Full of It

Missing Scene from She Knows, Ep. 2.01

A/N: This scene takes place sometime between the conversation between Harvey and Mike once Mike has realized that Jessica knows (which was truncated by Donna's announcement about the death of Alicia Hardman) and the funeral that Harvey and Jessica attend. Honestly, as great as this episode was – I was really struck and frustrated by the fact that Mike essentially bared his soul to Jessica at their dinner, and then 2 hours later she was telling Harvey his associate was "full of shit." This is my way of resolving that unaddressed issue. Also, sorry for the crappy title - I drew a blank.

Disclaimer: I so don't own this show, it's characters, or Harvey and Mike's awesome bromance. I do own, however, any and all errors, typos, or discrepancies and apologize in advance should any occur.

INT. Harvey's Office

"Look kid, we've been over this. Jessica knows, she told me to fire you – but it's not gonna happen."

Mike was sitting on the couch in Harvey's office, elbows on his knees, chewing on his thumbnail like it was his last meal. Harvey was standing behind his desk—one hand deep in his pocket while the other shuffled some papers halfheartedly. His lips turned up in a smirk at his associate's obvious panic, but the amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. There were real things at stake here, and not just for Mike.

"You said she talked to you after our dinner, right? What exactly did she say?"

"How does this help, Mike?"

Mike looked up at him, his blue eyes swirling with fear and desperate curiosity. Harvey sighed and rolled his eyes, the smirk reappearing on his face.

"She said your Harvard record was squeaky clean. But no record of undergraduate work. And she said you were full of shit."

Mike nodded his head, slowly at first and then faster. Harvey could see his wheels turning, his ridiculous memory replaying every frame from his dinner scene with Jessica Pearson. And then, he stopped mid-nod and changed direction, giving his head a sudden shake before turning it to stare out the window.

"She said I was full of shit? Seriously? Jesus…"

Harvey raised his eyebrows, incredulous.

"Yeah, that's what she said. So what? Mike, you're a scrawny kid, you can't convince me you didn't hear plenty worse on the playground."

Mike gave a half laugh that lost its way somewhere in his throat and glanced up at Harvey.

"Yeah, I know. It's just—"

Harvey's gut gave an uncomfortable lurch and his desire to leave this conversation doubled. Mike was about to sharesomething.

"It's just—I told her about my parents." Mike ran a hand through his hair roughly, his voice tinged with disbelief. Then, his eyes got wider. "Shit, I got kind of…"

His voice trailed off and he gave the tiniest glance at Harvey before staring determinedly at the floor. Even from that angle, Harvey could see the flush of pink creep up into the kid's face. His discomfort was growing by the second and he knew he ought to shut the conversation down, but instead he found himself moving from behind his desk, closer to the couch where his associate was camped.

"What?" He asked, before he could stop himself.

Mike hesitated a moment longer, and then responded in a quiet voice, laced with embarrassment – his eyes still boring a hole through Harvey's expensive, imported rug.

"I got a little emotional."

Harvey grinned before he could stop himself, but Mike didn't see it. He had covered his face with his hands. Harvey knew he was still replaying the scene in his head. Picturing Jessica's face as he told his story, picturing his own face—open and earnest, and then considering what Jessica—who knew his secret—was thinking while he choked over memories. A muffled groan escaped through Mike's hands before he lowered them.

"Jesus – she really said I was full of shit?"

"Wait, back up a minute. Did you really just tell me that you cried in front of Jessica Pearson, managing partner of this firm? The same Jessica Pearson who reamed you out after that associate's mock trial for being too weak to go in for the kill? And you actually thought this dinner was successful?"

The incredulous grin was irrepressibly overtaking Harvey's face and he was amused to see that his associate's face—which instinctively turned towards him in response to his question—was now full-fledged fire engine red. He almost felt bad for embarrassing the kid so much, but he wasn't doing him any favors by letting him hold onto his weaknesses.

"I didn't… cry—" Mike started, looking away from Harvey again. But Harvey cut in before he could continue.

"Wouldn't be the first time…"

He shook his head and grinned down at his associate—watched as Mike's walls went up even as he stood up from the couch, feisty strength replacing the wounded openness.

"You know what? Screw you, Harvey" Mike said, bite in his words but no real sting. "I was trying to show vulnerability. Sincerity. You know, the things that make people trust you? Maybe you oughta try it some time."

"Yeah, cause that worked out so well for you, Lloyd Dobler." Harvey shot back, humor still underlining his words. Mike stared at him for a split second, and he watched as the reality of the circumstances moved back in to eclipse the kid's momentary defensiveness. Mike walked past Harvey towards the window and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

"God, I am so screwed."

"Hey—" Harvey started, instinctively clamping his hand on Mike's shoulder as he passed. Mike turned, startled by the touch, and they looked at one another.

Harvey had had his next witty quip locked and loaded, but it died in his mouth when he met Mike's gaze. He could practically feel the worry rolling off of Mike, traveling down his own arm like an electric current through a wire. And though you never could have paid him to admit it, it touched him. He gave the tiniest squeeze of his hand on Mike's shoulder before pulling it away.

"You're not screwed. We're not screwed."

Mike held his gaze for a moment longer, eyes searching for the authenticity of Harvey's statement. And then he nodded.

"What'd you tell her anyway?" Harvey said, more to move past the sentimental moment than anything else.

Mike hesitated again for a just a moment, and then glanced up at Harvey with a valiant attempt at a lighthearted smile.

"I told her my parents died in a wreck when I was 11. There was a case, but I didn't realize it…"

"Because you were eleven." Harvey said slowly, as if stating the obvious.

Mike rolled his eyes, sounding exasperated and yet comforted, despite himself.

"Yeah, cause I was a kid. But I told her I felt so helpless. And that I never wanted to feel that way again."

Mike looked down again, staring at his own hand. He could feel the burn in his cheeks again. He'd told the truth – at that dinner. And not just any truth – but a hard truth he'd never told anyone before. He'd exposed himself to a woman who had already decided not to trust him. And now, rather than help him, his openness with Jessica had made her think he was weak—just as Harvey had implied—another reason to add to the already lengthy list of why he didn't belong at Pearson Hardman.

"So much for that, huh?" He said with an embarrassingly shaky voice and another mirthless laugh.

Harvey studied his associate, his own wheels now turning. Mike's story hadn't surprised him, but it was another piece of the puzzle and suddenly several other pieces made more sense. It explained the kid's raw edges, but also the way he followed Harvey around like a lost puppy, mimicking his easy confidence and unaffected demeanor—outward signs of someone who was immune to helplessness. Mostly.

He sighed again, and gave the kid a steady look, mouth eased into his classic cocky smile, but eyes earnest.

"So much for what? Not feeling helpless? Come on, Junior. Look, you're a leaky faucet for sure, and you might want to get that checked out because that's not really my area."

Mike rolled his eyes and managed a genuine half smile.

"But when it comes to this crap—" Harvey continued, gesturing in general reference to the situation at hand. "—You're not helpless. You know why?"

This time Mike's smile reached his eyes, and his laugh carried both knowing incredulity and relief. He looked at Harvey, appreciative and a little sheepish.

"Why? Because I've got the great Harvey Specter in my corner?"

"Damn right, kid." Harvey replied without missing a beat. "And we both know I'm the best damn closer in New York. Even when it comes to closing my boss."

He saw Mike's posture relax, finally, and allowed himself to do the same.

"Now, can we turn off the soap opera and get some food? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go." Mike said, eager to fall back into a comfortable rhythm. He reached down to retrieve his messenger bag from the floor and Harvey followed him out the door, risking one last pat on the shoulder for the kid, who—thankfully—didn't comment on the move.

"Message for you, Harvey." Donna said, handing him a yellow post-it as they passed her desk. He nodded in thanks and glanced down at it.

I saw that, Mr. Dad. You almost made me cry.

Harvey crumpled up the damning post-it and glanced back at Donna with an annoyed smirk. As he turned back to head towards the elevator with Mike, he tossed the balled up post-it over his shoulder and it hit Donna square on the head. She simply rolled her eyes and watched the two men go.

"Thanks, Harvey," Mike said as they walked down the hall.

"Whatever." Harvey said, keeping his voice low as if to avoid being heard.

Mike cracked a smile. "No, I'm just saying – that was really beautiful – what you said back there. It touched me… right here." And he bumped his fist against his chest.

"In fact, I think I might cry…" Mike continued with a mock waver to his voice.

The elevator pinged its arrival and Harvey rolled his eyes as he shoved his associate inside.

"You know what? You really are full of shit."

Fin.

A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read my first Suits fanfic. It was written more to satisfy my own needs than anything, but still I'd appreciate any feedback (especially positive!)