Suits: A Lawyer Surviving TV Chaos

The Williamsburg Diner, recently acquired by Han Lee, required minimal renovations to reopen. Martin's familiarity with Asian cultural sensibilities made negotiating Han's legal counsel contract effortless. 

After signing the $30k annual retainer agreement – a necessary expense in Brooklyn's gritty streets where guns and drugs lurked around every corner – Han brought celebratory drinks. 

"When does the diner open?" Martin asked, sipping his soda. 

"11 AM to 2 AM daily," Han checked the clock proudly. "Two shifts." 

Their conversation halted as the door creaked open. A leggy blonde in Louboutins peered inside, dragging a suitcase. "Hi… I'm Caroline Channing? Here for the waitress interview…" 

Han scurried over, barely reaching her collarbone. "I'm Han Lee! Owner!" 

Caroline's resume spilled out in a rehearsed rush: "Wharton MBA… experience at Manhattan fine dining…" utterly mismatched with the grease-stained diner. 

"You're hired! lets Start tonight!" Han declared, oblivious. 

"Wait—what about contract? Benefits? Healthcare?" Caroline faltered. 

Han froze. 

"No benefits. $11/hour minimum wage plus tips." Martin emerged, drink in hand. "Hello, Caroline." 

Her Gucci-clad facade cracked. "M-Martin?" 

Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been Manhattan royalty – tossing $80k shoes after two wears, choosing Lamborghinis like court concubines. Now? Five possessions to her name: two outfits, laptop, phone, and the taser currently sparking in her purse. 

Han glanced between them. "You know each other?" 

"Old friends." Martin's smile held memories – Harvard Library trysts over Tolstoy's original manuscripts. "I'll vouch for her. A bombshell blonde might… *enhance* your clientele." 

Han fist-bumped him. "My man!" 

When they reached outside, Caroline recoiled from Martin's touch. "I'm staying with friends—" 

"With a suitcase?" Martin cut through the lie. 

Defeated, she exploded: "There were four creeps on the subway!..... Everyone acts like I'm radioactive!" Sobs wracked her frame as Martin pulled her close. 

Afterwards at Pearson Hardman's partnered luxury hotel, Caroline slammed the suite door and crashed into him – a desperate, hungry kiss fueled by shame and adrenaline. Martin responded in kind, well-versed in her need to obliterate reality through friction. 

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