A/N: Ok. so as usual, I'm the worst. What was supposed to be a short, funny ficlet for friends ended up being this +2000w one-shot so yep, decided to post it here. Nothing extraordinay: just some Darvey loving, fluff and fun on Thanksgiving. You know you can always count on Fantomette to take any weird topic and turn it into a fic/ficlet! To quote someone famous: I'm not apologizing for who I am.
Hope you guys will like this even if it might be slightly OC (but seeing the topic HEY what do you expect?), but I hope that it will, at least, make you smile.
(I dedicate this fic to "Ok. Harvey and Donna..." LOL you guys know who you are.)
"One coffee and a special to go." Harvey Specter sits at the counter and flips through the pages of the New York Times. He always feels at home there, in this little dinner -their dinner.
Harvey and Donna were sharing many things for people who weren't 'together'. Many 'WE'...
Oh! And they held hands the other day.
Just thinking about it makes his stomach flips.
It was ridiculous, really. Since then, he's been daydreaming how it would feel to touch her FOR REAL, like he did with countless women but...Donna wasn't like any other woman.
That's why he couldn't find the courage to take the next step, scared she might say NO.
"Sir?"the woman behind the counter gives him his coffee and puts a brown bag in front of him, pulling him out of his reverie.
He pays and zips his big sweater before taking a sip of warm coffee, much needed after he ran for half an hour. He takes the bag and as he turns around to head to the door there she is, smiling at him.
"Harvey! Hi!"
Donna looks beautiful: skinny jeans and a dark sweater, a cream colored coat covering her shoulders. She has her red hair up in a ponytail. She is wearing flat boots making her shorter than he is, and her whole appearance makes her seem more approachable. Maybe today he would find the courage to tell her he wants HER? Just thinking about this makes him smile because NOPE, not a chance.
"Harvey?" she asks eyebrows raised.
He realizes he's been staring at her, smiling, speechless. When she is sitting behind her desk and he's in his office he can stare at her through glass doors as much as he wants.
Right now? He looks like a complete idiot.
"Ha Sorry, I'm...tired," he offers trying to sound very nonchalant. "I stopped here on my run. I thought you were going at your dad's?"
"Not this year. He is visiting his sister in Florida. I could have gone but…I felt like staying in the city. This year it's just me and a bottle of wine, watching the parade!" She is smiling, doesn't seem too sorry about it.
"What about Mitchell?"
She mentioned him ONCE. The perfect guy who had nothing to do with the practice of Law. It seems he wasn't so perfect after all: leaving his beautiful girlfriend home alone on Thanksgiving day.
"What about him?" she says, looking at Harvey with an amused look on her face.
Why was she making this difficult for him?
"I don't know Donna," he retorts, tilting his head. "Is he cooking for you?"
"Are you jealous of his cooking?"
"What? Why would I be?" He shows her the brown bag in his hands. "I have my Thanksgiving meal right there."
She grins, she's always liked to tease him.
"Harvey, I broke up with him."
[He suddenly feels VERY thankful and happy inside]
"Let me get you one of these then," he says shaking the brown bag and flashing his famous Specter-smile, hoping she won't be able to resist.
"Wait. You REALLY want to watch the parade with me at my place...and then the dog show?" she asks laughing.
He's taken aback for a full ten seconds. Is this really how Donna Paulsen spends her Thanksgiving?
Dog show?
"You like dogs?"
"I play a game...usually with my cousins but I could teach you…"
"I don't know, does it involves removing clothes?" he says flirtatiously realizing right away HE REALLY SAID THAT (abort-abort-abort: she'll cancel the invitation).
She hits him playfully on his arm. "I used to play with my cousins Harvey!"
His heart is beating fast. He's flirting with her and she seems to enjoy it. It's been YEARS since they've done this, as he built his walls up the more and more he fell in love with her.
He orders another special to go and they wait awkwardly standing next to each other.
The whole time he wonders if this counts as a date or not...
Okay, was she going to tell him that she stopped at his place this morning?
That when she saw he wasn't there, her steps led her to their dinner. Not hoping she was going to find him there, but just…
Because.
She woke up craving Harvey Specter, and by having breakfast at their dinner, she hoped it would calm the craving. She hated it, but it was a fact: since he held her hand, his fingers warm around hers, she's been wanting MORE.
So she ended up being that girl, the one who shows up at her "friend's" place hoping to get a Thanksgiving hug. She knows with Harvey, it has to be baby steps or she will scare him away. Gosh he was so complicated!
But she tried, she really tried hard to love someone else. Mitchell was everything a woman could ask for: kind, affectionate, intelligent, hard-working, funny…
So handsome: tall, dark hair, green eyes…
For once, he wasn't one of those boyfriends who gets jealous of her work (or let's be honest here: jealous of her boss). He was understanding. He said he loved that Donna was so dedicated to her work and that he was sure she was the best (see, bonus points for Mitchell again).
Still, she was the one who screwed this up.
She thought something so good, something so perfect could make her forget.
Of course, perfect doesn't mean "perfect for her".
Mitchell's perfection ANNOYED HER.
Meanwhile, Harvey was far from being perfect, but...she had come to like his imperfections.
She tried to let go, she really did. Mitchell was a nice distraction for a while, it almost worked.
...and then it hit her that night Harvey came to her for advice, asking about what to do about Mike's trial. She talked from her heart, she told him how she always had faith in him, she told him he was worthy. When he left, she cried, realizing what had just happened: it wasn't only about Mike. She was in love with him, he should stop being afraid. He's worthy, he should give it try.
Mitchell asked her to move in.
She could only imagine sharing her life with Harvey Specter. She decided she should be honest with herself, finally.
It was him or nothing.
And she broke up with Mitchell.
It is weird how he fits in her apartment. She's in the kitchen, separating the food into plates and she is looking at him. He is in her living room, pouring more scotch into glasses. They already watched the parade, he seemed happy, he laughed a lot, that laugh that reaches his eyes and makes them crinkles. That laugh that makes HER happy…
He looks more relax than usual, wearing sweat pants and a big sweater. He leans backward in the couch and places an arm above his head on the headrest. The National Dog Show is starting and she joins him, handing him his plate.
"We're eating here?" he asks.
"Yep. That show needs all our attention," she replies. "So let me explain: we have to repeat the dog breeds each and every time they are said on screen. You'll start with the first group, and then I'll take the second, and so on. Each time we mess up we have to drink a whole glass IF the other player is able to say that name. If the other player can't say the name, you're safe. If a player can say all the names in one group the other has to drink TWO glass."
He gives her a weird look and a goofy smile. "How old were you when you started playing this game?"
"Sixteen...maybe fifteen. Don't judge my game. It's a very fun game."
She takes a few bites off her plate.
"You won't be able to play with your mouth full," he says shaking his head.
The dogs from the first group appear on screen and he starts repeating the breed, until he totally messes up saying the Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier, a name that Donna repeats easily of course.
"Dammit!" he says before drinking his glass.
She takes a bite off her plate like it's no big deal. Too easy, she thinks. Years of practice.
"You have to repeat the names of those the judge calls too, you know?" she says way too enthusiastically.
"You are enjoying this, don't you?" he says while pouring himself another scotch.
"Oh you have no idea!"
"Well, I win at everything except this."
"...and while you were busy bragging, you just missed a bunch of names mister." She says, trying not to laugh. "Let me see: the Irish Terrier, the Scottish Terrier, the Miniature Schnauzer, the…"
"Shit! Okay I get it" he starts laughing. He drinks his scotch and as soon as he puts it on the table she pours him another glass.
Of course she rocks at this game. And he doesn't. She can repeat all the names in the Toy Group without making any mistake. His cheeks are red and he slurs too much while trying to say Bull Mastiff it sounds more like Bull Shit and he starts laughing uncontrollably.
It really is a lot of fun. They eat when there are commercial breaks and they talk animatedly. He's probably warm from all the alcohol: he removes his sweater, wearing only a white t-shirt. Her eyes linger on his arms...biceps. He is still talking and laughing. Something about Louis and puppets, she couldn't care less right now. God he looks good…
That's how it always was with him: when they aren't at work, it's fun, they forget about everything. It's like there's only THEM in this world.
He points at the screen "Oh my favorite redhead: the Irish Selfter." He looks at her. "I like redheads."
She looks at the man who's flirting with her, splayed on her couch. "You can't even say his name right."
He pushes himself to sit straight and before she can say anything else he leans in.
"I like you."
Her heart takes a giant leap. She will die right on the spot. She could always blame that take out from the dinner.
She looks up at Harvey and he's still close. Too close.
She swallows her saliva why the fuck is her throat so dry?
"You quit playing Harvey? I won?" she says trying to dismiss the fact that he's so close.
"I don't know," he replies, and his voice is different: charming, flirtatious...his eyes. There's a twinkle in his eyes. Oh fuck! She's screwed.
"Define 'winning, Donna."
She wants to say something witty, she's about to but his hand is on her arm and she's pretty sure her face and neck have gone red now but he doesn't seem to notice.
He's awfully close but it's like they are frozen in time, not moving. Just breathing.
"Donna," he asks his voice barely above a whisper. "Can I kiss you?"
Her heart screams YES. But what is that? Harvey Specter asking for permission? She's different. She really is different. That's what he means. Her mind is going at her hundred miles she feels dizzy. This isn't happening. She can't even reply.
Trying to gather up her nerves she looks into his eyes, she can't say anything but she tilts her head just a little and he slowly leans in as she flutters her eyes shut.
It's funny that the first thing she notices is that he tastes like scotch and cranberry sauce, and that's good, really good as their tongue meet and he holds her tight, his arms around her. She gives in, her mind completely blown.
Mitchell WHO?
She doesn't want to stop but they do need air and they break apart. His mouth cracks into a huge grin but he is looking at her affectionately, his hand wanders on her leg, just above her knee.
"See, I think it's clear I won," he says.
She chuckles and before she can say anything he kisses her hard this time, making her instantly weak. She touches his face, feeling his stubbles and then his moles under her fingertips, he's not slowing down and she surely doesn't want him to. Donna takes his hand, and squeezes her fingers between his, gently pushing him on his back pressing her body against his. She wants to say something, she needs to say something.
Her hands are under his shirt and she feels his hands on her breasts, the kisses become soft, lips brushing against each other's and she opens her eyes, sees him hesitating.
"Donna we don't…" He stops and swallows but his lips brush against hers again. "I mean, I wasn't expecting to…" He's very serious. The fact that he's taking this very seriously makes her even more eager. It's not like she hasn't waited long enough for this.
"Harvey. I won. Meaning, I'm gonna be on top." She removes her shirt and leans in to kiss him again, melting under his touch. He's gentle, sweet, still tastes like Scotch and cranberry and when she lets him roll her onto her back, feeling his weight on her, she knows what she's thankful for.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING! xoxo Fantomette