Dana Scott broke eye contact first.
"Julian," she said, voice smooth, professional, as if they hadn't once shared casebooks and bad coffee and an understanding that never needed explaining.
"Dana," Julian replied.
That was it. No smile. No apology. No history lesson. She nodded once and continued down the hall, heels clicking with purpose. Julian watched her go, then turned back to his office like his pulse hadn't shifted at all.
Donna Paulsen appeared beside him out of nowhere. "Wow."
Julian blinked. "You walk quietly."
"I know," Donna said cheerfully. "It unsettles people. So. That was Dana Scott."
"Yes."
"That was also unresolved tension with legs."
Julian set his briefcase on the desk. "I'm unpacking."
Donna ignored that. "I'm giving you the tour."
"I know where everything is."
"Of course you do," Donna said. "This isn't about geography. It's about survival."
She gestured for him to follow anyway.
As they walked, Donna spoke rapidly. "Rule one: never surprise Jessica. Rule two: never corner Louis. Rule three: Harvey thinks he owns the kitchen on this floor. He doesn't, but arguing about it will cost you thirty minutes."
Julian nodded. "Noted."
Donna glanced at him. "You're very calm."
"I've been yelled at by senators."
"That explains it," she said. "Also, small thing—you ranked above Harvey at Harvard."
Julian stopped walking. "That's not a rule."
"No," Donna said, smiling sweetly. "That's leverage."
Before he could respond, Harvey's voice cut across the hall. "Cross. Conference room. Five minutes."
Donna checked her watch. "I'll start a timer."
Harvey was already pacing when Julian entered. Whiteboard half-filled, jacket off, sleeves rolled up like the argument itself had personally offended him.
"We've got a hostile takeover case," Harvey said. "Client wants speed."
"They always do," Julian replied, taking a seat instead of standing opposite him. That alone irritated Harvey.
"Your DOJ instincts are going to slow this down."
"Your instincts are going to get it challenged," Julian said calmly. "If we preempt the injunction, we control the narrative."
Harvey scoffed. "You're assuming they file."
"They will," Julian said. "At 4:17."
Harvey paused. "How do you know that."
"Because their lead counsel hates being predictable and is terrible at it."
A beat.
Harvey exhaled sharply. "I hate when you do that."
"You asked me here."
"No, Jessica did," Harvey corrected. "Big difference."
The door opened. Donna peeked in. "Five minutes were up ten minutes ago."
Harvey waved her off. "We're almost done."
Julian stood. "We're done."
Harvey stared at him. "You don't get to decide that."
Julian met his gaze. "I just did."
Another beat. Then Harvey laughed, short and incredulous. "You're unbelievable."
"So I've been told."
Outside the room, Donna fell into step beside Julian. "You made him stop pacing."
Julian frowned slightly. "Is that unusual?"
Donna's grin widened. "Extremely."
They reached Julian's office just as a young man with too much hair and too much nervous energy nearly collided with him.
"Oh—sorry—Mr. Cross—I'm Mike Ross."
Julian glanced at the stack of files in Mike's arms. "You're early."
"I like to be prepared," Mike said quickly. "For anything."
Julian took the top memo, skimmed it once, then handed it back. "Page three. Second paragraph. You hedge your conclusion."
Mike swallowed. "I—shouldn't?"
"You shouldn't if you're right," Julian said. "You are."
Mike nodded rapidly. "Got it. Thank you. Sir."
Julian paused, studying him for half a second longer than necessary. Mike's smile tightened.
"If I had a problem with you," Julian said evenly, "you'd already know."
Mike laughed. A little too loud. "That's—reassuring."
"It shouldn't be," Julian said, then stepped into his office and closed the door.
Mike stood there for a full three seconds before exhaling.
Across the glass, Dana watched him.
Later that afternoon, Julian was rereading a deposition when there was a knock. A real one this time.
"Come in."
Dana stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
"Why are you here," she asked, no preamble.
Julian considered her carefully. "Jessica asked."
"That's not an answer."
"I missed the weather," he said dryly.
She almost smiled. Almost.
"You could've stayed where you were," Dana said. "You liked it there."
"I liked parts of it."
"And the rest?"
Julian looked past her, at the city beyond the glass. "The rest got heavy."
Dana crossed her arms. "Try not to make things complicated."
Julian met her eyes. "I've never been good at that."
She studied him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Welcome back, Julian."
When she left, Julian sat very still.
From her office, Jessica Pearson watched the floor operate as it always had—efficient, ambitious, quietly cutthroat.
And then she watched it adjust.
Julian Cross wasn't chaos.
He was pressure.
And pressure changed everything.
END OF CHAPTER
Author's Comment:
Chapter 2 leans into rhythm—dialogue, banter, and quiet power moves. This story stays slice-of-life and comedic on the surface, with tension building underneath. Julian doesn't dominate by shouting; he disrupts by existing. The frenemy dynamic is in full effect, and Dana's slow-burn is intentional. Thanks for reading—Chapter 3 brings the first mini-case and even more workplace chaos.