Harvey and Scottie are back at his apartment, having just celebrated with dinner and drinks. They start reminiscing about the old days, until Scottie asks what he wants. "I want to work with you," he says. Unfortunately, he positions it as wanting to help her, like what she wants is for him to do this as a favor. He maintains that he still cares about her. She gets that, having heard it plenty of times from him lately, but it's not enough and so she says no. "If all you want to do is work with me, I can find a job somewhere else." She starts to leave, but Harvey stops her and says he wants more. "I want you in my life."
Mike opens his apartment door to Rachel, who has apparently waived a rule of her own just coming over here. She comes in, sits down, and says she's finished her list. And the answer is Stanford. Mike starts to talk, and then she rips it up, saying, "I don't need a list to tell me I don't want to be without you." Mike's so happy he doesn't even mind having been jerked around for the last hour.
Louis finds Sheila in the wood-paneled file room at Harvard ,where she appears to have laid out a little dinner for them. She says this is like home to her, and he realizes that this is where she wants him to say he wants to be exclusive with her…which he does. She returns the sentiment, and it's actually kind of sweet, in their usual semi-twisted way. They briefly debate whether it's going to be sex or the picnic first, but before either, she slips out to call her mom, telling Louis not to touch any of the files. Louis waits all of about five seconds after she leaves before opening a drawer and finding Harvey's file, complete with photo. Nice surfer hair, law-school Harvey. "What a douche," Louis sneers at the picture. Then he decides to go look up Mike Ross, but of course there's no file for him. Well, now everyone in the regular cast knows about Mike, and I guess we'll have to wait to see how that plays out when the show comes back for the second half of the season. But I'm sure Louis will handle this discovery with the utmost calm and maturity.
M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at M.Giant[at]gmail.com.