Spoilers/Timeline: General series/Set in the future

A/N: These two won't leave me alone. Not the worst thing in the world, but it really makes it hard to make it through a day where you have no writing time with little ideas buzzing around. In any case, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Suits doesn't belong to me. Title stolen from Kenny Chesney's Come Over.

She's been away for five days and he's fairly certain he can't last another one without her silently handing him memos and informing him in no uncertain terms that his latest success is all her doing.

Unlike the last time she was gone—the time they don't talk about—he's been vigilant about circumventing any attempt at bringing a temp in, instead delegating the role to Mike.

The kid bitches and moans for the first three days, but ultimately decides it's better than reviewing billable hours from last quarter, which Louis has the majority of the associates slaving over.

Still, Mike is no substitute and he's going to go crazy if he doesn't find the first Lawson deposition within the next ten minutes.

Running his hand through his hair, he aims her desk lamp at the low cabinet beside him. If it's not here...

Well, he doesn't really want to think about it.

Not after his inbox and her desk were dead ends.

It's late, the only other light in the firm, coming from his abandoned office. He probably should have left forty minutes ago, but finding it is personal now.

And Harvey Specter is nothing if not tenacious.

He closes the first drawer and begins rifling through the second, papers shifting and crinkling in the process. He's so focused—desperate—that he doesn't hear the elevator door slide open or realize that he's put the last three files he looked at back in the wrong places.

"And here I thought Mike was the only one still being house broken." She drops her bag on her desk, the file in his hand scattering across the floor.

Turning, he scoops up the papers and shoves them in a folder, shock registering on his face only for a moment.

"How do you find anything? There are just colors and numbers on these labels..." He stands, tugging his tie off. "And what the hell are the asterisks for?"

"Asterisks are clients whose conferences automatically get scheduled for mornings..."

The rest of her statement goes unsaid, but he understands. Knows it's her way of making sure certain people don't infringe on what little free time he has.

Pushing him aside, she opens the top drawer once again, her hip bumping his as she begins searching for the lost deposition.

It takes her a minute—maybe two—before she finds it, blindly handing it over her shoulder to him. She keeps flipping through the files though, exasperated sighs only broken by the toe of her shoe tapping against the cabinet. He laughs lightly as her eyes narrow realizing how much he's messed the order up in a few short minutes.

"How's your sister's baby?" He lifts an eyebrow, hoping she'll let him off the hook.

(He knows better.)

"She's good. Really tiny, but good." She stands and smiles, and he rightly recognizes that it's in thanks for ordering her to take the time off.

He'll rethink such suggestions in the future, but right now that smile, the warmth in her eyes, makes him feel re-energized.

Ecstatic.

"Come on, let's get to work." Picking up her bag, she pushes him forward, towards his office. "You can fix the mess you made tomorrow, after I give you a short tutorial on my filing system."

"Alright, as long as..." Grinning, he sinks into the couch, passing her a highlighter as she takes a sip from his glass of whiskey. "It's a hands-on lesson."

She laughs, handing him the glass, and spreads the depositions out in front of them.