A/N (the rest won't be this long, I promise):

I completely admit to lurking through Suits FF for months now. And because of said lurking an idea popped in my head that I just could not get rid of. That and the fact that I figured I would try to help the Suits draught till next summer (NOOOOOO!). Thus, I am attempting the impossible and throwing this little idea out into the FF realm. I was always curious about the Donna/Harvey dynamic and Donna's dating life (Harvey gets around, so why can't she?). So here goes nothing…

Disclaimer: I do not own Suits—*cries*—the boys and Donna belong to USA Network and Aaron Korsh.

DATE 1: NICE GUYS FINISH LAST

"I thought it would be cruel not to let you witness my greatness."—Harvey Specter

Mike POV

The first thing Mike noticed as he rushed toward Harvey's office that Tuesday morning was a bright, borderline blinding, assortment of oranges and yellows coming from Donna's desk. The second thought that occupied his mind was that Harvey was not in his office. And the third… the third was that he was royally screwed. Harvey had all but threatened to send him to his grave if he were late this particular morning. It was the morning they were finalizing the Derikson case. A deceptively simple class action lawsuit that Mike and, though he'll never admit it, Harvey, had spent the past month slaving over. Mike chanced a glance at his watch and cursed as he skidded to a halt at Donna's desk. Ten minutes late was as good as dead.

"You are so lucky I decided to like you," the smug voice brought his attention back to the wall of color currently blocking his view of the redheaded assistant. Flowers, his mind instantly corrected. The obstruction was a bouquet orange and yellow flowers.

"Donna," the associate sagged against the desk as the meaning of her words finally echoed through his head. "I love you," he finished with a charming smile towards the woman furiously typing at her computer.

"No," her voice took on the ominous dramatic tone that Mike had come to respect, "the correct sentence would be, 'Donna I adore you and owe you my life for rescheduling the Derikson meeting for later this morning." Donna leaned past the flowers and into view. She eyed him expectantly with that overly sweet smile plastered on her face.

Mike got the hint.

"Donna I adore you an—

"No." Another voice interrupted and Mike's heart sank. "The correct response would be, 'Donna I adore you and thank you for saving my ass," Harvey hissed the last words as he walloped Mike upside the head with a file.

A large file.

"Ow," Mike whined despite himself and turned towards his boss. "You know, employee harassment and abuse is really frowned up—

Mike shut up as Harvey raised the file again in warning. The associate tried not to flinch as he turned his attention back to the less-physically threatening of the two.

"So Donna," Mike mused. He heard Harvey mutter something that involved incompetence and puppy before the older lawyer brushed past him into his office. "Who's the floral sun from?" He asked as he eyed the slightly obnoxious bouquet. To Mike's amusement, it actually did resemble a sun. Though a sun made out of flowers was a bit… weird. Needless to say he was intrigued.

"I'm sorry," Donna did not even look up from her computer, "were you still talking?"

"Yeah, ha ha," Mike scoffed. "Seriously, who are they from?"

Silence.

Mike moved around the desk so he was looming over the back of the monitor. He could wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And w—

"Attempting to distract me into admittance is not going to work pup," Donna deadpanned.

Mike raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes in innocence, "Me? Distracting?... Donna you misunderstand I—

"No," toned the assistant.

"But—

"No," she emphasized, expression bordering on the look. Mike decided it was time for Plan B and inched towards the floral structure.

"But what if one of the other associates is trying to butter you up for the next mock trial?" Mike countered as his hand subtly reached for the tag at the top of the vase. "I can't have them stealing away my leading lady," he hedged, eyes flickering to the tag.

"Mike," Donna paused, try to get his attention. "Sweetheart," she finished in an unfamiliar lilt.

The endearment should have been a warning, but Mike's brain was fully engrossed in the task at hand and did not even register the threat in the redhead's new tone. Not to mention, the wickedly joyful taint to the word sweetheart. Instead, Mike's logic only registered the word itself and smiled in response as he turned to the woman before him.

"Yes Donna?" He replied in utmost sincerity as his hand still inched toward the little piece of paper.

WHACK!

Donna POV

The kid did not even see it coming. Not that I wanted him to. After what seemed like minutes, the pain finally registered across his face. Mike tried to pull his hand away, but I was faster. Locking his wrist in my grip before the poor kid could blink. He gave a strangled noise in response. Something between a scream and a whimper and I felt the triumphant smile start to ease its way onto my face. Mike's eyes caught mine then and they widened in fear as they darted between the stapler clutched expertly in my right hand and the smile that had stretched across my face. I pulled him closer.

"Mike," I began in a voice so coated with honey that the pup froze in dread, "I will say this once and only once. Are you listening?" I questioned pleasantly and the kid managed a shaky nod.

"Good," my smile widened. "Those flowers there," I nodded towards my desk corner, "are none of your business and if you want to keep your job, let alone your right hand—I paused to let it sink in—you will walk back to your desk and to the files Harvey has waiting for you… Understand?"

The threat had Mike nodding so quickly, he blurred on the spot.

"Good boy," I winked and released him.

The associate all but ran back to his cubicle. I shook my head. I liked Harvey's charity case, really, I did, but sometimes I wanted to strangle him. Repeatedly. The kid had a tendency to be persistent, and while it paid off for cases, my personal life was not up for interrogation. It was a lesson the puppy had to learn. And soon, or I'd beat it into him. Pleading baby blues or not.

A familiar chuckle from behind brought me out of my thoughts.

"Going for the card," Harvey smirked as he eyed the flowers, "rookie mistake."

The eye roll came far too easily as I turned towards him.

"Kid should have known better," Harvey continued.

"A mistake you made frequently, if I recall," I said. The lawyer did not miss my pointed look as I reclaimed my seat.

"I never got the stapler," he hedged in reminder as his eyes scanned the vase. "The poor kid's probably scarred for life after that," Harvey's eyes flitted towards the associates' cubicles for a moment before meeting mine. I resisted a smirk.

"Careful Harvey," I mocked. "You're starting to care," I finished with practiced astonishment.

Harvey scoffed and turned back towards the yellow and orange monstrosity.

"I don't need him turning into you Harvey," I reminded before he could deter for too long. "One of you is enough to deal with," I muttered as I swiveled my chair back to my computer.

"Heard that," the reply came from my left this time and I caught sight of him perched on the inside edge of the desk. Anyone else would be annoyed by the lurking shadow just outside their peripheral, but I was not anyone. That particular perch was a habit I had never been able to break him of, and after years I found I did not want to. Despite my respect for personal space, it never applied to Harvey. It was just how we worked.

"You were meant to," I sang to the computer screen. I didn't need to look at him to feel the glare radiating against my back. Chuckling silently, I returned to my spreadsheet.

While I worked, I waited. Harvey had not moved, not that I expected him to. I let him brew in silence, the only disturbance the sound of my keyboard. He would cave, he always did. It never failed in twelve years. Each and every time my desk was graced with flowers from anyone but Harvey, said lawyer would sit in the exact position he was now and brood at the obtrusive gift. He made a game out of it. Staring down the thing like it was a challenge to his very being. Going through all of my past acquaintances in his head to figure which guy had sent it. And this bouquet was no exception.

When he had first started this little ritual, I had tried to threaten him, to get him to back off. The last thing I needed was yet another way to feed his ego. But now… now it had become such a routine that I simply found it amusing. I vaguely wondered what his reaction would be if I modeled his behavior. It would be a much more frequent game, knowing how many women went in and out of his life. Match the panties to the bimbo. I held in a snort at the thought. It would be too easy.

I glanced at Harvey and found an all too familiar scowl on his face, but his eyes lit up and I knew he was getting close.

5

4

3

2

1…

"Brian," the smugness in his voice didn't surprise me.

"No," I responded in a bored tone. Strike one.

"What?" Harvey questioned, incredulous. "These have to be from Brian. It practically screams starving artist!"

"Despite your obstinate opinion of him," my eyes cast sideways in a glare, "Brian actually has taste." I eyed the bouquet uneasily.

Harvey caught my stare.

"I'm not glorifying that statement with a comment," his tone returned to the emotionless void that he was so fond of. He eyed the flowers once more. After a moment's pause, a smiled graced his features.

"Peter," he stated.

"Nope," I popped the p, knowing it would push a few buttons. I smirked as the scowl returned. Strike two.

I could not help but chuckle as the scowl deepened and a truly irked expression appeared on his face. It was no secret that Harvey hated to lose. It was, however, a secret that this was the only game he had ever lost. My secret. The tradition had started at the DA's office. Back when Harvey Specter was not a household name and I was a lowly secretary. We were first getting to know each other, and oh how I used to love to watch him squirm over the very idea of someone sending me flowers. He was naïve then and lost quite often, but he learned.

I smiled when his expression did not let up. It had been a while since Harvey had been this stumped. Years really. Granted, the flowers had a lot to do with it. They were a unique bunch, to put it lightly, and the assortment was not exactly what one would call pretty. I myself had given up and snatched the card in order to figure out the sender. There was no doubt in my mind that Harvey's impeccable taste was clashing with the man in question's, and it was hindering his deductive reasoning. Not that I was complaining.

"Please don't tell me Louis is begging for you to be his secretary again?" Harvey whispered in annoyance.

I shuddered dramatically, sure to emphasize my point. That did not stop me from sending a look that clearly stated you had better be kidding.

Harvey's eyes sparked in amusement and he gave a dark chuckle. I knew he was flashing back to the last time Louis attempted to give me flowers. I was right there with him.

"George," Harvey's voice snapped me back.

I tried to hide my astonishment, and failed.

The closer smirked.

"Damn it," I cursed harshly and dropped my eyes in disappointment. I almost had him.

"I knew it," Harvey chortled triumphantly, not missing a beat.

I wanted to point out that it took him three tries, as opposed to his maximum of two. But I knew it would be completely useless. It was Harvey. I sighed in exasperation as his smirk grew. Experience told me where this was going.

"Harvey," I warned. The wheels were already turning in his head. I had to at least attempt to stop him, before he enjoyed every minute of this.

I had known George for almost a year now, and despite my best efforts, he was a genuinely nice guy. Initially, his career as a stock broker made it hard to believe. But George had surprised me. Away from the market and pull of the top NYC corporations, he was an awkward, shy guy that had a taste for reality. And he wasn't bad to look at either. It made him the ideal companion for occasional dates. We had a good time together. It never amounted to anything, and never would. I had been forward with that specific aspect of our relationship, and while George took certain liberties—the sun-like bouquet hoarding my desk was stark evidence of the fact—he respected it, and was never rude. He was harmless, polite and vaguely ignorant, but at times it was exactly what I needed. It was a stark contrast and relief from the New York Ivy League bastards, and a well deserved one at that.

Deserved or not, it never came without a hitch. A hitch in the form of the lawyer currently taking up the left side of my desk.

Harvey was not especially fond of George.

Then again, Harvey had always held a certain reproach for any guy that vied for my attention. George made a mistake though, the first time I introduced the two. He gave something that you can never give to Harvey Specter:

Power.

Harvey intimidated George. And he did it easily. Harvey knew this. I knew this. The whole firm knew this. George himself was not unaware of the fact. And hell would freeze over before Harvey Specter did not take advantage of it.

The smirk was now a full blown grin as he plotted.

"Harvey," I tried again and resisted the urge to slap him when he would not look at me. Instead he gave a half-hearted wave of acknowledgement.

Damn him.

"Harvey Specter." I was not playing games anymore. My voice could have iced over the entire firm and the thirty-three floors beneath it.

Harvey was not that stupid.

I had his attention then as he faced me and raised an eyebrow in a clear What? expression. His once accomplished innocent-schoolboy routine had never had much luck with me.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Each word was enunciated and enhanced with threat.

I had a solid opinion concerning the wrath of Harvey Specter. It was reserved for four types of people: douchebags, annoyingly-persistent druggie friends of the puppy, scumbag DA bastards, and Louis. It was not, however, reserved for people like George. And I made absolutely sure that he could read every word of it on my face.

Without another word the emotionless mask was back, it was painted effortlessly as Harvey rose to his feet.

"Whatever you say Donna," he replied as he sauntered back into his office.

Harvey and I had known each other a long time. He was my employer, my confident, my best friend, and at times like now, an enormous pain in my ass.

The plan had been a dinner date with George. I had called him shortly after my warning to Harvey, and he had been quick to accept. George had met me at my desk at eight, and we were about to leave when a certain egotistical closer decided to make an appearance. It was eight-thirty now and my chances of leaving were beginning to dwindle. After an overly cheerful reintroduction and a handshake tense enough to reverberate through three floors, I found myself once again witnessing another of Harvey Specter's dominance crusades. And God help me, George actually decided to have a backbone for this one. We were well past the chest-puffing and mocking compliments, and I was about two she-likes-me-more implications away from slapping someone.

"How's business these days George? The stock market isn't what it used to be, though I'm sure you've been able to handle it," Harvey's hook brought me back to attention. A smile lit his face that I had not seen since his ADA days.

Here we go.

"It's going well Harvey," George responded cleanly. "I just ensured a trade to Pfizer worth 50 million," he finished proudly.

I was stunned to say the least. The last two times George had met Harvey, the latter had reduced him to a stutter within the first five minutes. This time the broker was holding his own, and I did not know what to do with it. Unfortunately, Harvey did.

"Well done," Harvey said in the tone he reserved for Mike when the associate accomplished something menial and completely insignificant. "I recently finalized a merger for 500 million," the lawyer continued, "though that's considered small change to you and me."

"Of course," George answered knowingly. "Luckily I don't have the pleasure of navigating through the everyday misgivings and corruption of the Fortune 500 inner circle," the man conceded. "I confess the handling of the law seems messy." George's tone was an obvious attempt at a challenge, and I very nearly allowed myself a palm to the face.

Cue Harvey.

"Messy indeed," the senior partner started confidently, "a few months ago I handled a particularly nasty embezzlement case for the SEC."

I watched George's face flash with recognition. Harvey did not miss it either. The closer smelled blood in the water.

"Pretty little broker thought it would be convenient to liquidate significant sums of money from her clients' accounts. Worked out well for her," he hedged, "she made it through fifteen companies before a mistake alerted her to the SEC. Luckily her clientele chose Pearson Hardman to represent. I am after all," Harvey paused for effect, "the best at cleaning up messes," the lawyer finished, piercing George with a hard gaze.

That was my cue.

I stepped in before Harvey went for the kill. Holding my resolve, I placed myself between the two men, facing my date and effectively breaking Harvey's demeaning glare. All the bravado George had managed before had diminished. I felt the lawyer shift confidently behind me and to my great annoyance I knew that victorious smirk was inching up my back.

I swore to kick his ass for this, no matter how fine he thought it was.

"George," I said as pleasantly as I could muster. "We're going to be late for dinner," I reminded, completely ignoring the ego behind me.

The stock broker eyed over my shoulder hesitantly before he managed to snap himself out of it.

"Of course Donna," he focused on me again and forced a smile. "How rude of me," he checked his watch, "we can make it if we leave now." His eyes went back to mine and to my annoyance shifted to Harvey, making a quick decision. "I'll go get the cab," without waiting for a reply he turned and nearly flew towards the elevators.

"He's improving," Harvey's smugness made me want to throttle him.

I rounded on him.

"You," I poked a finger into his chest. Hard. "Are dangerously close to becoming an asshole," I hissed.

Harvey just smiled.

"Aw Donna I'm flattered," he inched closer despite my stabbing him. "And you can't tell me you didn't enjoy that," he nodded towards the elevators, brow quirked in supposition.

I steeled myself against his current stance. It was a tactic he used often, invading my personal space until I could not think straight.

"Using your ridiculous alpha-male tendencies to win an unfair fight," I bit back, and his eyes flashed in humor. "How any woman could resist that, I'll never know."

"You didn't stop me," Harvey smirked knowingly. "Besides," he continued, "it's been a long week. I needed some amusement."

"If by amusement you mean two grown men acting like hormonal gorillas," I countered, "then yes, I'd say it was more than efficient by your standards." It was my turn to smile at his obvious irritation to being compared to an ape.

"Now if you'll excuse me I'm late," I emphasized and began walking to the elevators.

"You know you love me," Harvey called at my back.

"And you know who gets your coffee in the morning," I called back. "Oh the things I could do to it," I mused sweetly and loud enough for him to hear. I smiled as his steps began to follow mine.

"Not funny," Harvey deadpanned, stopping next to me as I waited for the elevator.

"I don't know Harvey," I feigned thoughtfulness. "It has been a long week," I smirked up at him and inched closer, "and I am in some dire need of amusement."

He tensed as if just realizing how much damage I could cause through a simple beverage.

The elevator dinged and I patted his tie back into place innocently before stepping into the compartment.

"Goodnight Harvey," I chuckled as the elevator doors closed on his shocked face.

A/N:

Lol wow, I haven't done this in a while. I apologize for my rustiness and if anyone was too OOC… eep.

The plan (if you approve) involves a plot of 5 dates and the trials and tribulations (muahahaha) that they put Donna and Harvey through. They will not be in chronological order and will range from pre-Mike to Mike-time frame for our lovely duo.

Hope you guys enjoyed! Give the little blue guy some love!

Next Chapter: the douchebag.

-HV