Hi guys, it's yet another new story from me. I bet y'all love that. It's for a fill on the suitsmeme, asking for a crack!fic with Mike and Donna as fail spies.

Mike understood, in theory, what a FBI undercover spy was supposed to do. They were supposed to blend in, be unnoticeable. And get the job done. (They also could very well get a few chicks in the process.) Mike understood, yes, but he also knew that life was too short to actually be boring.

He decided to spice things up a little.

When Donna, his badass partner, got assigned undercover at Pearson Hardman, he was a bit bummed. Why had the Boss chosen her to do something fun? But, never fear, Mike persevered.

Two months after he had been without his flaming-haired beauty, he got a notice in his mailbox: the Boss had assigned him to duty with Donna, searching for someone who was smuggling information about the inner-workings of the American government and financials to the Chinese.

The Boss didn't mention how he was going to get a job at Pearson Hardman.

That was a mistake.

Geniuses like Michael Ross were not to be left alone to their own devices. Point being: Mike Ross, ordered to Donna's side, faked being a pot-head and drug-runner to get his undercover position. Because why not have fun with it?

It's not like he could actually be arrested. He was an FBI agent!

Donna was lonely. Sure, she was surrounded by pretty cool people, but she missed her puppy-like partner. She wasn't supposed to have contact with the Bureau after being assigned unless necessary, seeing as the bad people could trace her movements if they wanted to.

Her boss, a man named Harvey Specter, wasn't too bad. He viewed her as a goddess, and paid for all these ridiculous things she requested. It was great. But like she said, it was lonely.

She had her eyes on a few culprits, but nothing concrete. She knew how long these undercover missions could go on for. Screwing with a rodent-looking man named Louis was very fun, screwing with most Possibles was always fun, but she wasn't too sure he was smart enough to actually consistently smuggle information to the Chinese.

After two months, she was sick of it. She was going to have Bureau company, goddamnit, not stuck up men in ugly suits and trust fund babies.

She was alerted that yes, in fact, she would be receiving a partner, no, she could not actually live in a Bat Cave for the duration of this mission. The Bureau couldn't renovate any basement to make it look like that. No, she could not, ever, drive a car that looks like the Batmobile, it wouldn't be conspicuous, at all. Under no circumstances was she allowed to dress up like Batman, or Catwoman, or any other superhero-she was an undercover agent in the Bureau, this wasn't a movie.

Goddamn FBI.

When Mike stumbled into an interview she was holding for her 'boss' dressed up in a ratty suit, carrying a briefcase of pot, she almost started crying. She had missed her puppy.

That's when the fun began.

They fell into a routine of work-work-work-eat-work-analyze suspects. It was hard work, eating all this rich people food, doing work. Donna was sure that if she wasn't absolutely running her temporary boss's life, she'd be bored to tears. Being Harvey's God didn't fully occupy her attention, though, and sometimes, if she was well and truly bored to tearsshe'd start crying to throw Louis off. Harvey would buy her shoes afterwards, and she loves shoes.

Working for the Bureau was good.

Well, it was good, until the Bureau sent both Mike and Donna messages, telling them to hurry the fuck upwith their spying.

Donna huffed indignantly after reading her letter. She wasn't working fast enough for the Bureau, was she? Well, she'd show them.

Mike had a similar, but more embarrassing, response. He hadn't waited to read his letter upon its arrival, and instead opened it in the cubicle-farm. The associates avoided his desk after he stood up, pushed his chair away, and yelled, "THIS IS BULLSHIT! I AM GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU AMERICA, I AM!"

Nevertheless, Mike and Donna live to serve their country, so they spend the rest of the night debating on how shit should go down. Obviously the information smuggler is too smart to allow Mike and Donna's superb on-the-side-analysis to get him.

It was time for Plan B. They needed to find the perpetrator, and fast. Screw their undercover jobs at Pearson Hardman; they were spies and they were going to show it, damnit. The smuggler will be shaking in their boots after seeing them go all out.