A/N: I guess this can be considered a tag to "She Knows". I never could bring myself to write the mutltichapter story based on what would happen when Jessica found out the truth. After that premiere I guess I don't have the episode and loved all the Jessica and Harvey scenes…the fallout was nothing like how I imagined. It was both interesting and unsettling.

Disclaimer: I don't own Suits, Harvey or Jessica. I don't even own a skinny tie. Unbetead so all errors are mine. Reviews are very much welcome…I'm ridiculously out of touch with writing for them so I welcome any and all feedback.

~o~

Jessica Pearson sighed as she sank deeper into the hot bubble bath. She let the warm water rise to her neck, catching the few strands that hung from the messy bun piled on top of her head. She brought her knees up, too tall to fully stretch out and indulge in the bath the way she used to as a child. She snorted to herself, rubbing her forehead at the thought of how simple it was back then. Back when her biggest concern was finding a box of crayons with all the colors in them, reaching the swings before any of the other kids, or beheading the doll babies her grandmother got her, without the old lady finding out. God, things were simpler back then. Hell, things were simpler a few weeks ago. The past few days, however, had her more tense and stressed than her Harvard days. Mike Ross, Hardman, some bastard named Trevor, and Harvey Specter seemed dead set on pushing her over the edge of sanity. And she was already dangerously close to it as it was.

As if on cue, or summoned by God himself playing a joke on her, her cell rang. A Motown medley specifically set for Harvey. By Harvey nonetheless. How he got ahold of her phone she'll never really know. She ignored the music, trying to suppress her agitation. She threw her head back, rested on the back of the tub, staring at the tiles on the ceiling and breathing slowly until her eyes slid shut. Just as she thought maybe, just maybe, she'd have a handle on the relaxing thing; she heard knocking on the door.

"Dammit!" she muttered as she rose from the tub. She took her time putting on her deep purple robe and padding to the door of her apartment. Whomever it was brave enough to grace the threshold of her apartment at eleven at night would not only have to wait for her to get to the door but face her wrath the moment she pulled it open. One glance out the peephole was enough to make her blood boil. She clenched her fists tightly, let out an agitated sigh, and rested her forehead against the door, silently debating whether or not she had it in her to engage with him that night.

"Open the damn door, Jessica," Harvey said coolly, with just a hint of amusement in his tone. "I can feel the disdain emanating through it."

She gave an aggravated grunt before wrenching the door open forcefully and staring Harvey down. He was leaning against her doorframe dressed down for a change in a grey Henley and flannel pajama pants. His hair looked as though he had been raking his hands through it, a nervous habit he had years ago that he had sense ridden himself of. The standstill they were in, in their relationship, whatever their relationship was, kept her from being amused or entertained by the devilish smirk he shot her. She stared pointedly at him, her dark eyes never leaving his, and the barest hint of shame clouded his expression, so minutely that she easily could have imagined it if she didn't know him so well. Or…know him as well as she thought she did, that is. Given their current situation she wasn't sure if she knew him well at all.

"Am I interrupting something?" he boldly gave her a once over, forcing another smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I did call first you know."

He breezed past her, not letting the icy glare she was giving him deter him from entering her apartment. "I'm betting Merlot and a bubble bath?"

She bristled at his words. She always loathed when he called her out. He knew her better than she ever realized. She slammed the door shut and schooled her expression before turning to meet him, but she could feel his awareness of her displeasure. He was a perceptive bastard. More so than everyone she had ever encountered, and he always sussed out any and every thought or emotion rattling through her better than anyone she knew. She hated it. He knew she hated it, so when she finally did manage to bring her steady glare in his direction he was busying himself with pouring a glass of Merlot.

"Nice apartment," he said carefully, eyeing her with a hint of what she only could gather as curiosity. "I've never been here before."

"So why venture into uknown territory now?" she retorted sardonically. "What do you want Harvey?" she inquired icily. She fought off the urge to tap her foot impatiently as she thought of her bath cooling. She stood before him, as he made himself a little too comfortable on her couch.

"Jessica," he started, his eyes sweeping over her. He took in her tall frame, stoic and poised like a Greek statute, and equally as stunning. Jessica Pearson was the epitome of regal and class. She was always so well put together, with her head held high, shoulders back. He used to wonder if she was aware of the air of superiority that seemed to ebb around her. He found himself conflicted with what he wanted to say, so he went for their traditional banter. "Did you kill Mike and not tell me about it?"

She wasn't amused. Not in the slightest. A small part of her wanted to snark back but she was too disappointed in him, in the situation, in the position she found herself in, in herself. She could see the very second when he realized she wouldn't cave with a witty retort about hiding a body or killing him too. His smug expression faded slowly until it disappeared altogether.

"You're still angry," he observed, his eyes never leaving hers. He sat back into the couch and brought his arms up to rest along the back of it.

"Angry?" She hissed through clenched teeth. She took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself, keep herself and her emotions together, before surrendering herself to flopping on the loveseat across from Harvey. "I'm not angry, Harvey. I'm livid."

Harvey canted his head to the side, before leaning forward, elbows on knees as he clasped his hands together. He narrowed his eyes at her briefly, his orbs boring into hers, as he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"You hav…" she gave a forced chuckle. "You seriously have nothing to say? Am I not due at the very least an explanation of sorts?"

Harvey's intense gaze continued to bore into her, and his lack of response only further fueled her on.

"You son of a bitch!" she muttered exasperatedly. "You hired a kid with no credentials to his name, you jeopardized this firm, and you jeopardized me! I let you get away with bending the rules but your total disregard for breaking them is nothing short of despicable!"

"As I recall, you were willing to bend a few rules for me," he replied smoothly, practically daring her to challenge him on the practically unheard of decision she made to pay his way through Harvard.

"I bent the rules, Harvey," she protested. "That was an entirely different scenario and you know it! To have the audacity…the gall to even," she paused, shaking her head incredulously. "I paid for you to get the proper credentials, the proper education. I didn't pluck you out of the mailroom and started assigning you mergers! I was patient enough to implement a reasonable plan and follow through!" She glared at him, hardness in her eyes that made her anger unmistakable. "You lied to me!"

"I never lied to you Jessica, "Harvey responded coolly.

"Right," she said with a short, callous laugh. "You just kept me in the fucking dark! You just made a complete and utter idiot out of me and I let you, because it's you!" she said quietly, doing her best to contain her rage. "God, Harvey…it was so much easier when you feared and respected me! This…" she gestured between them as she tried to rub out an impending migraine by massaging her forehead. "This isn't working at all!"

The silence in the room was practically deafening. Harvey studied her intensely, her clenched jaw, the slight shake of the fists she kept making, and the wetness of her eyes. She was fighting back tears. A realization dawned on him and he voiced it before he had the right mind to keep it to himself. "You're not just angry. You're hurt. I hurt you."

The remark he delivered with such incredulity made her scoff in surprise and discomfort. She wanted to counter him, wanted to dismiss it as fallacy but, the knowingness in his dark orbs and the losing battle she was having with her sense of composure kept her from speaking.

He ducked his head down until she was forced to look him directly in his eyes before he said quietly but firmly, "I'm sorry."

She nearly asphyxiated on the wine she was sipping on. An apology, a sincere apology from Harvey Specter.

"Fear and respect are not mutually exclusive," he said in that confident way of his. "You taught me that." He took a long pull of the wine in his glass, his eyes never leaving hers. "I never feared you Jessica, you never warranted fear. You were the one who taught me that instilling fear is not what makes a person powerful. Instilling respect is. Now respect, I've always respected you, and I always will."

It was her turn to sip at her wine while studying him intensely, gauging his sincerity in his statements. He waited patiently for her, slightly amused at the power game she was playing.

"You sure as hell have a funny way of showing it," she said icily. "If having your respect means you can lie to me, abuse my trust, put me, you, everyone and everything in jeopardy, threaten me-"

"I did not threaten you," he protested smoothly.

"What do you call it?" She shot back fiercely.

"Leverage. Using one of the one hundred ways to prevent you from pulling the trigger. Prodding you to force your hand before I had to force mine…"

"Playing me," she supplied in a clipped tone.

"I didn't see it that way, I merely used tactics you imparted," he said with a smirk.

"So I arm you with an arsenal and you use it against me. To play me," she said quietly as she sipped on her wine again.

"I didn't play you, per se."

"Right and you're not an asshole, per se."

"Ouch, Jess, you wound me," he flashed her, his devilish smirk, pleased that her mood changed incrementally. Just enough for her to toss out a few sarcastic barbs, in that way that implied that they were on the path to being back to normal. His smirk dissipated slowly when he took in her troubled expression.

"I'll do you one better," she said solemnly. "How about, you're not merely an investment per se either?"

Harvey tensed at the words and the coolness by which she delivered them. He clenched his jaw tightly and he swallowed thickly. He was very much aware that she noted each and every flicker of emotion that undoubtedly passed through his face before he was able to hide behind a distant grin and false air of confidence.

"I should leave you to your bath," he said carefully as he rose from the seat.

"Sit," she ordered. "He does listen after all, "she muttered to no one in particular when he obliged to her demand. "That wasn't playing fair, now was it?"

He regarded her with a penetrating gaze and a clenched jaw but refused to say anything further.

"No matter how many times I tell you that you are not merely an investment, that you're a mentee, a protégé, an exemplary employee, a…friend," she hesitated with the last bit before clearing her throat. "There is still a small part of you that doubts all of that. It's a sore spot for you, whether you'll admit it out loud or not. Right?"

When Harvey merely poured himself a refill of the Merlot, she decided to continue on. We've always had an unspoken agreement between us, you and I. I agreed to never acknowledge that I knew about your…insecurity, in regards to how this partnership…this friendship of ours came about, just as you subconsciously agreed to never take advantage of and abuse the fact that I…favor you."

Harvey shifted in his seat before meeting her eyes. She always had a way of making him feel practically juvenile and small. Disappointing her, which is what he had definitely did, was one of the few things that kept him from sleeping at night. Her opinion of him was one of the few that mattered most in this part of his life. He knew she was correct. Correct in her assessment of the situation, correct in the hurt she was feeling that she would never admit to. He did in fact play her, in the worst possible way. He took advantage of the one thing she was most conscientious about at the firm, the high regard she had for him. He knew the moment she threatened to fire him, that she never would be able to, that it would never stick, and the final slap in the face was to actually voice how much she needed him. He didn't play fair. He came out snarling in that way that a feral mother protects her young. In this case he was protecting Mike. He was forced to protect his own…against his own.

He raised a brow at the hint of a smile gracing Jessica's stunning features. "What?"

"You understand," she responded knowingly as if she could read his mind. Although sometimes he truly suspected that she could.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "You know I never like…" he paused and shifted uncomfortably before facing her head on. "…Disappointing you."

"I'm more disappointed in myself," she said quietly as an afterthought. I cannot fully convince myself that I'm okay with where I am now. That I'm okay with trusting me, trusting you."

He jerked his head in response to her errant thoughts, clearly troubled by the sentiment she carelessly shared and the implications behind it.

She waved him off. "Nevertheless, an apology is irrelevant at this point. This is much better."

"What is much better?" he inquired curiously, taking in the slight smirk on her face.

"Michael Ross is a good kid. I wasn't jesting when I concluded that he is in fact the best of us both. Though evidently he did not get the compassion from you." She chuckled briefly before continuing on, "But as disappointed as I am, as angry and hu-"she cleared her throat and composed herself, hiding the stumble of her words. "It's been interesting seeing how willing you are to fight for this kid. He has you wrapped around his finger."

"Does not," Harvey shot back childishly as he finished off the rest of his wine.

"Indeed he does," she quipped back with a spark in her eye. "Congratulations, you've found yourself a Harvey."

It took a moment before the weight of the inference hit him.

"Poetic justice," she said with ease, a hint of amusement coloured her tone along with something else…a resignation, a sullen resignation.

''Nothing I'll dole out to you will come close to that realization right there. The insight that Mike Ross is your Harvey Specter. He has already gotten to you, that much is evident. Stirred up that protective streak that you only had reserved for close ones am I right? He's already yours, and he knows that he's yours. You need him, and he knows that you need him, and in that knowledge that he possesses he holds all the power, power over you that you'll never quite reclaim. A power he can use to manipulate you…betray you. A power he can use to simultaneously make you proud and disappoint you. A power that he could use to destroy you if he ever so chooses to."

She paused long enough to give a half smile in that regal way of hers. "Poetic justice, Harvey. Once you become a mentor, you make yourself vulnerable"

"Well if I'm half as good as my mento-"he started in an attempt to break the haunting revelation.

"Kissing my ass will not get you back into my good graces anytime soon, Harvey," she snapped, the slight smirk taking the heat out of her words.

A slow smile tugged at his lip and a glint of mischief lit up in his eyes before he retorted, "Well it's such a nice as-"

"Don't be cute."

"So you admit that I'm cute?" he said playfully, his head canted to the side, and that impish gleam in his eyes.

She raised her brow before snorting softly, "I admit you're a nuisance and you never seem to take that too seriously so why venture to start now?"

"I-"he started before getting cut off.

"Nevermind," she sighed, rubbing her temple helplessly. "Are you done imposing?" she quirked her brow at him impatiently as her mind wandered to her bath water that had long since gone ice cold.

"What are we going to do about Hardman?" he questioned cautiously, his impish grin was instantly taken over by that intense gaze of his and she wondered just how many years it took for him to master hiding his emotions so effortlessly.

She shivered at the thought of Hardman and the hellfire he could easily bestow upon them all. Her forehead crinkled with the tell tale signs of worry, before she regained control of herself. Much to her embarrassment, Harvey studied her every move closely, his eyes never leaving hers or hiding the fact that he could sense her discomfort, her concern, her fear.

"I don't know," she replied with a suppressed anger fueled by uncertainty and fear of the unknown.

"We'll figure it out, Jess," he said with a quiet conviction that made her want to believe him.

She almost smiled fondly over his shortening her moniker. He only brought it out on the rarest of rare occasions when he was more protective of her than usual, and wanted to cast their trademark sarcastic bantering aside in favor of something more sincere and intimate. His jaw was clenched, with the tension their predicament invoked in them both, and for a split second she caught a glimpse of the reverence he had for her a decade before in his brooding eyes.

He finally broke his gaze away from hers and regarded the empty bottle of wine between them with disgruntlement. He cast a furtive glance at the clock, noting the late hour. That cocky grin of his slowly graced his features as he eyed her with a glint of challenge and amusement in his eyes. "Sleepover?"

She sighed at his usual childishness and fought back a smirk, because regardless of how pissed she was with him, at any given moment he always managed to charm her. She rolled her eyes at his raised brow before turning sharply on her heel, disappearing into her bedroom and returning seconds later with a pillow and blanket in her hand.

"Couch," she said in exasperation before whipping both at him and taking pleasure in watching them both hit him squarely in his too perfect face. God, she hated him sometimes. "Good Night, Harvey," she said with muffled delight as she begin to turn and pad away.

"I never meant to disappoint you Jess," he said softly as he adjusted the pillow on the couch. "But we are in this together. We'll figure something out," he paused as he listened to the steady breathing coming from her retreating form and watching her back stiffen at his words. "I've always had your back Jessica. I always will. We protect our own"

She glided into the bathroom and waited until she heard the soft click of the door closing behind her before she rested her body against the door and sighed. She wondered if he realized that it was the second time that week he echoed those words…her words. She wondered if things between them would ever be the same, but knew it wouldn't matter regardless. No matter how the cards fell, she protected her own, and if she couldn't count on Harvey for anything else, she could count on him to be by her side, when they went to battle.

~o~