night, Mike pondered in amazement, a few seconds prior to the kiss shutting down his brain function completely - Maybe the Yule Ball really is magic, after all.
Chapter Title: I Did It My Way
Fandom: Suits
Pairing: Harvey/Mike
Wordcount: 4500 for this chapter, 15,000 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: Acting on advice from Sebastian Hardman himself, Harvey finally admits he was wrong and asks Mike to dance. Meanwhile, Louis fulfills the wish of a would-be wizard
and Donna hops a ride from a very old friend indeed.
Author's Note: I just want to thank everyone who's reviewed this story - you are all wonderful human beings, and I can't tell you how much getting all the lovely feedback has meant to me!
Harvey was just finishing his scotch when he heard a pair of approaching footsteps and a deep, masculine voice, fully steeped in Southern twang, asking, “Enjoying my little shin-dig, son?” He turned to find an imposing man in a tuxedo and bolo tie hovering over him, smiling inquisitively.
“Mr. Hardman,” Harvey exclaimed, surprised, extending his hand, “A pleasure to see you again, sir.”
“Oh, I think you can drop all the Mr. Hardman bull hockey for tonight, son” the other man drawled out pleasantly as he shook Harvey’s hand in a bone-crushing grip. “Just call me Seb.”
“Yes, sir...er, Seb,” Harvey acquiesced hesitantly.
“That boy of yours is a mighty fine dancer,” Sebastian observed, gesturing to where Mike was whirling round the floor with both of Hoskins’ dates.
“Oh, we’re not-“ Harvey responded automatically, before realizing that the other man probably meant professionally. “Yes, yes he is.”
“And from what I hear, he’s shaping up to be a mighty good lawyer, as well.”
“The kid’s got enormous potential,” Harvey admitted, a tone of pride in his voice, ”but he still has a lot to learn about the law.”
“Well, that’ll come with time,” Sebastian said easily. “Why, I remember my first case, hell, I got so flustered I forgot which side I was arguing and broke my own witness! Hoo boy, did old man Mason tan my hide for that one!”
Harvey chuckled appreciatively before elaborating, “No, Mike’s actually pretty good under pressure, and he has an amazing eye for detail. It’s just some of the larger, less appealing truths of the law that he refuses to understand.”
“Uh-huh,” Sebastian said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his own scotch. “Just what sort of truths we talking about here?”
“He doesn’t understand that there isn’t room in the law for personal feelings. Insists on caring about every client like they were his best friend in the world.”
“Well, hold on now, that ain’t necessarily a bad thing,” Sebastian objected. “Law’s a big place, Harvey, and there’s room in it for lots of different kinds of lawyers, including the ones who care about people. Hell, if we had more of those, people’d probably make fewer jokes about sending us to the bottom of the ocean.”
“You do have a point there,” Harvey admitted.
“And, you know, I can’t tell you how it breaks my heart to see these idealistic kids who come into the law wanting to help people and come out of it just wanting to win. So if you’re telling me you’ve found one who can actually preserve that kind of heart and still succeed...well, son, I’d say you’ve got yourself a keeper.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” Harvey muttered, before adding quickly, “No disrespect intended, sir.”
“None taken,” Sebastian said amiably. He gave Harvey a long, piercing look, and Harvey was immediately reminded that under that veneer of Southern congeniality lurked one of the sharpest legal minds in the country.
Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, and Harvey, expecting more insight on the law, was surprised to hear instead, “Son, do you know why I made this Yule Ball a Pearson Hardman tradition?”
Harvey decided that responding with a mix of truthfulness and tact was probably best. “Word around the firm is usually that it’s some sort of evaluation of social skills.”
Sebastian let out a loud, cascading laugh. “Well, if that isn’t just like a bunch of lawyers, treating a holiday party like one more way to one-up each other.”
Harvey’s whipped his head toward him in surprise. “Wait, you mean it’s not?”
Sebastian took another sip of his scotch before admitting, “Now, I didn’t say that - the founding partners often use the ball as an opportunity to see which employees are running ahead of the pack. But that is not why I insist on throwing it every year.”
When Harvey continued to look at him inquiringly, Sebastian explained, “Thirty-five years ago, when I was still with Street, Mason, and Drake, I danced with Bethany James for the very first time at a Yule Ball much like this one. Proposed nigh on a year later.”
“And you lived happily ever after?” Harvey hazarded a guess.
“Nope,” Sebastian said with a laugh, “We made it five rocky years before she upped and ran off with a golf pro from Austin. Still gets two thousand a month from me, too.”
“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused,” Harvey said slowly, “Doesn’t throwing the Yule Ball just bring back some painful memories for you?”
“Hell no!” Sebastian insisted. “It reminds me of what it felt like to be young and in love with a pretty girl. What’s more, it just tickles me pink to think that on that dance floor out there, under all these tiny, twinkling lights, some other couple might be having their first dance, too.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, sir,” Harvey began a little hesitantly, “but that seems an awfully romantic view for a man whose been married six times.”
“Of course it is!” Sebastian said agreeably, “You think a man would actually get married six times if he wasn’t a romantic?”
“I can’t argue with that,” Harvey admitted.
“The point I’m trying to make, son, is that I intended the Yule Ball to be a night for milestones and romance, and, up until now, you have shown yourself to be mighty resistant to creating either.”
“No disrespect intended, sir,” Harvey interjected quickly, “I’m just not really the type to - wait, sorry, what do you mean up until now?"
Sebastian put his scotch on the bar and when he looked Harvey straight in the eye, Harvey was startled by the intensity of his gaze. "Son, never kid a kidder."
"Sir?" Harvey asked, though he had an unnerving feeling that Sebastian already knew everything there was to know.
"You have had your eyes glued to that kid all night," he said, pointing to where Mike was now standing at the other bar. "The last person I looked at like that cost me two million dollars and a beach house in Malibu.”
"No, I - I mean, he's not..." Harvey began, but Sebastian's gaze made him realize all at once why the man was such an feared cross-examiner. After a moment, he sighed and admitted, "I screwed it up."
"Did you hit him?" Sebastian asked evenly.
"Of course not!" Harvey exclaimed automatically
“Did you cheat?” he continued.
“No, I didn’t” Harvey admitted.
“Well if you’re willing to believe an old man who’s screwed up a lot of things in his life, then trust me on this - it ain't broke so bad you can't fix it.”
“I wish I had that kind of confidence,” Harvey said with another sigh.
“Hell, son,” Sebastian exclaimed incredulously, gesturing with his scotch for emphasis, “You’re one of the best damn closers in this city - or at least for what we’re paying you, you’d better be. If you’ve got a confidence problem, well, I’d say we’re all in serious trouble.”
Harvey smiled ruefully, and pondered Sebastian’s words for a few moments. Finally, he took a long sip of his scotch, replacing the empty glass on the bar with a loud clink, and shook the other man’s hand.
“Seb, thanks for the advice,” he said sincerely, preparing to leave, “but if you’ll excuse me, I believe there’s a milestone out there with my name on it.”
Harvey was just close enough to see Sebastian raise his glass to him and mutter, “Go get ‘em, son,” but was well out of range by the time he exchanged winks with a certain redheaded tango expert who had been watching the whole exchange.
------------
At the bar across the room, Mike had just taken a swig of his beer when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He nearly groaned aloud when he saw it was Louis, approaching too rapidly for Mike to have a chance at an escape.
“I really enjoyed your tango out there, Mike,” Louis began, brushing a hand provocatively over the sleeve of Mike’s tuxedo. “Maybe later you could show me how to -”
“Okay, you know what, Louis? Just stop right there.” Mike wasn’t sure whether his confidence came from the three beers various admirers had insisted on buying him or the fact that he had managed to pull off a semi-professional tango in front of all his co-workers, but either way, he was done putting up with Louis’s bullshit.
“I am tired of having to brush off all your flagrant attempts at hitting on me. It cannot have escaped your notice that I’m not interested. Here’s a thought - why don’t you dial down the creepy by about ten and go talk to the guy who’s actually interested in you?”
Louis’ face turned a bright shade of red and he began to shout, “Now you listen to me, Mike Ross, I am a junior partner, and you cannot speak -” He paused in his tirade as Mike’s words fully sank in. “What do you mean the guy who’s actually interested in me?”
“I mean,” Mike replied, the hint of a smile lurking on his face, “the kid in the wizard’s robes who’s been cowering in the corner all night, wishing to God that he hadn’t screwed up so badly so he could have gotten just one dance with you.”
“Harold?” Louis asked incredulously, instinctively glancing over to where the redhead sat slouched in the shadows, looking gloomy. “Don’t be ridiculous - he doesn’t like me, I ordered him to come.”
“Louis, do you know why I’ve put up with all your blatantly inappropriate sexual advances until now?” He didn’t give Louis a chance to respond or object before barreling on, “Because I knew that if things ever went too far, I could just ask Harvey - or Donna for that matter - to beat the crap out of you, and that would be that. But haven’t you ever wondered why Harold hasn’t reported you for sexual harassment?”
“Because he knows I’d fire him,” Louis submitted, though he looked less than convinced.
“Which would just double the millions any reasonable judge would have award him in the suit,” Mike shot back. "Seriously, Louis, it's pretty bad."
Louis looked at him suspiciously for a moment before heaving a little sigh. “Look at me, Mike - what choice do I have? Being aggressive is the only move I’ve got.”
“Uh-huh. And that move’s worked how many times, exactly?” Mike asked, shooting him the pointed, knowing look he’d seen Donna use so many times.
Louis thought back. “Okay, none in recent memory, but come on, do you really think it would make a difference? Nobody likes me."
"Harold does," Mike pointed out, "And trust me, it's not because you keep asking him to be your pony."
Louis had the decency to look a bit ashamed before muttering, "Yes, well, fun as this has been, I should go." He inclined his head to where Harvey was making his way toward them. "Wouldn't want to 'get the crap beaten out of me'."
Mike grinned before laying a hand on Louis' arm as he turned to go. "I wasn't kidding about Harold," he said sincerely. “Think about it, would you?”
He would have sworn Louis actually blushed just a little before disappearing once more into the crowd.
“Louis giving you any trouble?” Harvey asked as he approached, gesturing in the direction from which Louis had departed.
“I took care of it myself,” Mike said with a little shrug, determined to act detached despite how much he enjoyed the impressed expression on Harvey’s face. "Figured it’s about time I stopped assuming you'd be there for me."
"Okay, I guess I deserve that," Harvey admitted, turning his head to look at Mike.
Mike met his gaze head-on and said coolly, "Yeah, I guess you do."
Harvey was about to reply when a a tenor voice filtered through the din of chatter, singing a slow, expressive tune Harvey immediately recognized as one of his favorites.
Taking it as a sign, Harvey extended his hand toward Mike and and asked tentatively, "Perhaps you'll let me make it up to you with a dance?"
Mike glanced briefly toward where Donna was standing, holding up a hand to indicate that he should wait. “Why should I, Harvey?” he asked challengingly.
“Because they’re playing my song.” When Mike still seemed unconvinced, Harvey snuck a look at Sebastian - who gave him an encouraging nod - then let out a frustrated sigh and said, “Because your boyfriend’s asking you to dance with him, okay? Now come on.”
Mike glanced eagerly at Donna, who gave him a sage nod - which was good considering he was going to accept regardless - before relenting and taking Harvey's hand. “Now, was that so difficult?” he asked, giving Harvey a blinding smile that sent a current of warmth through Harvey’s body.
Mike pulled Harvey onto the floor, then right up against him, resting the hand not joined with Harvey’s on the other man’s shoulder; Harvey took the hint and wrapped his other hand around Mike’s waist as the two began swaying back and forth and turning in a very gradual circle.
“Yes,” Harvey said quietly after a moment.
“Yes, what?” Mike asked, confused.
“What you asked me before - it was difficult,” Harvey explained, raising his eyes to Mike’s. “I’m exceptional at many, many things, Mike, but knowing how to be in an actual relationship is not one of them.”
Mike stared at him for a few moments, his eyes filled with understanding and a touch of sympathy. “If I didn’t know you better, Harvey, I’d say you were a bit scared,” he said gently.
“If I didn’t know me better, I’d say you were right,” Harvey agreed with a nervous laugh.
“Well,” Mike murmured, moving even closer so that his cheek was pressed against Harvey’s, with one hand on his shoulder, the other at the small of his back. “It’s a good thing we both know you better, then.”
Harvey was glad Mike couldn’t see the fond smile that crept onto his face as he eagerly shifted his own position to a more intimate one. For a little while, they simply danced like that, Harvey relishing the opportunity of being so close to Mike after a week of what had seemed like solitary confinement.
But when the singer reached the part of the song about regrets, Harvey was reminded in a flash of the cruel words he had thrown at Mike which had started this whole fiasco, and he knew that there was one more thing that needed to be done before they could put this behind them.
“I’m sorry, Mike,” he said quietly, rubbing his cheek against Mike’s. “About what I said in my office. I know I hurt you.”
“Just don’t make a habit of it, all right?” Mike said after a moment, laying his head on Harvey’s shoulder.
“I won’t,” Harvey promised, wrapping his arms tighter around Mike to emphasize his point.
A few moments passed, the music crescendoed, and, out of nowhere, Mike began to laugh. Harvey leaned back to ask a bit suspiciously, “What’s so funny?”
“I just realized what song this is,” Mike said in way of explanation. “I Did It My Way, Frank Sinatra. No wonder you said it was one of your favorites - it’s practically your motto.”
Harvey was laughing with him, registering the truth of Mike’s statement, when a strange thing happened. He wasn’t sure if it was the song, or the lights, or the dancing, but when he looked down at his dance partner, he found that the rest of the room just faded away. All of a sudden, there was only Mike, smiling dreamily and staring up at him with those big blue eyes, his hair a little tousled from when it had rested on Harvey’s shoulder.
An intense rush of emotion swept over him, a kind of burning tenderness that a different man might have been tempted to call love; though that was a word Harvey was nowhere near ready to use, he could no longer deny that the feeling was unmistakably some type of caring.
As the singer demanded to know what is a man, if not one who shows the things he truly feels, Harvey decided that, once again, Frank knew best, and swiftly lowered his lips to Mike’s. Mike instinctively wrapped his arms around Harvey’s neck and deepened the kiss, coming up for air only momentarily before pouncing on Harvey once again.
They had been moving in such perfect unison that the kiss didn’t still their momentum for even an instant, and it was only when the music stopped and the lights came back up that they broke apart, accompanied, to Harvey’s great surprise, by applause and a few scattered shouts from the surrounding crowd.
Harvey felt his cheeks heat up, but when he grabbed Mike’s hand, intending to drag him off the dance floor, Mike merely laughed, raised their hands in the air, and took a bow like he had done earlier with Donna. Harvey was struck once again by the change that had come over his associate in the past week, and as his eyes swept over the crowd, he found the reason for the change leaning against a wall, staring directly back at him, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“May I steal your date for the next dance?” he asked Mike, leaning toward him.
“Hmmm?” Mike tore his attention from the crowd to look back at Harvey and ask incredulously, “Donna? You and I both know that isn’t up to me.”
Harvey laughed and agreed, “True, but I’m hoping she’ll be willing to give me one dance to make things up to her.”
“I hope so, too,” Mike said sincerely as Harvey turned to go. A few seconds later, Harvey heard Mike call his name, and when he instinctively spun around to see what Mike wanted, was shocked when the other man bounded over to him and pulled him into a passionate kiss.
Harvey barely had time to react before Mike had pulled away and murmured, “Just one dance, then you’re mine again,” before disappearing back into the crowd. Harvey could only stare after him in mild amazement for a few seconds before shaking his head vigorously and walking toward Donna.
By the time he found her, Donna was surrounded by a crowd of men - and a few women - begging her for the next dance. “I just don’t know which one of you to pick - it seems like Eeny Meeny Miny Moe would be the fairest.”
“Doesn’t that end with ‘My mother told me to pick the very best one’?” Harvey asked with a smirk as he caught her eye.
“And that’d be you, would it?” Donna asked skeptically, though she did push off the wall to make her way toward him.
“Give me a dance, and I’ll show you,” Harvey said, offering her his hand.
“First, I’m going to need to hear those four little words I love so much,” she said, crossing her arms.
Harvey rolled his eyes, laid his hands on her shoulders, and said clearly, “Donna, you were right.”
Donna’s eyes gleamed in triumph as she asked in mock sympathy, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She threw a quick apology over her shoulder before accompanying him onto the dance floor.
“Does this mean you’re no longer mad at me?” Harvey asked, placing his hands on her waist.
“No, you manning up and making it official with the kid means I’m no longer mad at you,” she corrected, linking her arms around his neck as they began to sway back and forth.
“How do you know I have?” Harvey inquired.
Now it was Donna who smirked. “I think having a make-out session in front of all your co-workers rather screams official, don’t you think?”
Harvey tilted his head as if considering this carefully. “Well, when you put it like that...”
Donna laughed before saying a bit more seriously, “I don’t enjoy being mad at you, you know.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Harvey said dryly, raising an eyebrow.
Donna rolled her eyes and admitted, “Oh, don't get me wrong, I adore playing puppet-master. But I would much rather do it for you than against you."
Harvey grinned and pulled her into an easy hug, murmuring, "Me too, Donna," before releasing her and resuming the dance. "I have definitely missed having you as my..."
“If you say girl Friday, I will smack you,” Donna warned.
“I would never,” Harvey insisted, looking appropriately outraged, “I was thinking more...consigliere.”
“What is it with men and The Godfather? I swear, the gene for appreciating Mafia movies is located strictly on the Y chromosome.”
“You know you love it," Harvey teased.
“Consigliere does have a nice ring to it," Donna admitted. "Perhaps I’ll have some new business cards made up.”
“I’ll buy you some for Christmas," Harvey promised, only partially joking.
"Yes, I’d like that, just put on them ‘Donna - " she stopped mid-sentence, catching sight of something on the other side of the room and directed Harvey’s attention to it with a whispered, "Oh, Harvey, look."
Harvey swiveled his head in the direction Donna had indicated and laughed in surprise at what he saw. Mike appeared to be doing a vaguely waltz-like maneuver with a smiling Harold, still wearing his wizard's robes.
"He has a good heart, that kid," Donna said with a smile.
"The best," Harvey agreed, adding suddenly, "Oh, this just keeps getting better."
He and Donna watched as Louis approached them and whispered something to Mike. After a minute, Mike grinned and stepped back to allow Louis to awkwardly take his place with a shocked, but eager-looking Harold.
“Who would have thought Louis had it in him?” Harvey asked incredulously.
“People can surprise you,” Donna replied with a smile, and Harvey got the distinct feeling she wasn’t just talking about Louis.
After he’d finished the dance with Donna, and quite a few more with Mike, the rest of the evening passed in a blur of dancing, drinking, and a lot of laughter, punctuated in Harvey’s memory by a few fleeting images - most notably Rachel dancing provocatively atop the bar, Seth drunkenly serenading a lampshade, and Gregory flirting rather shamelessly with the newest Mrs. Hardman.
So it was that by the time he was stumbling out into the softly falling snow, one arm slung around Mike's shoulders, the other around Donna's, Harvey felt like all was once again right with the world.
“I’m telling you, Harvey,” Mike was arguing only a bit tipsily, “Johnny and Baby at the end of Dirty Dancing is the sexiest dance in the history of film.”
“Bullshit,” Harvey insisted, “Al Pacino’s tango in Scent of a Woman blows it out of the water. The man was blind, for God’s sake!”
“He’s clearly not the only one!” Mike shot back.
Harvey stared at him stormily for a few seconds before erupting into a fit of laughter, which set Mike off as well, and soon they were both clinging to one other just to stay upright.
“Well, as much fun as this has been,” Donna said, neatly shifting Harvey’s arm from her own shoulders to the other side of Mike’s neck, “I’m sure you boys won’t mind if leave you to your own devices for the rest of the evening.”
“Hot date, Donna?” Mike asked, feigning hurt as he added, “What, I wasn’t enough for you?”
“Not a date,” Donna corrected, though there was a gleam in her eye, “Just an old friend from...out of town.”
“Any old friend of yours must do something incredibly cool,” Mike said, his eyes lighting up. “Let me guess - he’s a spy. Ooh, no, a Prime Minister. A championship race-car driver!”
Donna smiled mysteriously as she turned to walk away, calling over her shoulder, “No, just a doctor...but he’s got a ride you wouldn’t believe.”
“It’s a pity you only have the weekend with him,” Harvey shouted after her.
Donna laughed and called out cryptically, “Don’t worry about that - weekends with him tend to feel like they can last for years. See you two lovebirds on Monday!”
Harvey and Mike watched as she sent them a little wave and disappeared behind a building. While they were debating whether or not to follow her, there came in quick succession from around the corner a metallic thrumming sound, a flash of light, then utter stillness. When they stumbled over to examine the area, however, neither Harvey nor Mike could find any trace that someone had been there at all.
They looked at one another quizzically for a few moments until Harvey laughed nervously and said, “Probably just too much scotch.”
“Yeah,” Mike agreed, leaning on Harvey as they slowly walked away, “Definitely too much scotch.”
As they neared the corner where Harvey had instructed Ray to pick them up, Mike suddenly stopped walking, causing Harvey to nearly lose his balance.
“Sorry,” Mike apologized, steadying Harvey’s arm, “But I feel like I need to tell you - I’ve got a secret.” Upon seeing the pointed glance Harvey was sending him, he amended it to, “Okay, another secret.”
“You do?” Harvey asked, sounding extremely interested. He swiftly pivoted so both his arms were wrapped around Mike’s waist before he continued, voice serious but eyes twinkling, “Well, I think you’d better tell me. Potential liability and all that.”
Mike looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening, before throwing his arms around Harvey’s neck and leaning up to whisper, “I’m magic now.”
“Oh, you are, are you?” Harvey asked indulgently. “How did that happen?”
Mike pulled back to look him in the eye as he replied earnestly, “Harold showed me, when we were dancing. He taught me all the spells.”
“Go on then,” Harvey challenged. “Show me some magic.”
Mike gave the deserted, snow-covered street another thorough once-over before shouting, “Accio mistletoe!”
Harvey instinctively looked up in surprise and laughed aloud when he saw that, sure enough, there was a sprig of mistletoe attached to the lamppost just above their heads. When he looked back down again, his eyes were alight with desire, and he closed the distance between them until only a few centimeters remained.
Despite the freezing air swirling around them, Mike felt snug and warm as Harvey brushed a gloved hand against his cheek and began to lean ever so slowly toward him. Just before Harvey pulled him into a kiss that made his head spin, Mike heard him murmur, so softly it was barely audible, “Ten points to Gryffindor!”
Harvey admits to being my boyfriend and a Harry Potter nerd in the same night, Mike pondered in amazement, a few seconds prior to the kiss shutting down his brain function completely - Maybe the Yule Ball really is magic, after all.