Meghan Ross: Con Artist in Training

Unfinished Business (Part 3)

'I don't care about the case right now, Mozz. If anything case related comes up, just say so. What I want to know is if this guy really cares about Donna and isn't using her,' she returned. Then added, 'He seems like an open book, which means there's something he doesn't want us to know.'

A shadow came across her table in the file room. She looked up to see Donna looking down at her.

"You'd better not be working either Hessington case," Donna said, taking a mental note of the files in front of the teen. "Mike doesn't want you to. Harvey agrees... Why are you researching Stephen?"

"I really don't know, Donna," Meghan replied.

"Did Harvey ask you to do this after I started dating him?"

"No. Harvey did not ask me to look into him. Stephen claimed he was here to help Harvey get Jessica's job via this case, but I've seen him looking at files that have nothing to do with either Hessington case... Besides, this is just something I do when someone new joins my social circle. Can never be too careful when Witness Protection is trying to find you."

Six hours had passed. Meghan yawned as she closed one of the files. She rubbed her eyes to show how tired she was, but no one suggested she go home. Word had spread quickly that she was spending the night in Harvey's guestroom and the man in question had yet to leave the office at twelve thirty in the morning. He hadn't even bothered to offer his couch this time, which made her feel like an inconvenience. And she may as well have been one.

What she didn't know from where she was in the building, was that Harvey was thinking about her question of guardianship, and he needed to be alone for that.

There were so many things to consider when taking on the role of Meghan's guardian. For most children it would be a difficult, but still easier process than what he, or anyone for that matter, was looking at.

A person with an easy to trace medical condition that had a paper-trail, even using their real name, yet somehow still managed not to exist. She was even on the national transplant list. Two things that could easily get them found by the very group of federal employees they were hiding from.

Because Mike didn't go through the legal process of taking custody, and with their parent's and Edith gone, the Marshall's technically had every right to take her away. So how was he, or anyone, going to take on this role the legal way without drawing attention to her or himself?

The only way to keep her where she wanted to stay if things went South, was adoption. Not even foster-care was an option because a social service representative could relocate her regardless of how good her current care was or what was in her best interest.

By the time he checked his watch an hour later, he was getting up from his couch and heading toward his overcoat. It was one thirty in the morning and he had yet to take Meghan to his place for her to get some sleep. He went to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found.

When he did find her, she was curled up and asleep under Mike's desk. There were signs that she had tried to use the hard surface as a pillow; random files and papers stacked together. She had even wrapped it in one of Mike's spare suit jackets. Obviously, the floor was more comfortable.

He tapped her foot with his own, receiving a kick to the shin as the teen came to.

"Oh... fu-!" Harvey muttered as he hopped about on one foot, holding the injured shin like a cartoon character.

"Careful," came a young voice from under a desk. "I may use some words, but Dad doesn't let me say that one."

"How-in the hell... does-Mike... do-this... every-day!" His teeth were clenched so tight that if his inner cheek were caught between them, his mouth would have bled.