Like the Seasons, they change.

By Atheniandream


Author's note:

I had avoided watching the Premiere, because I knew it would throw up all sorts of negative literary reactions. But eventually I watched it. What was worse were the reactions of non shippers KNOWING that Darvey shippers had been screwed.

So,

This is a love letter - a vignette if you will - to a relationship that I feel never really got the send off it needed. It's premature, but somehow apt. I have no faith that these characters will be done justice or will do in the future. They will probably continue to live in my minds eye.

As I live for the characters, and the writing, above all else.

Adios Harvey Specter.

The hope for Donna Paulsen is all that remains.

Signed,

A Shipper.


Spring.

They grow apart,

And like the seasons, they change.

i.

She gets an office that is all hers. And she manages, by hook or by crook, to keep it. Permanently.

It is peach and ivory and speaks of her vibrancy and her elegance.

It is unlike his, with it's hard quality and the steel seeming frames of his desk and modern touches, and tells much more about her true person in it's delicate furnishings and bright ornaments.

She sees it as 'A buy-out well spent'.

She flourishes, quietly. Slowly. Perceptively, like she had done for so many before herself.

She adores her view of the city behind her. She bets that she has the biggest view of the skyline in the entire building.

In her decanter, she has Hibiki, a clear looking Japanese Whiskey. It is delicate too, with it's fresh notes and none of the hard acidic burn of the whiskey that she'd been subjected to over the years. She had wanted wine, and caught herself at the fact that she couldn't stray completely from old tradition. So, she settled for a middle ground.

Something on her own terms. Finally.

Her couches are like Jessica's used to be, floral, with a touch of House and Garden about them. They are stately and yet comfortable. Welcoming, and yet speak of her importance.

Louis compliments her on her decor, despite his disappointment in not being included, he understands the reasoning. Rachel sits in awe and at any opportunity she can steal away from her now busy lawyer schedule.

Her job role changes. She oversees Human Resources and the Administrative workings of the firm. She is no longer a secretary. She is now firmly a Manager.

For the first time in her life, it is a choice born out of the ache of wanting more for herself, and herself alone.

No person included.

She reminds herself every day that it was the best choice she could ever have made.

That if her personal life can never be as she wishes, in all it's dark truth, then her career will define her, indefinitely.

For the first time in her life, she feels like an individual.


Harvey is in love, he thinks.

Every day is an uphill struggle. But he trusts Paula. He revels in her gentle reminders of his character and lets him be himself, for better, more than worse. He feels open, and trusting in her motives. They are untainted by work and it is refreshing in a way that he is sure he has never felt before.

He fell in love with her accent, first. It's upright tone and frank approach. By it's measuring of him. It reminds him of someone, but it lacks the pressure. Lacks the pent up emotion of the past, in a way that he finds completely disarming.

She is charming and sexy and he honestly can't get enough of her.

He doesn't mention it to anyone at work.

Life moves forward.

For the first time in his life he thinks that he is in a good place.

He sees her most nights. Mike comments on his almost constant good mood, but never pushes for a reason.

For the first time in his life she is the only one unaffected by this change.

He stops dreaming about red hair and freckles.


They grow apart,

Like the seasons, they change.

ii.

Summer

Work is hard. It's stressful, constantly standing her ground against two strong men, neither of whom she panders to, and one of which she seems to butt heads with more often than she'd ever imagined she ever would. It's not Louis Litt. He, at least is a gentlemen to the end.

For the first time in her life, Donna Paulsen sees Harvey Specter from the outside. With all of his harsh edges and bullishness, she is now confronted with his harder treatment of her, as well.

They are no longer joined at the hip. The can opener now remains locked in a draw that she never reaches for. It doesn't bother her anymore. And he never asks for it, which helps too.

Being further apart only seems to emphasise how inappropriate it is to dine together, now. Again, he doesn't ask. No more bags, no more breakfasts. No more shitty Thai food, unless she's at home. She no longer helps with his cases, and only assists in a managing capacity. Mostly, she oversees the workings of the firm in the ways that Harvey can't be bothered, and Jessica had managed far better, such as paperwork and delegation, freeing up the time for Harvey to lead the firm and juggle regular cases with Mike when the time suits.

She is grateful for that. Despite their friction, they seem to still man the ship together as one fluid form.

A nickname starts to follow her,

The Matriarch.

'A woman who is the head of a family or tribe.'

It makes her feel old, but it soothes her to know that her position in the firm is not overlooked. Not anymore.

After six months of friction from Partners, she is finally one of them - albeit in an altered capacity. It turns out, that being a Lawyer, only complicates having a stake in the company. She takes a smaller cut than the billable Partners, and offers this as a gesture of goodwill, just to have a seat at the table. It only endears her to her now larger family.

Donna Paulsen has long been a valued member of the firm.

Turns out, she had been Harvey's better side, in the eyes of their co-workers. For more years than she ever gave herself credit.

She takes that fact to the grave, but wonders, sometimes, if he notices, when she gets a firm laugh at a quip or a joke and it offsets his control over meetings. She notices that occasionally, his eyes bend at her words. She doesn't push for effect anymore.

She has earnt her stars and stripes,

She has stopped asking for things from the one man in the world she felt indebted to.


His family has changed now.

He has a girlfriend. A partner in a different way. She is supportive and nurturing but doesn't overstep every boundary he has. Going home makes him happier than those nights alone at the firm.

The truth of such a thing starts to form out of the blurs of change.

He feels lonelier at work. Sure, Mike is there. And Louis, and of course, she is not far away and always helpful on command. But it's not the same, and for the first time in a year, he feels like a guy at work, who doesn't want to be there anymore.

His focus is changing. Or else, a gap is starting to appear.

He takes Paula to meet his Mother. He tells her that she is the woman that helped him move on. Paula is taken aback. His Mother is too.

He asks Paula to move in with him that night. She accepts. He assumes that she would have by the look in her eyes when they made love the night before. He makes love to her in a way that has him smiling to himself in the mirror the following mornings.


They grow apart,

And

Like the seasons, they change.

iii.

Autumn.

Rachel keeps on about her 'getting back into the dating pool'. She merely rolls her eyes in response and tells the younger woman that she doesn't need any man to make her happy.

Rachel mentions it once too many times, enough times to make her suspicious.

She runs into the sight of Harvey with his arms around a woman that used to be his therapist, no less than three blocks from her apartment.

She stalks back to her apartment, slamming her front door open, and running for the bathroom only to expel the violent feeling.

She curses the man who has her heart, and thinks about resigning that day and disappearing into the world.

She accepts the first date that walks up to her, but doesn't tell anyone about what she saw.

For the first time in her life she shoves the feeling deep down and for once doesn't pressure him about the things she knows.

Every date reaffirms to her that she's looking in the wrong place for love, both with Harvey and with men in general. That maybe there is a pattern, but she's not going to let it tear her like he had.

She decides to take up kayaking in her spare time. It's a hobby where she can meet a different kind of man. Maybe an outdoors man. Or a free man. An uncluttered man. A man who is nothing like the one who still holds her.


Out of the blue, he has this urge to say something.

He's not sure why. Perhaps it's a past loyalty to not keeping things from her. But the fact that she hasn't come to him makes him...uncomfortable.

He doesn't want to keep things from those he cares about. And how he feels about that, is unclear. He never sees her anymore. Not outside of meetings and talks and strategy where there is at least one or two more people in the room for them to focus on.

He tells Paula he's going out for a run.

He knocks on her apartment door forty-seven minutes later. It's ten o'clock, and his heart begins to beat in his chest in a way that reminds him of his past panic attacks.

She's not in. Even though he spied a light clearly coming from what he's sure is her apartment.

He doesn't knock a second time.

The next day, his palms are sweating, and he curses the way it makes him feel. He buys two coffees, both vanilla, and marches as casually as he can to her office. He closes the door before she can speak.

She is poised and pleasant. She doesn't question his demeanour. His attire. His body language.

He wonders if the old her has gone for good.

It makes his words more choice, his urge more impertinent.

'I've been...dating Paula Agard. My former Therapist,' he tells her. 'I didn't want to keep it from you, but it's serious, so. Here I am. Telling you.', he assures her.

She blinks three times before she answers.

It's calculated in a way that he's never seen from her. At least not since the second time she left him.

She tells him that she knows already. That she saw them near her apartment and figured as much. And that it's fine. That she's happy for him. Truly.

He questions the ease of her response like their roles have reversed and drawn themselves backwards.

She tells him that she's not in love with him anymore. And that's she's glad he's happy.

It's not as comforting as he had expected it would be.

Suddenly vanilla reminds him of the past, long gone. And the coffee in his hand has a bitter taste to it, that he never manages to shake.


They grow apart,

Like the seasons, they change.

vi.

Winter

The idea of her being the Maid of Honour to Harvey's Best Man makes her toes curl, and for the first time since Rachel picked up her wedding plans for the third time, does she wish that the younger woman had a closer girlfriend than she.

She doesn't have a date, and somehow the absence of the fact is nagging at her.

So she decides to go stag.

She's seen them together once. She can do it again.

She is still attractive and still sought after. She calls in a favour, the best stylist in the city to cater to her needs for the their celebratory 'wedding' themed get-together.

She dyes her hair a vivid fiery copper, and decides that she'll forever be the Scarlett Woman.

She thinks idly about retiring. About the other things that she wants from life.

Life is catching up with her, and she is behind the eight ball once again. Only, in a different way than before.

In her mind's eye, Harvey Specter is no longer attached to any semblance of an ideal.


He and Paula have hit a strange place.

He loves her. He does. Sometimes he would say he's in love with her. But lately, he finds himself out of body. As if he's living someone else's life. She goes to England for a week, and due to work he's unable to make it happen enough to join her. They fight, when she points out that he has never made an effort with her own family.

That week he starts to dream about red hair again. About a woman who isn't blonde and petite and hails from a supposed United Kingdom.

He wakes up in a sweat after the third night, so much so that he finds the uncontrollable urge to seek her out in the morning.

He manages to abate the urge, until he spies a flash of red heading in the opposite direction.

He's at a loss.

He doesn't have a shrink anymore. Only a girlfriend. A girlfriend that he realises can't help him with this problem anymore.

He follows her to her office.

She is guarded, but cordial.

He makes a joke about something ridiculous.

There is a flicker of something in her eyes that has his attention for the entire day.


They grow apart,

Like the seasons, they change.

v.

It's Spring, again.

She is dating a man. A curator of strange artworks. He is flippant and manly and has a southern drawl, and until she'd met him, she never realised just how much she liked the accent.

She reminds him of Harry Connick Jnr in a Romantic Comedy, and she tries from the very start to deter him, her previously wounded heart still only half mended. He persists, but with an honesty that reminds her of an older Mike post-fraud. She likes that, the open relief of a man with seemingly nothing left to hide. She thinks of Rachel's upcoming nuptials to the man of her dreams, and for once longs for the same.

She starts walking into work with the radiance of sex.

For the second time in the human world, Harvey Specter notices the change in her.

And for the first time, Donna Paulsen's first thought is not of the man she used to love.


Harvey Specter is an asshole.

He knows this fact, in himself, more than he ever did before, and is confronted with the fact every single day.

His dreams have become more vivid. In them, the redhead is Donna Paulsen.

He realises there and then that she is his talisman. That for better or for worse she is the indicator for the turning moments in his life. His Mother. Jessica. Paula. Herself.

She is the vehicle that his mind uses to tell him things in his dreams that his heart won't let him.

It's the Anniversary of his Father's death. He avoids Paula, needing to be alone in this moment, despite his growth.

He brings the usual gift to his annual pilgrimage.

After a bottle opened by his fair hand and downed by the like, he confesses.

Everything.

How he ran. Both physically and emotionally from the one woman that he owed the world to. How he chose the only other women in the world that could tell him the truth and then shut her mouth with platitudes and promises of change and interest just so he didn't have to hear that truth.

And how he watched, as his world changed before his very eyes only to be confronted with the opening feeling, that, for everything he had gained in a pure and functional relationship, he had given up on the one woman that still had him.

Right there.

And that he was a coward. Back then, right through to now.

And how now, he stood between the devil and the deep blue sea.

Without Red for miles and miles and miles.

And like a confession, he folds it back into himself, leaving what he can with his Father.

Promising to visit again.


They grow apart,

Like the seasons, they change.

vi.

With Summer, brings change, and a revolving circle that just about outlasts a year.

Donna Paulsen is happy. She is dating, casually, with a man that has finally breathed fresh air into her life.

Suddenly Mike and Rachel's Wedding doesn't seem so daunting.

She is excited, to see her two friends finally take that step together.

The rehearsal dinner looms, and she is minorly shaken.

Harvey Specter doesn't bring a date.

It plays on her mind just enough to make her berate herself for even lingering on the information.

Her date is charming and welcomed warmly into their group, considering Harvey's news has come and gone. People gossip about him, though. Mike gives her a look, but for once it is not her problem.

He looks at her, but doesn't say anything, especially as she is escorted for the entire evening. Nothing to worry about.

She chooses to submerge herself in the man with roughness and charm and honesty, with his nose in the arts.


He fights with Mike. Because Mike is the only one left.

If he thinks about it, all of them except Mike are on her side. They don't speak of it, but he can tell. He can feel it. Their collective judging of him. He feels betrayed by them all.

When it gets to the Wedding, he's already been reprimanded twice by his best friend, and told to 'get his shit together'. He has already drunk too much by the time the ceremony begins. Only Mike can tell, thankgod. He keeps quiet and remembers the ring.

He thinks about Paula. About Scottie, About Zoe and the other relationships that he has put above the one that now haunts his dreams.

He glances at her, red and violet and hazel, and tries to recount the clusters of freckles that are nearing their fifteenth year of absence.

At dinner, they are seated at the same table, her, himself and her date. He finds himself falling into old habits, an annoyance building in him that leads him to the bar mid-way through her vibrant conversation with the man that isn't him.

She doesn't follow him to the bar. Doesn't reprimand him.

It rises a bile in his throat at her inaction, so badly that he finds himself following her when she is alone, and wandering to the bathroom.

He pulls her aside. He shouts at her for being distant.

He tells her that he is in love with her, and that that's never going to change.

She tells him it's too late for them. Apologizes for the way he feels, may it be because of his latest break up, but reminds him that it's just not her job to take care of him anymore.


They grow apart,

And once again,

Like the seasons, they change.

vii.

Autumn brings the past back to haunt them.

She is single.

He is single.

They are the only single people in their collective circle now. Even Louis Litt has a fiancee, now.

They are like two immovable points in each other's sky. Without a course to set upon.

He thinks about her often. He now dreams about her always, and has made peace with the fact.

She ignores that he was once the sun she orbited around, gladly.

Like the seasons, they have changed, forward and back again.

For better, or for worse.

They are who they are.

In love and broken.

And never seeking relief of the fact.


As always please feed the kitty. Send it to Korsch. Print it out and light it on fire. Whatever ;-P