14 Reasons (Why Harvey Specter is an Asshole)

Title and concept were inspired by 2x13 'Zane vs. Zane'. Warning that this fic does contain small spoilers for 2x12 and 2x13 (albeit references that might not be caught unless you've seen the episodes.)

This first chapter could be considered a follow-up to my previous fic, Ten and Two, wherein Harvey attempts to teaches Mike to drive.

1- He has no patience for student drivers (or the one where Harvey attempts to teach Louis how to drive, Mike is affronted, and Donna is Donna)

On the day that Harvey taught Mike how to drive, he wasted absolutely no time in calling Donna to bemoan his fate. "The next time I agree to do a Good Thing...set up an urgent appointment with a client, any client, and get me out of it. Invent a client if you have to, I don't care. Make it an impressive sounding name though, something with 'The Third' in it."

"Duly noted," she assured him, "What's the puppy done now?"

"I've just spent the last eternity circling a school parking lot. In a Tesla. In a Tesla going two miles per hour."

She clucked her tongue sympathetically. "By two, do you mean twenty?"

"Two," Harvey sounded aggrieved.

"His driving can't be that bad."

"Donna, it's worse than the time Kirk tried driving the Cadillac."

"Hey," Mike sounded affronted, "I'm still right here!"

She could almost hear him roll his eyes. "Oh yes, there you are," Harvey said with flat enthusiasm, "While we're on the subject: why are you still here?"

There was a brief pause as Mike seemed to seriously consider the question.

"I'll see you Monday," he said.

:::

And then there was the time Jessica forced him to teach Louis how to drive. She strode into his office, and without preamble, announced, "Whatever you're doing this weekend, cancel it."

"Done," Donna said, over the intercom.

Harvey set down his pen and leaned back in his chair, a cocky smile on his lips. "We have plans?"

"You have plans."

With the skill of a man damned good at reading people for a living, he took in her expression and her posture, and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Harvey," she graced him with a deceptively pleasant smile, a smile he'd long come to recognize as Jessica at her most dangerous. "Don't think I've forgotten that you single-handedly strove to deliver the firm's financial expert into the hands of the enemy at the time when we could least afford it."

He winced. "Expert, really?"

"Missing the point," she reproved sternly.

"Not this again."

"Yes, this again, because I don't seem to recall finishing our first conversation thanks to a certain associate of yours."

He decided it was in his best interests to concede, if only to divert the attention from said associate before Jessica's lips compressed any thinner. "Okay, I may have given Louis some encouragement to leave, but I also welcomed him back."

She crossed her arms and dared him to continue. "And how exactly did you accomplish this?"

With the look of a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar, he said, "I redecorated his office?"

"How?" her voice took on a frankly dangerous tone.

"With mugshots?"

Both of Jessica's eyebrows shot skyward, and she placed her hands on her hips: the imminent danger level notched up several levels.

"You know how he loves to look at pictures of himself. I helped."

Predictably the excuse didn't fool her for a second. "And now, you'll help in a different, actual, way. You owe it to him, but more importantly, you owe it to me," Jessica said, with finality as she delivered her sentence.

Harvey groaned aloud. "Does no one in this office know how to goddamn drive?"

"I do," Donna volunteered cheerfully, "But I know everything, so you shouldn't hold others to my standard of superior excellence. It's why the hashtag is #WWHD, and not #WWDD."

"Are you done?" Harvey said.

:::

It took less than fifteen minutes for Harvey's jaw to clench in such a way that he was positive it would never unclench again. Because while Mike had been an exasperating student in that his foot never left the brake, Louis was an exasperating student in that he was the world's best backseat driver.

'Best' being a relative term, at least.

Harvey was at the wheel, once again taking the Porsche to the same school parking lot where he had taught Mike. Louis kept a death grip on the door handle, and kept up a litany of commentary and head twitches: "I think you're two miles above the speed limit, you should really slow down, Harvey" - "Yellow light, don't forget to slow down, Harvey, that was a yellow light, why did you run it?" - "Whoa! Brake!" - "I don't think you're driving under a safe speed - did we just run another yellow light? Did you even see the light back there because I distinctly remember seeing a light back there."

Not to mention, the second he had entered the car (after Harvey had patted the Porsche's dashboard and apologized to her), he had proceeded to adjust all the mirrors to a more ergonomically compliant position and changed the radio station to some headache inducing opera.

"Don't touch anything," Harvey snapped, before changing it all back.

The only saving grace was that Louis had brought his own ergonomic seat cushion (Harvey had been wondering how best to fumigate his leather seats of Louis Litt's ass prints - now there was a thought best left unthought of.)

Louis looked scandalized. "How can you live in the 21st century and not have a 9-point seatbelt in your vehicle?"

"You'll live," Harvey gritted his teeth, "I think."

Good thing he'd made no promises to bring Louis back in one piece.

:::

Louis was actually a surprisingly good student. Harvey chalked it up to the fact that Louis, unlike Mike, listened intently to every word, and followed orders with an almost disturbing enthusiasm.

Of course, that didn't mean that he didn't suck. Louis kept one eye glued to the speedometer, while the other swiveled wildly trying to simultaneously take in the front view, the rearview mirror, and the side view mirrors. His forehead was permanently scrunched up as he processed all the information like he was performing multivariable calculus.

And he kept muttering directions to himself. "Slow it down, okay, tap the brake, bring it up two miles per hour, left turn, 30 degree turn planned, turning with heading at 15, 16, 17, 18 - "

"Louis, shut up," Harvey groaned, massaging his temples.

"This requires careful, detailed thinking and processing," Louis said, "No wait, I get it, those are concepts you may not be even remotely familiar with."

"Nine year olds can drive a car."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying 'shut up', before I toss you out."

"You can't do that, I'm the one driving. That means I currently have control."

Harvey glared at him.

"I know you're glaring at me, but I currently can't spare the time or the eye resources to meet your stare down," Louis said, as he made another turn, and then capitulated, "but I can feel the intensity of it. It won't work, Harvey."

A beat.

"Okay, maybe it will work a bit."

"Louis," Harvey growled.

"Driving, driving!"

With effort, Harvey settled back in his seat. "Switch to a passing gear."

"What?"

"Passing gear, Louis, how hard is that?"

Louis spared the gear shift a millisecond glance, and then shifted to 'P.'

The Porsche's - the $100,000 Porsche's - engine screeched angrily in protest, and Louis panicked and slammed on the brake - which, thankfully, was the correct action.

Feeling the car's pain in his heart, Harvey screwed his eyes tightly and counted ten, and then twenty, and then considered going all the way to ten thousand. "I meant," he said, his tone frighteningly calm, "to downshift to a lower gear, not to switch to parking gear."

"You should have just said that! What's with this 'passing gear' bullshit?"

Harvey took in some deep breaths and tried to remind himself that murder was a capital offense, and that even if he could convince a grand jury to acquit him, Jessica likely wouldn't.

:::

"How did the driving lesson go?" Jessica said.

"Fantastic," Harvey said sourly.

She perched on the edge of his desk. "Louis had some choice words to say about your teaching methods."

"Yes, yes, 'Harvey's an asshole,'" he waved a hand dismissively, "That doesn't excuse the fact that he owes me a new car."

"You tricked him deliberately."

"You weren't even there. Jessica, I am both offended and indignant at the implication - and did I mention wounded?"

"I might not have been there, but I know you."

"Then you should know that I would never do that to one of my cars..."

She gave him The Look.

"...without good reason," Harvey finished sheepishly.

"Good," she nodded, satisfied. "But I do agree that you should receive some reparation for the damages inflicted to your car's engine - "

"Don't forget the need to re-upholster everything."

"And so," she spoke over him, "He's agreed to buy you a new car."

Harvey looked at her suspiciously. "Somehow I always wait for the other shoe to drop with you."

She smiled. "How does the 2013 Kia Rio sound?"

"Heavenly," he said, and sighed.

...to be continued (should I?)