I have an obsession with these two, I feel this amazing chemistry between them and it seems, to me, they'd be like vinegar and baking soda together. Enough of my incoherent ramblings... I present my first multi-chapter fic. Unfortunately I don't own these beautiful creatures or this amazing show.
Seeing for the First Time.
The first time he'd felt the surge was the time 'Mr Perfect' read the ex- husband, had come looking for help. He'd touched her, kissed her hands and she'd smiled, actually smiled! She hadn't seemed uncomfortable or even irritated, which was her usual reaction to someone unpleasant. He thought he'd had an apoplexy, hell; he couldn't touch her like that! He didn't need reminding of the last time his brain temporarily shut down when they touched.
It had been five months before, a Thursday night, they were at the finish line with a huge class action against a hospital that didn't seem to want to treat a certain type of patient no matter how good their credit, or how deep their pockets. It was the final sprint and they'd been pulling fifteen hour work days, well technically Jessica had, his were more around the thirteen or twelve hour mark. The associates' bull pen had developed an unpleasant musk in the air from the number of all nighters most of them had been pulling.
But I digress; the pressure was so much that Jessica had just appeared in his office and without a word, plopped down one of his chairs. She sat looking at his collection of record, seemingly spaced out. He'd looked at her for close to a minute and decided to go back to work when she still hadn't uttered word, sometimes with Jessica you could only wait. That time he didn't wait long.
"An old fashioned would be great right about now," she said resting her gaze on him.
"O'Reilly's?" he asked an eyebrow quirking up. It was this obscure place they'd found together, their hideout of sorts... they'd be just two high powered New York attorneys in a forgettable bar having a totally unforgettable time.
"You're the disease and I'm the cure," she said a twinkle in her eye.
"This is where the law stops and I start," he replied, smirking, as he leaned back in his chair. "This is going to be fun," he continued, slipping on his jacket as they stood to leave, "Cobra and a good ol' fashioned." They walked to her office so she could get her purse, going back and forth with other Stallone classics.
By the time they'd gotten down to their fifth drink Jessica had totally relaxed, her jacket off, she was tucked away with her feet under her, all nice and cozy in the booth and he realised just how much they'd needed the break. He'd rolled up his sleeves, beginning to warm up as soon as he'd taken his drink.
"I think we might be taking this break a little too seriously," Harvey had said, face straight as an arrow and they both burst into laughter.
"Says my single most pain-in-the-ass employee," she had said still laughing, the warmth of it wrapping around him and engulfing him much more than the alcohol coursing steadily through his veins.
"I remind you of Louis," he'd countered with his most convincing attempt at puppy dog eyes. His mind started to wonder to how much he'd love to make her melt with just_
"Harvey, did you hear what I said?" she'd asked her eyes glued to him, a look of mild annoyance flashing across her face. This is what he loved about their little sojourns to this bar, her ability to really relax here so that he could see the faintest traces of emotions flitting across her face.
She had said his name again more insistent the second time. He remembered having to consciously stop the wheels in his mind from turning.
"Ah I think we should call it a night," he'd said, embarrassed as usual at the fact that he seemed to be such a lightweight compared to her.
"Pussy," she'd mouthed at him then said aloud, "since I expect you bright and early tomorrow I guess it's only fair I let you get your beauty sleep," with a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Her lips had been stained red, most of the glossy part on the rim of her tumbler, and he'd gone down the road of how it might feel to be that rim, how soft and moist they would_
"Okay we need to go now," he'd said standing up and turning back to get his jacket, having forgotten it in his haste to leave to get away.
Then it happened.
She'd reached out a perfect hand to grasp his arm.
His sleeves still rolled up, he'd felt the perfect softness of her skin against his own, her palm not cold, sweaty or clammy but warm and inviting. He'd been transfixed by the sight, her beige skin contrasting perfectly with his.
He'd raised his eyes to hers and that was it.
He had no other weakness than the depths of her eyes. It was his quicksand but even though he didn't struggle he was always consumed so absolutely by them and the thought of kissing her was forming in his mind, growing reaching its tentacles further into his mind...
"Harvey we need to get the bill," she'd said then removed her hand to get her things too. The hand on his arm had been there no more than ten seconds and he hadn't breathed during any of them. He'd first tried to blame it on the The Macallan but he'd known deep down inside.
He was in trouble.