Intruder
Category: Action/Angst/Romance
Pairing: Darvey
Summary: A late night trespasser at Pearson Specter Litt puts Donna's life in danger and forces Harvey to question exactly 'how' he loves her.
Disclaimer: Own nadda.
Authors Notes: My first Suits fic! Set after S7 but no discriminate time frame. I hope you like it :)
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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
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His feet tread the tired beige carpet, eyes roaming over the brief in his hand. The hastily scrawled notes written inside the margin correlate precisely with the fax he's just received. Of course they do. He's Harvey Spectre, he doesn't make mistakes but he does like to be thoroughly prepared. The closure is tomorrow morning and he thumbs his eyelid wiping away the dregs of tiredness. It's late and the majority of people have headed home for the night but a movement in his peripheral vision urges his gaze up to the darkened hall.
It's no surprise to see his former assistant still working and the corners of his mouth twitch as his eyes trail from her heels up to a stunning blue dress. She carries immaculate with ease and a smirk spreads across his face when she stops and turns rolling her eyes at him. It's what they do. They smile and flirt, walk the walk, talk the talk and maybe sometimes the lines do get a little blurry but they're built to withstand it.
He winks at her drawing a playful smile to her full red lips and a tingle shoots through his chest as her long legs carry her from his view. The feeling lingers but he doesn't stop to dwell on it burying his nose back in the report as his feet kick forward. Emotions are a weakness, a prison, and he can accept she's different, that he cares about her but they've skipped through enough landmines recently. If keeping things platonic is what it takes to keep their limbs intact then-
"Hey!"
The word flies from his mouth as he feet land squarely in the centre of his office, his eyes darting from the destroyed vinyl to the asshole ransacking the shit out of his desk.
Rather than make an acknowledge the the intruder's hands continue to turn thing over and the audacity transitions Harvey's reaction from shock to outright anger. "Listen jackass, I'm only going to say this once-" his voice is clipped as he tosses the brief in his hand, "whatever you're looking for it's clearly important, ergo, not here where any Tom, Dick or Harry can just wander in and find it... so unless you want to stick around for the clean up-"
The glint of a blade stops the rant in its track and his eyes move up to the tightly knitted ski-mask covering the man's face.
It's one thing to goad a sociopath it's another to risk damaging a perfectly good suit in the process and he squares his shoulders at the situation. He has one hundred and forty six perfectly good options at his disposal. All he has to do is pick one.
"Okay, why don't we start with what you're looking for? Chances are I know where it is." The implication he's going to help is an outright lie. The only thing this son-of-a-bitch is going to get is his arse handed to him in a law-suit but he doesn't get the chance to fish for more information. Instead he's cut off by a prized basketball launching viciously through the air and he catches it inches from his face, taking a full half-a-second to reluctantly drop the memorabilia and move in pursuit of the offender.
He uses door as propulsion boosting his efforts to catch up but he nearly trips over himself when he spots Donna ahead of them. She's directly in line with the intruder and his heart slams in his throat as he shouts out a warning. She doesn't move, trapped like a god-damn deer trapped in head lights, and he kicks his legs to go faster as the man closes in grabbing her roughly and flourishing the knife dangerously close to her neck.
"Back off!"
He stops dead in his tracks, a sense of dread paralysing his ability to think rationally. He's close but not enough to advance or attack and he instinctively motions his hands in surrender risking a glance at Donna. She's hiding her fear but he can read it in her gaze along with the burning resolution he'll be able to do something. The unwavering trust makes him feel dizzy, overrun with panic, and a high pitched whine rings through his ear making the hall swim.
He can't lose her but he will if he doesn't get his shit together.
With a determined nod he swallows the dryness in his throat slowly lowering his arms. This isn't about winning, it's about Donna, and he quickly yields the impulsive side of his brain unwilling to take any chances. "Let her go and you can take what you want. She doesn't get hurt, that's the deal."
"Deal?" The man's face constricts in a sneer, "you're an arrogant piece of shit Specter."
The personal attack is unexpected but the tightness in his chest wards him off retaliating with sarcasm. Usually he likes pissing people off but if this is all about something he did then that's something he can work with. "If you're looking to settle a score then come after me. She has nothing to do with this."
He catches the slight shake of Donna's head, the plea that he barter with something other than his own life, but right now they're both shit out of luck. He doesn't have anything else and the matter it isn't up for debate. "I mean it. You want to beat the shit out of me go right ahead."
The tone is serious and regret pools in Donna's chest as she watches him square off. She should have moved, reacted, anything to avoid putting them in this position but when she'd heard shouting her instinct had been to check on him. After twelve years the urge to protect him is ingrained and it might not be a gun to her head but she's still prepared to take the bullet. "Listen, asshole-" she bites the insult out through ground teeth, "whatever you think happened, it isn't Harvey's fault-"
"Shut up!"
The knife digs deeper forcing her gaze up to the ceiling and she doesn't need to see Harvey's anger to feel it. There's a shift in the air, a tension that radiates through the grip around her sternum and when he speaks the venom splinters through his voice like breaking glass.
"Let her go," he seethes, the words vibrating with emotion, "or I swear to god touching her will be the last mistake you ever make." He's done screwing around and risks one step forward barking with conviction, "now!""
Relief slams through him as the attacker lets go but it quickly spirals into concern when she hits the ground hard at his feet. He drops instantly, ignoring the heavy fall of footsteps fleeing the scene. All he cares about is Donna and his hands skim her body in a flurry of movement checking for injuries. "Are you okay, did he hurt you?"
She shakes her head, the reassurance silenced by a loud roar of adrenaline in her ears. It's probably shock but it's also very real proof she's alive and her eyes squeeze shut as his arms guide her up into a sitting position. When she opens them again there's concern swimming in his gaze and she forces her lips into a tight smile. "I'm okay Harvey."
"You're bleeding." His eyes flash to the crimson streaking her neck and he reaches out moving her hair to inspect the cut. It's just a scratch but it shouldn't be there and the frustration flies out before he can stop it, "what the hell were you thinking, you couldn't keep your mouth shut for two damn minutes?"
She winces at the tone but doesn't give him the satisfaction of arguing back. The anger is a manifestation of his fear and when a loud sigh breaks from his mouth she accepts the silent apology splaying her arms around his neck.
He relaxes, squeezing her tightly and drawing in the comfort. He needed this more than angry words and the feeling takes hold in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't do emotions but he god-damn is tonight. He could have lost her and when she pulls back joking about scotch he takes the suggestion completely seriously, centering his weight to help them both up.
There's a slight tremble to her touch and he watches her steady the wobble keeping his hand out in support. She doesn't take it and his fingers drop to her elbow instead, his expression softening as her eyes drift up to meet him his gaze. "Hey-" he offers, a small smile resting on his lips, "You know I wouldn't let anything happen to you. There's no statue of limitation on that promise, okay?"
She appreciates the gesture even as he breaks the contact, something about calling security and finding scotch, and she nods telling him to go. Part of her is actually relived, grateful, as she retreats back into her office. She needs the time to compose herself, to forget about the look of concern burning in his gaze and the lengths he was willing to go to in an effort to protect her.
She knows he loves her and the realisation causes her body to sag unwittingly against the desk.
He loves her, but she doesn't know what that means or if she's ever going to get the opportunity to find out.
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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
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