Down To The Second
Pairing: Darvey established (CANON :D)
Summary: While Harvey and Samantha are out of the office closing a deal, Donna finds out she's pregnant but before she can break the news a disgruntled ex-client comes in looking for Harvey- leaving her and Alex at his mercy.
AN: This isn't going to be a long story, just needed something to channel my angst in-between the fluff haha.
Right down to the minute, right down to the second.
I can feel my every breath unfold. - Zach Berkman
･ﾟ: *･ﾟ:･ﾟ:･ﾟ
Time slows to a crawl as Donna drops the receiver back into its cradle, staring at the phone as the air thins punching in and out of her lungs.
Pregnant.
It seems impossible and her fingers grip the desk curling tightly as the reality sinks in.
Technically it is possible.
She's been on the pill for years but a few absent minded mornings caught up in the rush of Harvey's persuasive nature (and her own) they'd taken a few chances here and there. Maybe it should have occurred to her sooner but given their age she'd thought having a baby would take work, like with Louis, and the room spins as another wave of nausea hits her. This time she doesn't know if it's morning sickness or fear but the latter explains why she's been feeling off these last couple of weeks and she reaches for handbag dragging it closer, stopping herself from reaching inside with a slow exhale.
It's Memorial Day and both Harvey and Samantha are forgoing the holiday to close a deal with a client, the importance of the meeting keeping her from making the call. She has no idea how Harvey's going to react and her hesitation weighs in on the decision, urging her hand back to smooth down the bunched fabric at her stomach.
They've talked about kids, sort of... the conversation coming up every now and again but they didn't plan for this and she closes her eyes briefly, opening them to the shadow of a man exiting the lift. There's no one on the floor except for herself and Alex, everybody else taking the much needed break, and confusion swamps the panic stirring through her. There's no reason for anyone else to be up here and she lifts from the chair, taking a quick breath as she moves to the door seeking out the distraction. "Excuse me..." she leans against the frame, her gaze washing over the back of his suit, "can I help you with something?"
He turns sharply, his features tight with annoyance and the hairs along her neck stand on edge as she takes him in. Judging by his appearance he hasn't just wandered up from another floor. From the front he seems rougher than expected, his tie hanging at an odd angle over his untucked shirt and she can smell the faint hint of whiskey hanging in the air between them. It makes her instantly uneasy, his cold voice sending a shiver ricocheting down her spine.
"I'm looking for Harvey Specter."
She folds arms across her stomach not sure if it's maternal or just normal instinct kicking in but she holds her ground firming her tone, "our offices are closed today, he isn't working."
The man sneers, stumbling as he glances around before yanking his gaze back to her. "You really expect me to believe that asshole takes holidays."
The aggression prompts her own wave of anger but she keeps it in check not wanting to make things worse. Beneath his disheveled hair and five-o'clock shadow he seems like a well-kept man, obviously takes care of himself, and there's every chance he's just drunk and looking to blow off steam. "I appreciate you came all this way-" she reasons, calmly trying to diffuse the situation, "and if you want to leave a message I'll make sure he gets it."
"You a lawyer?"
The question slurs slightly and she shakes her head, grateful Harvey isn't here but silently wishing he was. "No, I'm not."
A bitter laugh coils in his throat, the toes of his shoes spinning around the floor again. He might of had a few but he still managed to talk his way up, skating his way passed the skeleton crew at reception, and he isn't an idiot. If she's not a lawyer then she has to be a secretary or something which means she either knows where the prick is or he's nearby. "If it's all the same with you I think I'll wait."
She's ready to tell him there's no point but he parts his jacket revealing the barrel of gun and fear knots in her throat rendering her silent. She can't breathe, cant think, but he motions to her office and she doesn't have any other choice but to back inside on unsteady legs. There's nowhere else to go. She's effectively trapped and hits her chair, knees buckling as she sinks into it- the brief moment of reprieve steadying her courage. "What do you want?"
He shrugs a hand up through his hair, grief blinding him to the recklessness of taking a hostage. He doesn't want to hurt her but he will if that's what it takes. He wants Harvey Specter to bear the consequences of his action- with blood, and when he spots a bottle of whiskey on her shelf he pushes toward it. "Clive Mahoney, name ring a bell?" He tests her with the information because why the fuck not. He's ready to suffer his own consequences and wants to see if his wife, the reason why he's here, actually meant something to the firm or was just a passing case that no one gives a shit about anymore.
It does and Donna wracks her brain trying to place where she knows it but can't. The details are buried beneath her anxiety, the panic rushing through her, and she flinches as he takes a swig straight from the bottle of Macallan putting her even more on edge. Harvey might not be here now but he will be at some point and despite the danger she's in she can't help the desperate urge to protect him. "I can help you, if you'd just-"
"You like to fucking talk don't you?" He cuts her off, swiveling and spitting a look of disgust that has nothing to do the bitter taste burning his mouth. She spends every day in the same office as a man he can't physically stand. They're probably even friends and the thought makes him sick to his stomach. He lost his wife because of the smug, arrogant asshole and he's about to unleash the fact when he notices the slight shake of her head directed over his shoulder.
He trails the movement to the door, landing on a black man in a suit and goddammit he's really getting sick of people screwing this up.
It was supposed to be simple; walk in and blow Harvey Specter to Kingdom come, screw everything else... but there's every chance Red tipped off the guy and he slams down the bottle going for his gun and wrenching the door open.
"How many more fucking people on this floor?" He demands, jabbing the weapon and forcing the man inside.
Alex backs against the desk, his mind struggling to catch up with what's going on. Donna is behind him, the flat surface separating them, and he raises his palms trying to temper the aggression he's facing off against. "It's just us, I swear."
"If you're lying..." Clive slurs the warning, blinking away a sudden rush from the alcohol but it doesn't stop his anger only riles it further. "Harvey Specter-" he snaps, reaching for the whiskey again, "when's he coming back?"
Alex hesitates not sure how to answer, the reaction flashing in his expression, and he knows he gives away more than Donna did because the man's attention instantly shifts fixating on her.
"You stupid bitch." The bottle slips from his grasp smashing as it hits the floor and he glares at her, frustration pulsing through his veins, "not working my ass-"
He lunges forward and Alex doesn't think at all this time, gripping the mans's arm and receiving a sharp blow to his temple for the interception. Dizziness mixes with Donna's shout, his vision swimming as be stumbles back landing heavily on the floor.
He tries to push himself up but his arms fail at the attempt and darkness pulls him into oblivion, the world crashing down around him.