Written for a prompt on the Suits meme by actually_tragic: "So let's just say Mike and Harvey go to meet their new client, some kind of mad scientist. Mike is tricked into/accidentally drinks a Truth serum that makes him pretty much incapable of filtering his thoughts. He literally cannot stop from blurting out every thought he has. Harvey has to stop him from revealing his secret to the PH crew. Hilarity ensues."
Contrary to popular opinion, there were not that many mad scientists living in New York City.
Oh, the comic books would have you believe otherwise, but the truth is that mad scientists—wherever they crop up—are far from reclusive, and what time they have that isn't spent coming up with insane inventions is spent trying to secure the patents to them. And mad science is expensive; if you're to have any hope of making progress at it, you've got to be well funded. Consequently, mad scientists tend to gather where there's grant money—government research labs if you don't mind working under even madder bureaucrats, or universities, where money is plentiful and the test subjects are willing to do anything for a better grade.
So the only mad scientists who make a habit of living in a place like New York City are the ones who are already rich enough to build their own elaborate underground base there and use it to battle superheroes. And rich mad scientists, just like all ordinary rich men, need lawyers.
This is where Harvey Specter comes in.
"Who exactly is this guy?" Mike asked, staring in awe at the table full of test tubes and beakers filled with brightly colored liquids that lined the wall behind the couch.
"Come on, you read the file," Harvey said.
"The one that said, 'Do Not Read Under Penalty of Death'?"
"That's the one."
"No, I did not read the file."
Harvey smirked. "For the record, you should know that Louis wrote that, not Donna."
"Well, I may have glanced at it…" Mike allowed himself a small grin. "Judging by everything in this room, I think it's safe to say that Werner von Lingenmacht might be a mad scientist."
"He's an orthodontist."
"They're always doctors, you know." Mike laughed nervously. "He is a mad scientist, isn't he?"
"He's not," said a female voice. "And I prefer the term sanity-challenged." A stunningly beautiful woman in a lab coat entered the room.
"Adrian," Harvey said with a polite smile. "Nice to see you above ground for once." He gestured to the floor-length windows behind them.
"Hello, Harvey," Adrian said cheerily. "Daddy will be down in a few minutes. But while I've got you here—"
"No," Harvey said firmly.
"But I just wanted to ask—"
"I work for your father, Adrian, not you. And he doesn't exactly approve of your little projects, so I'd rather not jeopardize our working relationship by sounding like I care."
Adrian bit her lip. "I just need to know how to file a patent," she said, pouting.
"Oh, I hate those," Mike said. From the way Harvey glared at him, he knew speaking had been a bad idea.
Adrian's head swiveled and her gaze latched onto Mike. "Really?" she asked eagerly. "Who are you?"
"My associate, Mike Ross," Harvey said, stepping between them. "He's not allowed to talk to strangers."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Ross! I'm Adrian," she said, brushing past Harvey and seizing Mike's hand. "I'm twenty-three years, five days, and forty-seven minutes old, I have blood type O Negative, and I'm heterozygous for brown eyes so our children would have a fifty percent chance of having blue eyes! What blood type are you?"
"Uh… A?" Mike said, taken aback.
"A what?" she pressed.
"A… Positive?" he guessed.
"I don't have any A Positive!" she shrieked. "Would you be willing to donate some blood? It's for a good cause! And I have cookies, so no one will faint this time!"
"He's also not supposed to take candy from strangers," Harvey cut in.
Adrian finally released Mike's hand and reached into the pocket of her lab coat to pull out a cotton swab. "Can I just take a tiny sample?" she pleaded.
"Adrian," a new voice warned. They glanced up to see an older man standing in the doorway. Adrian immediately pocketed the cotton swab and looked demurely at her feet.
"Hello, Daddy," she said.
"Werner," Harvey said. "Nice to see you again."
"Quite." Werner von Lingenmacht was a stern-looking man, with graying hair and a portly frame. He glared at Mike as he spoke. "I hope my daughter didn't alarm you, young man."
Mike thought he should have been frightened, but he was still reeling from Adrian's onslaught. "We were just… talking," he said cautiously.
"Well then, if you don't mind keeping her out of trouble for a few minutes, I'd like to speak with Harvey," said Werner.
"Daddy, I already told you. The Eavesdropper Doppler Device doesn't work! There's no way I'd be able to listen in on your conversation." She turned and winked at Mike.
"Indeed," Werner said stiffly. "Harvey? If you would?" He stomped out of the room.
"Of course," Harvey said. He leaned in to whisper to Mike. "Don't lick the light switch," he warned, and left.
Mike wasn't sure what Harvey had meant by that, but he had a sudden urge to find that light switch.
"Come down to my lab," Adrian said brightly as soon they were out of earshot. "I just got some new iguanas, and boy, are they thirsty!"
"I think I should stay here," Mike said slowly.
Adrian tugged on his sleeve. "You have some lovely hair," she said. "Could I borrow some?"
"I don't remember reading anything about Werner having a daughter," Mike said, hoping to distract her. It was a lie, of course. Louis had drawn several lines under her name in the file and included a list of illegible notes that boiled down to "SEETHING HATRED."
She grinned impishly. "I'd love to tell you everything about myself! But what will you give me in return?"
"I'm not giving you my hair."
"I kind of need that."
"Well, I've got an idea," she said. "Maybe you could teach me all about filing patents!"
Mike didn't hesitate. "I don't know anything about filing patents," he lied.
She twisted her mouth in disapproval. "But I need to know! It's for science!"
"If it's for science, why don't you just release your invention to the public domain?" Mike asked.
She frowned. "I know you know. Why won't you tell me?"
"Oh look, is that a Klein bottle?" Mike asked instead, moving to the table full of glassware.
"Yes!" Adrian said, excited again. "It's got root beer in it. You can try it if you like."
Mike warily eyed the hot pink liquid it contained. "I think I'll pass, thanks."
"How about this?" she asked, holding up a beaker full of a green solution. "It tastes just like cotton candy!" She pushed it into his face.
"Are you sure sanity-challenged is the word you want to use?" Mike asked desperately.
She giggled. "It's just something we scientists like to say," she said proudly. "Daddy doesn't really understand that about us."
"It doesn't look like he's stopping you," Mike said doubtfully.
Adrian sighed and placed the beaker back on the table. "He's been trying," she muttered. "He keeps going on and on about how he paid so much money so I could double major in Chemistry and Mechanical Engineering, and how I'm wasting my potential by inventing things instead of working for some soul-sucking corporation." She looked up at him with large eyes. "I measured it once, you know. Big companies suck out your soul at the rate of one-seventeenth parts per year." She pulled out a tiny machine and clicked it on. "You're at about ninety-five percent, so you've been working at Pearson Hardman for… at least nine months?"
"Could I borrow that?" Mike asked. "I'd like to try it on Harvey."
Adrian shoved the machine into his hands. "Last time I checked, he'd dropped below forty-nine percent," she said.
"You sure it's not broken?" said Mike. "It should have been zero."
She rummaged in her pockets and pulled out a novelty-size thermometer. "Could you hold this for a second?"
"What is all this stuff, anyway?" Mike asked, feeling bold.
"My life's work," she said. She removed a bag of bloodstained chicken feathers and placed it in Mike's arms.
"What are you looking for?" he queried.
"My phone," she said, tongue between her teeth. She pulled out a pair of wax lips and placed them on top of the pile Mike was holding. "Just a second."
Mike frowned. "Is it a green flip phone?" he asked, remembering one on a table in the front hall.
"Yes," she said absently. "I think I left it—" She placed a bottle of gopher repellent onto the pile. "—in my lab coat." An orange parasol was added to the heap.
"It's in the front hall," Mike said. The pile was getting heavy. "I could show you."
"No, no, that's all right," said Adrian, setting a three-pound weight on top. "I know I've got it here somewhere…"
"You know, I think I'm going to go check the front hall," Mike said, struggling not to drop anything. "I'll just put this down…"
"Ah ha!" she said triumphantly, pulling out a perfume bottle. She grinned up at him. "I found it!"
"…That's not a cell phone."
"Not yet," she told him proudly. "Here, try some!" Before he could protest, she sprayed some perfume in his face. Mike immediately dropped everything she had given to him and reeled back, coughing.
"What the hell—?" he managed before the coughing overtook him again.
"How do you feel?" Adrian asked. She'd produced a clipboard from one of her pockets.
"Like I just smoked a dust bunny," Mike wheezed. "What was that?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. "What do you know about filing patents?"
"I know Harvey doesn't want me to tell you about it," Mike said, feeling a little more talkative as he started to recover. "And that you should never ask Gregory to do it for you because he'll just rip you off and leave you high and dry."
"Hmm…" Adrian said.
"But then Louis did it for me, which was awesome, 'cause Harvey was being a total jerk," he went on, feeling invigorated. "Except that it didn't end up mattering because someone else filed first, and then Louis tried to blackmail me—"
"Fascinating," said Adrian. "But how do I file one?"
"First you have to know what you're filing for. It depends if you want to file a design or a utility. And they have separate patents for plants."
"What's the difference between design and utility?"
"In accordance with Title 35 of the United States Code, Section 171, a design is any new, original, and ornamental design for an article of manufacture, while under Title 35 of the United States Code, Section 101, a utility is any new and useful process, machine, manufacture, or composition of matter, or any new and useful improvement thereof," Mike recited. He felt like saying more, but had to pause for breath.
"Wow," Adrian said. "You know a lot! Are all lawyers this smart?"
"No," Mike said. He was feeling very talkative now. "I just read everything I can about the law, and once I read something I never forget it."
"Really?" she asked, bouncing on her toes. "Oh, you must let me do an electroencephalogram!"
"I don't want you to," Mike said. He couldn't stop talking. "I want to go back to the office now because I'd rather be stuck working with Louis than standing here talking to you." His eyes widened. "Oh my God. I'm supposed to say I'm sorry. I am sorry! But I still meant it. I don't really like you that much because I think you Maced me."
Adrian waved her hand dismissively. "Not to worry, Mr. Ross. I'm not offended." She raised her pen. "Now what else can you tell me about patents?"
"Everything," he said helplessly. He shut his eyes, but his mouth kept moving. "Article 1, Section 8 of the United States Constitution states that Congress shall have the power to promote the progress of science and useful arts, by securing for limited times to authors and inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries." Why couldn't he stop? "You have to file with the United States Patent and Trademark Office after you've decided how you want to go about it." Shut up! Shut up! "Utility patents are the most commonly filed. You can file provisionally or non-provisionally. Plant patents last for twenty years from the date of filing." Please stop. Please, please stop. "There are a whole bunch of fees you have to pay once it's been approved—"
"I don't really care about that," Adrian interrupted. "I'm not filing for a plant, and I'm not worried about the fees. I need to know how to file for—"
"You realize he's not technically on your retainer, right?" Harvey said, strolling into the room with his hands in his pockets. "So legally anything you tell him isn't covered under attorney-client privilege."
Adrian's eyes widened. "I didn't think about that!"
"Harvey, thank God," Mike said, relieved to see him. "I am so relieved to see you."
Harvey arched an eyebrow. "Wish I could say the same to you. What have you been telling her?"
"I was telling her about patents," he said, and froze. "I mean. I didn't want to tell you that."
Harvey frowned. "Well. I appreciate your honesty, I suppose." He nodded to Adrian. "Did you manage to stay out of trouble?"
She started walking backwards to the door. "Of course, Harvey! I wouldn't dream of doing anything troublesome!" Adrian raised her hand in mock salute and then scuttled away.
Harvey watched her retreat. "Okay. What did she do?"
"She Maced me," Mike said. "It really hurt."
"That's it?" Harvey asked, surprised. "Last time I was here she managed to clone me. Thing was a nightmare."
"I'd think that would make you happy," Mike said. "Two Harvey Specters in the same room? Sounds like a dream come true for you. Not for me, though. Hey, did you make out with your clone? 'Cause that's what I'd do. With my clone, not with yours. That'd be weird."
Harvey stared. "First, none of your business. Second, he was my clone, not my duplicate, so he might have looked like me but he sure as hell didn't act like me. And third, what the hell is wrong with your brain?"
"I'm thinking about you making out with your clone. It's really disturbing."
"Aaand you are not allowed to talk for the rest of the week," Harvey said, walking away.
"What happened to him?" Mike asked. "The other Harvey."
"He sacrificed himself saving the city from a giant ant."
Mike trotted after him. "Oh yeah, I remember that. Wait, that was you?"
"No, it was my clone. How is this being quiet?"
"Okay, okay. Sorry! I was just wondering, because you told Donna you wanted 'another you' when you hired me, so in a way I'm kind of like your clone."
"And I would very much like to see you die fighting a giant bug," Harvey said. "But Louis hasn't gotten tall enough yet."
"Louis is creepy," Mike said thoughtfully. "He kind of reminds me of a rat, actually. I bet he would totally make out with his clone, too."
"Mike," said Harvey wearily as they slid into the car. "Shut up."