Brother from another mother

Driving lessons.

Mike was late. Again.

Harvey's expression darkened as he checked the time for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. This tardiness was getting ridiculous - no, it was far, far past the point of ridiculous, and Harvey simply didn't understand it. He had never had such problems getting into the office back when he had been an associate. Quite the contrary, he had always been at his desk by 6 AM at the latest, no exceptions.

And so he waited at his associate's cube, more than ready to give him a piece of his mind.

And waited.

And waited.

When after twenty minutes there was still no sign of the kid, Harvey irritably rose to his feet. He couldn't afford to sit here all day! Perhaps he'd return to his office, and grab one the case files on the Westridge Pharmaceutical lawsuit...

Just as he was musing, there was a sudden clatter of footsteps in the hallway; Harvey glanced up and saw a whirlwind of papers, the blur of a brown satchel.

"Nice of you to finally make it, Ross," someone jeered.

Finally.

Harvey settled back into his associate's chair, and prepared himself to be intimidating.

"Did you get lost on the way to work, Ross?" another associate laughed.

"Stuff it, Devon, I - " Mike abruptly noticed Harvey's presence, and froze on the spot.

The kid blinked at him guiltily, and Harvey frowned at his appearance. Mike's hair was mussed, his white button-up shirt was far from neatly pressed, his suit jacket looked rumpled and frayed - hell, even his ridiculously skinny tie was crooked.

For goodness sakes, if the kid was going to be late, couldn't he at least have put on an ironed shirt?

Harvey raised an eyebrow at him, and then looked pointedly at his watch.

"Sorry, sorry," Mike said hurriedly, "I was - I had - "

"No excuses. I expect you to be here when you're needed here, and that point in time was well over an hour ago," Harvey said sternly.

Mike looked at him pitifully.

"Unless you were hit by a car, then I don't want to hear it."

He pushed himself up from Mike's desk chair, satisfied that he had suitably chastised the younger man, and made to return to his office. And then he noticed the look on Mike's face.

Harvey Specter prided himself on his ability to read people, and Mike Ross had never exactly learned how to maintain the stoic lawyer face. So he knew that look, that look that read: well, actually, I WAS just hit by a car…

Unexpectedly strong concern, mingled with a fair amount of alarm, rushed through him. "Were you?" he said sharply, trying to disguise the fact that his heart was suddenly pounding thunderously.

"Don't worry."

"I don't. Answer the question."

Mike's cheeks colored, and he looked down. "It was a close call."

It had been a close call…one of many.

Harvey shook his head in disbelief, and made his decision in a second. "Come with me."

Looking very confused and fairly worried, Mike followed Harvey as he led the way back to his office. Harvey suppressed a snort at the apprehension on the kid's face - did Mike really think that he might fire him over this?

Once in his office, he went to his bookshelf and opened a small box, lifting a tiny, shiny object from it. "Catch."

The object bounced off of Mike's chest, and clattered to the floor.