Ready for some more holiday cheer? Make sure to leave a little something for Santa and let them know your thoughts.
.
Requested by bassempire- Harvey gets an invite to attend a Christmas party at one of his billionaire clients' chalets. He brings Donna as a last minute +1 because Louis was supposed to come, but Sheila goes into labour early. Of course they get stuck in a snowstorm and their car breaks down. They try to find shelter, because it's cold and of course they don't have any phone reception, maybe on their way to finding shelter, Donna falls and twists her ankle. The rest is up to the writer, but would like things to heat up from there
Story by: Blue (/u/2603567/AlternateShadesofBlue)
Opportunity has been dropped in his lap by way of changed plans. Like a case giving him the clear path he'd been waiting for. It's scaring the shit out of him.
Ask him what he'd been waiting for and he couldn't give the answer. He doesn't know for sure. Guarantees? Or just a sign from her that told him he shouldn't be terrified. Of asking for more. Of challenging the things she'd said. Things she'd always said.
She's engrossed in her work when he approaches her office, looking stunning in a black dress that dipped just low enough in the front for him to see a peppering of freckles on her chest. He's out of better moments; all patience run dry.
He steps inside and smiles. "Hey."
She looks up from her screen, the corners of her lips pulling up softly. "Hey back."
He sits in front of her desk, resting a leg on his opposite knee. "What are you doing this weekend?"
She's reading his face. "You're not taking away my Saturday." Her eyes go back to her screen.
His lips smash together, forever impressed with how she does that. "How would you like an extra long weekend instead?"
She sighs, pushing the device closed. "What do you want, Harvey?"
"We have a client that wants us at their event."
"Us?"
He nods. It isn't a lie. They just didn't indicate her specifically.
She pauses, thoughts obviously turning. "You and Louis were supposed to go on that ski trip. You're not pawning it off on me."
"Which is why I said us."
She narrows her eyes. "Why isn't Louis going?"
"Sheila might be in labor."
"It's too early."
"No, he gave us later dates. Something about Sheila feeling like a ticking time bomb."
Her shoulders fall. "Harvey, then neither of us can leave. We should be here for this."
"I said the same thing. But apparently he and Sheila want time to bond with the baby for a bit." He leans back. "You won't miss anything, and we'll have our phones."
"I don't know."
"Come on. A luxury ski trip? The long weekend?"
She shakes her head. "I was looking forward to relaxing with a book. And I can arrange those things myself now you know."
"A trip to Hermes?"
She raises her brow.
"We could get shoes too?" he tries.
"You realize I can provide all your bargaining chips these days."
"Couldn't you always?" He bends his head. "I thought you just liked me spending money on you."
She's biting back a grin and he loves what it does to her lips.
"You can borrow my Hampton house," he offers, knowing none of these things are why she'll do it. They do this. He used to think she was really swayed by the bribing but more recently the things they did when it counted told a different truth.
She presses her lips together, and he can tell he's close.
He locks in. "Twice. And I'll cover anything you need for an extra week off next year."
"You mean you'll pay someone else to?"
He shrugs.
"Fine. But I still get the handbag. And the shoes."
His eyes move counter-clockwise as he shakes his head, not daring to argue. He doesn't mind extra plans with her.
"Do I have my own suite?" She raises a brow.
He bites the inside of his cheek. "Is it contingent on you saying yes?"
"What do you think?"
"I'm sure you could take Louis's. Though…"
"What?"
He swallows back his hesitation. "I thought sharing one might be fun."
"Harvey."
"What? I'm sure they have two bedroom suites. The time together could be nice."
"You really want to spend an entire weekend in an enclosed space with me?"
"Isn't that what we used to do every day? I kinda miss it," he admits.
"We had separation between us you know," she points out, a slight blush on her cheeks as she turns her head.
"With glass." He bites his lip and he's staring at her. "You don't ever? Miss the time we got together?"
"You annoy me plenty from afar too."
He smiles, but he's not sure how much he means it. She's not as excited about the plan as he'd hoped and he wonders what else he might be misjudging.
Her eyes trace his face, thoughtful. "See if they have a larger suite available."
He can't contain his grin, breathing a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what the weekend would bring, but what would happen is more time together, which they'd been letting slide for too long.
.
The resort is out of two room suites. Louis had canceled a couple weeks before and never mentioned it. The plan is to get there as soon as they can Friday in case someone cancels. One bed in a cozy and romantic suite lingers in the back of Donna's mind as the weekend approaches.
Harvey shows up almost two hours late to pick her up Friday afternoon because of a last minute client issue, dressed in a gray sweater over a button shirt and casual slacks with an apology on his face. She's not sure if she accepts it because of the sincerity in his expression or the way his casual look makes her want to. He helps her load and they're on their way.
Once they're out of the city, he glances over to her, eyes scanning. She's wearing a charcoal sweater and a pair of fitted jeans with tall boots. Not revealing or overly sexy but his reaction makes her flush anyway. It shouldn't. Sometimes he noticed her sexuality.
And they'd traveled together before. Lines between them had become less challenged in recent months. No late night phone calls, less drinks, and not allowing her thoughts to linger on him when he flirted, which somehow left her even less sure. A kiss that almost lost each other. Blurry lines pointed out somehow made the lines more solid but her resolve less.
She's thankful for skiing, ice skating, a heated Jacuzzi, and spa facilities to distract her if all the togetherness becomes... too much.
The weather conditions do nothing to help the unsettled feeling in her gut. A storm is approaching in the east, leaving traffic and conditions a mess.
"You know we might not even make it," she blurts out after seeing a line of red on the highway ahead on her mapping app.
"There are alternate routes you know." He's calm. Too calm.
"And what if we don't have reception? With Louis and Sheila about to have the baby—"
"Donna, are you wanting to turn back?"
She looks over to him. Knowing all her obvious reasons for saying yes are valid but feeling something larger driving her fear. Him being unaffected makes her doubt any answer. "Do you?" she challenges.
"No, I think we'll be fine." His tone is almost soothing.
Which is leaving her anything but. She turns her head back to the road in front of them, attempting to settle more comfortably into her seat. If he isn't panicking, it makes her worries seem even more out of place.
She knows herself. It's not about wanting him. Or from them coordinating a single bed. It's more dangerous than that. The trip had the potential to combine the pressures at work with the unresolved pressures of them. Opportunity for new irritations, confronting unreturned emotions. Both reaching a height she couldn't dissipate. Her limit is close to being reached.
.
Traffic is now almost at a standstill, and being that they aren't close and already three hours into the drive, turning back seems just as much of a disaster as pushing ahead.
He's thumbing a beat to on the steering wheel to some nostalgic song, glancing to her sporadically during the chorus, instrumental and drums about regrets and familiarity that makes her heart long. It does nothing to settle her mind, which is currently stressing over the fully white mountains ahead.
He suddenly turns down the music, near silence filling the car. "Did Louis tell you his pick for the baby name?"
Her eyes widen and she turns to him. "He told you too? I have to believe Sheila's never going for Catniss."
"She agrees to all the cats?" he says. "He thought Hunger Games was a reality show."
"Louis." She shakes her head. "I suggested Peeta for the middle name."
Delighted amusement lights up his face. "Did he go for it?"
"He's worried kids might use Cat Pee for bullying."
"They might not be the only ones."
She's about to chastise him but the sound of him chuckling stops her. He's wearing the widest smile. It's been months since she's seen him this way. It settles nerves and makes her breathe deeper. His eye crinkles twinge something low in her stomach, making her press her legs together to make that reaction settle.
Darkness has taken over the sky, and lines of lights are entering on the next on-ramp.
"Shit," he says, frowning.
"We're going to be here all night."
"I'm taking an alternate route." He makes a quick change of lanes approaching the next off ramp.
"Harvey. We could get lost."
"We've got GPS."
"You're going to get us stuck in the snow."
"No, I'm not. It looks like just a smaller main road, we'll be okay."
"I swear to god Harvey, if we freeze to death…"
"Have I led you wrong before?"
She tilts her head, thinking up a list. Mike Ross seems cruel to begin with.
"Relax, Donna. You'll thank me when we get there."
.
Forty-five minutes later and they're pretty much the only ones on the alternate road. This would seem like a good thing, except the snow is coming down so hard visibility is near impossible and the curvy mountain roads are doing nothing to settle her queasy stomach. Trees and snow drifts line the increasingly elevated road.
"Harvey, we should stop."
"And lose all of this headway? We can't turn back now."
"No, we can't. But this isn't safe."
He sighs heavily and slows further, pulling them off to at the next turnout. He palm hits the steering wheel.
Her hand goes to her forehead. They have to be low on gas. They're in the middle of a mostly deserted, unplowed road. They could sit in the heated car for awhile, but soon they'd risk the snow filling the exhaust and killing them from carbon monoxide poisoning, which is perhaps an easier way to go than freezing to death.
"Don't say it," he warns.
"I wasn't going to. Yet."
He's staring ahead, his facial muscles tense.
"Any idea what we're going to do? Because if we stay here—"
"I know, okay? I know." He turns on his phone screen. "Goddammit."
"Let me guess? No service?"
"Yours?"
She shakes her head, looking at the screen. She reminds herself to breathe and begins wringing her hands to distract the growing panic she can't seem to manage or plan for. This is why she hated the unknowns.
His hand suddenly covers hers, stilling them. "Hey. I'll get us out of this. We're going to be okay."
She nods, even though she doesn't quite believe it. If there's anyone she'd want to be trapped with in a situation, it would be him. Scared or not. But that didn't solve the problem.
His hand pulls away.
"Any…?" she pauses.
"Ideas?"
She nods again.
"Uhhh." He rubs his face. "There was a driveway just a bit back with a mailbox. We can head there and hopefully they'll have a landline or something."
"Who exactly do you plan to call?"
"I don't know," he says with annoyance. "But maybe they will or they'll offer us an option for somewhere warm."
She avoids pointing out the fears running through her mind. Approaching some unsuspecting stranger's house in the dark, going inside, being at their full mercy with any number of weapons possibly on hand.
If anyone is even home. Not to mention the walking distance in this active snowstorm, or the fact despite warm coats they're not dressed for this weather. She can't decide if this is closer to a horror movie or adventure drama and neither are her favorite genres.
They decide to leave luggage and just stuff important items in their coat pockets. Phone, keys, wallet, chargers. She's happy at least the snow isn't super packed. It's slippery, but she's mostly able to keep her footing. They're getting wet and frozen before they even make it to the driveway, which must be close to half a mile back. Once they finally arrive to the incline is steep.
She looks to him, nervous. He scoops his arm under hers and grabs her hand, while they step up along the side.
Each step is precarious. Every move up slides her feet back and deep into snow. She's wobbly. Her breath is panting. They're almost there.
She steps down and her foot hits the edge of something hard and she slips, her ankle bending beneath her. She cries as she's falling to the snowy ground.
He's on his knees next her her in a second. "You okay?"
She tries to move her leg and knows right away 'okay' isn't the word she'd use. It feels stiff with piercing pain. "I think I twisted it."
"Shit." He's helping her move it, applying pressure and focused on her response.
She has motion, but it hurts. The icy snow has soaked through her jeans to her skin. She's burning and numb. A panic builds, ridiculous thoughts of being permanently stuck race through her head. Everything seems insurmountable. The walk. The cold. Getting help.
The house is still a distance beyond the driveway. He stares down at her and then toward the house.
Her eyes fall closed. "Maybe you should go ahead. You can come back." She's shaking, she's not sure from cold, pain, or stress but they're getting nowhere with her like this.
"No. You're freezing. I'll help you."
He pulls her up. She can manage weight on it, painfully. He lifts her arm around his shoulders, holding her around the back. She's relieved he's helping. They hobble up the path, until they finally reach the porch. He lifts her over the steps.
There's a cross above the door, and a sign that reads God Bless This Humble Home. She's not sure if it makes her feel safer or worse.
"Uh, Donna? Whatever happens, just go along with it."
Before she can ask he knocks and in less than a minute a small older man pulls back the door just a few inches, with an even shorter woman peeking from under his armpit. They're somewhere close to sixty-something, with graying hair and clothes that look like they're from an LL Bean catalog.
"Can I help you?" the man asks.
Harvey clears his throat. "I hope so. My wife and I were on our way from Manhattan to a Christmas event at Lake Placid and the snow got too bad to drive in. She fell and hurt her ankle, and we don't have phone service. I was hoping maybe you had a landline or something to get some help?"
Donna's eyes have widened, and she's trying really hard to keep an even face. Wife?
"We do, but you're not going to get help out here tonight. They'll clear the roads when the weather lets up."
Harvey frowns. "Any idea when that might be?"
The couple's lips press together in matching sympathy, and they're shaking their heads.
Harvey looks to Donna, sighing. The knot in her chest tightens.
"Got any suggestions for us? By the way, I'm Harvey, and this is Donna."
His wife. Her lungs burn from the air she draws in to nearly choke.
"Nice to meet you both. I'm Bob and this is Pammy."
They've exchanged handshakes, and the old man turns and stares into the eyes of the woman beside him for a moment, some obvious silent communication passing between them. "We've got a small guest house out back. It's not much but it would be a place to stay for the night and get you out of those icy clothes."
Harvey looks to Donna and she nods. "That's... more than we could ask for."
"Thank you," Donna offers warmly.
"Do you have fresh clothes?" Pammy asks.
"Our luggage is back in the car." Harvey rubs the back of his neck. "Maybe I can get her comfortable and go back to get it."
"I don't suggest you trek back out in this. Pammy and I can come up with enough for you both tonight. Hopefully tomorrow the weather will let up and I'll help you get your things. Let's focus on getting you both warm before you catch cold."
Bob quickly pulls on winter gear and grabs a flashlight. They slowly walk down the porch steps, visibility rough as they circle around the modest cabin home.
Donna's struggling. Wet, shivering, and tensing every time she puts weight on her leg. Harvey suddenly stops and circles her. She furrows her brow and then he lifts her in his arms bridal style.
"Harvey!"
"It's only a bit farther and you're in pain."
"You don't know that and we don't need both of us injured!"
"It's only forty feet or so," Bob offers.
Harvey walks slowly and she sighs.
She knows it's slippery, they're both soaked and cold. He can probably barely see between the wind and the snow in his face. She's got to be awkward to carry with the puffy wet coat.
Such a hero complex.
She nearly gasps each time he steps, an unsure drop as they sink into the snow. Her arms wrap tighter around his neck as her only means of support, her face buried into his shoulder. Her breath evens. He does make her feel safe.
They're safe. Together. Even if he let her down, he always managed to come through with a safety net.
They reach a small building, looking not much bigger than a wooden shed. Bob opens the weathered door with a key, then lets Harvey and Donna in first. It's not any warmer, but at least they're indoors.
Bob closes the door, then fidgets with a plug. A tabletop Christmas tree illuminates the room with tiny colorful lights. There's a star is on top and it's decorated with multicolored shiny bulbs. "It's not much but it's a little cheer."
Harvey sets Donna down on a bed.
Real wood paneling lines the walls, and a faint smell of cedar fills the room. There's a tiny kitchen at the far end, with not much else in the room other than the bed barely big enough for two, and a pair of armchairs in front of a wood burning stove.
Bob looks around. "Everything's fairly clean. We had it ready for my son and his wife coming next week. Let me get the heat going and show you how it works. I don't suppose you city folk have used a wood burning stove before?"
"No. I've started a few campfires," Harvey offers.
"Well, you should manage, then. I'd get out of those coats." Bob kneels down in front of the stove and opens it up, placing some crumpled paper inside. "So the two of you are from New York City? What do you do?"
"We uh, both help run a law firm together." Harvey kneels in front of her, helping her out of her coat and removing his. His voice is low. "Maybe I should rush him out of here and you can get out of the rest of these."
She shakes her head, whispering firmly, "No. They're helping and you can't kick him out. The fire should help."
Harvey's face tenses. He pulls a throw blanket over her shoulders.
"You're both attorneys then?" Bob asks.
"I'm a named partner and she's COO."
"Family business?"
Harvey meets her eyes, wearing a faint smile. "Something like that."
"You been running it long?" Bob adds kindling and lights the fire.
"We've been working together for over thirteen years now," Donna answers. "But the promotions came more recently." She tries to ignore how tired she feels from the shivering.
Bob eyes them both curiously. "Congratulations." He adds some wood to the fire, explaining how to keep it going.
Soon petite Pammy bursts in with snow following after her, arms loaded with plastic bags. "Help me, Bob, will you?" Bob gets up from the fire and quickly grabs the bags she hands over and sets them on the counter. "There's homemade lasagna in there, plus things for breakfast. Snacks. Extra bedding and PJs. New toothbrushes." She lists it all rapidly, looking over Donna. She hands Harvey a bag. "Just things to hold you over. The rest you'll need should be in the bathroom. The bedding is clean."
"Thank you again, really," Donna says.
"Sorry for the humble accommodations," Bob says.
"It's better than our alternatives. Harvey and I are used to being in small places together." They meet eyes again, and his crinkle just the faintest bit.
"Oh yeah, those small apartments in the city," Bob says.
"Something like that," she repeats Harvey's response with a smile.
"Well, hurry and get her out of those clothes and into the tub. The water heater's not huge but you could share to manage," Pammy says.
Her lips fall open.
"Oh, don't worry about keeping warm in the nature way out here. We don't mind." Pammy's eyes are sparkling.
"Pammy," Bob scolds.
"What? They're married." She scoffs and then leans her head in like she's about to tell a secret. "You know, two of our kids were born in the fall because of winter storms."
Donna feels a breath catch in her throat, nearly choking. "That won't be a worry."
Bob and Pammy's brows are drawn together.
Harvey clears his throat.
"My hurt leg," Donna amends.
Pammy frowns, seeming disappointed.
Bob does a light nod. "Let's hurry and leave these two alone."
Pammy looks over her shoulder as Bob is pulling her out. "Ice her ankle when she gets warmed up. And there's some Motrin in the cabinet. You two make yourselves at home!".
Donna sighs as soon as they're gone.
He's in front of her, scanning her over and frowning. "Let's get you to the bath."
She looks to the distance, her leg already swelling and throbbing in her boot.
"Let me carry you?"
She nods, too cold to argue and he scoops her up.
"Did you just threaten to withhold sex with your pretend husband?" he asks with humor in his voice.
"My pretend husband promised me a billionaire ski vacation with a Christmas party and a two bedroom suite."
He bites his lip, bumping the door with his shoulder and pausing with a smirk. "Is this so bad?"
"If I get warm, no." She settles challenging eyes on him. "Married, Harvey? Really?"
He steps inside a small room, leaning against a switch to turn it on. "You saw the signs on their door. I wanted to make sure we didn't get hassled."
"Well if you ask me, Pammy didn't seem concerned about fornication."
He stands a little straighter, wearing a mischievous grin. "Can you blame her?"
Donna wants to make a crack to knock him down a peg but is suddenly feeling extra jittery, and her eyes start to close.
"Hey! You okay?" Harvey's head tilting with eyes set on her.
"Just cold, Harvey."
He sets her down on lid of the toilet, kneeling by her foot.
Before she can comment he's pulling down the zipper of her boot. Hands delicately slide the leather down her calf. The force and maneuvering needed to remove the heel makes her cry out. He winces, giving her an apologetic look, then removes the second one and then her damp socks.
Water and snow drip on the rug below. He carefully raises the hem of her pants, examining her leg. His fingertips begin smoothing over aching skin, pressing in and testing. She can see him frowning. Commenting on bruises and swollen skin. If not for the discomfort of her injury, she'd almost forget why he's touching her, something intoxicating about his soft touch and intense focus.
Her chest sinks with a longing she hates. It takes something stressful between them to get this close. Her insides ache, to add to her current torment. She notices he's watching her, attuned to her reaction.
He frowns, looking away, then stands and steps to the tub, turning on the faucet. His head turns toward her, not quite looking while he feels the water. "You uh, going to need help?"
The tenseness in his body is revealing he's as nervous as she is.
"Maybe. My fingers are hurting and numb." She pauses as he turns and steps up to her.
He swallows.
The thing is, maybe she doesn't. Of course she can use the help to make it easier. But she knows if he wasn't here, maybe she could manage all of this with slightly more effort and pain. Something about him caring for her made things in her body come alive she'd rarely let herself feel.
Need. Not necessarily arousal, but arousing the feeling of letting him lead. Being vulnerable with him. Fleeting opportunity in an isolated space. She smooths out her hair, decision set. "Can you bring a towel?"
He nods and grabs one, moving back to her. He's close enough to feel like an anchor and she's sure she's wild at sea.
Their eyes meet and he reaches down, hot breath against her cheek. His fingers loop under her sweater and he pulls it up until it's over her head, her hair falling back to her shoulders. She's left in a white tank. Her nipples are almost painfully erect and she's sure he can see them. His eyes linger then quickly dart away.
She uses the sides of the wall to brace herself up. Her skin almost burns because despite the fire going it hasn't reached the room. She helps him remove her undershirt next, the backs of his cool fingers tracing up her sides, leaving her skin jumpy and tingling.
He's close. Too close. Not close enough for their chests to touch, but close enough he's watching her eyes as he unhooks the clasp of her bra. Her lips part but before she fully processes he's handing her the towel.
She's topless, shivering, and quickly wrapping the terry around her chest.
He's still as stone when he lifts the towel enough to reach the top of her pants. He fidgets with the button and she feels like a jerk for not considering how cold he must be too. The zipper is lowered and the band at her waist loosens. His fingertips hook under it, brushing the bare skin on her sides. He works them down around her hips and ass, his face ending level with hers when he follows them. He pauses there for a moment, his chest rising and falling.
His eyes close. "Donna…"
"It's okay."
Her panties don't slip as easily as her pants. Delicate lace fabric needing coaxing over the curve of her ass. His knuckles brush as he follows the path, fabric lightly stimulating as it reveals wanting skin. The heat pools between her legs, in opposition to her frozen skin.
Maybe she'd accept anything he asked of her right now. And it feels like cheating herself in some way. Not demanding more from him, the more maybe she'd been searching for all along.
At that moment she doesn't care. She's freezing and needing warmth, jittery and needing something to hold on to, and terrified of every move. Because she wants all from him and he doesn't. She's teasing herself just to have it ripped away in the end.
Suddenly his hands are gone, towel fallen back in place, and he's stepped back slightly. Her body feels emptier without him as close.
The towel isn't covering much more than high on her thighs. He's paused, eyes on hers while he kneels down at her feet. His face is close enough to kiss her thighs and it's almost more than she can take not to lean into the want.
"Harvey." She wants to plead, but she doesn't know the wish yet. This feels like crossing a line between them, one she's sure will only hurt. She doesn't care as much about her naked body, as exposing herself to feelings of him seeing her this way.
"I wasn't planning on..." he pauses, sighing.
"I know. It's not...I trust you. It's just…"
"Beyond our usual?"
"Yeah."
They're both looking away suddenly. She sinks to sit. Then he works off her pants and panties the rest of the way. She hasn't felt more awkward and alert between her legs, with him as the cause, probably ever.
He quickly stands, placing the items unfolded on top of her others in the basket beside them.
He tests the tub then helps her in, offering his hands. The water is hot, not scalding but stingy to her cool skin. She invites the shock, wants to sink into it.
The towel is the final obstacle. "I can manage from here. With the sides of the tub."
"Okay." He's staring before he looks away again. "Good. Call me if you need me? And… to get out."
She nods.
He walks to the door.
"Harvey?"
He turns, something shy but hopeful in his eyes.
"What about you? I know you're freezing."
He scratches the back of his neck. "Not as much as you think."
And then he's gone. As she situates in the water she wonders if the reason his chill had faded was similar to the reason her skin felt so flushed despite the cold.