Julian Cross learned two things the moment he stepped off the elevator at Pearson Specter.
First, the lobby was exactly the same. Same marble floors, same expensive quiet, same receptionist who looked like she could end wars with a phone call.
Second, people still remembered him.
The glances weren't hostile. They were cautious. That was new.
"Mr. Cross," the receptionist said, already standing. "Jessica Pearson is expecting you."
Julian nodded. "She usually is."
That earned him the smallest smile. He took it as a good sign.
The walk to Jessica's office felt longer than it used to, mostly because everyone pretended not to stare. Julian wasn't flashy. No tailored power suit designed to scream money. Just clean lines, dark jacket, calm posture. The kind of man who didn't announce himself because he didn't need to.
Jessica Pearson didn't look up when he entered. "You're late."
"You said noon," Julian replied. "It's eleven fifty-eight."
She smiled, slow and sharp, finally lifting her eyes. "Still irritating."
"Still effective," he said, taking the seat without being offered.
Jessica studied him the way generals study maps. "You've been busy."
"DOJ tends to do that."
"You could've stayed," she said. "You didn't."
Julian didn't answer immediately. He never rushed responses that mattered. "You didn't call me here to reminisce."
"No," Jessica said. "I called you because I need someone who knows how the other side thinks. Someone who can shut down a federal investigation without burning the house down."
"You want a firefighter," Julian said. "Not a closer."
"I already have closers." Her gaze sharpened. "I want control."
Julian leaned back. "And you thought of me."
"I thought of you ten years ago," Jessica said. "I'm only late today."
He considered that. "What's my title?"
"Special Counsel," she replied smoothly. "Direct line to me."
"Harvey won't love that."
Jessica's smile widened. "That's not a dealbreaker."
As if summoned by his name, the door opened without a knock.
"Tell me what's not a dealbreaker."
Harvey Specter stood there like the concept of confidence had put on a suit. Perfect hair. Perfect timing. Julian noted, distantly, that some things really didn't change.
Jessica didn't look surprised. "Harvey, you remember Julian Cross."
Harvey's eyes flicked to Julian, then stayed there. The air shifted. Not hostile. Not friendly. Familiar.
"Hard to forget," Harvey said. "Guy who made my law school life miserable."
Julian tilted his head. "You're welcome."
Harvey smirked. "I hear DOJ teaches manners now."
"They taught me patience," Julian said. "I see you skipped that class."
Jessica stood. "Julian will be joining the firm."
Harvey blinked. Once. "As what."
"Special Counsel."
Harvey's smile froze just enough to be interesting. "Of course he is."
Julian stood. "Good to see you, Harvey."
Harvey looked him over. "You get taller?"
"No," Julian said. "You just slouch when you're defensive."
Jessica cleared her throat, very deliberately. "Harvey, Julian outranked you at Harvard. He has DOJ experience. And he answers to me."
Harvey held Julian's gaze. "You here to babysit?"
Julian smiled faintly. "Only if you need supervision."
Jessica turned away before either of them could escalate. "Donna will show you to your office."
Harvey scoffed. "Corner's taken."
Julian waved it off. "I don't need it."
Harvey frowned. "Everyone needs it."
Julian paused at the door. "I prefer windows that open."
Harvey stared after him. "I already hate him."
Donna Paulsen was waiting outside, arms crossed, eyes bright with curiosity. She took one look at Julian and grinned. "Oh, this is going to be fun."
"I try not to be," Julian said.
Donna laughed. "That's what they all say."
She led him down the hall, passing associates who suddenly found their phones fascinating. "So," Donna said, "you really ranked above Harvey?"
Julian shrugged. "Technically."
"Technically?" she pressed.
"He refuses to acknowledge it," Julian said. "I try not to remind him."
Donna nodded seriously. "You're my favorite already."
His office was smaller than Harvey's, but brighter. One wall of glass, a view of the city, and none of the unnecessary intimidation furniture. Julian set his briefcase down, rolled up his sleeves, and exhaled.
Ten minutes later, Harvey was leaning in the doorway like he owned the place.
"You're really back," Harvey said.
"Looks like it."
"You here to judge us?"
Julian glanced at the city. "I already did."
Harvey snorted. "You always think you're right."
Julian turned. "I know."
Harvey pointed at him. "That wasn't a compliment."
"I didn't take it as one."
There was a beat. Then Harvey smiled, real this time. "Lunch. You still eat like a law student?"
Julian picked up a file Jessica had left behind. "You still order like you're compensating?"
Harvey laughed despite himself. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Assuming you're still standing," Julian said.
As Harvey left, Julian finally allowed himself a moment of stillness. Pearson Specter hadn't changed. The people hadn't either.
Which meant the real test wasn't whether he could survive coming back.
It was whether the firm could survive him.
Across the floor, Dana Scott paused mid-step when she saw him through the glass.
Their eyes met.
No shock. No drama.
Just recognition.
And something unfinished.
END OF CHAPTER
Author's Comment:
Thanks for reading Chapter 1! This story leans into slice-of-life, banter, and workplace comedy while keeping the Suits legal backbone. Julian isn't here to replace anyone—he's here to disrupt the balance quietly. Expect fast pacing, minimal angst, frenemy energy, and slow-burn romance with Dana. If you enjoyed the tone, stick around. Things are about to get inconvenient—in the best way.