A/N: This is kind of a plotless, introspective glance at Harvey and Donna's newfound intimacy. It kind of wrote itself, honestly. Hope everyone likes it :) Let me know your thoughts!

Roommates

He knows a bunch of stuff about her. A lot of weird details about her that have been accumulated over years of looking up and seeing her sitting by her desk outside his office. Of walking through the hallways of the firm with her by his side. Late night drinks in his office and, recently, hers. And she knows him, everyone knows that — more than he knows himself, he's not afraid to say.

Over the years he's prided himself in learning her quirks — from a distance, usually. He knows that when she's frustrated she'll click and change colors in her pen and then go back to the original twice. He knows that she will always arrive at least fifteen minutes late to a function because that means she'll get the attention she thinks — and knows — she deserves. Despite what she may say about his clothes, she will always wear black when she wants to hide something.

And he knows her too — what's her favorite song from his dad's album. Her newest favorite handbag (a gray one from Hérmes, he personally likes that one too). He knows she takes Pilates classes twice a week and she has a manicure every two weeks. He knows how she takes her coffee (vanilla, whipped cream and skimmed milk — two sugars when she's feeling self-conscious for whatever reason; three if it's a normal day; four if she feels as if she's earned it). She loves regular milk chocolate and pistachios. Hates coconut. Her favorite restaurant is still Del Posto, and her favorite place to get breakfast is the diner near her place — where they settled the deal of her working for him, where he admitted to her he was bothered by her relationship with Stephen Huntley.

Nowadays they go there simply for breakfast, on Sundays. He's had his run, and she's done her yoga, and they walk there and she orders waffles and he orders pancakes and they end up sharing both, because she also loves pancakes and he doesn't mind sharing with her.

And, sure, they had an intimacy of sorts before — he knew exactly what she looked like naked, a picture he had tried to forget for nearly thirteen years but it had been impossible to do so. He knew she was ticklish under her knees, and that she'd shiver when he pressed his lips to that spot where her neck meets her shoulder. Things he used to try to forget, but would always remember.

Being in a relationship with Donna let out a side of her he didn't know before — and he loves finding new things about her. And hates some of them too. Like how she leaves her heels by the door every time she gets home and only picks them up after she's relaxed a bit. She has way too many clothes — in fact it was a pain to find him a drawer to keep some things in her apartment. Before he knew it, however, she managed to clear a whole section of his closet for her clothes, and he's pretty sure at least half the things in his bathroom cabinet are hers. He finds her hair all over the floor around his condo, so much that he had to ask her if it was normal, and she only glared at him. She talks about wanting to eat healthy all the time, but only when he does the cooking — fine, so maybe he never really did that well on the healthy food department, but he's a decent cook.

He also found out that she loves to take bubble baths when she has the time — explains all the new condiments by his bathtub; some of the scents make him a little sick, honestly — and that she doesn't actually take that long to get ready for work or an event — sometimes he'll take longer than her — and he loves the way she holds his arm close to her body when they are together outside, without the pressure of work around them.

He makes a habit of learning a new thing about her body anytime they're intimate — how she likes to be touched and what she enjoys doing to him. He likes that they can be adventurous and he likes that they can be lazy and they don't even have to talk about it for it to happen — she just gets him, and he gets her. And that thing she did the other time — well, time clearly only made her better at it. He loves that thing. Sex has never been so easy.

Communication isn't their best feature, but they're trying. Six months in, he thinks they've made a lot of progress, though it was hard at first. They're both independent, and they like their space, but he's always a little sad when he gets home and she isn't there — sometimes she'll text him saying she'll spend the night at her place, or sometimes she'll arrive later, but the truth is that he wants her around all the time, and he thinks it's the same for her because she always ends up asking him to go to her apartment afterwards. They rarely have nights off as it is, but when they do happen, he misses her more than ever.

Which is why the next night they'll most likely spend a few hours making up for lost time, and consequently they'll end up arriving late to work the next day.

Which she hates. And he hates that she's so inflexible about work hours. He's never minded taking a morning off because of a woman, although he was always mindful of work — but with Donna, he kind of wants to take the whole day off. Scratch that, the entire week off. Maybe just retire altogether. That's the point he's reached, and it's a new low for him. Or maybe a new high.

He thinks it's a high point, truthfully. And he's always liked the view from the top.

And today was a especially draining day for him — a trial that has a lot of problems, meaning many hours without seeing Donna. And so he's really happy when he opens his door and sees her heels near the windows, even if it annoys him a little.

The condo is silent, though. He puts his keys on the kitchen counter, and sees a little bit of her everywhere — the throwaway blanket on the couch, near the fireplace; a novel she's been reading on the coffee table. There's a mug in the sink so he knows she drank coffee when she arrived and didn't bother putting it in the dishwasher just yet. The cactus she bought him years ago in the living room, now with another plant as company — he can't remember the name, but Donna waters it constantly. The flowers on the kitchen counter are the ones he bought her last week, just because he knows she loves flowers.

He proceeds to his bedroom, taking off his jacket and tie.

"Hey," he calls, when sees the lights on in the adjacent bathroom. "I'm home."

It's a weird sentence to say — and in the past such things never left his lips when talking to past lovers. But he finds he doesn't mind it with Donna.

"Took you long enough," he hears her say.

He takes off his shoes and socks and walks to the doorway, leaning against it to appreciate the sight before him.

Donna, in his bathtub, taking a bubble bath. He likes the scents she chose for today. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head and she looks away from her cell phone when she notices him, giving him a very relaxed smile.

"Hey, stranger," she says.

"One of those days, huh?" He asks, leaving the doorway and unbuttoning his cufflinks.

He approaches the tub and leans down to greet her with a kiss.

"You know it," Donna says, putting her phone away and resting her head against the tub as he steps away. "How was the trial?"

Harvey made a face. "Not ideal, but we'll win."

He watches from the mirror as she closes her eyes. "We always do."

It brings a smile to his face — the 'we'. They've always been a team. Now more than ever. He told her when they started this, he wanted everything with her. But right then, everything was abstract — just whatever the future had in store for him, he wanted her in it. Now it's less abstract and more like a goal — he just wants her, all the time. In his bed, in his life — when he goes to sleep and when he wakes up. To have breakfast and dinner with her, discuss things like decoration and meeting each other's parents and maybe having a family of their own. He wants everything with her, because she's everything to him.

"I ran into Margaret today, by chance," he starts, unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. This makes Donna open her eyes. "You remember Margaret, right?"

"You know I do."

"And I mentioned to her that I've been thinking of finding a bigger place," Harvey tells her.

A grin forms on Donna's lips.

"You have, haven't you?"

"And she tells me she has just the right place for me. Think you're free next Thursday for us to take a look?"

He unbuckles his belt, as casual as he can be, as he waits for an answer.

"Sure, I did help you choose this condo a couple years ago."

"That was different."

"How so?"

He takes off his pants, and Donna seems to be enjoying the situation a little too much — her eyes are sparkling in mischief, her finger tracing her lips as she watches him undress. The bubbles are becoming a little scarce now, but he still can't really see anything but her shoulders underwater, which is just a shame.

"Well, we weren't planning on you living here back then," he retorts.

She lets out a chuckle, unable to hold it in anymore.

"The closet situation is spinning out of control very quickly," she says seriously.

"We'll both get our own closets, that's a done deal," he assures her. It's not a lie.

"And we should have a guest bedroom. For when our relatives visit," she adds.

Harvey frowns. "They always stay in hotels."

"My parents always stay with me. Or you, for that matter," she says with a chuckle.

He makes a face. "Fine. And another bedroom, just in case."

"Make that two. Just in case," Donna continues. He smiles. "You should have your own study. Oh, I'd like one too."

"We can share," he offers. "You do your yoga while I work."

"You say that as if you'd ever get any work done," she retorts.

He takes off his underwear, mindful of her eyes on him, and takes a step towards the bathtub.

"You're not showering?" Donna asks.

"It is my bathtub, you know," Harvey says. "Scoot over."

"That's so sexy," she snorts, quickly moving so he can join her. "You better make the most of it, because soon what's yours will be mine, apparently."

He gets in with some care, because they might have made good use of the tub before, but he had almost sprained an ankle then and he's not keen on repeating it. He leans back against the tub and breathes in deeply when Donna pressed her back to his chest, leaning against him. He moves his hands around her waist and keeps her close.

"This conversation was easier than I thought it would be," he admits, pressing his lips against her ear when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Donna frowns. "Why?"

"I've been hearing you say you hate roommates for over a decade."

She laughs. "We've been roommates for a few months, honey."

"Not officially."

"Does this mean we're going steady now?" She teases him.

He moves his hands to cup her breasts — he can't look, but at least he can touch now.

"You're such a pain in the ass," he complains, noticing how her breath hitches just slightly. "I love you."

"Mm, love you too."

He relaxes then, the warm water and Donna's body doing wonders to the stress of the day. He feels less drained already — he presses a kiss against her neck and smiles at her closed eyes and content expression on her face. His hands keep moving, not really wanting to hurry into anything right now, and his lips find her shoulder and he smiles inwardly when she shivers at the touch, just like she did over a decade ago, just like she does every time he does this.

"We could have done this a long time ago," he mumbles, just because.

He's still mad that it's taken them so long to get their heads — and hearts — straight.

"Hmm, maybe," Donna says quietly, not opening her eyes yet. "But I'd have hated being housemates and seeing you pick up women all the time. And I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have wanted to be around my ex-boyfriends."

"Do you have to bring them up?" He groans against her skin.

"Who, the women or the exes?"

"Both."

"Well, we wouldn't be who we are now without them, I suppose."

He smiles. "I love it when you get philosophical," he presses a loud kiss against her shoulder, and she wiggles a little, her legs resting against his.

"What can I say? It's a gift," Donna says, one of her hands tracing circles against his thigh.

He knows how she sees it — they're exactly where they're supposed to be. And though he's angry at himself for wasting so much time, he agrees with her. If anything, it makes him appreciate her even more — bubble baths and packed closets and plants and all. She wouldn't change a thing, he knows.

And if he truly thinks about it, neither would he.