And here is the second part. Enjoy!

Part II

Louis frowned as his heart skipped a beat, thudding against his ribcage unevenly. He ducked around the corner before he could be spotted lurking. Well, not lurking. Spying, perhaps? Scoping out the situation? Either way, he didn't want to be caught, so he swiftly went around the corner and cut through the bullpen. Today was not a good day for his anxiety. Not that the last month had been a day in the park for his nerves, anyway, but today was bad. All he wanted to do was retreat to his office and stay there.

He breezed by the cubicles and slowed. His stubborn nature urged him to keep moving, but every fiber in his being as head of the associates resisted and made him backpedal a couple of steps.

"And what, pray tell, are you doing looking at tattoos rather than going over the Trapp briefs?" he questioned as he hovered over Harold's desk.

"Louis! I – uh, well – there was this – I'm – the briefs – I'll get right on them," Harold stammered out, the color draining from his already pale face.

"If you think you're going to get off the hook that–" Louis broke off midsentence as he caught a certain scrawny associate walk into the bullpen via his peripheral vision.

Said associate paused and took a step toward him. "Hey, Louis–"

He fled the bullpen, leaving a baffled Harold in his wake, and giving no indication of having heard Mike. Once out of the bullpen, he navigated by the breakroom to grab something, anything to help take his mind off this situation. An ice cold prunie, a bran bar, he'd even accept the dregs of the coffee pot, but the flicker of red hair through the glass door sent him speed walking back to his office as quickly as a human could without running. He definitely couldn't interact with Donna today, forget Mike.

A feeling of security and safety swept him up as he made it and shut the door behind him, sagging against it slightly before straightening in case someone saw him. He was beginning to question the practical use of so much glass in their firm. Sure, it was sleek and modern, but he could use some solid oak boards to hide behind right now.

His breath caught as he looked at his desk. "What?"

Glancing around for a hidden camera, because people weren't this nice to him, he slowly approached the vase. At first, he could feel the tingle of pollen in his nose before he got close enough to smell it, and then realized he didn't actually have any pollen in his nose and it was more of a Pavlov's dog type of thing. The neatly arrayed flowers weren't real, but rather were delicately folded pieces of paper in some of the finest origami he had ever seen.

He gave a soft laugh and lightly touched a lavender petal.

"I'll never understand your obsession with folded paper."

Louis spun around and felt his heart give a kick again, except this time the ghost he had seen wandering around the office this morning had him cornered. At least, to him it felt like seeing a ghost.

It was Harvey's first day back after a month of being in the hospital for a week and three weeks under, as he had heard Mike say, house arrest. Jessica had forced him to stay at home after he was released in order for him to rest up. Supposedly. Louis happened to have his finger on Pearson Darby's pulse and knew for a fact that Harvey had still been working on cases at his condo. That was supported by the fact that Mike had managed to convince Jessica to let him work from Harvey's home two days a week. If Harvey had simply been resting, he wouldn't have needed Mike around. Nor would Donna have mysteriously been gone as well.

"What? You actually have nothing to say?" Harvey asked and quirked a smirk at him.

He was paler than usual, thinner than usual, looked absolutely tired. Perhaps he wasn't a ghost, maybe he was a zombie. Louis fidgeted and cast his eyes around his office. "You look like crap."

"And yet, I still look better than you."

There it was. The quipping, the mocking, the bantering. Louis had been sure, he had been positive he was never going to hear Harvey say anything about his imaginary wife or his suits or his love of ballet ever again. Him standing here in his office smirking at him was almost too good to be true. When he had seen him here this morning, he had honestly feared it was a ghost. Feared the doctor's words that night that he was going to make it had been concocted by his desperate imagination. That the cops catching the man responsible, the janitor that had nearly ran him over that night, had been make believe. That Harvey was dead. And this was his ghost. Or maybe this was his specter would've been more fitting.

"Louis?"

His feet carried him across the floor of their own accord until he was face-to-face with Harvey. He wrapped his arms around him gently, keeping in mind this may indeed be a real person and not a ghost, and he didn't want to jostle any bandages hidden under the classy navy blue suit.

The startled exhale seemed real enough, as did the arms that hesitantly returned the hug. Louis blinked rapidly and swallowed. A ball of tension that had been in his stomach for the last month started to unwind. Harvey was alive.

"Okay, getting a little awkward."

He hastily removed himself and took a deep composing breath. "Well, now that you're back from your little vacation, you can handle your fair share of cases."

"Aw, did you pick up the slack for me?" Harvey grinned condescendingly at him.

Louis waved a hand in the general direction of the bullpen. "That's what I have an army of associates for. And, since you're back, that means Mike Ross won't be distracted with his bleeding heart, and can get back to helping with the Trapp briefs."

"I'll admit, the kid's a regular mother hen. But just because I'm back and he's back doesn't mean you get him back. He's still my associate," Harvey said. "Also, Jessica told me you've been handling my clients. Don't think you'll be keeping any of those for yourself."

As Harvey turned to walk out, he couldn't help himself. Maybe it was the idea that he never knew what could be his last words to his frenemy, maybe it was because a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he felt a genuine pip of joy, but he said it.

"Eventually, I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!"

Harvey directed an impassive face at him, but he could see the underlying amusement before it was displayed on his face in a cocky grin. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Get out of here. I don't like the definition of death warmed over standing in my office," Louis made a shooing motion.

Harvey's face remained impassive, but he could see the underlying amusement fade to a more somber emotion before he walked away. He let out a breath and turned back to his desk to examine the origami flowers. His brow furrowed at the small white card tucked amidst the purple, red, orange, and green papers. Moving around to sit in his chair, he flipped the card open and paled.

Thanks for saving my life, Louis. Don't tell anyone I said that. I will deny it.

He'd just received a thank you from Harvey Specter? And that meant the origami bouquet had to be from him. A smile broke out across his face as he sat down–

–and promptly bolted upright at the sound of an airhorn. He glanced under his chair to see one taped to it and stood up angrily, until he heard the chuckle from just outside his door and saw a navy blue shoulder disappear from view.

Once his heart settled to a normal rhythm, he let the smile return. Things were going to be okay.

-Fin-

I just wanted to do something different with Louis. I have a soft spot for the guy, though I'm not sure why. Hope you enjoyed, and maybe I'll write more for this fandom someday!

Thanks for reading!