A White Collar/Suits Crossover Blog

"Why do you have to be such a cocky son of a bitch?" Sara asked irritably.

"I’ll have you know that I’m actually a handsome, cocky son of a bitch," Harvey returned with his trademark smirk.

Sara just looked at him in what was a mixture of contempt and amazement, which he clearly picked up on and pointed out to her.  “Oh, yes.  I am amazed," she remarked, her voice saccharinely sweet to the point of unveiled sarcasm.  “I am amazed that your arrogance has by far exceeded my expectations."

The brunette turned on her heel, preparing to walk out of his office when Harvey called after her, “I’ll see you first thing tomorrow." She paused in her footing and turned around sharply to give him a piece of her mind when she took in his confident smirk.  She knew he was trying to rile her up enough for her to give up the case and return to Sterling-Bosch.  She would never give him the satisfaction.

Forcing a tight-lipped smile, the bounty hunter replied, “I’m usually awake before the rest of Manhattan drifts off into their alcoholic induced slumber before dawn.  I’ll have my sources and background checks drawn up and ready before you even think of stumbling out of your overly priced and overly indulgent bed in your what is I’m sure an overly elaborate penthouse for your need to over compensate for-"

"So you have thought about me in bed," Harvey retorted, his smirk becoming more cocky if that was even possible.

Sucking in a breath, Sara’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink, which was certainly out of anger he noted.  She let out a soft huff of indignation before she turned and walked out of his office, muttering about something akin to punching that stupid, fucking smirk off his face.

Reclining back in his desk chair, the lawyer chuckled to himself.  Perhaps this case wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought. 

White Collar/Suits Neal Caffrey/Mike Ross read here or [ @Ao3 ] Well, it’s not like Neal can set up a Craigslist ad for well-meaning guys who once lived on the other side of the legislation but now worked in the fold.

Neal steals art and catches illustrious criminals with the FBI, and Mike works his way through papers and stages no-holds-barred verbal beatdowns. That’s the comprehensive scope of their relationship, except they have dinner and watch movies sometimes, and also occasionally break the law.

Neal sees Mike before the other has a chance to even pick him out from the crowd, and by the time Mike catches the tell-tale Caffrey grin he can still remember from before they both became frauds and men, their shoulders already brushed by, Devore against one of the three $100 suits.

Mike whips around, startled and seemingly crazy in Harvey’s eyes (he can tell by the way he raises a Specter eyebrow) but Neal doesn’t turn around, he never does.

And it is by reflex that Mike pats himself down, relaxing only when he feels his wallet still inside his pocket.

“You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“Uh, sort of did, actually.”

“…you’ve got good looking ghosts then.”

Harvey shrugs and begins to walk away, and it takes another moment before Mike finally snaps out of his Neal-induced trance. Because the last time he’s heard, Neal Caffrey (Danny Brooks back when he first met him in that last year of high school) was still in jail. Mike has to jog to catch up with Harvey.

He only finds the paper crane tucked inside his satchel when he gets back to the office.

-

“You better not have lifted that kid’s wallet back there.” Peter says with a warning when they round the corner.

Neal grins and puts his hands up in defeat, symbolic in its irony because Neal doesn’t lose. (He wins by default and it is skills as much as it is his lucky stars in perfect alignment in the sky.) “Still the best, Peter.”

AU meme: Harvey and Sara.

Harvey Specter: So you’re basically a high class repo man.

Maybe it was that they did it for him, maybe it was that they looked just like they did sprawled across his bed - maybe it was that they’d made sure they’d found what they were looking for before giving in to drooping eyes and evapourating concentration. 

They didn’t always end up together, the three of them, but more often than not Harvey woke up in the morning tangled in both of them. He lived with Mike, had been for a year now, but Neal just fit when he was there. It had been a few days, the case taking over almost completely, but they seemed to have cracked it.

He crouched down between them and pulled the file free of Mike’s loose grip. He pressed a hand to Mike’s chest, rubbing gently until he began to stir.

“Easy,” he murmured, making sure Mike didn’t sit up and knock himself out on the table - he knew from experience that it was a very real possibility. Mike blinked up at him blearily and smiled when his eyes came into focus. He maneuvered himself upright and rolled his shoulders. “Good work.”

“Thanks.” Mike smiled again and rubbed at his eyes. He looked so young in those moments after waking and Harvey had long since realised that it was then that his protective streak was at it’s worst. 

He leant forwards and kissed him gently, Mike returning it sleepily before pulling away and getting to his feet. He strateched out further and Harvey turned to Neal - he was still out cold. Harvey ran a hand through his hair, brushing the bangs from his forehead gently and waiting for him to respond. Neal slept alot deeper than Mike, often the last of the three to get out of bed in the morning. 

It didn’t take long this time and Neal rolled over with a groan, curling in on himself.

“You’re the devil. The devil incarnate.” His voice was slurred with annoyed weariness and Harvey smiled and laughed gently. He made another annoyed sound and rolled over again, this time towards Harvey, his head landing on his leg. “Sleep here?”

“No chance.” He replied. He cupped a hand around Neal’s chin and tilted it to one side, earning himself a rather fine glare. 

“Wow.” Mike crouched behind Harvey, arms coming around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder. “That’s some bad hat, Harry.”

Harvey shot his a withering look over his shoulder, but Mike grinned lazily as Neal raised his head up, a look of distinct confusion on his face. The changed in angle cleared showed the side of his face that had been pressed to the floor as he slept - now a perfect relief of the carpet weave. 

“That’d be me,” Neal said, slipping a finger behind the knot of Harvey’s tie and easing it loose.  

Harvey’s head tilted slightly and an “are you serious?” look spread across his features; he unbuttoned Neal’s waistcoat.  He shook his head, saying, “I think you should prove it.”

Neal licked his lips and smiled broadly, “You’re not taking me at my word?”  He slid Harvey’s shirt off and tossed it over the back of the chair.  “Ok.  If I must.”

Hi, my name’s Michael Ross, but you can call me Mike. This is my life. It’s filled with spies, computer-stealing ninjas and me saving the day.

Oh, wait, wait, I need to go back.

I work at Pearson Hardman. It used to be pretty boring. See, everything changed when I got an e-mail from my old college buddy Bryce Larkin. You see, Bryce had been working for the CIA when he sent me a whole bunch of government secrets — big important secrets, really scary, nasty, get-killed-for-having-them secrets. Next thing I know, these secrets are downloaded into my brain, which means every moment lf my life is in danger.

The NSA sent their top agent to protect me. That’s Harvey. He’s pretty scary. The CIA sent their top agent, too: Rachel. (Oh, yeah, trust me; I know.) But just like any woman, she’s got a past.

So now I must defend the country from assassins, terrorists… and lawyers.