Brother from another mother

Post-its. [Part-5]

Mike was woken up to a heavy banging on his door. He checked the time and winced. It was now quarter to 7. Because of his lack of a bike he would need to set off really soon. Cursing his bad luck and broken alarm clock, he stumbled to the door and opened it, hoping he looked less sleep deprived than he felt.

"Michael Ross?" The man in front of him asked, a small smirk on his face.

"Yeah..." he replied warily.

"I got a delivery for you," he said, holding out a clipboard to be signed. "And a note was attatched - I can't tell if this guy hates you or not."

"What are you talking about?" Mike was extremely confused, and was even more so when the man pushed a large box from behind him and shoved it at Mike.

"There ya go - note's stuck on the top. See ya," he left, leaving Mike to pull the box in on his own. He finally left it in his living room/bedroom/kitchen and quickly went to have a shower, before coming back to open it. The note fell off the top, causing Mike to stoop down and pick it back up, rolling his eyes at the familiar writing.

Kid, when I told you to get yourself a new mode of transportation I meant it. It's annoying watching you walk in every day. It was more fun when I got to watch you skid around a corner when you passed a pretty girl and your head got turned. I need entertainment on mornings; especially when Donna's too busy to banter. Okay, so you're not exactly the best partner I could ask for but the moral of the story is - GET YOUR ASS TO WORK ON TIME FOR ONCE.

Mike smirked but looked at the box in trepidation. He was fairly sure Harvey had bought him a new bike; a thought which both touched him but made him swallow at the same time. He couldn't afford to pay Harvey back, and he also didn't want to have to resort to telling him to take it out of his wages because god knows he needs that money.

He decided just to open it, and as expected it was a new bike. It was also much flashier than his old one so he was now afraid that a) it would be stolen once more and b) he would be paying Harvey back a lot. It didn't even need constructing, and he only needed to fish his lock out from his bag before he was ready to go. He had kept the lock more for sentimental reasons rather than hopes of buying a new bike - which he couldn't afford.

"Damn it, Harvey," he breathed, gazing at his bike. It was like a work of art, and he almost didn't want to ride it in case he got it scuffed - what if he was hit by a car again? After quickly petting it and promising he'd be extra careful, he quickly got dressed and pulled his helmet on. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he was ready to go.

Racing smoothly through the streets, Mike felt elated. He remembered why he loved biking so much, and this new one was too awesome for words. He found himself trying to get a glimpse of him on it in shop or car windows, and even felt like this bike should merit a few childish cards in the spokes. Flying through the park he realised he was getting attached to it. If Harvey wanted him to give it back at some point, he would need to drag him off it, kicking and screaming.

Coming to a firm halt at the bike stand, he locked it and checked the lock at least twice before deciding that it was safe to leave. He gave it one last, affectionate stroke before heading inside, already running through names in his head. It had to have a name, he couldn't just leave as 'a bike'. It was sturdy, reliable, quick, powerful and he imagined if it was a person it would be smart. For one horrible second the name 'Harvey' came to mind, before he quickly settled on Dexter. He'd always wanted to call something Dexter, and he never had time for a pet.

Throughout his walk back to the office, he threw wistful glances back outside, hoping he could still see Dex from where he was (Oh dear god he'd already not only named it but given it a nickname too) and realising he would have to give it back. He couldn't pay Harvey back and it wasn't right to accept it as a present.