. .Beat'd. .

Author's Notes:

Post 8.16. Just a little Fluff.

This took ages as they are so resolved now in my mind. Typical that the moment they become canon I'm now occupied with other couples that aren't! (Ichiruki anyone? I think I'm becoming a teenager having only just watched bleach after all this time) Plus I didn't want to write before the show had written their own end. Call me superstitious after last time and my Sam chat...well done also to all of those shippers who stuck with it. You are stronger than I...This goes out to you guys.

And also Harvey and Donna. May their babies be orange.

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Need

By Atheniandream

. .

Even though she had opened the door in a flurry, his senses had presented the moment in the slowest of slow motion, his heart skipping with a gap between beats in the space akin to an eternity; the sensation of his knuckles still vibrating from the action of knocking quickly on the familiar hardwood and the two-oh-six blurring his vision into a negative that is left long after she'd opened the door.

He stood there in a timeless moment, panting and blinking against the sight of her, suddenly lurid and harsh to the eye, her expression confused and questioning and suddenly so much shorter than he'd ever noticed her being, a perfect mess of grey and orange and pale peach, just like his dreams had foretold.

He felt his breath fall heavily, his lungs sagging into his chest, arched brows now sinking with an inevitability that charted that final surrender in his expression.

You know I love you-it bothers me-it's over-i don't want to lose you-Donna...please...

He had never been good with words.

They had always caught in his throat at the mere thought of her and even after a decade of her guidance this hadn't lessened, not once, or at least never enough to matter more than it should in that exact moment. But now words had turned into air to breathe and sentiment had rushed into his veins with intent and need.

But for all he needed to say, and all he needed her to know, he just...ached in need above all else.

Luckily, she was quicker and smarter than he could ever be...

All it took was for her to step back, to allow him in, and to give him one look, something wrestling in frustration, a heady mixture of desire and love and more importantly openness; for every one of those emotions to fleet across her face and land in a confirmation.

Of him. Of them.

He had raced to her then, gathering her in his arms as if she were air to breath and he were seconds from a dying man. She was an everlasting beacon in his life that he would once again cling to, an orange glow in his world of patterned grey, and yet again she would guide him to what he most needed, like always, and probably forever.

Because, the one thing he needed above all else was her.

This, is not a story of how it all went wrong.

. . . ...

If you take too long to hit me back

I can't promise you how I'll react

But all I can say

Is at least I'll wait for you

Lately I've been on a roller coaster

Tryna get a hold of my emotions

But all that I know, is I need you close

And I'ma scream and shout for what I love

Passionate but I don't give no fucks

I admit that I'm a lil' messed up

But I can hide it when I'm all dressed up

I'm obsessive and I love too hard

Good at overthinking with my heart

How you even think it got this far?

This far

And I can be needy, way too damn needy

I can be needy, tell me how good it feels to be needed

I can be needy, so hard to please me

I know it feels so good to be needed

'Needy' by Ariana Grande

. . . ...

The morning came almost as quickly as they had the night before, but both were still too unconsciously wrapped up in one another, too tired from the past twenty four hours of near-as-dammit-emotional-torture-turned-to-bliss to even glimpse the sun birthing itself above the horizon line, just a streak of fluorescent pink and mouth watering tangerine. Ochre lined russet coloured eyes eventually blinked open at the sound of the M55 Bus passing the corner with a colourful screech and an irritable honk or two.

Harvey sighed then, momentarily out of sorts, his attention flicking to the mess of coppery hair tickling his nose. The morning drew back, awakening his memory of the night before, a liquid stream of vibrant sensations hitting his mind's eye as if on an ever-playing reel.

The feeling of her polished alabaster skin against his bruised lips; the sound of her rich, velvety moan in his ear, full of caramel waves and studded allure. The cat like look that she got in her eyes after their initial hunger had been sated and they begin to really play with one another.

He smiled broadly to himself, noticing the changes in his body at the recollection of the night before, that post coital relaxation that'd been missing from him of late. Now in place of it came less tension in his shoulders, much less of an acid tinged pain in his stomach and even that tightness in his eyes had began to wane. It had been more than that, though, he thought to himself. His chest, or more importantly, his heart, didn't ache like it had been so used to.

How odd, that she had taken it all, clean away from him in just one precious night.

Had he realised that she had been the answer to the biggest problem of all, he would have stayed the last time… he wouldn't have left with a 'You know I love you' and goodnight.

It was all too troubling a notion though, and he dashed the rest of the thought away before it could permeate his bones fully, his gaze fixing on the glimmer of freckle covered porcelain shoulder that peeked out from above the covers.

He swallowed, his suddenly growing arousal mind mapping its way around the memory of her body, as he gravitated towards her, his hand diving under the covers to wrap expertly over a pointed hip, his body sidling against her back and buttocks. He smirked as his other hand moved her hair out of his way, exposing the treasure trove of freckles on her upper spine. It was all it took to draw her out of sleep as she inhaled, straightening against the radiating warmth of his body. She was quicker to assess her surroundings than he had been, folding herself over so that she came face to face with him, seemingly relieved at his presence.

"Morning." She said, her voice thick with sleep and just a touch of held humour.

"Morning." He smirked, overtaken by the hazel in her eyes and the way she looked at him, calmly and a touch seductive. He knew it was a cover for how she really felt. Maybe they were both a little surprised that after everything that had come to pass; he was still here. All he knew was that he loved her, he was in it for the long haul, and he was itching to touch her properly but unsure of how exactly to play it.

His words cut through the sounds of their breaths slowing in tandem to a even measure.

"So...you and Tho-" He started.

"I swear to god Harvey, if you even finish that sentence-" She interrupted, the words forming into a stream of ripely irritated sound.

"I'm sorry," He snatched, checking himself immediately, his tone oddly innocent as he let out a sigh. "I knew the answer, I just..I needed to...say it out loud." He said, feeling the dread well up in his gut.

His eyes flicked to her face, watching as she observed his expression in full. Her features were flushed still, that dewy post-coital sheen lighting her almost translucent skin on fire. For a fraction of a second he forgot that he had pissed her off, distracted by the freckles that peppered her face and the toffee auburn mane that laid across her clean white pillows.

Her gaze raised to match his, her expression softening gradually as she took in his appearance.

"But yes." She laid the words flat and simple. "Thomas is...firmly...out of the picture." She confirmed, her smile tampered down by framed annoyance.

He nodded deftly, something bubbling in his chest, on the verge of overcome, his eyes crinkling as his jaw relaxed in Harvey-laden relief. Good, he thought. It's good, They are...good. He wasn't worthy of her, and he would forever be battling with that ideal in the back of his head.

She smiled to herself then, shaking her own head as if she could hear his thoughts in stereo. She took a moment before allowing a hand to slide across the side of his face, observing as he leant in to her touch, the pad of her thumb brushing against the sharp indent on his cheekbone. Her hands we so incredibly soft that it was like being suspended by sheer silk, the sensation drenching his bones right to the edge of disbelief.

When he finally looked up, he noticed that Donna had been in thought also. He watched as she breathed in a consideration, the consolidation of it forming into possible words.

"Harvey…" She offered eventually.

"Hmm?" He replied, looking to her plainly.

"I'm...sorry...that I...jeopardized your job." She told him, her tone serious in the rarest of moments as her hand fell to her side.

His eyebrows sunk into a overworn frown, disappointment at her brief touch, his shoulders slumping slightly as his hand slid into the whispy hair around the nape of her neck. "You don't ever have to apologise, Donna." He told her, his eyes lightening against the brightness of the room around them.

"Yes. I do." She insisted, smiling at his graciousness. "I don't...often…but I need to this time. You...sacrifice your life for me...and whenever I make a mistake you lay yourself on the line, every time. But, this time...I...was wrong, Harvey. And...I'm sorry." She said.

"Donna," He frowned fully, sighing at her admission. "I told you I'd never let anything happen to you and I meant it. You deserve your job and I'm not going to let anyone take that away from you. Including me." He slowed towards the end, the declaration planting in her mind with the weight of a thousand kisses, just like he had meant it to.

"I know." She resolved, sighing at the truth of his words. "And...in return, I...will try not to make your life so difficult that you're forced to." She smirked knowingly, her expression a touch guarded as she reached for him.

He smiled then, something soft and unlike the Harvey that she'd witnessed over the past few years. "Good." He said, thoughts becoming words in their truest form as her hand moved back to it's original position against his face.

"Good." She copied, smiling at their agreement for moment, until her concentration fixed on him, her leg sliding over the indent of his waist. She internally blossomed when his breath hitched, the tone of his voice dragging like a cool breeze through tall grass as he sighed against the feeling of her hands raking down his chest. She smiled to herself, using the moment to push him over and onto his back, her hands planting around the bottom of his lungs as she gracefully sat in his lap. A guttural sound peeled out of his mouth as she ground very slowly, purposefully against his hips, an encouragement that drew his nipples hard and caused his gut to begin to stir rapidly and writhe inside of him.

"I love you." He managed, his hands snapping to her waist to press her more firmly against his need.

And when her eyes searched his, indeed she could find only love there. She could have said it back, in between moans and grinding and the mingling of their breaths. And she probably would have, given half a chance to pull herself out of the fixed connection that they had only now begun to explore the cavernous depths of. But there was something so sacred in letting his words mingle and grow in the air between them. To allow them to fix and dance and rise against the crescendo of their love making.

This was a new day for all involved.

Not quite a fresh start, but as near they could have ever hoped for, given such a rocky start.

. . .

Donna Paulsen was….happy. It was perhaps the first time she'd ever been so. She looked over to Harvey's once against sleeping form; her attention catching at the many moles on his shoulders, and the softness, almost boyishness of his expression as his breath swept him further and further into the waves of sleep. She smiled to herself, feeling oddly shy and exposed even in her own attention, at being caught out so blatantly enjoying the sight of him. For allowing herself to gaze upon him and get a little closer to believing, finally, that she was his and he was hers.

She wasn't naive, though. Far from it. She knew that the road less travelled was always paved with obstacles to overcome. Problem was they'd travelled that other road so many times, and each time they'd ended up stuck at the same crossroads. The same decision. The same problem. And unending between them that felt like it would never amount to much after circling so long together.

If she were honest with herself, she was still suspended in shock at his appearance last night. His eyes, so wide and tired and overcome with what they had held for so long, never together and nearly always apart until he had stood there, finally willing to take that important step. And her, raw and exposed and winding on a repetition that felt like it could never end, until her confirmation to him had broken all of their old ties, sucking them together in a vacuum of his insurmountable want of her and her broken longing for him in return.

There was a notable stillness in them now, she had realised. A heldness. A truth. A final resolution. He seemed, more open and forthcoming since last night, and she was less on edge as a result. They had always played at the precipice of his feeling and the knife edge of his resolve, but over the years that they had broached Mike's particular 'situation' their reaction to one another had become fraught. Sure, when they were young and idealistic, they had an ease with one another, but as the tension had set in; as people vied for their attentions separately and then apart from the other, they had started to witness the cracks begin to form.

They had been unbreakable in their professional lives, but only infantile in their personal connection, and now this past night and a half a day, between sleep and wakefulness, it had served as space away from the world enough to begin etching the beginnings of a connection that was separate from all they had ever shared before. This necessary bridging of their worlds into one, where no third party, nor third party situation was insinuated, or even welcome at this point, was an essential factor to their relationship surviving.

And they had survived everything else, so...why not this newer form?

An impatience began to grow within her as she lay beside him, a coolness around her limbs from the covers that had been thrown to the floor hours earlier, leaving an exposure that she would rather be replaced with his warmth. She stretched across the bed, her hand creeping across his toned back, a long muscular leg following soon after as it brushed with a furtiveness against the tight, firm ass on show. She settled herself neatly against his side, her left breast and puckered nipple pressing into his right shoulder blade to solidify the point further as her thighs hugged his right leg in an effort to fully rouse him back to the world he had temporarily left behind.

She smirked victoriously against his neck when she felt him press upwards and against her, his buttocks nudging her in all the right places as his hand found her right one, dragging it under their bodies with a possessive streak.

"You'd better not be wet," He warned good-naturedly, eyes still closed with only a lazy smile to betray him.

She giggled against his skin, pressing a wet kiss not an inch off of his jawline.

"You want the truth or something beautiful?" She offered, her voice sultry and playful as she slid off of him enough to allow him better access to her. He stretched, arcing over her body for as long as it took her to wrap her long limbs around his.

"Try me." His eyebrows twitched, an all too sexy look planting in his eye. "I already have both." He said with a sudden confidence, before covering her mouth with a hunger that only his lips could demonstrate.

. . . .

As always please feed the kitty! A xoxo