Donna breaks her ‘no pda at the firm’ rule when she finds herself under the mistletoe with Harvey. Aka mindless Christmas fluff. (read on ao3)
A/N: I haven’t written in a very long time and my finals only finished on Friday so my brain’s still recovering from that. So I hope this is okay. And of course, happy holidays to you all!
Donna felt as if she had been staring at her computer for hours. Maybe she had. She didn’t really know anymore.
Sighing, she propped her chin against her arm, balancing on a very fragile line that threatened to break and send her falling into a never-ending pit of frustration. It was her and Harvey’s first Christmas together as a couple and she wanted to get him something special. But the expensive bottles of whiskey plastered on the screen in front of her didn’t quite feel like…it.
Harvey was usually the one who botched the whole gift giving thing. It was why Donna had been purchasing presents on his behalf for years.
Yet it seemed that the one time she needed her powers the most, they decided to fail her.
Closing her laptop, Donna rose from her chair, needing to stretch her legs for a bit. Maybe she would venture into Harvey’s office and take a look around in the hopes of finding some inspiration tucked somewhere between his records collection.
“Hey,” the voice of the man himself broke her out of her thoughts, trapping her in the doorway.
He snaked an arm around her waist and she shot him a look, silently reminding him of their no pda while at work rule.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
In response, Harvey simply pointed upwards.
So Donna looked up, fighting the urge to roll her eyes even as the corner of her mouth quirked.
“Mistletoe? Really?”
Harvey shrugged, clearly biting back a grin of his own.
“This is the cheesiest thing you’ve done since we started dating.”
“And you love it,” he stated smugly.
“Cocky isn’t a good look on you,” she said, even as she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck.
“That look in your eyes says otherwise,” he mumbled against her ear in a low voice that turned her into nothing but a puddle on the floor.
“We’re still at work,” she said, trying to be firm but they both knew it wouldn’t take much to convince her otherwise.
“Half the firm’s already left. It’s practically empty.”
It was pretty late and most people had already gone home.
“Besides…it’s tradition,” he stated with a smile.
And it was that smile that seized her heart, gently caressing the beating object as if it was the most precious treasure to ever exist.
“Well we can’t break tradition now can we?”
With a grin herself, Donna met Harvey’s own upturned lips, kissing him thoroughly under the mistletoe. He pulled her even closer against him and she let her eyes fall shut, losing herself in all that he was. Her mouth moved languidly against his, in time to the seconds which seemed to slow down to allow them these few stolen moments. Familiar sunshine beamed throughout her veins, coaxing the bloom of flowers within her even in the middle of December.
His hands roamed her back and her fingers ran through his hair and she wanted more.
Donna craved skin against skin and Harvey’s tongue between her legs and it took every ounce of energy she possessed to pull away when she did.
Catching her breath, Donna found herself looking at the impressively hung mistletoe.
“How did you even get that up there?” she asked.
“You do not want to know how long it took. Damn thing kept falling.”
Something warm filled her at the thought of Harvey persistently trying to hang mistletoe in her office just so he could have an excuse to kiss her at work.
“Who knew Harvey Specter was such a softie on the inside?” she teased.
“You. Always.”
And she thought of the way he’d quietly paid her salary for years all because he needed her to come to the firm with him.
Of the words of course Donna I’d do anything for you.
I can’t be me without you.
Of flowers and glittering eyes and I’m a Donna fan.
She thought of clenched fists and panic and the thought of you going to prison makes me want to drop to my knees.
You saying you’re coming back to me?
Of his hand in hers, staring out at the city together in the wake of Jessica’s departure.
Of him dramatically tearing up her resignation letter, declaring he was okay only after she told him she would return to the firm.
And she thought of her fingers entwined in his, magic in the air as they danced the night away at Mike and Rachel’s wedding.
“I suppose I have,” she said softly.
His expression turned tender, staring at her as if she hung the moon in the sky.
“I love you,” he murmured.
Those three words still took her breath away. She hoped they always would.
“I love you too,” she replied easily, as if there was never a time when such a sentence was not allowed between them.
But those days of denial and concealed emotions had led them right here. This is where they were always meant to be.
“Oh and just now was only a taste of one of your Christmas presents by the way,” she added, simply because she could.
“So I have something extra special to unwrap?” he questioned suggestively.
Donna nodded before leaning in, whispering in his ear, “That particular present involves whipped cream.”
Stepping back, she watched his eyes darken, looking as if he wanted to devour her right there and then.
She wanted nothing more than for him to do just that.
Instead, she spun around and walked right out of the office with a smug smile that Harvey often wore. And exactly as she knew he would, he followed her, gently grabbing her wrist and leading her to the file room.
Inside, Donna may have been greeted by a lot more mistletoe.
And she and Harvey may have done a lot more than just kiss.
A what if story, where Harvey didn’t ask Donna to come back to work with him after the other time but to start a relationship. Then all those years later in PSL, they are married and probably parents but Donna isn’t the secretary, she is the wife- submitted to @paulsenspecter
A/N: I wasn’t exactly sure what to do with this but then this scene just popped into my head. I really hope you like it! (read on ao3)
Harvey stood in the doorway of his office, eyes glued to the tiny eight year old asleep in his chair. Crayons lay scattered on his desk along with the various artwork she’d done after he’d given her free reign of the place.
It had managed to slip both Harvey and Donna that today was a half day for Addy due to a teachers meeting. He and his wife had exchanged panicked glances over their daughter’s head after she casually mentioned it at breakfast. Things had been busier than usual at the firm lately and he knew it wasn’t any better for Donna over at Skadden.
In fact Donna hadn’t been able to leave at all during the day but luckily he’d had just enough time between meetings to pick up Addy and bring her back to work with him. Thankfully, she enjoyed her little trips to the firm, striking up conversation with everyone she came into contact with. The associates were especially fond of her and Addy loved the way they talked about cases with her like she was a grown up. Harvey had a mind they were all grooming her to be a lawyer one day herself.
He didn’t have the heart to tell them that she was dead set on being the first president of Mars.
Familiar hands suddenly caressed his shoulders and he let his eyes fall shut for a moment as he savoured the feeling.
“Long day?” Donna’s voice was soft in his ear as she leaned against him.
Harvey watched her as she now stared at the sleeping child in the room.
“I think we’ve all had a long day,” he said casually.
He wasn’t going to admit that he’d caught Addy awake at after one in the morning deeply engrossed in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Not when she’d immediately flashed him the smile she knew that got him to do anything and whispered don’t tell mommy.
“So our daughter isn’t passed out right now because she was up past her bedtime reading Harry Potter?”
Donna’s eyebrows shot up as she gave him a pointed look. He supposed after twelve years he should be used to her knowing everything.
“Alright. I caught her when I got home last night. But don’t tell her I told you.”
“The best closer in New York City can’t handle the wrath of a fourth grader?” Donna snorted.
“Well when she gets her wrath from her mother…”
Harvey didn’t bother to finish his sentence as Donna strode into the office and stretched out on his couch. He knew he should begin cleaning up his desk so they could head out but he took a seat right next to her.
He let his gaze lazily rove over her, at the light blue dress that hugged every curve of her body perfectly. At the almost scandalous dip in the neckline. At those legs extended in front of her. Legs that were best appreciated when they were wrapped tightly around him.
“I like having you in my office,” he said quietly.
“I know,” she replied. “You say that every time I’m in here.”
“Come work with me.”
It was a request that had been idly thrown around over the years.
“If I worked with you I’d have to divorce you,” Donna stated, bringing back that old rule of hers that hadn’t allowed him to start anything with her while they were at the DA’s office together.
Back then he had to be content with only casual flirting and shared drinks they pretended didn’t mean anything. But it always meant more. And it was never enough.
“That is so harsh,” he said, placing his hand on his chest as if he’d been wounded.
Donna merely grinned as she leaned closer, a piece of her hair falling into her face. He tucked the curl behind her ear, looking into those eyes that held the secrets to the universe.
Stars danced in them as she mused, “If I came over here I don’t think we’d ever get any actual work done.”
“That’s the point.”
Laughter softly bubbled out of her throat and the sound wound itself around his heart, warming his very soul. With the corners of his own mouth turned up, he leaned in even further until his lips met hers. His hands found her waist and she threw her arms around his neck while every bone in his body let out a blissful sigh.
Harvey kissed his wife slowly and thoroughly, flowers blooming in his stomach with the sunshine that cascaded through his veins.
“Hey, just reminding you guys that this office is made of glass and people are still in the building…walking right here just in case you two forgot.”
Not two seconds after they’d pulled apart did that familiar voice reach his ears.
“Always nice to see you Mike,” Donna said wryly from over his shoulder.
“Likewise.”
“Do you need something?” Harvey asked, twisting his neck to look at his smirking associate.
“Nope. Just looking out for my best friend and his wife.”
“Oh Mike can you tell Rachel I’m on for Girl’s Night this Saturday?” Donna inquired before Harvey could retort. “Things have been extra hectic lately and I forgot to confirm.”
“Sure no problem. It’s been a mess here too over the past few days,” Mike replied and Harvey noted the exhaustion lining his face despite the three cups of coffee he drank during the day.
He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kid.
“I actually have some work to go finish up before I leave. You two have a good night. In the privacy of your own home of course.”
And just like that any sympathy vanished.
“Get out,” Harvey called to his already retreating figure.
Turning back around, he was met with the sight of Donna yawning and something tugged at his heartstrings. Leaning forward again, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered.
They both stood and Harvey made his way over to his desk. Ignoring the mess, he picked up Addy, trying not to wince at how heavy she was getting. He had no idea where someone so small was putting all of that weight.
He tried not to think about the fact that soon he wouldn’t be able to pick her up at all because that wasn’t something he had completely come to terms with yet.
“You alright there Specter?” Donna asked as he walked over to where she was standing.
She did a poor job at hiding the amusement in her voice.
“I’m fine,” he grunted.
“I think someone’s getting a little old to be doing such heavy lifting,” she teased as they exited the office and began making their way to the elevator.
“If I’m getting old then so are you.”
Donna shot him a glare that had him biting his lip to keep from laughing.
“For your sake I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
Addy stirred as they stepped into the elevator and Harvey started rubbing soothing circles on her back. Her little snores resumed just as they reached the lobby and as he made to step out, he found Donna staring at them with the softest expression.
It was the same one he wore whenever he looked at his family.
With nothing but pure affection running through him, Harvey held a hand out towards his wife. Her smile remained as she laced her fingers through his before walking out, each step they took marking them closer to the blankets they’d burrow under while falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Holding on to the two most important people in his life on a chilly Thursday evening, Harvey’s heart was undoubtedly, absolutely filled.
Mornings have become Harvey’s favourite part of the day. (Read on ao3)
“If it’s gonna take much longer we can just get some on the way!” Harvey called out, sitting up in bed.
“Will you hold your horses?” Donna’s voice returned and he could just picture her rolling her eyes at him.
Less than ten seconds later, she walked into the room, a cup of coffee in each hand. Harvey smiled in direct response to the little glare she shot him.
Perching herself on the edge of his bed, she handed him his drink. An expectant look crossed her features as he took a sip.
“This is the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had,” he said as he always did.
“Told you it was worth the wait,” she quipped before sipping her own coffee.
All of a sudden, a vision danced at the edge of his memory. A dream he once had just like this.
Now though, it was all real. She was real.
Donna was sitting beside him wearing nothing but his shirt, her hair tousled from the night before. Sometimes Harvey still had trouble grasping the fact that this was his reality.
That out of everyone in the world, this perfect woman chose him.
“What’s that look?” Donna asked softly.
“I love you,” was his answer.
Three words that he had held at bay for so long, clutching them close to his chest and fearing to let them loose. But he wasn’t afraid anymore.
Her eyes softened, filling with affection and stars soared within his heart.
Leaning forward, Donna placed her cup on the nightstand and Harvey did the same. Her hands found his face as she straddled him and touched her forehead to his.
“I love you too,” she murmured.
And then she was kissing him as her declaration wrapped itself around his soul, tugging on the very essence of his being. Languidly, he slid his hands up her legs, relishing the fire already beginning to make its way through his veins. Her nails raked against the back of his neck and he was reduced to nothing but a pile of ashes.
Without warning, he flipped them over, grinning at the tiny squeal of surprise that escaped her.
“Let’s take the day off,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face against the crook of her neck.
“The firm needs us,” Donna declared as she playfully ran her fingers through the short strands of his hair.
“It has everyone else.”
“But it needs us.”
Letting out a groan, he rolled onto his back and pulled her against him.
It was new, having the place he fought so hard for lose its position at the top of his priorities. Even when he was in relationships, his career had always come first. He missed dates to go to meetings and forgot to return calls because of cases. His work was constantly at the forefront of his mind.
Yet with Donna, it was different. But he supposed she had always been different.
From the very start, she could make him forget about the world. Now, she was his world.
It wasn’t that he had stopped caring about his job of course. It was just that he had found that he cared about her more.
Staring at her as she absentmindedly traced patterns on his t-shirt, sunshine pooled at the bottom of his stomach. It was a familiar feeling that he came to love.
“Let’s retire,” he said quietly, only half joking.
A laugh burst from her throat and Harvey revelled in the sound, catching the notes from the air to save them for later.
“You would get bored within the first thirty minutes,” she said, slightly lifting her head from his chest in order to meet his gaze.
“Not anymore. Now I have you to keep me company.”
“I would get bored within the first thirty minutes.”
“Oh I can think of lots of ways to keep you occupied,” he smirked, his voice low in her ear.
“Like what?” she asked with mock innocence as her own eyes darkened.
“Something like this,” he whispered before hovering over her again.
He pressed his lips against her jaw, satisfaction surging through him as she sucked in a breath. His mouth worked its way down her throat and he began unbuttoning his−now her−shirt as each kiss was planted lower than the last.
“Harvey, we need to get ready for work,” Donna breathed out, even as she hooked a leg around his waist to bring him closer.
“Five more minutes,” he grunted before pulling away the material and flicking his tongue across her nipple.
She moaned, arching into him which sent shivers running down his entire body.
“Five more minutes,” she managed to agree, while her hand moved beneath his boxers.
“Fuck,” he swore as she cupped him and his need to feel every inch of her, to be inside her only intensified.
And so, Harvey spent the rest of the morning worshipping Donna Paulsen, watching her unravel beneath him more than once. He took utmost pleasure in devouring every bit of her, causing her toes to curl and his name to fall from her lips in a prayer and plea.
Needless to say, they did not make it on time to work that day. But neither complained, least of all Donna.
prompt: set in 7b, h&d arent talking and one day an angry client walks in with a gun i know this is kinda specific but i really cant get this out of my head so it's totally fine if you cant/wont!! i really really love your fics btw!! you girls are awesome!!
You know I read a shit ton of fics post 7x10 in which Donna is involved in an accident running away from the firm and somehow that begins the process of her and Harvey getting together. Let’s spin this around? Lol please- submitted to @paulsenspecter
This is something inspired by these two prompts. Not exactly what either asked for but I hope everyone still likes it! (Read on ao3)
Donna stared at the still form on the hospital bed, her heart in her throat. It had been lodged there since the beginning of time. She wasn’t even sure how long it had been since…
Abruptly, she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She wouldn’t think about it. She couldn’t.
When she opened them, her gaze automatically fell on him once more as those familiar waves of sadness threatened to drown her.
Harvey.
Leaning forward, she grasped his hand in her own trembling ones. They had been shaking for days.
The dam inside her chest was close to bursting as she took in how cold he felt. How lifeless.
She couldn’t help but remember another time when her hand was in his. When the music playing in the background faded away and they danced to the beating of their hearts entwined together, their own melody as the rest of the room turned to dust. He spun her around and she grinned, drunk on the sparkle in his eyes, the touch of his skin more potent than champagne. Tenderly, he had caressed her hand and her cheeks turned pink while the hopes buried in her stomach soared like shooting stars, the taste of more on the tip of their tongues.
It was a night that was worlds away.
Donna would give anything to have it back. To live in those precious few moments forever.
She would give everything for Harvey to just open his eyes.
“Please,” the word escaped her throat, barely a whisper as she held his hand to her lips.
Please don’t leave me.
Her plea fell on deaf ears.
The heavy weight of exhaustion prompted her eyes to close for a second but a second was all it took for everything to come rushing back.
The shot echoing throughout the firm, the sound ringing in her ears.
The blood on his shirt.
The screaming she hadn’t even realised was coming from her.
His eyes falling shut.
Her own eyes flew open as she leaned back against her seat, trying and failing to force oxygen into her lungs. But all she kept seeing was red red red the ribbons tying themselves around her throat in a pretty little bow all wrapped up in a neat present for the demons crying out inside her brain.
She remembered Louis having to pry her off Harvey when the paramedics finally arrived. It was Louis who had pulled her down behind her desk when the gunshot went off, even as she fought with everything in her because she knew. She remembered eventually breaking free and running into his office to find security already detaining their ex client but all of her focus had instantly been stolen by him. The sight of Harvey Specter lying broken on the floor was one that would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life.
Donna couldn’t stop remembering.
Each recollection was a knife all too eager to slice through her chest. The pieces of her heart lay scattered around her in the midst of the ruins that once was her life. Donna’s universe crumbled right along with Harvey.
She wished she had kissed him years ago.
She wished she hadn’t lied about the kiss.
She wished she had told him she loved him when he would have still been able to hear her.
She wished.
“Just come back,” she croaked out.
Suddenly, as if on cue, Harvey’s eyes fluttered open as if whatever god was listening took pity on the shattered woman begging for mercy.
Time held its breath, the earth coming to a stop as every moment to ever exist simply ceased to be.
“Donna,” Harvey murmured.
Two syllables that fractured the air and made her heart start beating again. Her name had never sounded so sweet.
“Harvey,” she breathed out, voice filled with relief.
For a minute he did nothing but stare at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. Donna devoured every second, gorging herself completely.
“How long have I been here?” he asked quietly after a while.
“Um…a few days,” she answered. “I’m not exactly sure how much.”
“Have you been here the whole time?”
“More or less. Louis dragged me home to shower and get some rest and he brought Gretchen and Katrina as reinforcements but…”
“You’re more stubborn than all of them combined and came back here as soon as you could,” he finished with a knowing smile.
“I didn’t want you to wake up alone,” she confessed softly.
“I’m glad I didn’t.”
He pulled his hand away from hers and Donna flushed, an apology or maybe an excuse rising on her tongue but he reached out to gently wipe away some of the tears that ran down her cheeks. She didn’t know when she had started crying again. She hadn’t been aware that her body had any tears left to begin with.
The mere touch of Harvey’s skin on hers sent lightning speeding through her veins. She was alive again.
So was he.
It was that electricity that sparked recklessness within her.
“Harvey I-”
I love you.
However she caught the sentence before it ran away, painfully swallowing each letter.
What on earth was she thinking? This was not the time.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“Donna,” he said tenderly, uttering those two syllables with utmost affection as he always did. “Talk to me.”
“I thought I was going to lose you,” she found herself saying, her throat closing up again.
“You won’t ever lose me.”
“Even if I told you that I lied about the kiss?”
Familiar fear began to wrap itself around her as she watched his eyes widen.
“What?”
“I lied when I said I didn’t feel anything,” she told him. “And when I said I didn’t want more. You were angry and I got scared so I panicked because…”
The corner of her mouth turned up in a sad smile as she trailed off.
“Because I couldn’t lose you.”
She almost lost him anyway.
Silence blanketed them as the seconds ticked by with fate sitting on the edge of her seat. Donna’s hands were clenched in fists, nails digging into her skin. A part of her wanted nothing more than to run away.
“I lied too,” was the confession that ended the world.
Donna blinked at him, unable to comprehend what he was saying while her heart thundered out of control.
“I lied when I told you that I didn’t want more,” he continued. “I was angry at you for kissing me while I was with someone else but more than that I was angry with myself. Because I enjoyed it. Because I wanted you to do it again. And again and again. Because Donna when you kissed me I felt everything. And I couldn’t help but think, how does this make me any better than my mother?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” she said, her eyes welling up again.
“I know that now. I was just afraid too. You once accused me of being too afraid of risking anything and you were right. Except the thing I couldn’t risk was you. I’m afraid of losing you too you know. Always have been.”
“You’ll never lose me,” she echoed.
It was a promise that seared itself into their hearts, painting them in shades of gold.
A weight had lifted itself from Donna’s shoulders and her mere existence felt lighter. There was still so much to say, years and years of conversations to be pulled out from under the carpet they’d been dusted under. For now though, with Harvey looking at her with adoration and hope in his eyes, this was enough.
All of a sudden, a yawn rose up within her, all of those sleepless nights catching up to her.
“You need to get some sleep,” Harvey said with a frown.
“I’m fine,” she replied, earning herself a look. “I’m not leaving you.”
Harvey sighed, knowing full well that this was an argument he would not win.
So he scooted over, his movements careful in order to keep all of his stitches and everything in tact.
“Get in,” he said, motioning for Donna to join him on the bed.
“I’m not-”
“You haven’t slept for I don’t know how long and you aren’t gonna get a good rest sitting in that chair. I know better than to try to convince you to go home because I would just be wasting my breath. So get in.”
Donna held her ground for all of two seconds before climbing in beside him. She was tired and yearned for the sweet release of sleep more than anything else.
Her heart picked up its pace again as she settled in. It wasn’t as if this was the first time they were sharing a bed. However, that other night might as well have been a lifetime ago.
Harvey pulled the thin hospital sheets up around them and Donna’s eyes were already beginning to fall shut as she leaned against his shoulder. In the moments right before she drifted off, her hand found his chest and it was only when she could feel his heart beating beneath her touch did she allow herself to dream.
The realisation that her hand didn’t shake anymore was her last thought before she finally slept.
Donna and Harvey share a dance at Mike and Rachel’s wedding. (Read on ao3)
Harvey stood at the bar, head spinning.
Mike was leaving.
The announcement threatened to crack his earth in two, one jagged line piercing his chest.
First it was Jessica. Now Mike. Who would be next?
How long until everyone walked away, leaving him all alone in the empty halls of his heart?
It was a question that tugged at his core, a thread longing to unravel until there remained nothing left of him. Until he disappeared too.
He’s leaving he’s leaving he’s leaving were the words that repeated in his mind over and over like a broken record until they turned into they’re leaving they’re leaving they’re leaving. The syllables grew limbs, fingers wrapping themselves around his throat and squeezing until his lungs begged for mercy.
“Hey,” was the sound that broke him away from the hell that was waiting to consume him.
The sound that pulled him from the water intent on drowning him.
But it wasn’t the sound, no. It was the person.
Harvey’s head whipped around to stare into the eyes of his saviour.
Donna’s own head was slightly tilted as she asked a million questions without even opening her mouth.
Yet all of a sudden, the world seemed to be alright.
The ground beneath his feet steadied as air began circulating throughout his body again.
Donna standing beside him with her hand in his flashed at the edge of his memory. She was the one who was there when Jessica left. It was she who had told him the news of his father’s death, who encouraged him to go to the funeral. And she who convinced him to make things right with his mother.
Someone very special.
It was always Donna.
She was his life raft.
So Harvey did the only thing he wanted to do in that moment and held his hand out to her.
“What do you say?” Harvey inquired, the most important question he had ever asked hanging in the air.
The seconds dragged cruelly as he waited for an answer.
But then the corners of her mouth quirked up as she said, “I don’t mind if I do.”
A simple sentence that made sunshine burst in his veins.
And then her hand was in his and she was leading him onto the dance floor and all of the demons screaming inside him fell silent.
He spun them around, capturing the smile that graced her features and storing it in his pocket for later.
The rest of the room faded into dust as Harvey and Donna danced like they were the last two people on the planet. For Harvey, they were.
Donna Paulsen was the only person he had eyes for. But that was nothing new was it? In the middle of a crowd, he always searched for her. Everyday. Everywhere.
Nothing else would matter but that first second when he caught sight of that flash of red hair. His chest sparked every time.
And tonight she was radiant.
Donna was the sun and god she was blinding but he couldn’t look away. He wanted more. He wanted to be closer.
Was this how Icarus felt?
In a rare moment, Harvey listened to the voice whispering in his ear and pulled her closer. He cradled her hand in his, allowing himself to indulge in the luxury of her touch.
He was burning, fire licking at his skin but he had never been more alive. He yearned for more.
Harvey would gladly become ashes if it meant that he could hold Donna in his arms for the rest of his life.
But he wasn’t allowed to want such things.
Donna didn’t feel anything for him. She didn’t want more.
And Harvey spent a long time telling himself that he didn’t want more either. In fact, he started to believe it.
However when Donna pressed her lips against his, twelve years’ worth of lies came crumbling down.
He told Mike that just because Paula wasn’t the one, it didn’t mean that Donna was but that wasn’t the truth either.
Because what else could it mean when he couldn’t get the taste of her out of his mouth? What did it mean when he couldn’t stop feeling her hands on him, caressing the back of his neck, his face? What could it mean when he couldn’t get the thought of her out of his head?
And more importantly, what did it mean when he didn’t want any of it to stop?
It was a shame that the realisation that he was ready to risk everything came when it was too late.
“You okay?” Donna asked softly, pulling him out of his head for the second time that night.
Her expression was filled with concern as she stared at him and he quietly shattered without knowing why.
“Will you dance with me for the rest of the night?” he answered her question with one of his own.
There was something in the air that made him reckless. Something bold about the night, daring him to wander too near to the edge of the already blurred line that defined them. Or maybe it was just the stars sparkling in her eyes.
“Hm,” she pretended to think about it. “Yes.”
“Then I’m okay.”
Donna rolled her eyes despite her upturned lips but it was the truest thing Harvey ever said.
The sky could fall to the earth and the world cease to spin but Harvey would survive a thousand apocalypses with Donna by his side.
“You look beautiful by the way,” he said, the sentence that had been on the tip of his tongue all night.
For the briefest of moments, Donna looked away before meeting his gaze again and he couldn’t help but wonder if he imagined the slight blush in her cheeks.
“I always look beautiful,” she stated in a tone that left no room for arguments.
As if he would ever disagree.
“True.”
“You look nice yourself,” she commented even though he looked the same as always.
“Thank you. It takes a lot of time and effort to look this good.”
“Alright, calm down pretty boy.”
“Aw, you think I’m pretty?”
“I think you’re beautiful,” she grinned.
A burst of laughter erupted from his throat and time slowed just for them as Harvey found himself lost in everything that she was. Every minute that ever lived embraced death because none of them mattered anymore. Harvey and Donna swayed in the bubble they unknowingly built around themselves years ago, electrified.
Each nerve in his body longed for all the things he could never have.
He wanted her mouth against his. He wanted to feel her heart beating against his own. He wanted to graze his fingers down her back, across her stomach, everywhere. He wanted to paint pictures on her skin with his lips and make her see colours she never knew existed. He wanted to hear the sounds she made as she came undone, his name a cry on her lips like a prayer just like on that night once upon another time.
He wanted.
And maybe in another universe he would get to take her home at the end of the night and wake up beside her in the morning. In another timeline they would make dinner together in the kitchen while she wore one of his old shirts. In another life maybe they would dance just like this while she wore a white dress instead of black.
But in this one, they were nothing more than what they were.
So when Donna carefully placed her head on his shoulder, Harvey let his eyes fall shut. He held onto her, to this moment with everything in him because while eventually it would end, right then they were perfect. Right then, they were on top of the goddamn world.
And in the arms of the woman who was everything, Harvey finally allowed himself to fall, even knowing that there would be no one to catch him in the end.
COuld you please write a 7.12 fic related please plaease im sorry for bothering you
So this is the scene of the two of them drinking together and listening to his father’s records. The one piece of context somebody might not know is that during a flashback to Harvey’s childhood in this episode Gordon’s band is playing a song called “Boppin’ with Donna”.
Sometimes I like to write a fic that starts on nothing and goes nowhere, you know, like the show. I hope it’s not too bad - Maria
Reticent
“Rememberwhen-”
“Ido.”
“Youdidn’t let me finish.”
Shechuckles, looks over at him with an eyebrow raised cockily “Really?”
Hersmugness stirs something beneath his chest, a warmth, a momentum only she canprovoke. It makes him feel guilty, the intimacy and precision in the way sheaffects him, dangerous. He swallows it down, dry and thick. Feigns indifferencehe figures she sees right through.
He rollshis eyes, “Sure, what was I saying?”
“Youwere going to ask if I remember another time we heard this song,” there’s notease in it but perhaps a little nostalgia, she understands his resistance tospar, she always understands.
Henods unspoken gratitude even though their agreements are supposed to beentirely elusive. A tired sighs pours out of him feeling the weight of theirrecent misunderstandings then, like fifty pounds sitting on his chest, stealinghis breath. He forces himself to shake it off “With my dad,” he meant todistract from the choking way he thinks about her now, in these increasinglyrare moments, like the two of them, as a unit, are fading, but it outs in awhisper like it is holy. In some ways, he figures it is.
“Withyour dad,” She agrees quietly, lovingly, a reflection of the sanctity in hisvoice refracted and divided like light into purer, more colorful sentiment.
Shehas always been better at this than he, better at feeling his feelings.
Therecord gasps and stops, saddling them with imperfect silence, the hum of thecity, ghosts and blurred edges. Harvey reaches over and lifts the needle beforeit can sing again.
Heleans back into the cushions, rolls his wrist until the amber in his tumblerspirals like a drain. His mind swirls and sinks with it, struck by a memory.
“Firsttime you heard it, right?” He asks almost sweetly; halting the swirl by rollingthe glass the other way he turns to her slowly.
Pastblends into present, he blames the scotch for seeing two of her overlapped. Oneexists minus ten years with longer hair and brighter clothes, bangs and a lotless complication; the other has been wearing black for the last week andhasn’t made him coffee in a year.
Hewonders who he would pick, fleetingly; knows without a doubt he would chooseher now, whenever now is. The most important thing has always been that she stays.
Donnasmiles, “Yeah, and he had the brass to say it was for me,” She reminisces,leaning forward. She pours herself another dose. The crystalline sound of thebottle touching the edge of glass ricochets across empty space prettily; theirtheme song.
“Itis your name in the title,” Harvey argues with faux gravity, still seeingdouble. In his mind’s eye, her dress is purple and his father’s voice ischarming, he never missed a beat with her.
“Itjust happens to precede my arrival by a couple of decades,” She counters.
Harveyscoffs, “Your arrival?”
Shenods “Yes, the amazing, life changing day, you met me,” she declares grandly.
He agreesbut cannot agree, “Seriously?”
Sheputs one hand on her chest, mouth agape, the picture of over-dramatic outrage“Oh, I’m sorry, we just established I was prophesied.”
“Inever said that.”
“Ithink you did.”
“No,I didn’t.”
Donnastraightens herself, crossing her legs and resting her hands on top of eachother on her knee, she stares him down seriously “Your honor, I think thedefendant is aiming for a perjury indictment.”
Harveysnorts a laugh, surprised as she sparks to life the old routine, there’sdelight but also an ache to it as they flex muscles they haven’t used forlonger than he had realized, “I believe the prosecution is distorting theevents,” he rebuttals setting down his glass to focus.
Donna narrows hereyes, pretends to look down at imaginary papers and push up glasses she doesn’tneed, “Mr. Specter, do you deny the day you met me was life changing?”
Harvey rolls hiseyes, “Really?” He whines.
“Plead the fifth?”She offers defiantly.
“Coward’s move andyou know it,” he chastises.
“If the shoe fits,”she says, reaching for her glass and taking a sip that does not break eyecontact. He watches the glimmer of humor in her hazel eyes and only marginallyremembers this is exactly what he was supposed to be avoiding.
“Whether you did ordidn’t is not the point, the point is I never said it,” he argues smugly.
“Well, well,” Donnastarts, leaning back with poise and pride, resting her forearms on the arms ofthe chair and drumming her fingers on the edges reflexively, “I see we havelowered ourselves to technicalities. Cheap.”
Harvey smiles, “Aslong as it gets results.”
“No honor,” she nods disapprovingly,though a laugh is edging behind her lips.
It is something elsehe has not seen in a while, this specific expression, he wonders if they reallyhave been fading or if he just hasn’t been paying attention. Which reminds him.
“My father did writea song for you,” he blurts out.
Donna lets the laughfly, he has heard it plenty but it is still welcoming warm familiarity, “No, hedidn’t,” She tells him like it is sure and obvious, like he has had too much todrink.
“He did,” Harveyinsists, wondering how he could forget, though maybe he is stretching thetruth, “He kinda did,” He corrects himself.
Donna raises aneyebrow, sustaining her suspicion “Kinda?”
“He never recorded it.It was a draft,” he reveals, “He said he got inspired out of the blue one day,”Harvey sinks into the memory, he himself only heard it once.
It was at his father’sapartment during a damp New York summer afternoon and they had run out of otherthings to talk about. Gordon hesitated to play him the song, kept explaining himself.Harvey mostly thought it was funny, “He asked me not to tell you,” He hadn’tand then it had never come up again, “I’m sorry, I forgot,” he apologizes and turnsto find her eyes, they’re glossed over with unshed tears. He blinks andrealizes so were his when wet warmth rolls down his cheeks.
“Did he write itdown?” It moves the very ground he stands on that that is the first thing sheasks, that she misses his father too.
It hurts all the moreto have to answer, “If he did, I never found it.”
She sighs, “If you do,it’s mine,” assertive but kind.
He sees the purple dressagain and bright red hair cascading over it as she throws her head back tolaugh at Gordon’s blunt flirting, “Of course,” he whispers so gravely it feelsmore binding than any contract. He could not deny her most things, much lessthis.
Donna nods, takes adeep breath and lets it out slowly, “You really killed the casual mood,” shejabs.
Harvey smiles, shakeshis head, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, I wantedto know, I just wish you hadn’t done the job halfway,” she says it between asmile, it is a joke, an absolution, but he can see the edge of disappointmentin her eyes. He cannot read them as perfectly but that is a look he has alwaysbeen afraid of and paradoxically only grown more familiar with. He needs to dissolveher ache.
“Hey,” he whispers,reaching for one of her hands and stopping short of touching, they have kissedand hugged but he doesn’t know where they draw this new line, if meaning it toomuch violates its borders, “I am sorry,” he tells it from his core and watchesher drink it into hers.
“It’s okay,” sheanswers, her fingers tremble, itching to bridge the gap between them, insteadshe recoils not wanting the blame for breaking them again just for trying toinch closer, “It’s okay.”
They are too tangled,metaphorically, sometimes he wonders if he can even shake her off withouthollowing himself out, wonders if she feels the same. He is selfish enough towish she does, it would mean some kind of barrier from the searing pain ofbeing left. He is selfless enough to also wish she doesn’t for a chance tonever hurt her again with his careless needs.
He should not be thinkingabout any of that, “We finished the bottle,” he points out flatly, stealing aglance at the half inch of scotch left inside the glass.
She follows his gaze,“We almost did,” Donna says andreaches for the neck, downs the rest in one gulp, “There, now it’s done,” Hewatches with bemused surprise as she sets the empty Macallan back on his centretable, turns it between her fingers to ponder the label, “At least it was justa 12 year.”
“You say that like itmakes us less drunk,” he remarks, covering her hand on the bottle with hiswithout thinking, without pretense, just to turn it to him so he can also read.Hers falls away a second later, he wonders if it means she is afraid to touchhim now, hopes not.
“It doesn’t,” sheagrees, “I think I’m tired,” she says and points it with a yawn.
“You think?” Harveysmiles affectionately, “Are you brewing a hangover?” He asks, mildly worried.He knows scotch can upset her stomach and that she hates to vomit, he alsoknows she has some secret hangover cure she never told him about because itwould ‘encourage his bad habits’. How the tables have turned; he is barelydizzy.
“Are you asking thatas my boss or my friend?” She interrogates, side eyeing him suspiciously.
“Both,” because he isboth, needs her there tomorrow morning but also cares if she will be miserablethe entire night.
“I’ll be late, butI’ll be fine,” she bargains.
His eyebrows knighttogether, “You don’t have to come in,” the complacency is immediate, so muchfor thinking he can accept her misery.
One corner of herlips pulls up, she wants to say that is not the business-wise decision “I’ll behere,” she reassures him instead. She is a little disappointed in herself forbeing so averse to letting him down even in small ways.
Donna smoothes outthe skirt of her dress and stands on surer legs than the half bottle she drank wouldhave anyone guess.
“Already?Lightweight,” He teases, sneaking a glance at his watch, a quarter to midnight.
“I thought you had tobe home an hour ago,” She bites back, the implication is a double-edged sword,reminds him he has someone waiting; reminds her that she does not.
Harvey presses hislips together and watches his hands intently. She sighs, taking pity on him,like always.
“Sorry, I need Advil,”she breathes out tiredly.
He nods, “You’reright,” he says without meeting her eyes, “Good night.”
Donna considers him,them. She is tired and dizzy and has a headache brewing behind her eyes; it isnot her job to heal him, it never really was, “You know, I was wondering,” Shestarts and waits until he looks at her again, “Would I make a good lawyer?” ahand outstretched, it isn’t her job,she volunteers to save him.
Harvey allows himselfa small smile, “Thinking about going to law school?”
She scoffs, “God no.”
His eyebrows shootup,”Excuse me?”
She rolls her eyes,“You know what I mean.”
He does. He takes apause to think on it “You wouldn’t,” he answers earnestly.
She is mildlysurprised; Donna narrows her eyes at him, “Not smart enough?” As if, she isfishing and he knows it, she wants him to know it.
Harvey snorts alaugh, “You’d overachieve I’m sure,” it is what she wanted to hear, theexpected, but he isn’t done “Too good,” He adds, “You’re… too good,” headmits softly, with candid admiration.
Her breath hitches,he can do that sometimes, when it’s almost midnight and he knows she will dohim the courtesy of not bringing it up in the morning.
“You’re a goodperson, Harvey,” their lives might be easier if she could not read him sofluently.
He presses his lipstogether and shifts his eyes to the floor, index anxiously thrumming the glassstill in his hand, “Not always,” he made a lot of mistakes, can’t tell whichone is knocking on his conscience the loudest right now, “Not like you.”
“Well,” she startsgood-naturedly, “Nobody is like me,” Donna brags jokingly.
Harvey smiles andshakes his head “I’ll drink to that,” he announces and empties his tumbler.
She watches and sighs,feeling the prickle of the headache intensify, “Now it’s good night.”
He nods, “It is,” heagrees without looking.
She can feel histhoughts, his regrets, makes it hard to detach, “Are you okay enough toremember your address?” She teases, hanging back, a subtle way to ask if he isokay.
He snorts, “Sharp asa razor, I just…” he lingers, deciding if he wants to keep her “I think I’lllisten to a few more,” He admits, “Since nobody else will from now on.”
He hardly ever makesit easy on her.
Donna sighs, crossinghis office to pour herself a glass of water. She takes a pill from her bag nextto it and swallows it down with one sip, then moves to the window where therecords are stacked and lifts two of her favorites, “Which one?”
Harvey almost offersher an out, but there is no point in pretending he does not still need herthere, that he didn’t choose the words to make her stay “Left,” he picks andshifts on his seat, reaching for it.
She pulls the vinyloff the sleeve and hands it to him, waits until he gently trades the one on therecord player for it before going back to her seat. Once she’s settled Harveylets the needle drop and his office fills with his father’s music.
“I miss him,” hewhispers like he is trying to hide the confession in between the notes.
Donna closes hereyes, leans her head back until she’s facing the ceiling and breathes it in, “Iknow,” she answers.
They don’t speakagain except to mumble simple goodbyes an hour later, giving life permission togo on unhinged at dawn.
Emotions run high after the wedding, and Donna and Harvey struggle to find each other, making comfort take pain’s place. M in second chapter to come. Two-shot. Post 716.
Her back presses against the door's thin barrier, the only tangible thing standing between her and Harvey. She realizes once again how flimsy all of the intangible dividers between them remain. None of them solid enough to truly separate them, but all of them obstructing forward momentum. She pushes off of the surface, flips on the light, and slips her straps from her shoulders, letting her dress fall to the floor.
Next she removes her black lace thong, hanging the dress and lingerie on a hook, then starts unpinning her hair while watching in the mirror. The fact that Harvey could see her like this with the turn of the door handle, or an open of the shutters behind the tub taunts her. Makes her want to take control.
She could march out right now, and do what she'd done that day in his office. Brazenly. Recklessly. A siren to his disorientating equivocation. He'd reject her or fuck her and they could get the damn thing out of the way, and deal with wherever the remains scattered.
The assurance he'd made her state that morning stops her. It's never going to happen again. Wisdom informs her she can't repeat the similar action twice.
She pins her hair loosely on her head, needing a shower before she'll sleep. The crook in her neck still feels cool from the moisture of his kiss, and her body still feels the reactive heat. Tension over the day rinses away, but doesn't stop images of his open mouth exploring refreshed skin. The water does nothing to ease her trepidation over her feelings of things unknown.
When she's done, she stares at his folded clothes on the counter. Her body will inhabit the same spots his does in the material; an image that twinges sensual places. She forces the thought to flit away. They're not the leads in a racy romance movie, even if a couple of those looks he'd thrown her would've given her the green light with any other man.
She dresses, frees her hair again, and steps out, thankful for the dim lights because of the translucent barrier men's white undershirts provide. When he sees her, his eyes do a quick scan of her anyway, then lock on her face.
All the words always left unsaid hang above them like an overfull net, waiting for one to tumble out.
One of his does first. He takes a step, face set, and hand lifting to punctuate his point. "Look, I didn't invite you here because I was upset with you, and I sure as shit can't handle something else getting in between us again so soon." His jaw slackens, lips parting as if the words to come take more of an effort. "Look, I don't know how to do this."
This. For once, she wishes they could stop speaking in vague pronouns and adjectives. "It's okay, Harvey. It's been rough lately." She doesn't help the grammar conundrum. She's not one to first concede.
He nods briefly, still not looking completely settled.
She turns to the minibar, the bottle of Pinot Noir calling to her. "After you get ready," she picks up the wine, "you wanna share a glass?"
"I'm sure we could both use it."
While he disappears in the restroom, she pours for them both and sets the half full glasses on a small table, taking a seat and adjusting the boxers and T-shirt for coverage, feeling out of her element.
When he emerges, he's wearing an almost identical set to hers. She bites a lip, holding in the newfound amusement.
"What?" he deadpans.
She motions to him, not bothering to explain the bubbling humor inside.
His lips purse together, and he gives her that boyish head-slant of his. "My PJ's didn't get washed from the trip," he explains. He falls into the chair next to her. "No peaking," he demands as he adjusts his groin area.
She locks her eyes on his brow, not daring lower. "That goes double for you, Mister."
An air of annoyance flashes on his face. "You know I'm a gentleman with you."
The words are supposed to reassure, but something in them stings. "I know." She sits straighter, fighting the urge to frown.
He wears one instead. "I see you, Donna. I just respect the boundaries you set."
"I know."
The corner of his mouth curls, his gaze dropping to her barely covered legs. "If you want me to notice, I can."
She squeezes her thighs together, which she instantly regrets because of the friction it causes. She sips her wine instead, speaking into the glass to mask her flush. "I'm not hurting for attention."
"Of that I'm well aware." There's an accusation in his voice, of which she ignores. "And for the record, I know you look at me."
"If you need your ego stroked, I'm sure I can get Natalie in bankruptcy to make heart eyes."
"I don't want Natalie in bankruptcy."
There's an implication hanging in those words. Her eyes widen, probably from shock over the speed of the freight train racing circles in her chest. She recovers, because that doesn't mean he wants her. "We both know you kept me around to complement your good looks. We're both attractive. Since you seem to be craving fuel for your arrogance."
He rolls his eyes, silence resettling. His attention focuses on his fingers spinning the bottom of his glass.
She tries to keep her knees steady, awareness of how close they're sitting, and how if her legs widen a hair her bare knee will brush against his.
"I should've never gone to Stu." His words come out in a rush, as if they'd been locked up for so long they needed to barrel out.
Her lips part, trying to even the breaths she needs to remind herself to stay concious.
"I guess I just..." He shakes his head, seeming unsatisfied with his direction. "A part of me hoped you'd quickly turn him down. And that would've decided for me."
"How would that have fixed it?" she asks, confused.
His fingers still on his glass. "I could've said I tried," he meets her eyes, "and she would've made the decision for me."
"Passive life decisions?" she offers.
It's pathetic, which is probably why he doesn't respond.
"I have to say, I had no idea you were interested in her." She swallows down the admission with a sip of wine.
He sighs. "Neither did I."
She draws back, brow tightening in confusion.
His fingers tap an erratic beat on the table. "You remember when you told me you wanted more?"
"When I asked to be named partner?"
He shakes his head. "Before that. That night. When you asked me about The Donna patent issue."
She pulls in a breath, and bites her lip. "I remember."
His expression settles, waiting for her to register his meaning.
"Because I said I wanted more?"
He gives her a nod.
"You were afraid I might quit," she clarifies.
"No, that I might lose you. Whatever more meant."
The words stick somewhere inside her, held up only by wet glue ready to slip off and only leave behind a mess. "Why did that equal going to Paula?" she asks, even though she's afraid of the answer.
"Because I guess I panicked, and she was who I was used to panicking with."
"Most people make an appointment," she teases, the implication edged but somehow light.
"Hindsight." He shrugs with a frown, downing the rest of his wine.
"This is why you should come to me with these things. I could've warned you that would end badly."
Words are lingering again. Perhaps because the ones they'd spoken kept getting too close.
The fact that she kept being the reason setting off his bad decisions flipped over in her mind, until the explanations are so overdone she can't make them usable anymore. She's left with knowing she's partially responsible, but not sure why. "I don't want you to keep worrying about losing me, Harvey. Our relationship may change, but we'll always figure out how to find our way back to each other."
The words spill out before she can reshape them. There's a realness to them. A prickly truth. Stuck between them all thorny-edged, making vines with all of their rooted meanings.
"I should...we should get to bed." She picks up the glasses and bottle with a slight tremor in her hands.
He stands with her, taking the wine from her, and setting it down on the counter. They're facing each other, and she can't seem to move her brain fast enough to process. He's taking the glasses from her hand she'd forgotten she was still holding, managing that detail too as he sets them down with a cling. They're too close for her to think, yet not close enough for a building urge inside her.
There's a softness to him now, and it makes her ache. Like he's peeling back layers she's been trying to cover up, opening up uncomfortable old wounds.
"Are you going to be okay without Rachel?" he asks gently.
She shakes her head. "Not really. Are you? With Mike?"
"No," he states with a finality. "I'm probably going to get into a lot more shit than I want to admit would've been better with him here."
She wants to reach for him, but forces her hands in place like she's spent years doing.
"Maybe we can find new ways to help each other through it." His hand reaches for hers, squeezing.
He's at the bed and climbing in before she realizes he's let go, and she's still frozen in place.
She takes the empty spot closest to the window, facing away from him because of the want growing so quickly it may consume her whole.
This isn't about sex alone. In the process of peeling layers away from their issues, she's needing to erase them all with him. Somehow tonight they'd bridged something, but at the same time created a chasm all at once. The vastness feels like a growing tidal wave and she's never owned a board to figure out how to ride it out.
Despite the turmoil, her body is on the drifting edge of consciousness, drained for too many steps beyond the edge. She fades in and out in restless slumber, dreams taking over her troubled thoughts.
Harvey kisses her in front of the elevator bay. But the instant their lips touch, the firm's name fades off the wall and he disappears. She goes to find him, or even Louis, but everything has vanished from the firm. Empty offices and bare walls. Even the views out the windows are just a blinding glow. No New York skyline, no towering over the world's greatest city. She frantically searches, turning every corner and investigating all available space.
Finally she sees Rachel. In the distance. She's wearing her wedding dress. Somehow Donna can feel her. It's like they've become the same person while maintaining two sides of themselves. Rachel is shining love, reaching all corners in the firm. The feeling is so brilliant they begin to cry.
Then the Rachel side begins pulling away. Flying backwards like a bad seventies Sci-Fi special effect but even with the cheesy CGI, it doesn't break the desperation to make the action stop. Suddenly, Rachel's out through the window of Harvey's old office. Body shrinking the further it flies into the clouds. Donna's only able to watch in horror from Harvey's old domain, far off into the distance. There, but growing dimmer until she's nothing but a speck.
Mike is suddenly in front of her, his eyes narrowed and hard. "You did this." But the voice that comes out, isn't his. It's Harvey's.
She wakes with her body shaking in sobs, her emotions so strong it takes her a minute to re-orientate. Tears have formed but only started to spill, her body unsettled in confusion. The sense of loss mixed with a smorgasbord of fears leaving her jolted. She tries to even her breaths, keeping sobs inside so she doesn't wake him.
He jostles. She stills further. He's moving next her her, then suddenly is grabbing her hand. Nothing is said, but his linked fingers and brushing thumb help settle the way her heart is pounding.
He pulls her hand, coaxing her to turn. They're on their sides, half a foot apart, concern on his face and wetness surrounding her eyes, a panic still setting a rhythm in her chest. The corners of his lips pull down, a certainty set in his eyes. It's a silent version of one of those demands he gives. Let me take care of this.
Suddenly he pulls her in close. Her head tucks into his chin, her nose and mouth against the bare skin of his throat that smells like woody aftershave and him. His upper leg hooks hers to pull them even closer. She loses herself in it. More than she had when he was behind her earlier. His arms feel so comforting, so right it's like he's taken every single trouble she'd been carrying and plucked them from her shoulders one by one, and tossed them aside until he was carrying only her. They're home, and all alone except for each other.
For the first time she can remember in years, she let's everything go with him. All empties out. Fear. Reservation. Pain. She can almost sense an exchange from him too. Sharing and combining; accepting and giving in.
They stay that way until the race inside has subsided, and when she finally pulls back, the thin light of the room exposes the most regretful and raw expression she's ever seen from him. Her heart lurches, leaving an empty wound where it's home was left behind. Fingers brush hair from her face, while his thumb from his other hand wipes tears. His focus on her is so intense heat rises to her face.
This is too intimate for them. No barriers, at least not the unbreakable ones.
"What are we doing?" She asks.
His mouth moves and he swallows, gaze tracing her face. "We're comforting each other."
"We don't..." she starts to look away but his thumb catches her chin.
"Why were you so upset?"
"It was nothing. Just a bad dream."
"About Mike and Rachel?"
Pillow talk? But his leg is hooked behind hers, with fingers tangled in her hair, so who's keeping track of screwed up boundaries anyway? "Yes. And the firm."
He acknowledges with a soft nod, eyes still not leaving her face.
I'm trying. That's what he'd said to her. And it hurts to admit she feels its truth because losing what it means to her could rip her apart. But she knows him. How hard this is for him. She forces herself to try too. "And the kiss." She pauses, bracing herself for his response.
His bottom lip parts in the slightest way, and then he waits. No stopping her from elaborating. No protests. No halting further conversation with a Donna.
"It was all over the place and bizarre. Then your voice told me I had caused it. That I was responsible."
A crease forms at his brow and he sighs, body tensing while it shifts. He stares at her, the way he does before he's deciding his next move.
"Donna, I need to ask you something. And I need you to be honest when you answer."
She swallows, feeling like she's about to fall headfirst into icy waters.
"Did you really not feel anything?"
Despite the vagueness, she knows what he's asking. His question carries so much defeat, so much heavy turmoil she almost can't weather how raw this feels. She breaks their gaze.
"Please, Donna. Tell me. Don't hide."
She complies, not looking away because somehow her feelings for this man makes her want to give this to him. But not the rest. "I don't feel like I can answer that after the way you reacted." Because she’d promised him they'd never be here again. Because holding it in for so long has made it stick extra tight.
His lips press together, a fidgeting irritation about him. "Fine. I did."
"Physically," she amends.
"No. I mean yes. But I couldn't..." His cheek pulls in, like he's fighting an admission. Then a hardness sets. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since you did it." There's an air of annoyance in his admission that's so him it almost makes her giggle.
Something inside soars, long wedged in so tightly it almost carries her away when it breaks free.
"So. Can I try it again and help you figure it out?" he demands.
She thinks she finds it in herself to nod, but her focus is too distracted by his tongue darting over his lips before they press into hers. The kiss is less desperate than hers had been, but quickly turns more sensual. Tongue coaxing her lips to part, mouths tasting of shared wine and hints of champagne. An exchange passes between them, a determination to drag their hidden wants and tangle them together. He sucks in a breath before going deeper, searching her mouth. His palm slips down her arm to splay at her lower back, trying to pull them more flush. She hooks her leg over his, and he groans, his want pressing into her thigh.
She needs him. More intensely than she's ever needed him before. Not his law expertise. Not his distant companionship. His physicality. His strength rolled over pain, his intensity that seems to focus sharpest on her.
A whimper escapes when his mouth is hot against her neck, causing a building spin of her own to hit her belly. She reaches under his T-shirt, the new freedom making her greedy with desire to feel his naked skin.
He pulls his head back. "Feeling anything?" he teases, his own voice breathless and rough.
"Annoyed that you stopped." She tries to reposition her leg over his, attempting to get him closer.
He hooks a hand behind her thigh and pulls them upright, coaxing her legs around his body. He pulls her arms to willingly hook around his neck and she shifts herself until he hits against where she needs him most.
"Fuck Donna." Hungry eyes go to her lips were his mouth returns. He rests hands on her hips, coaxing her closer. "I want you."
She raises a brow. "I can tell." She grinds against him, aware of how the looseness of the bottoms on her and the opening on him could make this happen quickly.
He groans before sucking her lower lip, dragging teeth and soothing with his tongue. Fingers tangle in her hair to tilt her head. He loses himself in her mouth, causing tingles and weakness over stolen control in response to her cheeky reply.
He pulls back suddenly, chest heaving as he trails his gaze chest to face. His fingers hook under the T-shirt he'd given her, pealing it up over her head as her chest spills out. His eyes hood, trailing back to her face. A hand slips down her hair. "You're beautiful tonight."
"Just tonight?" She chances, helping him pull off his shirt.
"No. You have no idea what you do to me."
Freed hands find the bare skin of her back, caressing her spine then pulling her against him, nipples pressing into the warm strength of his chest. She alternates fingernail and fingertip paths over the shifting muscles of his back. Lips find her neck, nipping and smoothing warm tongue over her collarbone.
Her fingers tug into his hair, his mouth venturing lower and pulling in a nipple. She wants this, all of this. But as tonight had taught her, time is an always shifting chase, and she doesn't want to wait for what they've finally caught. "Harvey?"
He raises up to read her, the exchange passing between the emotional press of her lips.
It's time. She needs him. They need each other.
His face suddenly changes. "Shit. I didn't come prepared for this. Are you...?"
"I'm covered." Thank god for auto-refill birth control. "If everything is...?"
He confirms with a nod, an endearing nervousness about him she hasn't seen for a long time. It reminds her of how long they've been side-by-side. Of how much trust resides between them.
Their mouths fuse again, this time hot and purposeful. He's pulling her closer with each slip of his tongue against hers, mimicking what they've both held back from for so long. Lust grips her, brewing low in her belly and spreading into her legs.
He supports her back while he eases her off his lap, leaning her against the mattress. Fingers hook under the waist of her bottoms, which she assists in removal by lifting her hips. He takes her in, sweeping his eyes over bare and open skin. Desire eclipses in his eyes, the darkness in them setting off long held in emotions.
Eyes zero in between her legs, his fingertips teasing her slit before dipping between them. She can feel she's already embarrassingly slick. Her hips keen when a thumb brushes her clit. He's focused on her facial response, ocular moth to her climbing internal flame. A finger slips inside, his eyes hooding. "God you're ready."
"More than."
His head hovers between her legs. "May I?" he asks with a smirk.
"Later, Harvey. We've waited too long already." As much as she wants the expertise of his lips and tongue, she needs him close. With her in every form, them against the rest in the most undeniable way.
He swallows and nods, slipping off the bed to remove his own boxers.
There's something glorious seeing all of him. They'd been together through many kinds of triumph and tension. None were this terrifying, none were risking as much as they were about to. She pulls in a shaky breath, trying to settle the building nerves.
He climbs over her, her legs falling apart to accept him. They kiss, softer this time. Reassuring. When they separate, she sees the emotion has built in his eyes too.
She helps him adjust positioning. And then they join. Despite her readiness, she almost rethinks cutting back their foreplay when he pierces inside. He groans against her, a quick intake a breath pulling in. The sharp ache from the intrusion is welcomed but shocking.
"Okay?" He asks.
"It's been a while," she admits. "Just start slow."
He kisses her neck while inching deeper. Her moans fill them room, his own getting swallowed against her neck in each advance. She coaxes his speed as she adjusts, fingers gripping his back, and legs wrapping around him in encouragement.
Her body had begun responding faster and stronger sometime after the age of 40, but she feels the building pressure climbing alongside his speed in record time. He's devouring her neck now, taking breaks to alternate nipples, and sporadic visits to her lips. She swears she could come from the ministrations against her neck alone. The things he could do with his mouth had not been forgotten but hard to mentally experience to the fullest.
He reaches a hand down to assist in her climb. He's good at this, better than most at setting a pace with his multitasking. Her orgasm soon hits hard and quick, an overwhelming grip down low, making the world and any awareness fade behind blurry stars. He speed has slowed a touch as she subsides, watching her with a pleased curve of his mouth. A shyness takes over, not used to him being the one to witness her uncontrolled display.
"Your turn," she says with a breathlessness, her legs still shaking. His eyes shut at the permission his thrusts becoming deeper in her now aching core. She focuses on him now, nails dragging into his hair and down his back, head raising up to suck at his shoulders and neck. She lifts hips to meet each thrust.
His movements grow erratic. Sweat is appearing in beads all over his upper body. Then, he loses himself in her. Groaning, grunting, eyes tightly shut.
She's seen him at his most vulnerable. Controlled but lost, and barely holding the mask in place. This is all of him letting go. Brow fully drawn in, flushed face, and throbbing temples. He's completely undone with them having used each other in the ultimate comfort.
She feels euphoric. Consummated. Like something long awaited had finally arrived. They'd taken each others pain, the reverberation in the connection as instinctual as push and pull. Funny how they'd always thought the latter was easier.
His body is hot and heavy against hers as he rests, spent and still inside her. Soon he falls to the side and starts to get up.
She grabs his hand, brow knitted together.
He flashes a reassuring smile. "Just getting something to clean up." He returns quickly with a wet washcloth, taking pleased interest as he uses care with it between her legs.
He settles next to her, immediately pulling her to spoon against his side. She rests her head against his chest, lips and hands taking advantage of the newfound freedom to explore. Tongue slides against stubble on his chin, taking turns nipping and biting against the coarse skin. Her hands map various destinations. Sinews and valleys, soft and warmth against strength. The need pulls to reintroduce herself to every part of him, knowing how empty she'd feel living without it again.
A kiss presses to the top of her head. "You know what I just realized?"
"What?"
"Mike and Rachel are going to be insufferable when they find out about this."
Her eyes widen. "Oh god. You're right. Rachel's going to be giddy. Practically gleeful. I'm going to have to answer some intimate questions."
"Exactly how intimate?"
She grins the way his body tightens. "Trust me. You don't want to know."
"Do I...measure up?" he asks, and she swears she hears a hint of amusement buried behind the question, making her almost wonder if he knows more than she realizes.
She thinks beyond his satisfying size, focusing more on the expertise of his mouth and tongue. "I'm...going to need some more samples to get an accurate assessment."
"How nice for you," he says with a petulant annoyance. "I'm just going to get fucking roasted."
"If you can't take it I can tell Rachel you need him to go easy on you."
"Seriously?" He pulls out from under her, a danger brewing behind his eyes as he props himself on an elbow. "You're wanting me, to prove how useful I can be, so you can brag to your BFF. All while Mike, his new wife, and my new girlfriend all mock me. Why am I the one getting all the shit?"
Her eyes go wide. "Calm down. You know I can't resist poking fun at you."
His expression shifts, a grin growing wide as he waggles his brow, biting his lip and darting his eyes low. "I'm the one who now does the poking." He slips a hand down, causing a gasp when he finds her center. He continues his play, a laziness in it, their conversation almost slipping from her mind.
"Harvey?" she manages between staggered breaths.
"What?" he slows his fingers, watching her face.
"Girlfriend?"
He tilts his head. "After as long as we waited? As you know, I don't let go of you well." He curves his fingers for a final time, her dismantling in gentler waves than the first go round. The fingers of his free hand smooth her hair, then trace her cheeks while she settles. He pulls his other hand away, fingers slipping between his lips while watching her.
She smiles shyly, feeling girlish and heady with romance in an embarrassing way she can't fully temper. A thought crosses her mind. "Maybe that's one good thing about them leaving. We won't see their reactions. And cell phones are easy to turn off."
He stares at her, cogs turning. "Why don't we keep it just for us for awhile."
"Really?"
"We need to figure out our own feelings before we deal with everyone else's over it."
She nods, his use of the word feelings in regards to her still sounding so strange. This feels like a dream-like bubble, one she's not ready to share yet. The newness is theirs, and she's still settling in to let go of doubts. Not to mention figuring out this new and improved communication. "So. No regrets?" she chances.
His mouth opens and closes, mischief behind his lips. "Besides wishing I could watch the dress fell off of you earlier?"
"I could put it back on."
A finger catches her chin, as he leans in to press a kiss to her lips. "Not a chance. I'm not letting you get dressed for as long as I can manage."
"We're really doing this," she states, realizing how shocking the reality still feels.
"Donna. We should've done this a long time ago."
She presses her head back deeper into the pillow, still a whirlwind of nerves and unanswered questions.
He leans over her, hovering just above her face with a seriousness. "So, just so we're clear. Because I don't want you backtracking. You're feeling something, right?"
Emotions run high after the wedding, and Donna and Harvey struggle to find each other, making comfort take pain's place. M in second chapter to come. Two-shot. Post 716.
Harvey is the most free she's ever seen him on the dance floor. He's liquid and lively, without airs or propriety. Something must've freed inside him, like a rope's loop suddenly come undone and he's let go of trying to keep it tied.
Several possibilities could be the culprit for the shift. Losing the firm's name once again, this time to Zane, or something that happened while working with Jessica she'd yet to sniff out. Or maybe it was the wedding itself, coupled with the heartbreaking news of their best friends' departure, which she's sure Mike has now told him about. She plans to process that news herself with copious tears when she's alone, along with a similar amount of wine.
Then the last handful of weeks hit her again, and she wonders if what's happening is a combination of all the stress from everything they've faced the last few months in the firm and personally.
They'd all grown weary, and maybe now he just needs to let loose. She just never expected it to be with her. Touching her. Moving his body with her. Losing the evening with her.
The feeling is as if he's grabbed her by the hand and wrapped her tight, jumping out of a plane. They're falling and she's trusting he's checked their parachute pack, which is unsettling since preparation is usually her domain. Somehow she knows wherever this freefall is leading they'll land safe. Because she always jumps with him. Without thought or care, but always faith.
They don't touch the fear in those hours of flying on their feet. They glide. They immerse. They trust because they're together.
"You know?" he asks cryptically at one point, his breathing near her ear being nearly the only thing she can focus on.
"Yeah."
That's all they touch on the subject, letting their pent up physical touch speak the rest.
And then the night begins to end, and the music stops. She's left with her heart in the air and her feet unsteady on the ground due to champagne and intimate steps. The motion between them feels easy and reassured, an exhilaration kind of like the time they don't talk about. As long as they kept moving and touching, the inevitable reality change didn't have to come.
The moment their dancing ends isn't the hardest of the night. The pair of colleagues that are yet another thing that connect her with Harvey- their supports, their right hands, the only two that come close to understanding the depths of what her and Harvey hide from everyone else, will be gone. The resection that comes with Rachel and Mike's resignations makes their firm feel half as whole, even though two is on paper a small percentage.
The couple approach them, both emotionally breathless. Mike is beaming and Rachel is all soft smile and barely unspilled tears.
Harvey lets go of her hand, reminding her he used to not hold it.
They trade pleasantries about the wedding, then physical ones as well. Harvey with Rachel and her with Mike. The most important is saved for last.
Her female BFF is alone with her now, close enough she could beg her not to go. The younger woman had answers to love figured out that Donna never might. She needs her.
Rachel glances to their right at the grinning VIP-to-them men, a sheepish smile with an arched brow. "So, dancing, huh?"
Donna pulls in a reluctant breath. "Like I could be a wallflower."
"Mike and I have never seen him like that."
"Wedding of his best friend," she offers as an easy explanation, not sure if it fits even to herself.
"No, Donna. Not only that."
Donna tilts her head, meeting her friend's perceptive eyes. Her own solid, yet gentle. "He's happy for you both, Rach."
"He's happy with you. Even with the news of us leaving."
Donna shakes her head, chancing a glance to the man responsible for the discussion before readying her protest.
Rachel grabs her hand and stops her with a squeeze. "You can't wait forever." There's more than a gentle push to her words this time. This is a final desperate plea.
"You're just caught up in the romance of your night with Mike. Forget about me and Harvey and focus on the impending wedding night." Donna's mouth bends in a smirk and brow raise, a deflective mask as the shield.
Rachel grins, a slight blush in her cheeks. "Then the best wedding gift you could leave us with is knowing our best friends aren't staying alone out of fear. You're going to need each other."
Using them leaving is a low blow, but effective. "Don't worry about us, we'll do what we always do."
"Exactly my fear." There's a scold in Rachel's voice that's surprising. "I'm not trying to tell you how to live, but I love you, Donna. And I'm worried if you don't stop hiding from your feelings, you'll never get what I know you both want."
How can Rachel know, when she isn't even sure herself? Donna needs to break the emotion stinging her, pulling her under like a jellyfish with a vendetta. "If you're trying to Donna me, you've done a fair job, but you have more training before I can say you've mastered it. When did you get so bold?"
Rachel chokes back a cross between a laugh and a sob. "You taught me well." Something passes with Rachel's words, an admittance for what they'd been for each other. The conversation rests on the emotion.
Donna eventually adds, "Of course you're not going to be around, so my in person teachings will have to be virtual."
Mutual shaky breaths and swelling emotions return, taking Donna to a different feeling of uncertain footing.
"I don't know how I'll live without you all." Rachel wraps arms around Donna's shoulders for yet another time that day. "You could probably talk me out of this."
Rachel is lying, but even if she isn't, and even if Donna wants nothing more than to use the perfect arguments for staying, their hearts are drawn to a new future, and Donna never stands in the way of someone finding it. "Probably. But instead I'm going to tell you there are Skype video calls, non-stop flights, and plenty of law firm salaries for tickets."
Rachel's chest rises and falls.
"You and Mike will make this okay for each other," Donna says.
They exchange nods, emotions spilling because there aren't any words that will make the journey any closer, or the loss any less profound.
"So. Dancing, huh?" Mike teases as he leans over the bar, downing a glass of water.
"Is where people move their feet in time to music. Something I saw you struggling with."
Mike doesn't flinch at the jab, obviously heading somewhere Harvey knows he doesn't want him to go.
"You still not ready?" Mike presses.
Why the hell does it always come back to her? "Do you get a kickback if we book the wedding today?"
Mike's mouth bends in a frown. "I've never seen you like that before."
"Drunk?"
"Enjoying yourself. Laughing. Trying those goofy moves you're calling dancing."
Harvey shoots him an annoyed glare, because his counter arguments suddenly feel tired and weak.
"I've also never seen you back down from something you wanted."
Harvey shifts his eyes to Rachel and Donna. Her tears hitting somewhere raw that's numb unless she's involved.
"Except her," Mike finishes.
Harvey empties a final glass of champagne. "You know it rains all the time in Seattle, right? You won't be able to ride your bike."
Mike shrugs. "It's the Pacific Northwest. They're energy conscious. Everyone's going to be riding bikes."
"Rachel will have to drive you to work in your new Prius. I hope you're okay with driving 50 miles per hour on highways and wearing chinos to depositions."
"Don't be jealous. I can ship you comfier clothes when you check into the nursing home in a few years."
Harvey grunts back a laugh. "Always with the old man jokes. Do you ever have new material?" Their tone is light but Harvey may as well be holding their impending vehicle purchase on his shoulders with the heaviness he feels.
The air matches the weight, so much left unsaid. Not that the words could ever sort it out.
"I'm sorry, Harvey," Mike says, a frown forming.
Harvey shakes his head, guilt filling him like a glass running over. "You shouldn't be sorry, Mike. We had a great run. You deserve to move on."
"Yeah, but I could never have become this without you."
Harvey tightens his jaw, swallowing as if the gesture could stop the throbbing in his temple. "No. You couldn't," he says with a hairline choke, knowing he is talking as much about mentor as mentee. His head becomes all pressure with nowhere to release. Everything held in and barely under control. He chances a glance to his pressure release. All red and grace like she absorbs his heat and wears it in beauty.
Words linger as Rachel links an arm through Mike's, their more impressive female counterparts returning.
Louis joins them when they're all hugging. He's blubbering enough ugly tears for the five of them and somehow the moment is fitting. He now has Sheila after all, who has already began the task of calming Louis's erratic storm. Donna's glad he has someone; it's not a secretarial responsibility anymore.
Mike stands straighter. "We wanted more than anything to say thank you to you all before we go. Each of you has helped us get here and we could never..." Mike's words break off, emotion stealing them.
Rachel takes his hand, taking lead. "We could never have gotten here without you." Her voice breaks too, tears freely flowing now, but she continues. "We'll never forget it. We love you all. And you're forever a part of our new family."
They're now saying their final goodbyes, and it's like a stopwatch has sped up. Before Donna can figure out how to slow it they're fading away. In the end she's left side-by-side with her constant stoic-yet-crumbled-on-the-inside partner in complexity.
"You okay?" he manages, not taking his eyes from Mike and Rachel's car growing dimmer in the night.
She wipes at her cheeks, thankful for long-term lash extensions and waterproof mascara. "Just exhausted. I better get my things and call a cab."
"It's after midnight."
She stops, turning back. "You think out of the two of us, I'm the one needing reminding of the time?"
His head bends. "You got me that room. You could stay."
She's not sure how to protest without implying what's silently hanging between them. "I don't have any of my things anyway."
"I've got things you could use in my suitcase."
She opens her mouth to let out all the quickly building protests.
He stops her. "Donna, I got up at 4AM New York time, worked all day dealing with Jessica, got on a flight in Chicago, and headed straight here. I have no doubts you're just as tired pulling off everything you did. It's over an hour drive back to the city and I'm not going to sleep well sending you off alone. Can we get over the goddamn logistics of beds and toothbrushes so we can both rest?"
He's obviously beyond weary, just as anyone would expect under the circumstances they've recently faced. But it's not toiletries and surfaces that make her waver. It's the undercurrent of recent emotion ready to pick her off her feet and drop her to uncharted places.
There's a lost piece to his request, an option both know exists at the check-in desk to the very hotel. Separate spaces and safe ground by way of a plastic key card and American Express.
She plays the altered game. "Okay."
He does a single nod. And she follows him through the hotel lobby, stopping only to pick up her coat and purse. Their disconnection along the way is almost the essence of his presence to outsiders. Closed off. No one would know the entrenched ties except for her fellow intuitive's that can read their hidden synergy.
They ride alone on the elevator in charged silence.
Climbing floors.
5-6-7-8-9-10
She has no idea what to make of his body language at the moment, and it's unsettling. His recent all over her with smiles and hands has somehow set something off-center between them. A building storm she doesn't know how to prepare for rests behind those bronze eyes.
13. The doors open. The number is fitting.
She wobbles getting off. Exhaustion, dancing, and all-day-heels taking their toll.
"Do you need me to carry you?" He grabs her elbow to steady her, mouth pressing together in a smirk.
"Not with as drunk as you were tonight." She wants to ease the tension that's settled between them.
"I'll have you know I had only three glasses of champagne all night."
They arrive. 1306.
"You could've fooled me with that dancing," she dares, poking a stick at the change in him.
He slides the key in. "I seem to remember I had a partner, and you're the one wobbly." He opens the door.
She steps in a few feet, setting her things down just inside. "It's these damn heels, and you keeping me moving all night."
The room is spacious with an extra large bed in the center. A stocked minibar and snacks sit in a small kitchen, with a large cut out with shutters opening up to a large jetted tub in the restroom. It isn't anything presidential, just the best she could manage last-minute.
When she looks at him he's watching her with an odd focus. "So hurry up and take them off." He stares somewhere low on her dress slit.
Her lips part at the demand, the suggestiveness hard to dismiss. She watches him closely as she unhooks the straps and slips them off, dropping her down a few inches. They get tossed to the side of a dresser.
He breaks his eyes from her, lifting his suitcase to a folding rack. He then pulls out a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, setting them on the dresser beside him along with a packaged toothbrush on top. "From the hotel in Chicago," he explains.
She sucks in a bottom lip, the taste of her lipstick long gone. "Thanks for this. And for... making the night easier to get through."
"Sure." He smiles, but then the expression fades, an obvious thought brewing. "Did you know about them leaving when you called?"
"I did," she answers carefully. "But Mike wanted to be the one to tell you."
He nods but she can see he's not thrilled with her response.
She doesn't have time or energy to carefully pry it out of him to offset damage. "We both know there's something more you want to say and we're both exhausted. So just do."
He measures her for a moment, then looks away and pulls his tie loose, folding it with care and setting it on the dresser. He undoes his top button and frowns. "Alright. If for some reason I hadn't been able to make it back, would you have told me after they were gone?"
Donna drops her gaze. "I don't know what he would've done."
"I said you, Donna. You never used to keep these things from me."
"Some things aren't the same," she offers vaguely.
He stands a little straighter. "So this was intentional, to put distance between us?"
"What? No, of course not." For some reason she senses he's picking a fight with her. Their compass has suddenly gone haywire and he seems to be the cause and she can't keep up with intention. "Why even have me come here if you're upset with me?"
"Because I..." He slumps in front of her, gaze and focus slipping down, followed by expression.
Suddenly her usual guards have grown as tired as she has, crumbled with cracks fracturing deeper in the grit. The coming tidal wave hits now that they're alone and she's unprepared. She pushes out a breath, body bending with it as a scold for standing in front of him doing this.
She instantly regrets not going back to her place, letting loneliness and tears peel out until she could put on a fresh face and new dress and pretend she's coping well. That's how Harvey liked her anyway. A pristine pillar against his rod-straight wall.
He can't handle her like this. He never could. He does harshness and strength and she knows he's drained of both with her. She pushes past her feelings, forcing herself to Donna up. "Let's just stop here. We both know you don't want to stand here and talk about feelings."
"Goddammit, Donna. I'm trying! I'm not good at this. But you know damn well if there's anyone I'd want to go through this with, it's you."
"How can I know that?" she demands, the frantic feeling in her chest making her as unsteady as she was before. "I don't even know what this is."
"How can you not know?"
She lets out a heavy sigh, looking to the window. "Two weeks ago you were ready to throw away our... whatever it is we are for someone you'd been dating less than three months."
He stands a little straighter. "Which I instantly fixed by ending it."
"After I was gone." She pauses. Perhaps thinking for the past few weeks they could avoid this argument had been foolish. "Maybe loyalty only applies when it affects you."
His jaw tenses, a sardonic nod telling her the comment hit hard. "Back to normal? Guess that was a lie."
She throws her hands up. "Trying to piece together what we lost doesn't mean I wasn't hurt." She swallows then. It hadn't been a lie, not really. She'd spent a career letting her feelings slide in order to maintain their blurred status.
"What you want me to say? That's the worst thing I can imagine doing but I panicked. I was trying to make things work. Weren't you forced into a similar situation once? With that guy?"
She heaves a sigh. Incredulous. "That was after dating for six months! And I didn't hesitate choosing you when he gave me the ultimatum."
"I also didn't barge into your relationship and kiss you."
His responses had suddenly become infuriatingly calm. Like she'd been the one to bring them here. Like she's the over-reactor and he's the sensible bystander. She wasn't letting him get away with that bullshit.
"No. You just monopolized every other area of my life."
"Why?"
She ignores the question, not even sure what he's asking or if she truly wants the answer revealed. "You know what? You're right, Harvey. I'm the one that screwed this up. Maybe you should have just let me remain pushed off to Stu."
"You were never... I didn't say that."
"You did! That day in your office. I made one emotionally fueled slip up with you in twelve years, and maybe it was one too many." She's past this. Passing him she reaches for the clothes on the dresser to get them out of whatever they've stumbled into.
Suddenly he's behind her, hands resting against her upper arms. "Donna. I'm sorry."
Goosebumps form as his fingertips lightly brush her skin.
He's leaning toward her, which she only knows because of the breath against her cheek. "Why did you let me monopolize every other area of your life?"
"I..." She can't help the lean into him, ignoring the boundary between them they keep breaking and trying to rebuild. They aren't boss and secretary anymore. And at the moment they're not even managing partner and his favorite COO. They are best friends yes, but most of all they are something they haven't been in a long time.
A man and a woman, trying to detangle the spiraling feelings between them.
When she hits against his chest his arms wrap around her from behind. Securing her. Catching her breath. She lets out a whimper, unable to lock it back. He's leaning into her, a slight rock in his embrace. She could feel his hot breath against her temple, an arm around both her chest and waist. She allows herself to relax into him. This feels about more than Mike and Rachel, about more than the previous weeks' complicated mess between them, but she can't dare ask. The timer for avoiding the far intimate long runs out in their quiet.
She feels his arm start to slip away, smoothing down hair as he does that sticks to his stubbled face.
Then his lips brush her skin.
At the place where her shoulder and neck meet. She chills again, feeling his warm mouth moving against her skin, hands again brushing down her bare arms. Her eyes close at the sensation. A finger traces down the spaghetti strap of her dress, the movement charging bare skin.
"H-H-Harvey?"
He pulls away and she spins around. His eyes bore into hers, his expression one she knows but can't place. "I'm sorry too, Harvey. About not telling you about Mike. About Paula. About kiss-"
"Don't." He cuts her off, swallowing. The emotion behind the action is more than she can manage. She quickly grabs the items he laid out and escapes behind the bathroom door. Her back meets the surface.
A kiss. An opened mouth kiss against her skin.
The dancing. The smiling. The hand-holding. The lingering looks. And the way he'd touched her just now. The doubts slip away and form the panic beating in her chest. And maybe it's drunkenness, or losing Mike, or being lonely and wanting to use her in the way she'd begun to write the invitation for when their lips crashed.
She's arrived with him. And she doesn't know how to let go.
Just wanted to say that I turned off anonymous for a while because I really don’t want to get sent negative comments or thoughts about the finale. I personally loved all the darvey we got and I’m in a happy bubble with the dance :) I may turn it back on in a couple of days or week. Also, yes, I will write some post episode/other fics. Can’t say when, though. I still have exams and I’m in the middle of moving. But stay tuned this summer.... -ali
ps: if you do have a question, feel free to send. You can always lmk if you don’t want your ask published and I won’t.
i said i was gonna tax everyone who doubted me when i said they were gonna bone in this finale and now im the one whos gonna have to pay restitution to all ya’ll lmao but tbh ive been pretty convinced we’d get pretty much what we got since 5 days ago so im withholding interest - maria
I am not ready for the final. All 7b really did was distract us from the fact meghan and Patrick won't be coming back 😞😞😞 and I am not ready for them to leave😭
SAME it’s going to be emotional af for sure… I’m just holding onto the fact that they’re giving Mike and Rachel a proper “ending” (though they’ve said Patrick can come back at some point and I would expect so). As far as characters leaving shows for a variety of reasons, at least they’re not getting killed off, and there weren’t any behind the scenes drama that made this happen. Doesn’t make them leaving any easier (I’m gonna be a mess lmao) but… it helps. -ali
Liked the episode 🙃 Harvey finally emotionally ready. Sacrifice business for the people you care about 😍 both Louis and Harvey have grown so much this season! Even if they don't get together. I want to see this growth and matureness between Donna and Harvey. They can get closer in s08.
YESSSS they’re both ready. They’re all flirty with each other I’m !!!!!!!!!!!!!! -ali
i am telling ya’ll theyre gonna fuck and im gonna tax everyone who didnt believe me - maria
Anyone has any spoilers. If the remaining 3eps any good? Darvey wise. If not I'm not going to bother watching. Already depressed. Don't want to further be depressed with the same crap they pull every season.
Listen- take any and all spoilers with a grain of salt because?? They’re never accurate?? “spoilers” don’t even spoil- they tease. They hype. They’re never what they seem. So… even if I did know of any spoilers- which I don’t- I wouldn’t take them to mean anything at fucking all… it’s unfair to Korsh, to the cast, to the crew etc. for people to stop watching a show because of a “SPOILER”. Or an interview.
I can’t tell you what to do, but I would just watch. You can’t give up on a show based on word of mouth even from people who’ve seen the episode. It’s not accurate. It’s not fair. If you watch these episodes and don’t like them… fine you can stop watching, I won’t stop you. But I would give it a chance. Because honestly what’s the point in watching anything ever if you’re going to let interviews and spoilers dictate everything? -ali
What do you think about Sarah's interview? My expectations are very low now😶
I don’t think it’s ever a bad idea to go into things with low expectations and then be pleasantly surprised… so I won’t discourage any thoughts. And the only thing I’ll say about that interview is: TV guide sucks- in general with the “journalists” having to ask dumb questions to bait people. Sarah cannot divulge actual information. She’s told what she can and cannot say, so it’s not like she can confirm or deny if darvey are happening. So… anything is game. I just know I’ll be watching Suits forever -ali
theyre gonna FUCK in this finale. mark my words -maria
I think often these interviews are to intentionally mislead. Also, the coming eps were filmed months ago, and Sarah’s likely doing this all on reflection and hazy memory. She’s not in the same place as the fans are right now, as far as in the story or with shipping expectations, and would’ve been coached on what she could and couldn’t reveal which really affects her answers. I actually think she gave quite a bit of hope, but as I find almost all interviews, the interpretation is ambiguous. I think going into the next eps with simple expectations is smart, knowing that we could walk away with MORE or with much less than we wanted. -alternateshadesofblue/kate
She was asked questions she wasn’t allowed to answer directly. Personally I loved her responses, Sarah would make a wicked lawyer. I haven’t been part of the fandom for that long, but I think it’s clear that Korsh always follows through, and I’m going to trust him. And I’m with Maria, Darvey is going to happen during the two-hour finale. My gut says either at the end of 15 or the beginning of 16. Season 7 has been hard to watch at times, but given how much of it was dedicated to the love triangle, there’s hope in my opinion. I think of Paula as the practice girlfriend. Harvey tried really hard to make the relationship work - he has grown as a character, and he should have more confidence in his ability to be a good partner to The One *wink*. Hopefully he’ll take a long hard look at the situation he was in - Paula asked him to give up someone important to him to make her happy, while Donna actually gave up nearly everything important to her because she thought it would make him happy. That’s real love, folks, no matter how much the lady doth protest. -kate (the other one)
