Notes:
I did something weird. Thought I would try something different.
I wrote this, a Post-5.16 Fic and 'The World As We Know It' side by side. See them as a Series.
One is what happens, and one is an alternative to what happens.
I'm going to try and release chapters at the same time.
Feed the kitty if you like!
Atheniandream_ xox
The New World Order
By Atheniandream
Like looking in a broken mirror, all I now see are pieces of myself.
They had made a pact.
Two Sentences.
One Deal.
No absolution.
Only the promise,
That today would be the day that it would end.
All of it.
Their luck. Their waning winning streak.
The attacks on the firm.
The jeopardy surrounding their colleagues. The pressure on their family. Their friends.
All of it.
Ends now.
From this moment on,
In the life of one Harvey Specter and Mike Ross,
There is now,
A New World Order.
Love will never be a fact to us
Will never tell the truth to us
Since we're born to love
Isn't that enough?
-GOSTO 'Born to love no one'
Donna Paulsen:
When the door knocks, the sound slow and solemn, it's the first time that she truly dreads the prospect of opening it.
She knows what's coming. She's felt it all evening, like a whisper of a bad omen drifting towards her.
In all honesty, it's why she cancelled Mitchell for the fourth night running.
Why she is certain that she has to separate herself from him, now, too.
She hugs her wrap-around cardigan, her cold fingers slowly, almost reluctantly turning the latch.
When she opens the door, she's not at all surprised by who's behind it.
His face is unreadable, where only the distinct planes of his face remain. His mask is up once more, it seems, as she observes those dark pools staring back at her.
"Harvey...what's wrong?" She asks him, swallowing against the lofty bend in her stomach. Her eyes scan over his shirt. Unbuttoned at the neck, and no tie. Just like the night before. She can count the times he's come to her like this on one hand and still have a finger or two to spare…
"I made a deal." He tells her, his jaw twitching.
"And?" She offers, swallowing thickly as she feels her fingers bend around the jet black door frame.
"2 Years-"
It's like her ears are a vacuum, her eyes glazing over at his words as they fade slowly into her subconscious with a fortified heaviness. She sighs heavily, her fingers tightening around the door just to stop herself from bending to the uneasy feeling that returns in her gut.
"Donna." He placates, giving her a look that correctly insists that she let him pass into her apartment rather than fail him at the door with her reaction.
Her shoulders slump slightly in defeat as she wanders into the lounge, moving automatically to the kitchen as he closes the door quietly behind them.
He doesn't follow her completely.
She reasons that he is smart. Still in control of all his faculties as well...
It makes the quiet sob that falls out of her a much needed release. She grips onto the counter-top, her shoulders bending before she covers the action with a reach for the accessible amber-tainted liquor, her functionality overriding the wrought feelings inside of her.
When she returns to the lounge and his patient form - ever practised at giving him what he wants - with two half full glasses of Scotch and her best attempt at a game face, he can already see the objection brimming her eyes. A ghost of a whisper of that clenched feeling seeping out between them both into a silent objection.
"So…" She starts, her voice directing itself with the expertise of learned professionalism. "When are you going in?" She asks, swallowing the emotion that sets in, in favour of handing him the fuller glass that she's sure she'll regret letting go of.
"I asked her to give us the night." He answers simply, examining the glass in his hand.
"Us?" She frowns.
"Mike too." He corrects.
"Harvey?" Her eyes widen then, as the realisation collects together in her gut.
"Two Years each, and no one else at the firm - including you - is touchable after that." He states, before swallowing.
"Harvey...you said yourself that that wouldn't hold up. Do you really trust Anita Gibbs to keep her end of the bargain when you're both in jail?"
"At this point, Donna, I have no choice. We're not getting out of this...so…" He swallows the ambiguity in his voice as the edge of the glass reaches his dry lips.
"Harvey." She swallows his name, her mouth becoming thick with feeling once more.
"You can't talk me out of it, Donna."
Her eyes find his, as if she's pressing at the legitimacy of his words. She feels herself overcome again when she sees nothing but clarity in them. In fact, there's not a shred of doubt on his face. Just...a sadness. Sadness and tiredness and something else, something that's even before been directed at her.
A longing. A regret. And as soon as she catalogues it the expression is wiped from his face like an afterthought.
"Now...I have a little contingency. For you. Whilst I'm gone..." He continues. "So...just...hear me out," He requests.
It's enough to peak her interest, if it weren't for the sudden cloud forming over them.
"Okay...?" She asks, unsure as she sits up a little straighter, to shake that niggle of doubt that draws her intuition.
"We...get married." he says.
She blinks at first, the thread of silence in her focused solely on the oddly calm planes of his face.
He's not joking.
Quite the opposite...
"What? Harvey, we're not even...Harvey…That's ridiculous! I have...Mitchell...I" She swallows again, her face bending in disbelief.
"Donna."
Her eyes flick to his, only to see them tighten with a quiet pleading.
"Why would you even...?" She asks.
His face drops then into it's usual dryness. "Look, Donna, please don't ask me to explain it right now, I…" He says, looking away from her with a frustration.
"You're asking me to marry you, Harvey!?" She counters. "I think, all things considered, I deserve a little explanation!" She throws at him. "I mean...Harvey...I've always wanted to get married, but I thought that when it finally happened it would be to a rich investment banker, or maybe even...I don't know...my Boyfriend...at the time. Or...Mitchell. But sure as hell not to my Lawyer Boss!" She huffs, shaking her head.
It's absurd, the entire idea. And borders on a cruel assumption fit to lock away with all the others that he's made over the last decade...
"Aren't you forgetting Managing Partner of a law firm?" He interjects, forcing a hard quality out of her.
How he is even able to make a joke at this time is beyond her.
"And a convicted criminal." She plays heavily, giving him a bold look. "On the eve of his upcoming two years in federal prison." She sighs, taking in the moment. "Harvey...this is...not one of your better ideas."
"Donna…Hear me out." He sits forward, his hands sliding closer towards hers as his face hardens in the concentration of thought. "Look. If I'm in there, you know I won't be able to protect you out here..."
"I'm not a china doll, Harvey." She tells him, withdrawing from his closeness as her back settles against the couch. "I'm an adult capable of looking after herself, okay?"
When she sighs, finally, she tries not to linger on the strange softness of his stare.
"I know that. But this ensures that where I'm concerned, they can't ever touch you." He assures.
"They? Or anybody?" She fires at him.
The look she gives him twists his face in one fluid motion, as it tilts to the side, trying to read her. "Donna…It's not...about that, I..."
"I really can't believe you're asking me to do this." She exclaims, as her arms flap about her sides. "You're insane." She tells him.
"Donna...I just want to keep you safe. To keep you from being forced into a position because of what you know. That's all. Besides…you'll have control over all my assets whilst I'm gone. You can...hold the fort for me. Till I get back." He encourages.
"Oh…so this is all really so I can do your bidding on the outside?" Her eyebrow twitches to match the vibrant conviction in her eyes.
His face crinkles in reply, his shoulders slumping slightly as the defeat lines the plains of his face. "Donna...it's not like that and you know it." He says heavily. "Look...just see it as a temporary security measure." He offers.
"So, I'm a security risk, now?" She offers, giving him an antagonising look.
"Donna," He placates heavily, sighing as he reaches for the nearly empty glass.
She sighs then. She's picking a fight and she knows it.
But there are so many things wrong with this scenario.
Her sort-of boyfriend being one of them...
She straightens with a jolt when she feels his hand on hers, and only minorly distracted by the way he looks at her. "Donna, listen. I can't worry about them coming for you whilst I'm gone." He tells her. "And if there was any other way to ensure that, you know I would take it."
She turns away from him, her eyes focusing on a slightly imperfect patch of the wall next to her.
It makes an indirect kind of sense. When you numb the feeling and just think for a minute about the concept.
How he could be so selfish as to propose such a thing, at a time like this, she still can't quite quantify. She wonders if she'll ever get over it, or if it will be another bargaining chip she'll use one day to keep their 'situation' on an even keel.
If things ever go back to how they were, that is...
And she doesn't know what decides it. All she can feel is the sudden possibility of him being ripped from her side.
It's enough to make her forget the alien-ness of his request.
When she looks back at him there is an accusation all over her face, merely as a point of fact.
"I'm not wearing a ring." She states with a warning in her eyes.
"That's fine." He nods. "Me either." He half smirks.
"And I am not telling my parents. Or anybody, for that matter."
"Good." He agrees. "Unless...it's to get you out of a jam." He adds.
She sighs then, a distaste etching her features as she acknowledges the idea. "Like the entrance to all those members only restaurants…" She options, her playfulness beginning to peek out. "Or maybe…to get a little discount here or there."
"Funny." He says, a cat-like look of playfulness on his chiselled face. "Especially when you're still in possession of my credit card." He quips. He looks down at his pocket, feeling his phone vibrate in the pocket. "Speaking of privilege...we need to hustle if we're going to...you know." He offers, giving her a slightly uneasy look.
"What? Now?" She remarks, her eyes bulging as they struggle with the weight of his request. "Like...right now?"
"We don't want to keep my contact at City Hall waiting." He replies, making to stand. "Better put on something nice." He adds.
She gawps at him then, if only to allow adequate time to compose herself. "Harvey...this isn't a marriage. This is a business arrangement. And there are going to be conditions. Ones that I will decide after adequate time to think about them."
"Donna...I expect nothing less." He says evenly, sighing for what sounds like the first time since he arrived. "Now get dressed." He presses.
"This isn't a marriage." She repeats, her eyes widening over her shoulder.
"Doesn't mean you can't look pretty." He smirks, bending to finish his drink.
She's at a loss.
This is the kind of spontaneity that a woman doesn't look for.
The idea is mere madness.
But she's learnt over the years,
That Harvey only hits far out of the park for a very good reason.
She puts on a peach coloured dress, with a straight white coat.
It's casual but elegant and chic.
Her fingers are twitching the entire way there.
It's made worse by the fact that he's not saying a word. She looks over to see his own eyes, slightly glazed, flick to hers.
"What?" He asks, a slightly accented level of accusation in his words.
"Nothing." She says, looking away for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, before she's even able to finish the action she notices a crease in the fabric of his tie. He'd no doubt yanked the tie off before he'd arrived at hers, before deciding to remake it less than an hour after. She'd been too shaken to deal with him, to even touch him after he'd said what he'd said. She turns to him then, her hands sliding around the fabric.
It's automatic with them.
They are like push and pull.
Night and Day.
Light and Dark.
"Donna," He complains, his hands raising in protest.
"Harvey," She placates, giving him a warning look. "We're about to get married. And besides...this is your last suit for a loonnnng while."
It takes him about a second to back off, as he quietly watches her, his eyes softening and his grimace lessening in the wake of her, concentrating in front of him.
The weight of her words hit her when her hands slide away from the silk.
Harvey Specter is about to be caged. Locked far away from her care.
She chews on her lip, the rising feeling in her gut pushing the words up.
"We're here." He interrupts, sliding out of the car in one fluid motion.
She swallows, nodding.
Mike Ross
He's been watching his fiancée for over half an hour now.
She had skipped the crying phase, and instead transferred immediately to the silent phase.
Or so he thinks.
He's said everything that he can. With as much clarity as he could muster.
His process.
His reasoning.
His guilt.
Still, she just...sits there. Silent. Blinking.
He can't quite work out if she is so livid that she's catatonic, or if she is unnervingly calm in a pseudo-supportive kind of way.
He watches quietly, on the precipice of a question he's too scared to hear the answer to, as she quietly breathes in, holding the breath for a number of seconds, before breathing calmly out.
She looks beautiful, and dangerous.
"Rach...please...just...say something." He asks, exasperated as he stands up from the couch.
He paces for a moment, before looking down at her, watching as her almond eyes flick finally to his.
"Mike...you just volunteered to go to jail. I..." She says carefully, a notable pressure in her voice. "There are no words."
"There must be words!" He demands, the frustration peeling out of his chest and into an arm gesture. "Look," He says, zoning in on her. "I don't care what they are...just...please, say something."
"What about our wedding?" She asks him pointedly, her voice starting to shed it's resolve.
"I…." He rubs his hands through his hair as his stomach drops in the realisation.
The wedding.
He hadn't thought. He didn't think...he assumed.
"I didn't think...you would want one...with your parents being how there are right now, and Harvey and I,"
"That's it." She fires, looking to him.
"What?"
"Did you even think of me in all of this?"
"Rachel. You're all that I ever think about, but." He says then, darting back over to her. When he sits beside her again she is still detached, still physically distant. "This is a chance for everyone to get out of this...intact…I"
"You mean, for you to…"
"No." he argues. "All of us. This ensures that no one can ever touch you. Not you. Not The firm. Not anybody."
"Mike," She stands then, a spikiness in her gait. "If you think for a second that you and Harvey are the only people who are going to suffer in this, then I guess I'm the foolish one," She tells him. "Because I thought you knew better. I thought you...were going to think about US in this." She sneers, a tear trickling down her face.
It's that look. He knows that look. It's the broken dam holding up a torrent that could squash him in mere seconds.
"Rach,"
"Don't 'Rach' me." She spits at him. "Going to jail is admitting TO THE WORLD that you did this!" She shouts at him.
"I DID DO THIS!" He shouts back.
Her face bends, but only enough for a fraction of a second. "Don't you see? You admitting this will let everybody will know that the two of you did this, and then they'll know that we ALL knew."
"It doesn't matter, they can't," He fumbles over the words, as her voice crashes down over his.
"Our Clients will know, Mike! Associates will talk. The city will know that Pearson Specter Litt is just as guilty as the two of you."
"That's not true."
"If you think that what you're doing is noble, Mike, then you're wrong. What you and Harvey are doing is condemning us all before even having the decency to roll the dice. We may as well all go down now."
"Rachel, I."
"I'm sorry Mike. But I...can't be near you right now. I need some space." She breaks before she's able to shut the door behind herself.
He doesn't follow. He's at odds with the reason why.
It is the gut punch to end the worst of days.
He realises then,
In a chasm of silence,
That if it weren't for Harvey,
He'd be completely alone.
Notes: Okay. Trying a slightly different version of Rachel.
I'm tired of her crying so I need to see the more Jessica side of her. It's in there. I'm sure it will develop, but it won't be with the show I'll wager.
