Harvey Specter strolls triumphantly back to his office, after leaving his opponent in a pile of broken glass on the men's room floor. Picturing the smarmy English bastard in a groaning heap puts a smile on his face, sending a jolt of pain across his jaw.

Guess he got lucky.

Walking back into the office, he sees Donna relaxing on the couch with the first aid kit on the coffee table, and Bob Marley on the stereo. Upon seeing his face, she grabs a cloth and rushes over to him.

"Jesus, Harvey. I thought you were gonna kick the shit out of him. Not the other way around."

"Believe me, I gave far more than I got. Ow." he flinches as she presses the cool damp cloth against his jaw.

"Don't be a girl."

"Can I at least have a scotch while you're torturing me?"

Donna eyes him momentarily. "Fine. Keep this here and go sit down." she says, handing him the cloth. "I suppose you're going to tell me that the swelling on your jaw is from a lucky punch?"

"Obviously. Ugh. Ow." he replies, lowering himself onto the couch.

"Where else did he get you?"

Harvey tries to radiate innocence. "I have no idea what you mean."

Donna hands him the scotch glass and pokes him in the ribs.

"Aaagh. Jesus Christ, Donna. What the hell?"

"Looks like he got more than one lucky shot. You're slipping Specter."

"Gahh. OK. Fine. He got a few good shots in. But I left him crying like a bitch on the men's room floor. At least I walked out in one piece."

"You didn't hit him below the belt, did you?"

"What? No. I'm not an asshole."

Donna simply stares at him.

"OK. Maybe I'm an asshole. But I'm not a sadist." Harvey takes a sip of the scotch and replaces the cool cloth on his jaw with the slightly colder glass. "Wait. Why do you care? You're not going to keep sleeping with him. Are you?"

"Oh God no. I do have standards, Harvey." she replies.

Harvey looks at her critically for a moment.

"What?"

"You know exactly what."

"It's not what you think."

"Then tell me."

"You wouldn't break a gifted musician's hands, would you?"

"God, no."

"Well...it's kind of like that."

Harvey sniffs derisively and shakes his head. The pair sit in silence for a moment.

"That good?" he asks.

"Oh yeah." Donna replies.

"Was he better than me?"

Donna sighs. "I'm not answering that question."

"C'mon. Tell me. I can handle it. I just kicked his ass. So, no matter what, I've still won."

"You really want to know?"

Harvey just looks at her impatiently.

"Alright. The man is an artist. I haven't enjoyed myself that much since my trip to Aruba. And even then, that was more than one person."

Harvey just gapes at her.

"What? You asked."

"Sorry. But what was that about Aruba? You said more than one person. Not more than one guy."

"I know."

"So you -"

"Are you really surprised, Harvey?"

"Surprised? No. Intrigued? Hell yes."

Donna grins enigmatically.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Was she hot?"

"Which one?"

Both of Harvey's eyebrows raise simultaneously. At which point. Donna drains her glass of scotch, grabs her coat and heads for the door.

"Goodnight, Harvey. Make sure you ice those ribs before bed."

That's not the only thing I'm going to do before bed. Harvey thinks.