H.S.D
By Atheniandream
He remember's last year.
Remembers….that he forgot.
Only because she'd never ever told him...
Which, given his track record it was understandable, that she'd step in and do the job better than he would when it came to things like this.
The thing was though,
With her...he got it right. First try. On most things, at least...
Over the past few years, even before anything had even started he always knew how to reward her. Granted, they'd been together in their two-person team for so long now that no doubt over the years she'd let it not so casually slip, the correct ways to reward her. She had been a good teacher, but he was in no doubt that he had been quite a successful student when it came to her.
If anything, she still had some learning to do.
This time…he'd made note of the date.
And that, was not easy.
This year in particular it boiled down to the 23rd, the Wednesday in the last full week of April.
He'd been waiting by her desk for about thirty-six seconds, waiting for her to round the corner to his office. It had to be well-timed and well executed. She was shrewd, and for her to suspect something from the off would blow the whole thing wide open.
His attention sharpens as a clicking of heels followed by Tangerine and Turquoise all moving in minutely different directions glides down the hall. She notices him straighten, her eyes moving to his tie before a slight smile creeps into her features as she places one of the coffees she has in his hand.
He may not have gotten away with it…
"Morning," She says, hiding the humour of his waiting presence.
"We have a problem." He says, deadpan.
"What is it?" She halts, frowning, her kohl rimmed eyes widening in the process.
"When I woke up this morning, you weren't in my bed." He says, the words rolling effortlessly off of his tongue.
She quirks an eyebrow, unperturbed by his outburst.
"My bed's more comfortable than yours." She says, measuring his eyes. "And I had laundry to do."
He leans in then, deliberately, in the process getting a whiff of her airy and slightly sweet perfume."So, bring it with you next time."
"Buy a new bed and maybe we'll talk. Besides, you don't have a washing machine..." She accuse, giving him a look and sidestepping him to place her bag in the confines of her cubicle.
"So…" He shrugs, following her.
They've gotten so comfortable with this whole scenario - each other, work, each other at work - that their private life has started to blend ever so subtly into their workplace. A touch here, a linger there, a quick kiss when everyone else has gone home for the day. Their lives together have casually merged into a steady flow of your average couple.
He takes the opportunity to fall back for a second, walking into his office casually, sitting at his desk as he watches her organise herself.
He had placed the long red clutch shaped box on her desk earlier, a note scrawled with the words 'H.S.D.', a clever little play on a day he knows she's well aware of and the past arrogance that used to be his gift giving, spelling 'Happy Secretary's Day', as well as various other possible meanings just to throw her off.
He watches her pause, noticing the box and the note out of the corner of her eye. She sits down, her swivel chair rolling towards the edge of the desk as she takes a quick sip of her coffee before frowning long and hard at the note. He's one hundred percent sure she needs glasses, but he suspects she's likely trying to work out if it's saying something to do with his name just to throw her off, until she seems to decide otherwise and places the card back down, picking up the box, her dark fingernails smoothing over the velvety surface of the clutch shape with an interest.
He had made sure that the box had no discernible signs of where it was from, he even had them make the box specially for the occasion, the box lined with a delicate monogrammed silk of the jeweller of choice. Details to rely on for a woman like her. His breath catches as her fingers wrap around the clutch fastens, pulling the box open. She straightens immediately in her seat, snapping the box shut and all but jumping to her feet and gliding through his office door with a face like thunder as she shuts the glass door behind her.
"Why are you so bad at this?" She asks roughly, her clutch holding arm flapping.
"What?" He blinks, his eyebrows raising.
"Really? I thought in all the years that I've coached you with other women that you would have picked up something along the way. This box...is empty, Harvey." She gestures, opening it to show the evidence, or lack thereof.
It's oddly reactive for her. He wonders what else is on her mind...
He smirks then, standing. "Oh. That must why," He says, his hand rustling in his pocket.
"Harvey, what are you-"
Her words are cut off when he starts to kneel. "Donna," He starts.
"Okay. We Have a Problem," Says a familiar voice.
They both pause as Mike walks blindly into the office, a large stack of file boxes in his hands.
Harvey sighs heavily as he glares at Donna, who merely raises an eyebrow questioningly at him, her hands settling on her hips.
"Mike. We're busy," Harvey groans as the pair watch Mike settle the boxes onto his desk.
"We'll you're gonna clear your schedule after you hear that Marx and Cole just recused themselves as council from our case,"
He swears he hears Donna stifle a dry laugh as he unceremoniously stands to his feet, watching his protege buzz about the room with piles of folders and none the wiser.
For a perceptive kid, he sure missed the mark on this one, he thinks.
He stuffs his hand into his pocket, dropping the ring with a huff into the fabric space as Donna glides back to her desk and he's faced with an animated Mike gesturing strategy at him.
Spent a week in a dusty library
Waiting for some words to jump at me
We met by a trick of fate
French navy my sailor mate
We met by the moon on a silvery lake
You came my way
Said, I want you to stay - Camera Obscura 'French Navy'
In all honesty she was in a slight….state of shock; having found her way back to her desk, her fingers typing furiously, instinctively along to the rhythm of the muffled sounds of Harvey and Mike that filtered through her earpiece.
She was...engaged? Or not? Or...pending.
Pending.
That was pretty much them from the off. For two people on top of their game at work they were always behind the eight ball when it came to their private life together.
She didn't even have a drawer in his closet. He didn't have one in hers.
They were in a strange kind of limbo.
The ring flashed up in the front of her mind, it's sharp glistening lines and overwhelming clarity bearing down on her consciousness.
Harry Winston. Without a doubt.
He'd tried to throw her off with the box, but she knew the signature cut anywhere. Hell, she'd spent many an afternoon grazing between online jewellers just for the fun of it.
It was currently...in his pocket.
A pocket on a man was a very dangerous place indeed.
She shudders roughly at the thought.
Mike finally leaves about two o'clock, with orders to catch up with the new opposing counsel and head them at the pass before they can get traction on their side. Donna takes the opportunity to swoop into the room the moment the young man darts along the hall past her desk.
"Give it to me." She demands, stalking up to his desk.
"What?" Harvey frowns, sitting forward.
"The Ring. It's been in your pocket for four hours now. I can't take it any more. I'll...look after it." She says, flapping somewhat.
She watches him immediately recoil, narrowing his eyes. "No you won't."
"Excuse me?"
"We're doing this properly. And it's not in my pocket." He says smugly, smirking in his chair.
"You better finish what you started, Specter." She warns.
"Why do you think I bought a ring?" He counters, quirking an eyebrow.
He's not giving it up, she realises, the smell of statemate in the air.
She returns to her desk less than satisfied.
The itch to find a certain brunette paralegal is imminent. Too bad she's not working today. Students…
She fishes her phone out of her bag, picking up the office phone to dial out.
"Rachel speaking,"
"Rach. My favourite student. You free?" She asks down the receiver.
"For about two hours. Lunch?" Her friend offers.
"Lunch sounds perfect," She says, picking up her bag.
When she sits at the table, Rachel's hard gaze falls upon her immediately.
"So, what's going on?" She presses.
"Who said anything was going on?" Donna shrugs, picking up the menu.
"Donna," Her friend stifles a sigh.
"Okay. Harvey… Harvey proposed."
"Proposed, proposed?"
"The most obvious definition of that word, yes."
"Really?" She sputters, barely containing a laugh of shock in front of the redhead.
"Well...Kind of." She muses, wondering upon the clarity of the moment.
"Tell me everything." Rachel insists, leaning forward on her chair just to add to the conspiracy of their meeting.
"He was about to…show me the ring. He got on one knee...and then Mike wanders in..."
"Oh Mike…" She shakes her head, the joint knowledge of 'Mike the Cock-blocker'
"I know…"
"Wait. He proposed at work?"
"It's Secretary's day." She shrugs, taking a long sip of her water.
"Oh. That is thoughtful. And?"
"Well, your stupid boyfriend halted the proceedings. And now I don't know when he's going to do it. Which of course I can't handle."
"Well that can't be a bad thing, right? At least he's going to actually...propose."
She can see by the look on her friend's face that she envies her position.
"Give Mike time, Rachel. You're both still...young. Appropriately so. I'm not even sure I want to-"
"Really? So you're telling me you're considering saying no?"
"No. Just not...Yes."
"You love him though, right?"
"Rachel."
"Donna. It's been 11 years. The jig is up. We all know."
"Yes. But…"
"But what," Rachel interrupts. "He's rich, handsome and adores you."
"I think you're forgetting that he's an eternal bachelor."
"Maybe only because you've kept him hanging for so long?"
"That's harsh. But oddly perceptive. Columbia is good for you..." She says, eyeing her best friend.
"But possibly true. He loves you. He probably always has."
"He's also still my Boss." She scoffs, taking another sip of water.
"Hadn't you figured that out when you got together?"
"There's a difference between fucking your boss and marrying him."
"Do you leave anything at his?"
"No."
"Ah.."
"What's Ah?" She fires, an accusation peeling out of her.
"You're afraid of the commitment. Donna…" Rachel wines, a disappointed look on her face.
It's annoying to say the least. She's not quite sure why. Something about age perhaps...
"It's a big step, Rachel."
"Don't you think it's a little ironic that you're the one freaking about having to share your life with a man that you already share most of it with?"
"Why have you suddenly got it together?"
"Because I'm at Law-school. I'm almost permanently on my toes. Plus I already moved in with my boyfriend." She remarks, playfully jabbing at the fact.
"Harvey is not my boyfriend. He's my…date for a few evenings a week."
"Donna. You need to give it up. Let go a little. He's not going to hurt you. And if he does...I'll-"
"Kick his ass?" She smiles.
"Have Mike kick his ass."
"Like that would happen Harvey would win that one."
"I know, right?" She grins, their collective humour shared at the thought of Rachel's weedy boyfriend fighting a guy who boxes on the weekends…
"So how is it? The law..."
"Good. Hard. Good and Hard."
"Just like you like your-" Donna quips, the comment lightning fast.
"Yeah I get it." Rachel bites back, smiling.
They sit in a moment of silence, the thought pressing down on Donna.
"I just… I'm scared, Rachel. It's a big step. That he's making."
"He's growing Donna. You know what this means?"
"What does it mean?"
"You have to grow too. You owe it to him."
"I owe nothing." She says arrogantly, straightening in her seat.
"This. This is the one thing you owe him. You give him everything but yourself. It's time to break that tradition."
"Again. Not how expected this talk to go."
"You're welcome sweetie." Rachel jokes, grinning wickedly at her friend.
When she returns to work she's had a glass or two of wine. It's inappropriate by work standards but she's had enough happen today that she needs to take the edge off somehow. And Harvey wouldn't dare comment on the fact.
When she stalks back down the hall, he's perched on her desk.
"How was lunch?" he asks, something soft and shy about his voice as he tilts his head to look at her.
"Good. Rachel's doing well." She offers, placing her bag down.
"Did you tell her about…"
"No…" She says quickly.
"Donna…."
"Yes. Now move, I have work to do." She says, gesturing him off of her desk.
"Just so we're clear," He says, straightening his suit. The look he gives her is poignant, to say the least. "This isn't over." He says, pointing between them.
"Do your worst," She says then, standing her ground, watching as a grin falls out all over his smug face.
She'd kiss him if she wasn't so against the public display...
With almost damned timing, Jessica marches up to them both.
"Harvey. We have a problem." She says, marching past him into his office.
He rolls his eyes, as they both return to their usual positions.
She has a feeling the matter's not going to resolve itself quickly.
Turns out, that Secretary's day should also be called the 'day of distractions'.
Harvey spends the entire day on his toes, as she keeps up with the paperwork. Two merger's rearing their ugly heads and New council representation on the earlier one make for an exhaustingly busy day.
She notices him getting more and more agitated as the day goes by.
When it gets to 8.30 she's had enough, and storms into his office, now glowing with the nightlights of the city behind them.
"Hey." She says, looking down at him.
He looks up from the sofa and pile of paperwork around him, sighing slightly as he takes her in.
"Mike gone home?" She asks.
"Yeah. The kid's done well. He deserves the night off."
"You're a good Boss."
"I know." He smirks.
"You need food." She says, looking down at his hunched form, with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow and his tie slightly off kilter. He's clearly been scratching at his head as his parting has flattened on the wrong side.
"I did have a reservation," He says darkly, glaring up at her.
"Ah.. Well I'll cancel that. And I'll order us chinese. Hows that?"
"It'll do." He says, sighing into the back of the sofa.
"And put some music on, it feels like a library in here…" She orders good-naturedly, before spinning on a heel.
Calm the storm
Sometimes I feel like
Calm the storm
Sometimes I wish I could
Calm the storm
Times I try to
Calm the storm
Sometimes I want to
Calm the storm… - Graffiti6 'Calm the storm'
When she returns to his office, takeout bags in her hands,
It's a picture.
He has his head propped up with one hand, loosely, precariously balancing on one knee and a pile of paperwork sliding slightly off of his lap, daring to meet the floor with so much as a twitch.
She smiles to herself, placing the bag and plates on the coffee table, the rustle startling him, as he sits upright.
"Nice nap?" She asks, the humour in her features.
"You were naked. Can't complain." He jokes, stretching against the back of the sofa as she plops down beside him. He has an instant smoulder for her as his hand snakes around her waist, that devil-may-care look in his eye.
"You're feeling bold." She observes.
"That's not the word I would use. And that dress is-"
"Paying for itself, apparently."
"You don't buy them just...for me, do you?"
"I can't believe you just asked me that. Do you not know me at all?" She says, her voice playing at irrate.
The look her gives her tells her that he's got her number...
"Sometimes." She says, guarded. "Mostly for myself, but…sometimes. Just to rile you."
"You realise that's not what they do, right? 'Rile me'?"
"Oh. What do they do to you?" She asks, leaning slightly with a pout.
"You really want me to elaborate on that right now?" He asks, his face hovering near hers.
"Well a girl could get confused,"
"You're not a girl any more,"
"I'm sorry did I forget to put my dick on." She jokes, looking around herself.
"You know what I mean." He laughs, before containing himself. "You're a very beautiful woman."
"Oh my god, I can't take it. You're freaking me out!" She says, standing.
She's not sure why she's standing. She feels stifled suddenly and it has almost nothing to do with him. He looks up at her like she's gone insane.
"Donna?"
"I…I'm not ready." She blurts out.
"For what?"
"To marry you. I'm just… I'm not. I'm sorry. I know I should be and...I do...love you. I just. Today has freaked me out."
"Okay," He says vaguely, gauging her.
She can see the cogs turning in his head. He takes a moment on something, then settles back against the couch. "Whatever you want."
"It's not that I don't ever want to, Harvey. I just. I don't even have a drawer."
"A drawer?" He frowns, confused.
"At your apartment. I don't have a drawer. And you don't have anything at mine. And yet here you are-"
"You realise that...getting married...would eliminate all of those problems?"
"It's too fast." She fires.
"It's been eleven years." He remarks, dead-pan.
"You know that's not true."
"Isn't it?" He questions.
She scrutinizes him, the ambiguity in his words. His posture, and the interest in his features. Or is it worry?
Rachel's right.
She's been withholding herself since the beginning.
The VERY beginning.
Lay me down.
Close your eyes.
Side by side,
We close our eyes.
When I'm tired you lift me baby.
In the morning time when the light gets darker,
It's hard to lift my head up.
Baby, you're the light that's shining through like a sea of
Stars appear.
She watches him, his deductive reasoning skills trying to work her out.
"Okay…" She sighs, her shoulders slumping from their usually held position.
"What?"
"I will marry you on three conditions."
"Okay. Familiar ground." He notes, sitting back and slowly straightening out his tie.
"Condition one: we move some things into each other's apartments."
"You could just…"
"What?"
"Move into...mine?" He offers. There's something uncharted in his features, an expression she hasn't really seen before. Or for a long while...She wants to shout 'TOO FAST' at him. And then walk. Preferably away. She takes a deep breath, feeling her insides pinch.
"Okay. But I'm keeping my apartment." She says boldly.
"Fine," He says, standing. She's taken aback by the decisive action as he walks around the table to meet her. "But you realise that, once we do take that step,"
"Yes?"
"I'm not gonna want to let you go again." He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers find her waist, pulling her slightly numb form into him. His breath plays at her hair as he kisses the side of her neck. "I won't make that mistake a second time, Donna." He whispers then, his thumbs pulling at her ribs and her name reverberating against her cheek.
"Okay. Show me the damn ring." She relents, pushing out a forced huff.
"Donna?" He frowns, pulling away from her, unsure.
"I know you have it in here. I want to see it." She says. She's unsure of where the bold decision is coming from. Her blood feels like it's swelling around her head, but she'll take it. "Harvey, get the ring, now."
He goes to his desk, where his jacket hangs on the back of his chair and fishes in his breast pocket behind the pocket square, pulling out the offending ring, and walks slowly back around to stand opposite her.
It's somehow extremely romantic.
"Were you planning on keeping it in there forever?"
"With the way your mind is changing - perhaps." He quips, his dry tone softening with a smile. "Wanna try it on?"
"You really think I'm gonna fall for that?" She raises an eyebrow, her hands finding her hips. "This is not my first rodeo."
"So I heard. How many times is it now...fifteen?"
"Eight." She corrects, rolling her eyes. And at least five of those were pretend times anyway.
"Lucky number nine?" He offers.
"I'm scared." She says then. It's probably the first time in her life that she's uttered those words to another person, let alone him.
"Donna Evelyn Paulsen. You're a pain in the ass. But I'm pretty sure you're my pain in the ass," He says, kneeling once more.
She grins, rolling her eyes. It occurs to her that he's probably not going to give up at this point.
Deja vu rolls into the office…
"Guys I forgot…" Mike stalks into the office, his coat on and an afterthought on his face. He halts, taking in Donna looking on-edge and Harvey kneeling into his expensive carpet with a very big diamond in his hand. "Oh God. Sorry, I better." He gestures.
"No!" Harvey barks, pointing with his free hand. "You'll stay this time. You've already ruined this once. You can be a witness. I figure I'm gonna need one. Now," He says, adjusting his very crooked tie before continuing. "Donna Evelyn Paulsen. I know you're scared. I know that I should have sealed the deal long ago. Hell, I should have done a lot of things that I haven't done. But I...love you. And I know you love me, no matter how much you pretend this is 'just a fuck',"
"Eloquent." Mike chimes in, until Harvey gives him a strong warning. "Sorry. Continue." He gestures, stepping back a foot.
"It's not. I want you to move in. And at some point, before we die, I'd like to marry you." He says, straightening against the ache in his calves. "So, we gonna do this or what?"
"The Chinese is getting cold." She remarks, pointing the white bag on the coffee table.
"Donna," He presses, drawing her gaze back to him.
"Okay, I'll wear that on three conditions," She says pointing to the ring.
"More conditions? Really?" He questions, sighing heavily.
"First: When I tell my parents, you have to be in attendance, Harvey. And it won't be pretty, believe me."
She watches his face falter just slightly. "Right…" He nods quietly, his eyes closing for a moment. He remembers her parents vividly. Her mother was...
"Second: 6 months probationary period on living together before we even discuss it."
"We're not going to need it, but okay." He says boldly.
"And Third. I'm not changing my name." She says defiantly.
"No Deal." He shakes his head, immediately stubborn to the idea. He straightens away from her for a second.
"Harvey," She huffs.
"What's wrong with my name?" He asks, the irk evident in his characterful voice.
"I want to retain some semblance of my identity before I completely merge into your life."
She watches him mull it over, the cogs turning in his head as they offset against the physical rigors of being on the floor this long.
"A hyphenate." He offers, however there's more of a look of challenge and wager in his stare.
"Harvey," She scoffs.
"That way, you can call yourself Paulsen, and yet you're still legally a Specter."
"Guys, does there really have to be a term on the-" Mike chimes in.
"Shut up," They both bark at the younger man, silencing him.
"Paulsen-Specter?" She offers, scrutinising him.
He lets the option settle in his mind. "I like it." He says finally.
"Okay….Deal." She finally says, relenting.
He relaxes then, all smiles. "Now was that really so hard?" He offers, gesturing the ring towards her.
"We'll see in six months time." She quips, straightening her hand so he can slide the ring onto her finger.
It's perfect, she thinks. He has done his homework, after all.
She wrestles with a smile as she stares at the platinum diamond, multi-faceted and unyielding.
Just like her.
"So…" Mike chimes in, resting on the end of the couch. "There's chinese?" He asks, a twinkle in his eye as his chin surveys the white plastic bag like a baby vulture.
"What did you want?" Harvey asks, his tone it's usual droll as he disconnects from Donna.
"Oh. It can wait. I'll let you guys...celebrate. I'll see you tomorrow." He eyes them knowingly, his silent congratulations another thoughtful gift from Mike Ross.
She waits until Mike's form disappears around the corner until she comments.
"How many times has he cock-blocked us now?" Donna asks.
"At least seven." Harvey remarks dryly.
"I counted eight." She counters.
"So where were we?" He says, examining her, that little twinkle evident in his eye.
"Chinese food." She reminds him.
"Amongst other things…" He growls, poking a strand of hair behind her ear.
I challenge everyone to write their own version of Secretary's Day.
Axx