NIGHT AND DAY
By
Lacadiva
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Suits is all USA network and Aaron Korsh. I just want to be Jessica when I grow up…and have my own Harvey!
Summary: The end of a wedding reception for a mutual friend…and Harvey finds the nerve to ask a reluctant Jessica for a dance. Just a quick, fluffy one-shot idea I had before Comic-Con, and didn't have a chance to write it until now.
"What exactly is this, Mr. Specter?"
Her voice was low and resonant, and Harvey could feel her warm breath close to his ear as they danced. Her perfume made him far headier than anything he could have ordered from the bar. The warmth they shared as the chilly evening progressed was more welcoming than anything.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Ever.
"Can you be more specific?" Harvey asked. His own voice was breathy and deep.
He looked at the smooth, delicate hand that sat so perfectly in his, captured by the contrast of deep cocoa against his own moonlight pale skin, and fascinated by her long, tapered fingers that ended with deep red nails that were shaped to perfect ovals.
He turned; she turned; he lead, she followed. And then she looked him dead in the eyes.
"I'm talking about this," she said pointedly.
"You mean…this?"
Harvey took the lead again, in a way that even surprised him (considering the many glasses of champagne and good bourbon he had consumed). It was, after all, a wedding reception, a big budgeted affair with a generous open bar, tacky but practical tiki torches, and a live band that didn't shy away from old standards…
…like Night and Day. Harvey knew…this just happened to be one of Jessica's favorite songs.
He had gone back and forth in his mind most of the night about asking her. A "no" would certainly not destroy him. He was, after all, Harvey Specter, and there would be other opportunities. But for some reason, a yes meant more than he could articulate. So he had bided his time all night, fighting to urge to watch her, though he would often find her in the periphery of his vision. He would see her talking with a bevy of her admirers, throwing back her head to laugh politely at some inane bit of office humor. Or he watched her thoughtfully sipping champagne. And if he watched her long enough, her eyes would find his. And she would smile.
She had been sitting at her assigned table – close to the bride and groom – with a few remaining long-time colleagues and cronies. Harvey waited for them to wandered off, one by one, two by two, promising to keep in touch, make a lunch date, consider Pearson Specter Litt for some transaction in the future, until Jessica was finally sitting alone.
She was resplendent in her soft satin emerald dress with the plunging back. She sat tapping her foot ever so subtly to the music.
This had to be this moment, Harvey knew, or it would never happen. He approached her, made his way to Jessica's table with tie loosened, head buzzing, and his responsibility as groomsman finally concluded. He held out a hand.
She looked questioningly at his palm.
"You haven't dance tonight," said Harvey.
"And you want to make up for it?"
"Why not?"
Jessica stood, but did not accept his hand.
"Should have asked sooner, hotshot. Time for this little duck to go home."
"Don't leave yet. Dance with me."
"Harvey…you know what I'm going to say."
"Then say the opposite. I'm just asking for a dance. One song. It's your favorite."
She tilted her head to the side to listen. Harvey tried not to notice as her dark hair tumbled over a shoulder.
"I think of you…night and day…" she sang just under her breath.
"Besides," Harvey continued, "anybody who would possibly care is long gone."
"Actually, there are one or two remaining who might bring up matters of propriety…"
"You're gonna let a them stand in the way of your inalienable right to dance with a good looking guy?"
"If you see a good looking guy…"
He laughed. So did she. He was floored and fought to urge to let it show.
She stood up, right before him. He could smell champagne and peppermint on her breath.
"Look, Jessica…"
"Shut up and dance, Harvey."
She took his hand and followed as he led her out to the empty, polished wood dance floor. Awkwardness seized him. How close? How far? What would happen when his hand touched the evening-cooled skin of her exposed back? What if she pulled away, or worse, turned and walked away?
He was thinking way too much about this.
It took a moment as they awkwardly reached for one another, then stopped, then attempted again. Finally he looked away as they slipped chastely into each others' arms. It was a full beat before they began to sway in time with the music, as if neither of them knew quite what to do. Like two smitten teens trying to navigate their way through a first time crush…with far too many relatives scattered around who might demand more than an inch apart between them.
Nothing could be more un-Harvey-like, he thought. He was usually so smooth, so cool, so one-step-ahead of the game that the woman on his radar had little choice but to give in to his well-practiced charm.
But this was different. This was Jessica Pearson. His boss…sure. His friend… absolutely. But exactly what was this?
Jessica was fighting to keep a neutral face herself. When exactly did her thoughts about Harvey begin to evolve? She'd brought him up, nurtured and raised him, from a mailroom pauper to a promising Associate, to partner and most powerful attorney in the firm. Of course there were feelings in that. But what exactly was this?
She let her dark, smoky eyes meet his brown eyes. The communication between them could not have been louder. She felt the urge to move away, and attempted to, only to feel him hold her that much tighter. It wasn't territorial; it wasn't predatory or threatening. But it was powerful. And Jessica was always attracted to power.
"What exactly is this, Mr. Specter?"
"Can you be more specific?"
His warm hand on her back moved and she cursed herself when she realized she had chosen that moment to drop her guard and gasp ever so slightly. She knew Harvey saw it, heard it, and felt it.
"I mean…what's happening…right now."
"Nothing. Just two people dancing at the wedding of a mutual friend and colleague. What do you think is happening right now?"
"I think…we've both had a little too much to drink."
"That could be true."
Harvey dipped her, and she let loose a girlish laugh in surprise.
And then the song ended.
And Harvey did not let her go.
"One more dance?" he asked.
"I think this is where we say goodnight," her smile waning.
"Another time then?"
She didn't speak, but let her eyes drop to subtly send a message.
"Well then…goodnight, Jessica."
She remained for another beat, lost in the moment, mind racing, heart racing, and wondered if he could tell.
Harvey fought every urge to kiss her. Not here, not in this public place where eyes would widen, mouths would drop, and the rumor mill would immediately begin grinding out tawdry stories that would label his boss and friend as less than professional, less than perfect.
Did you hear about Jessica Pearson and Harvey Specter? I guess we know how she collects the firm's partner fees…
No, regardless of what great pleasure there would be, Harvey knew the best thing he could do now was to let her go. Still…
He didn't take a step back. Not yet.
"You have a way home?" he asked, though he already knew the answer to his question.
"I have a car waiting," she said. "I'd offer you a ride…"
"I know," he said, and finally took that step back. "Can't let them see us leaving together. I'm good."
"Then I'll see you in the office tomorrow?"
"No," said Harvey, and saw her eyebrow rise questioningly.
"Tomorrow's Sunday," he said matter-of-factly.
"Of course it is," she said with an embarrassed smile.
"Unless you want me to come in. We can get a jump on things. Work things."
He could have kicked himself for how un-Harvey-like he sounded.
"It can wait until Monday, whatever it is."
And then she turned and left. Each step like a movement in a song.
Harvey approached the band, pulled a twenty from his wallet handed it to the piano player.
"Night and Day," he said by way of request.
"We just played it," said the manager.
"Play it again," said Harvey. Then, in his best Bogart : "You know what I want to hear. You played it for her, you can play it for me."
The band manager stared at him blankly, having no idea that he was in the middle of a movie quote-off. Had he ever seen Casablanca, perhaps he would have appreciated it. Still, he took the money and signaled the band, and they played "Night and Day" once more.
While he listened, Harvey watched Jessica disappeared along the meandering path that lead to where her car waited.
"Another time, then."
END
Hope you like it. If you were moved at all, I hope you'll leave a review. Jarvey today, Jarvey tomorrow, Jarvey forever.
Next story: "The Choice:" Forstman escapes and comes looking for Harvey.