Brother from another mother

Trevor [Part-1]

He had known the call was inevitable.

And since he had known this, he had prepared. He had mentally run through the various scenarios over and over again, each time reiterating to himself that this time, he would be firm. "Trevor, no, I can't help you."

Six words. Six simple, simple words.

But when the inevitable call came at 3AM, what he said was, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Only after he had hung up the phone did he drop down on the couch, bury his face in his hands, and say, "Shit."

Mike nervously straightened his tie as he approached Harvey's office. Play it cool, he reminded himself. All he had to do was casually ask Harvey for a few days off to settle a personal matter, and hope and pray that the man wouldn't ask too many questions.

Who was he kidding? Harvey was Harvey. There would be questions.

But what choice did he have?

Determined, he swallowed past the lump in his throat, schooled his features into something approaching neutrality, and strode forward -

- only to be stopped short by Donna's arched eyebrow. "Where do you think you're going, mister?"

"I need to see him. It's urgent."

She gave him an unimpressed expression that plainly read, oh I've heard that one before.

"What have you done?" she said.

"I - I don't know what you mean."

Smooth. Real smooth.

"You look like you're expecting Harvey to kill you. So before I allow a potential murder to occur under my watch, you'd better have a good reason why I should let you in there."

He hesitated a moment, his eyes flying between the silent, imposing figure of Harvey at his desk, and at the stubborn expression of his fiery assistant.

"Donna," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "A friend needs my help."

She regarded him sternly for several seconds more, and then: "Oh you," she sighed, the unrelenting professional facade dropping away, as she nodded her head at the office's glass door. "Go."

"Donna, thanks. Thanks," he said fervently, even as he nervously reached up to tighten his tie.

"Loosen it. Your eyes look like they're about to bulge out of your head."

He smiled sheepishly, straightening his tie, and knocked on Harvey's door.

"Come in."

Show time. Mike took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself.

Harvey sat behind the expanse of the sleek plexiglass desk, looking as unruffled and impeccable as always. He set down a heavy looking case file, and said - with a distinct note of amusement in his tone - "You both went through Donna first and knocked on the door. Could her numerous reminders have finally sunk in?"

Mike managed a wry smile. "Not quite."

"In this, the eidetic memory fails," Harvey said dryly, "Tell me what's wrong."

"I - what? Why would you think something's wrong?"

"You never knock," Harvey said pointedly. "That was a clue."

"Oh right. Sorry. About the knocking thing. The never knocking thing."

He was babbling like an idiot, and Harvey certainly didn't look impressed.