The Wonderment of it All
Category: Angst/Drama/Romance
Summary: Nobody is surprised when things start to fall apart.
AN: Thought I'd try something a bit different and I don't know...I think it broke me a little bit XD Constructive criticism is very much welcome and appreciated :)
I.
Harvey isn't surprised by the awkwardness. That despite not intending for it to happen- it does anyway.
From the moment Donna asks if he's okay with her dating Kessler it's a slow maddening descent into weeks of letting their rituals slip away, leaving behind an echo of things that used to be important.
He doesn't miss the shitty Thai food. He starts ordering from the classy place uptown instead until he realises she isn't around to notice and he switches back with indignation trying everything on the menu to spite himself or her (he isn't really sure). He gets sick twice which reaffirms his hatred for the place but they start giving him a cheap discount so he has Cameron install the app on his phone. It becomes a regular Tuesday night thing.
Their usual flirting takes on an inappropriate edge when he tries to rib her about things like the other time or strawberries and whipped cream. She has a boyfriend and if someone were to overhear it could be misconstrued and cause problems. He refrains from bringing it up or saying anything that might be taken out of context.
They stop making fun of Louis. Kessler is his client and if she inadvertently repeated something meant as a joke it would be unprofessional.
At some point they stop teasing each other as well.
The last time he touches her is a Wednesday. They're both late, rushing- well she is and her feet clumsily trip over themselves as she stumbles inside the elevator. His hands land in the natural indent of her waist and though he manages to steady her he lingers longer than he should and a heavy silence crashes the moment, riding up with them to the 50th floor. After that he always checks the lobby first. If she's there he takes the stairs.
Drinks between them become a dry and uncomfortable encounter. They happen when there's a need to discuss work or other people are around but it's only ever one, never two, and eventually those stop as well.
He pulls away because it's easier, feigns professionalism because he has to but a permanent storm cloud brews over his head and it feels like he's right back where he was a decade ago before Mike came along and made him start shitting goddamn emotions all over the place.
The only thing he lets escape now is tapered concern if the situation warrants it.
Usually it doesn't.
He stops taking calls from the kid all together and it seals his resolution; he's better off alone. It's the driving force that keeps him working and breathing, makes him arguably better at his job, and he idly wonders why he started caring in the first place.
Fate reminds him, intervening with a cruel twist at the worst possible time.
"Harvey?"
He doesn't look up at the flash of fiery red hair.
"Marcus called."
That almost gets his attention.
"Your mother's in the hospital, she had a stroke."
The sympathy in Donna's gaze doesn't soften the blow. If anything it just makes void in his chest more prevalent because it isn't ten years ago but Marcus still calls her when he needs to get something important through. He was trying to build something, a family, and now all he has are splintered fragments threatening to shatter. She must read the vulnerability, see the crack in his armour because whatever shit is going on between them they call an unspoken truce and she leaves with him.
They find their rhythm effortlessly without the prying eyes and ears of the world watching them.
Only Marcus is around and his brother spends most of the time sleeping amidst hushed conversations, too much coffee and easy banter that keeps them going through the night. He thinks about suggesting she leave, reminding her she has someone waiting at home but selfishly doesn't. Delirious from exhaustion he even lets himself buy into the notion that maybe she needs this as much as he does; to sit together and find their centre after too long apart.
When news that his mother is going to make a full recovery finally reaches them it ignites a dangerous spark of hope. Maybe they aren't completely lost to each. The moment she leaves, calling Thomas on the way out, he feels the naivety slip.
Come Monday the awkwardness is back between them amplified by glass walls that hide nothing and everything all at the same time.
He looks at the flowers on his desk, re-reads the neat scrawl of her handwriting but the addition of Kessler's name makes him recoil from the peppery smell of lavender and cloves. He takes the stairs down to the 47th floor and throws them out knowing she won't notice their absence.
When he returns to his office the sky is open and teeming over the darkened streets of Manhattan. It rains all day and people reel from the exposure, the audacity that it's going to last all week and the warning that more unpredictable storms are on their way. It's made abundantly clear through headlines on his phone and forecasts in the weather; things are only going to get worse.
He isn't surprised.
II.
Donna isn't thrown by some grand epiphany when it happens. The beginning of the end starts like it always does, slowly, with just enough warning to see the destruction but no time to move out of its way. Her father's bankruptcy, corruption at the DA's office, being fired and even her resignation all started with a sense of foreboding and this doesn't feel any different.
Hardman and Malik are gunning at them from either side. Harvey is at the helm keeping them at bay and the rest of them are trying to figure out a plan of attack to stop the firm from going under. It's exhausting, drawing the nights out longer, and Thomas' patience grates on her nerves fuelling the fact he really is too good to be true.
Or maybe just too good for her.
It's a thought that lingers when he visits the office bringing her lunch or just insisting he gets five minutes to see her if she's going to be working late. He never begrudges the long hours, only Harvey. That much is obvious whenever they run into each other and he presents the lawyer with a civil yet strained handshake. Still, he doesn't seem threatened in any way and she can't place why that bothers her so much. It shouldn't and the guilt creates a knot that grows more intricate and becomes harder to unravel as the weeks roll into months.
Six to be exact and it all culminates when she forgets their anniversary- the tipping point for most of her relationships, if they end up making the mark.
Thomas brushes it off blaming it on stress and points out he forgot his mother's birthday the week before. They both work incredibly hard, have the same drive to be successful, and his easy smile reminds her exactly why she loves him.
But it isn't enough.
She finally comes to realise the reason why he isn't threatened is because Harvey backed off first. The man didn't even put up a fight and it hurts more than it should. More than it's supposed to and shame leads to her to the truth; that even when she hates him he's still at the corners of her heart bleeding in. Until she lets go of Harvey completely and mourns the loss properly it isn't fair to be with anyone else.
Thomas doesn't ask for a reason. Ironically he doesn't fight for her either just expresses his disappointment and asks if she's sure. She isn't but the words don't escape and he must find an answer in the broken silence because he leaves and she wonders if letting him walk out is the single biggest mistake of her life. Aside from turning down Jimmy Patterson's invite to homecoming. She'd been waiting for Jason Denny to ask but he never called so she went to the dance alone.
Thomas doesn't call either and for the next seven days her diet consists solely of Chunky Monkey ice-cream and Merlot.
By the second week it's just wine.
III.
Samantha isn't unprepared for the false insistence Donna gives her; that she's fine and there's nothing wrong
In fact it's largely expected.
The redhead has been working tirelessly to keep the pressure they're all under at bay, using her powers of persuasion where needed and trying to balance her actual duties as COO. On any given day she's seven different people and Samantha can see the cracks starting to show, things that go unnoticed by their colleagues because for lack of a better term they're all hardass male lawyers.
She's two of those things but knows how long it takes to apply the correct shade of foundation, how to fit clothes around curves with the right amount of stretch and comfort. To her it's a necessity more than an enjoyment but she walks the walk and looks the part which is why she notices when Donna's clothes start to hang loosely and her hair gets swept up more often in an easy, effortless style.
It isn't about fashion.
The redhead could wear a plastic bag into the office and still pull it off but Samantha's concern lies in the changes, the subtle tricks to avoid looking exhausted and she presses the subject knowing it will go one of two ways; the women will either give in and tell her what's wrong or she'll have to guess and take her worry elsewhere.
"I appreciate the concern." Donna forces a smile, "but like I said, I'm fine."
Samantha's lips curve in response.
The latter it is.
She goes to Harvey for two reasons; because he and Donna have a history and because she suspects he's part of the problem. The tension between the pair has been like a revolving door of late, sucking people in and spitting them back out confused and disorientated. The two of them are always cordially polite, reading each others thoughts during meetings and bouncing off ideas but there's nothing in it behind the eyes. There's an unsettling emptiness leading them to act like strangers outside of their scheduled appointments and when she confronts Harvey she does it with a careful approach. Beating around the bush isn't her style but she's learnt sometime it's necessary in this place and she pushes her concern first before making any accusations.
She's surprised when he immediately brushes it off. Not because it's coming from her but because it's Donna and that would usually mean something to him. Instead he makes a point of noting it's a busy time and they're all stressed but the hasty click of his pen contradicts the affirmation. The clogs are turning despite his refusal to admit it and she decides raising his awareness is enough for the moment.
But she does leave him with a poignant, simple piece of advice.
At some point he might want to take the stick out of his ass.
She'll be amazed if he listens.
IV.
The rearing concern isn't what catches Harvey off guard. What annoys him is Louis' catty comment about Donna, something along the lines of 'you wouldn't know' that makes him feel like an even bigger jackass on the outs with everyone.
Well.
Fuck Louis.
He's here to do a job, rake in the money and- screw it. It's Donna. He can't let it go and the concern stays with him for days until he sees her wandering toward the kitchen late one afternoon and he finds his body lifting of its own accord to follow her.
They make their own coffee now. No morning drop offs or angling for favours but the fact goes unspoken as they move around each other in silence, the only sound coming from swinging cupboard doors as they individually take what they need.
Awkward is their new normal and he does't say anything just watches as she leans with tired exhaustion. It pulls him toward her but he stops shy of actually going anywhere and his fingers twitch with muted annoyance. He'd like to know why Kessler hasn't intervened or at least insisted she slow down but he breathes out the frustration when the coffee machine finishes whirring.
It isn't his place to get involved in their relationship.
He made that decision when he stopped asking about it.
He lets her have the first cup knowing she'll be standing there longer adding god knows what to make it barely drinkable and she thanks him with a forced smile. He tries to temper his mood in response, swirling his cup beneath the nozzle. It feels like the right time to say something and he clears his throat letting his gaze wash over her with candid concern."You're looking a little pale-" he points out, casually drawing back to his mug, "everything okay?"
She shrugs, deciding a diversion is easier than admitting the truth. "Nothing some sleep won't fix."
He gives a sharp nod. "Well, we need you functioning so tell Kessler to keep his hands to himself tonight."
She stills at the undertone not sure if it's meant to be light-hearted or antagonistic. It could easily be both but he obviously doesn't know about the breakup and she's amazed Louis hasn't spill the beans. There was a time the news would have escaped his mouth within seconds and it shows how far he's come as managing partner but the respect for her privacy also provokes a wave of guilt. She promised him she'd tell Harvey but hasn't even made an attempt and she splashes her non-fat soy milk into the cup deciding there's no point prolonging the inevitable. "Actually, we broke up."
He fumbles with the steamer nearly breaking it off the machine before collecting himself with a semi-appropriate response. "When?"
"A couple of weeks ago." She says smoothly, taking the carton and moving around him to the fridge. By the time she has it shelved and the door closed his shoulders have tensed and she knows he's pissed but steels herself against the reaction. If he'd wanted to know what was happening in her life he shouldn't have opted out of it and she rips open a packet of sugar firming her jaw.
"You should have told me." The frustration is tight on his lips bolstered by the tension surrounding them but his anger wanes in a rush. It makes sense now; why she's been staying late, the unusual frailty clinging to her and concern quickly replaces his annoyance.
If that son of bitch did anything to hurt her-
"What happened?"
There's a protective edge to his voice and she laughs but the sound is far from humorous. "Nothing." She leads with the assurance, bitterly shrugging off his rising testosterone. "It was a mutual decision."
Bullshit, he thinks, the thought circling as she disposes of the sugar packet with a trembling hand. If he wasn't worried before he definitely is now and instinctively seeks out her pulse but she tears her wrist away in a flash and there's no mistaking the anger in her tone.
"Don't." She lands her fingers on the counter trying to shake the sudden rush of adrenaline. For weeks now he's been in every one of her waking thoughts, the reasons plaguing her at night when she should have been in bed and happy with someone else. She's mad at herself more than anything but that doesn't give him the right to stand there, touch her, as if he played no part in it. He get's protective but it doesn't mean anything, get's jealous but that doesn't make him want more. He loves her but has everything he needs. There are enough mixed signals to cause a thirty car pile up on the interstate and dizziness creeps in making her heart thrum loudly in her ears.
He watches the color drain from her face and guilt burns through his worry. He'd thought letting her be happy was enough of a compromise. That if she was with Kessler he was entitled to distance but he hadn't prepared himself for the possibility it might all come crashing down and she would need someone to help pick up the pieces.
"Donna?" Louis appears out of nowhere and the man's glare makes Harvey feel like a piece of shit brought in on somebody else's shoe.
It's not a feeling he ever thought he'd associate with and when Louis barges over annoyance stabs through him. He expects Donna to brush him off and jealousy mixes with his concern when she lets him help- the man's stubby fingers easing her down onto a stool. He forgets himself and a fixation to make sure she's okay drives him forward.
"I've got this." Louis warns, flinching at the scowl sent his way but he doesn't cower to it. The past several months Donna's been a constant; guiding him through, helping outside of her own responsibilities and nurturing him into the role of managing partner. He considers her more than just a friend. She's someone incredibly dear to him and Harvey, he hasn't been that to anyone lately... head so far up his ass he wouldn't know what day it is let alone how to show some compassion. "Stick to what you're good at. Keep us from tanking in court tomorrow."
Harvey bristles at the backhanded compliment. "That's right because you're suddenly Genghis Khan now."
"Fuck you." It's a juvenile response but Donna is his primary concern and he decides on water as a course of action. She needs to hydrate and he steps toward the sink where he's immediately blocked by Harvey's squared chest.
"What did you just say to me?" Anger fuels his stance but Donna's voice quickly cuts through the stalemate.
"Both of you, stop." She presses a hand to her temple trying to massage out the pain blooming behind her eyes. She's had migraines before and this one isn't surprising given the accumulation of stress she's been under but what she needs are drugs not Harvey and Louis launching into a pissing match behind her.
Both men bend at the demand but Harvey shoulders his way to the sink first pouring a water and moving it beside her. "Here, drink this." His voice is softer but his expression remains hard as she fails to grip the glass causing liquid to spill over the sides. "That's it, I'm making you an appointment with my doctor."
For once Louis doesn't interject and without thinking she grabs Harvey's wrist stopping the search for his phone. It backfires when he uses the hold to reel himself in, hand splaying across her forehead and she winces at the unwanted yet welcoming coolness of his touch. "It's just a migraine." The reassurance scratches her throat and she swallows thickly, "I'll be okay in a minute."
"Katrina might have something." Louis suggests glancing at Harvey, the man's nearness to Donna making him uneasy. They should be working as a unit but the notion has become too far removed and his eyes fall back to her simmering protectively. "Are you okay if I-"
"She's fine." Harvey snaps interjecting and withdrawing his hand to her shoulder. Things may be tense but the insinuation she shouldn't be left alone with him riles his anger and he drives the lawyer from the room with a harsh glare muttering under his breath, "...f'cking moron."
"Harvey don't." She exhales the warning torn between her gratitude to Louis and thirteen years of history winding in her chest. It always has to be a goddamn competition between the two of them but Louis is right. Harvey needs to focus and she slides out from under him palming the fast throb in her temple. "I'll get a cab home. You need to concentrate on court tomorrow or Malik will-"
"Screw Malik." He pulls out a stool tempering his aggression as he drops to her level. She can barely keep her head off the table much less find her way out of the building and there's no way in hell he's letting her go anywhere alone. "You think I give a damn about anything else right now."
She doesn't and the guilt spikes a surge of adrenaline increasing her heart rate. He's worried but it doesn't mean anything- just that he'd let the firm go under, risk losing his career and give up everything because he cares about her. He'll sacrifice himself he just wont fight and the pounding in her skull intensifies making her eyes sting with unshed tears. Letting herself cry would ease the tension but she can't, even when his concern rings out beside her.
"Donna?"
She doesn't answer trying to swallow a rush of dizzying nausea. It feels like her chest is shrinking, panic evaporating the air in her lungs. She doesn't know what she's doing anymore, how she even got here and when Harvey's grip drags her around on the stool fear wrenches in her stomach.
"Donna, listen to me. You're having a panic attack." The words are calm and steady as he grips her shoulders, swiping his thumb across her cheek to collect the moisture escaping. "You need to breathe or you're going to pass out."
She nods, taking in oxygen with short gasps until she finds a rhythm that pulls his face into focus. There's no judgement in his gaze but she still winces, the bright lights around them too harsh to absorb.
"Come on, I'm taking you home."
He hooks an arm around her waist and she's too exhausted to argue or fight the emotion warring inside her. She just wants to sleep and when he takes her to his condo she doesn't question it, doesn't bring up Malik or ask about the pills he slips her before wrapping her up in his bed. She just inhales the woody and aloof scent of his sheets letting it lure her into a gentle calmness.
She can be embarrassed tomorrow.
Right now she needs an escape and lets the feeling of defeat roll her into the waiting darkness.
V.
Louis isn't taken aback by the fight that ensues when Harvey finally answers his phone. Both men are livid with a volatile approach and Louis is half tempted to call the police on the arrogant son of a bitch, have him brought up on kidnapping charges. He's acting like the jackass he was when they first started working together but this time Jessica isn't around to bail him out and-
Holy. Goddamn. Shit.
A startling clarity forces Louis back into his chair and he holds the phone out muting the shouts as he tears a hand up through his hair.
He is fucking Jessica.
It's his job to manage Harvey when he spirals, his duty to be the bigger person, and he returns to the call trying to clear his head and channel anyone who can guide him through the proverbial minefield. He starts with his therapist and takes a deep, sobering breath leading back in with Donna. They can both agree they want what's best for her, that's indisputable, and he scrambles his way through not sure what's working and what isn't but something does.
A begrudging yet genuine apology closes around Harvey's aggression and Louis almost goes into cardiac arrest.
It's enough to bridge an amicable truce and he compromises agreeing to send over Cameron with the documents Harvey needs to prep for court. Because they both have their own views on how to help Donna but they're on the same page when it comes to Hardman and Malik.
Both assholes are going down.
He hangs up still slightly at odds with the decision to capitulate but annoyingly (realistically) he tries to align himself with the possibility Harvey might know what Donna needs. Christ knows if it's true or not but he'll bet his ass Jessica never ended a call with the man actually apologising and he pulls out his dictaphone marking it as a date to remember.
Screw it, if they survive tomorrow he might just petition for a national holiday.
VI.
Harvey isn't alarmed when Donna sleeps for six hours straight. It just means the anti-anxiety meds are doing their job and he manages to work almost solidly knowing she safe and getting the rest she needs. Surprisingly he doesn't obsess over Kessler either pushing it to the back of his mind as something to deal with later. He needs to focus on things he can control and when she appears bleary eyed, wearing the dress he put her to bed in, he glances up with an inspecting and tight smile. She's still pale but her features seems less strained and he drops the folder on top of the several others splayed open across the coffee table. "Feeling better?"
She nods, heat burning her cheeks as she looks around and spots her purse on the counter. She doesn't remember leaving it there. Doesn't recall much of anything after running into him the kitchen and she steels herself making a beeline towards it. "I should go, get out of your hair."
"Donna." There's a slight edge to his voice as he points to the chair opposite him. "Sit."
She swallows roughly, her fingers slipping form the leather strap with a sharp exhale. His expression betrays the lecture coming and she wants to point out he had no right dragging her here in the first place but it's hardly a fair accusation. She didn't exactly protest and complies seating herself on the recliner with a poorly thought out excuse spilling from her lips, "it was just a migraine, I get them sometimes." It's feeble but believable and she shrugs, "I should have stayed home... it won't happen again."
"You're damn right it won't-" he cuts straight through her bullshit with a serious look, "from tomorrow you're on sick leave. Take a couple of days, get some actual sleep and make sure you eat something."
Her jaw locks stubbornly but she doesn't argue. Better to plead ignorance when she turns up in the morning anyway. "That all?"
His eyes wash over her, the authority leaving his voice as he takes in her rigid posture. "No, it's not."
He closes the folder in front of him removing the distraction. They keep winding up here. Acting like strangers but finding each other in the times that matter and he's sick of fighting it, tired of putting limitations on what they mean to each other when she has and always will be everything to him. It's a sobering realisation that prompts him to broach the subject he's been successfully avoiding for the better part of the last six hours. "What happened with Thomas?"
The question comes left of field but she manages to keep her expression neutral. "I told you already. We both decided it wasn't working."
He blows air into his cheeks feeling frustration ride his concern. He's seen her end relationships before and they've never affected her this badly which means she's either still in love with Kessler or she's hiding something.
"That doesn't tell me shit..." he rolls his gaze up to find her glaring stubbornly and it almost sparks amusement in his expression. Donna Paulsen isn't fragile. Exhausted and rundown maybe but she doesn't let people break her and amicable splits don't leave people on the verge of having panic attacks.
He should know.
When she left to go work for Louis it was one-sided breeding his own anxiety and the hint of ease quickly vanishes from his face. "I'm worried about you." He puts it out there matter-of-factly, softening his tone with a sigh, "I just want to make sure you're okay Donna, that's all."
That's all. It rings true in more ways than one and she shakes her head steeling herself against the tender concern. He wants to know what happened, wants to make sure she isn't hurting but it doesn't mean anything or at least nothing he'll ever admit to. "I'm fine."
It should be what he wants to hear, a band-aid fix to everything but he pushes up in a quick sweeping motion and irritation spills from her mouth, "what do you want me to say, Harvey?" He stops and turns with a blank stare and regret tightens in her chest. She should drop it, leave before sparking an argument but they're barely on the verge of civil as it is and she presses her hands into her thighs with a sharp exhale, "you ran away from me, shut me out because it was uncomfortable and now you expect me to open up on your terms. How is that fair?"
Guilt twists in his stomach at the accusation and he stalls swallowing thickly. Maybe it isn't but he never intended for his actions to be malicious, never wanted anything other than what was best for her and his fingers twitch in place of moving. He needs the distance and uses it as a buffer to gather his thoughts. She might think it didn't affect him but it did. He'd made a choice based on what he thought was the right thing to do at the time and he can't change that now, only defend it. "You were happy. I didn't want to screw that up."
Like she did, rings through her head the excuse triggering a flash of his therapist and the tension she'd inadvertently caused. She'd kissed him but it was never meant to break up his relationship and shame flushes her cheeks. "Were you happy with Paula?"
"I..." his mouth opens autonomously but confusion deflects the response. "That has nothing to do with this."
"Doesn't it?" In the years she's known him selflessness has never once motivated his actions and frustration winds around her guilt. "I made one mistake, Harvey..." her voice wavers and she sucks in a breath swiping the moisturise at her eyes, "you cant keep punishing me for it."
He isn't but her anguish drives him forward without protesting the fact until he's resting on his hunches beside her. "Donna, look at me." She steels herself but he can still see the pain etched in her exhaustion and it rams home everything he's been too ashamed to face.
Kessler didn't do this to her, he did.
An apology wedges in his throat but he doesn't know where to start. He can't fix anything unless she's willing to move forward and he lifts his hand brushing the hair from her face with an almost pleading tone. "What happened with Thomas?"
She shakes her head, not sure why he feels the need to torture them both. "I can't."
It cuts through him and his heart slams against his chest. He doesn't understand why she's afraid to say it when he's just as vulnerable as she is right now and he skates his thumb across her cheek intensifying the intimacy between them. "Tell me."
God she hates him. He made her swear she wouldn't do this to them again, that they wouldn't ever be back here but the smell of sandalwood and hints of scotch on his breath entice her lips apart. She doesn't look at him, can't, but the words still find their way out.
"He wasn't you."
She waits for him to let go, ridicule her with some reason why it doesn't mean what she thinks it does but his mouth finds hers in a gentle kiss giving her just enough time to adjust to the intrusion. It stirs a need in the pit of her stomach, a desperate ache that spirals upwards and her fingers flutter pushing him back.
He catches her hand holding it in place against his chest. "I never meant to hurt you."
She believes it for no other reason than they never mean to hurt each other, it just keeps happening but maybe it's time they changed that. "Say it..." she challenges, not sure what to expect in return but his light smile makes her pulse skip.
"I'm in love with you Donna."
He doesn't hesitate because this is their chance to fix things.
VII.
Mike isn't blindsided by the gossip when it reaches him. He knew from Rachel who heard it from Robert who was told by Samantha who'd pried it from Alex that Malik went down like a crying baby in court. It's the fact Harvey hasn't gloated about it himself that makes Mike worry and he sits idly on the bed, phone in hand, when his wife walks into the bedroom.
Rachel spots his hesitation immediately and shakes her head. "Why don't you just call him?"
He shrugs but her pointed look urges him to unlock the screen and he dials Harvey's number with an overly dramatic sigh. It rings twice and his eyes bulge when a distinctly familiar female answers.
[Mike, we're busy. I'll make sure he calls you.]
Donna's voice crashes into the dial tone and he holds out the phone staring at it then glancing at Rachel.
She smiles sweetly at him rubbing moisturiser over her face. "Donna answer?"
"They're not-"
She nods and his lips purse in a confused-excited-what-the-hell-are-you-shitting-me kind of way. "You didn't think to tell me that before?"
"I thought it would be more fun this way." She crawls into the bed with a grin, her gaze shimmering as she curls toward his perplexed expression. "She only told me this morning." It's not really a defence and she takes the phone out of his hand with a mischievous pout, "forgive me?"
"Like hell I do." He grabs her by the waist starting a ticklish assault on sides until she's breathless and begging him to stop. He does, eventually, and slides down beside her with a loose smirk. "You're evil woman, you know that?"
She rests her head on the pillow with an adoring smile. "Isn't that why you married me?"
"Something like that." He hums with amusement still reeling over the fact Harvey and Donna actually managed to get their shit together.
It's about goddamn time.
VIII.
No one is surprised the wedding is a small affair.
Strange perhaps given the amount of people they each know- not strange to the people who know them.
It's tastefully extravagant, certain traditions like the bride wearing white and the groom making a speech traded in for a simple exchange of vowels. The devil is in the detail; expensive champagne, imported caviar, crystal chandeliers hanging from the private wine cellar in Del Posto. It's special, uniquely them, and no questions their plans or what they intend to do going forward. It's a celebration of the past as much as it is the future, of the challenges they've overcome and the happiness they've managed to find together.
The newlyweds aren't surprised by the little things that go wrong here and there. It's a wedding, theirs, and they're blissfully aware it doesn't need to be perfect.
Samantha isn't surprised when Louis insists on giving a speech after one too many long island iced teas.
Louis is astounded that no one laughs at his joke about the Canapés but the rest of his words are well received so he let's it slide.
Mike and Rachel don't bat an eyelid when midnight ticks over with no sign of Harvey and Donna on the dance floor the pair having quietly slipped away leaving party-goers to drink and lavish up the celebrations.
The only surprise of the evening comes in the form of candles scattered throughout the condo but before Donna can ask how Harvey's lifting her across the threshold, her protest flickering the soft glow around them. He smiles warmly assuring her there's only one more tradition they have to adhere to and her laugh caries them to the bedroom. They stay wrapped in each other until the candles bleed into the early morning light and she falls asleep to sound of the city waking up, content to let it all keep turning around them.
Harvey doesn't sleep.
He lets the last fourteen years sink in as he watches over her- taking in the wonderment of it all.