The Portrait of Gamophobia (2) Harvey Spector

Regret

The Previous Night

He knew that Mike didn't have such a great arm, but he thought that his associate would be able to have some sort of hand-eye coordination. He also didn't believe he let his associate use one of his most prized balls, an autographed baseball from a certain New York Yankee infielder, be used as a ball in the game 21. Mike comforted him by constructing a cushioned basket to catch the ball, regardless if the ball went in or not. However, when Mike took a shot, he ended up missing the improvised net completely.

Harvey, who was annoyed, picked his baseball off of the floor.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was shooting," an apologetic Mike said as he scampered off towards Harvey, snatching the ball from him as he walked back to their makeshift free throw line, turning towards the bootleg, yet very well structured, basketball hoop, where underneath the net was the cushioned basket. The two men were in the middle of one of the largest cases they had come across, and as the boys struggled to concoct ideas for the case, which was due in court the next morning.

"How the hell did you convince me to use one of my balls to play?" Harvey asked skeptically as he watched Mike helplessly throw the ball.

"The baseball has the perfect weight to shoot without over-shooting."

"That's bullshit."

Mike smirked, "Yeah, it is. I just like holding your balls."

They both looked at each other in that moment.

"That didn't come out right."

"You said it," Harvey said, his own smirk growing on his face.

Mike cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks growing.

"As much as your immature ass is amusing, it's not helping the case."

Harvey sighed, "You're right, and as much as I enjoy watching you miserably shoot, we barely have anything for court."

Mike shrugged, "You could use the civil case against him."

"Strong-arm him?"

"W-W-H-D."

The powerful lawyer looked towards his associate.

"Set it up, have it ready in the morning."

Mike almost rolled his eyes, "You really expect me to get it done tonight?"

Harvey did roll his eyes, "No, I expect you to have it done already, since it is your idea."

The blond lawyer hadn't blushed, rather he stood straighter, aware that Harvey knew him so well. He had known Harvey for only several years, yet he knew him so well. Mike thought that it was just Harvey's ability to read people; interpret their actions, depict their personality. But as Mike thought about it, the more he realized that Harvey just knew him. He constantly forgot the powerful lawyer was his boss. He saw him as a friend; a confidant from the beginning. After all the loyalty, he saw him as a person he could trust, no matter what he did.

"On your desk in the morning," Mike promised.

"Good," Harvey said, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, "I wouldn't want to ruin any of your plans for tonight."

Mike's eyeballs almost popped out of his head.

"Oh shit," he whispered with panic.

Harvey's eyebrows furrowed.

"What did you do?"

"Your wife is going to kill me."

"Not my wife yet smartass, what did you do?" Harvey, who was now very interested in what Mike was about to say, stepped closer to his associate.