Chapter Text
The list of things Harvey Specter valued was short. Things he knew he would be ready to die for. He enjoyed wearing expensive suits but he wouldn’t give his life for it for example. There was also his beautiful corner office. He loved his office yes, had enjoyed furnishing it but he knew that if the need came, if he was backed against a wall like it had never been before, he would be able to give it up without regret – well without showing regret –. But seeing joy in his daughter’s eyes, that was something he was ready to die for, something he truly valued and would die for.
What many people didn’t know was that Harvey Specter, lawyer extraordinaire and the best closer New York City had ever seen, had one weakness hidden from almost everyone apart the select few who knew the privilege they had to be aware of it. That weakness took the form of a 11 years old pre-teen named Elisabeth Regina Scott-Specter – or Lizzie as she was called by her Aunt Donna –. As for the last name, Scottie had insisted on hers going first, and after seeing her going through the whole ordeal of labor to give birth to their child, he had gained another level of respect for women and even more so for Scottie who had allowed him to see her in that moment of vulnerability.
To Harvey, Elisabeth looked a lot like her mother and had even inherited her fiery personality. But according to Jessica Pearson herself – and Harvey was not stupid enough to contradict her – Elisabeth was a true Specter in and out. Jessica had even laughed when Harvey had tried – once – to argue otherwise – “just look at her eyes Harvey” –. At 11, Elisabeth was capable of making her father’s life a living hell if she wanted to. But if Harvey and Scottie had many disagreements, they had none on the way to raise their daughter, even between two households. So each time she tried to pull one of her ‘Specter trick’ on Harvey or Scottie, they knew how to react and couldn’t be played one against the other.
For the both Harvey and Scottie, Elisabeth was a priority but that didn’t mean that they pushed aside their careers. The both of them were named partners at their respective law firms, positions that gave them a lot of responsibilities but made also easier to have a more flexible schedule when the need came. Some milestones, like their daughter’s birthday, the first day of school or parent-teacher conferences, were on both their calendars and the both of them were present more often than not. They rarely missed one of those events, only if an emergency came at the last minute, something they tried to avoid. But sometimes clients were pains in the arse and shit happened.
This day, the first day of junior high, both he and Scottie were there to accompany their daughter for her first day. Parents were invited to stay for the first hour during which the teachers for the various subjects would be introduced to the children and to them. It was the bare minimum knowing how much they were spending on this very exclusive Upper East Side Private School. Teachers were lined up behind the principal, a very strict woman with her blond her pulled into a bun, that was explaining what this elite and very expensive school was expecting of them in a theatrical manner. She reminded Harvey of Louis and the speeches he gave to the associates every now or then, saying they were in the trenches together, thinking he was probably the coach in every sport movie ever made, giving the speech before the final game. One of the teachers, a male one, on the younger side, attracted immediately Harvey’s attention with his attitude. He seemed young, barely old enough to be out of college and had light brown hair with blue eyes. He had a cocky smirk and seemed to find the principal’s speech as theatrical as Harvey. He was wearing a white shirt and a tie too skinny for Harvey’s liking but that seemed to suit him – not that Harvey would ever say that out loud –.
When the principal introduced the teachers, Harvey finally put a name to that rather charming teacher: Mr Michael Ross. He was a new hire and would be the music teacher. He also would be leading the school’s music club. Harvey didn’t pay attention to the rest of the teachers, too focused on Mr Ross and his pretty blue eyes. Of course, he did his best not to look too obvious, trying to pull his best poker face but apparently, he failed, because Scottie called him out on it as they were walking out of the school to go to their respective offices. She always had the ability to see through his bullshit.
“This is just like you! On our daughter’s first day of junior high and you really can’t keep it in your pants?”
“What is just like me?” he asked innocently, knowing damn well what she meant.
“You were ogling the music teacher.”
“I was not…”
“Please. I have known you since law school. He is just your type.”
“I will not dignify that with an answer.”
“Yes, because you know you could only embarrass yourself further.”
Scottie’s remark should have put him in a bad mood, like each time she managed to read him like an open book and to press the right buttons to play him, something he had enjoyed at first before finding it more and more annoying before being one of the many causes of the end of their relationship. They had managed to stay cordial to each other and to keep appearances of good co-parents for Elisabeth’s sake, but each time he saw Scottie, she managed somehow to remind him why he wasn’t in a relationship with her anymore. And that despite the quite spectacular sex.
Just before 10am, he stepped out of the elevator at the 50th floor, at the main lobby of the Pearson Specter Litt law firm. Each time he passed the sign with his name on, he felt a hit of pride. After Elisabeth, his career was what mattered the most. He had worked long and hard to get there while hiding his fatherhood to the world, and it had paid. Donna was waiting for him near the reception desk and when she saw his face, smiled and asked:
“How’s the wicked witch of the West?”
“If you are talking about the mother of my child…”
“Of course I am. Did she manage to put you under one of her spells?”
“She was alright.”
Donna stopped and held him by the arm, forcing Harvey to turn to face her. She had her serious face on, any trace of banter being gone.
“You met someone. Someone you like.”
The way Donna had said the word ‘like’ showed what she really meant without leaving the possibility for him to wiggle out of it. So sarcasm was the only way to go.
“Yes I did. Of course. Because a junior high school is where I pick my dates.”
“Some of your dates probably didn’t even reach junior high. No. Not probably. They didn’t reach junior high.”
Harvey wanted to say something, but he knew better. Because then Donna would throw the Sophie-situation to his face. Sophie was a model for Victoria Secret he had brought to the PSL Christmas Party the previous year as his plus one. Gorgeous really, with a pair of legs to die for that had spread for him a week earlier and helped into transforming a good evening into a pleasant night. Everybody had envied him at first when the both of them had entered the room. That was until she opened her mouth and started to speak to some of his colleagues. She had actually asked Louis why couldn’t she print money at home, on her printer. Louis sometimes referred to it to this day.
Donna cocked her head and smiled before asking:
“Was it a fellow parent?... No. It wasn’t, not your style… Oh! It’s a teacher. You are hot for the teacher, that’s cute.”
“Donna… It’s already 10 am, I would like to start my business day please.”
He passed her and started to walk toward his office. The redhaired shouted after him:
“Don’t think I am done with you. I will find that teacher’s name.”
Mike jumped up from his bed as soon as he heard the alarm he had put on his phone ring loudly, waking him with probably the rest of the building. It was his first day at work at a prestigious Manhattan private school. He was supposed to teach rich people’s kid and smile when their parents would state to him that their child was the new Prince or Mozart. But the salary he had been offered was generous, very generous for someone who hadn’t been able to finish his college degree in musicology at Columbia because of their shitty best friend – well former best friend now –. But he had some good references as a private tutor so he had been able to secure the job quite easily.
After changing three times, hesitating on what outfit to wear to try to look professional but also quite chill – he was a music teacher he was supposed to be chill –, Mike biked the distance between his Brooklyn flat to the fancy Upper East Side school. He had a short meeting with all the teaching staff and the principal before they would welcome the students that were starting Junior High and their parents.
As he was locking his bike, he noticed a dark town car stop in front of the school and the driver get out to open the back door. Mike wasn’t really surprised by this scene, he had looked up the school and knew pupils were kids of the Manhattan elites, he was just not used to the sight of private chauffeurs and luxury town cars dropping off or picking up kids from a school. What surprised him was the man that stepped out of the car, nodding to the driver. He could be described by only one word: gorgeous. He was wearing a suit that was costing probably 3 or 4 months of Mike’s salary that fitted him like a glove and a haircut that said ‘corporate douchebag’. Still, a very good-looking corporate douchebag. Following him out of the car was a girl, pre-teen, around 12 probably. She looked really like the man, seemed to have the same attitude, so probably his daughter. Great, that was a parent. Good for you Ross, ogling one of the parents on your first day, gold star for the new teacher.
He saw the corporate douchebag a bit later, when the principal went to speak to the parents whose children were starting junior high. He was standing in the back of the room with a woman in a skirt-suit with dark brown hair. He felt corporate douchebag – God he really should find another nickname for the man – watching him, a bit too much for it to be normal. If he wasn’t mistaken, corporate douchebag was ogling him. So he had a wife but wasn’t so straight after all. Not that it meant that Mike would go after the man: married and student’s parent was a bad combo. When the principal introduced him, he waved his hand and smiled politely to everyone, trying to look as friendly as possible.
Finally, the parents left the classroom to go back to their rich people’s lives and their rich corporate offices for some, or their very expensive homes for others. He couldn’t help himself to watch the man in the suit and the woman he was with – probably his wife or girlfriend, but certainly the girl’s mother – walk away. The woman seemed to talk quite energetically to the man.
He found out the name of the pre-teen in the afternoon – Elisabeth Scott-Specter – and so he went to look at her student file. He asked Jenny, the nice girl working at the admin’s office to pull out the student files of the whole classroom not to raise suspicions. So Elisabeth Regina Scott-Specter, 11, daughter of Harvey Reginald Specter and Dana Julia Scott. At least he could put a name to the face. But as soon he had done that, he felt bad for doing it, going to look in the student files because of a crush. He felt like an idiot. So he tried to push aside any and all thought about Harvey. He was a parent after all. It would be seen quite badly if he started to hit on parents. And Harvey was probably not even attracted to men and could even be in a relationship. Put this thing aside Ross, you need to focus on doing your job well.
Mike tried to ignore Jenny’s smile when he gave her back the files. He tried to erase of his memory, he face of Harvey Specter, knowing that with his photographic memory it would be impossible and that that face and – God damn him – that body in that expensive suit would be stuck with him for at least the next few days.