Title: Impasse (2/2)
Pairing: Donna/Harvey
Category: Angst/Drama
Summary: "This was supposed to be hard and painful; the only things that count in life always are." Harvey pleads his case. H/D.
A/N: This fandom is much more vocal than many of the others I've enjoyed. Thank you all for the responses. To the couple of you that wished I did away with the second-person, sorry. It's a writing style that I use every so often. Other than that, this may or may not be it. I can't tell. Thanks for reading, enjoy!
.::.::.
You wait a good thirty minutes. As you do so, you finish off the bottle, an excellent red, and eat the rest of her food. You can't remember the last time you ate a full meal, and the simplicity of it all hits the spot.
You've been thinking of how to approach Donna since she left Pearson Hardman in a fireball of fury and indignation. To be honest, you had some inkling that Louis would go after her on the stand, because it's Louis, but never in your wildest imagination did you consider the degree to which he was willing to take things.
The look on her face, the utter disappointment and anger in her eyes was exactly how you'd felt for over a week. It was her actions that put you in this position to begin with. She shredded the document. She took it upon her own volition to play the odds.. She landed you in this mess.
But the night of the mock trial and the day after, you had a chance to really sit and think. Not only did you and Jessica have Hardman wanting your heads on the chopping block, but you had absolutely no one to put the whole situation into perspective. Donna was good at that.
Among other things.
Obviously, going to see your Dad was hard. More than hard, actually. It was something you always did alone, but it was something that Donna always knew about. She'd have your shot glasses sitting on your desk the night before, cleared your schedule, and provided the stonewall to the other associates and partners who blustered at your audacity to take a day off.
The trip to his grave reminded you of the day he passed away, the day you found out about Hardman, the events that led up to it, Donna's part in everything. She had such an integral role in that firm and your career… and your life. Despite your best intentions, she'd managed to wheedle her way into every dark corner and ugly shadow of your life. Not only that, but she still hung on for more.
Her old, hearing impaired neighbor lets you into her building, and you slowly climb the stairs, trying to figure out where to start. When you get on her hall, you can hear the faint sounds of music and know it's coming from her place.
As you get to her door, you know instantly that you'll have your work cut out for you. She's listening to Nina Simone - Pirate Jenny. Donna has an entire collection of women singer/songwriters that she calls her Girls, each reflects a particular mood. Pat Benatar for raging against men, Carole King for her mean reds à la Holly Go-Lightly, Janis Joplin for going out, but the worst, the absolute worst of the pack is Barbara Streisand. All bets are off when she's got Barbara going. The most recent and surprising addition is Adele. She made you listen to the vinyl in your office after work one day. Made you — at least, that's what you keep telling yourself.
You knock on her door once. Twice. Three times. Finally she turns down the music. She pads over to the door a slings it open.
"Damnit Harvey, just go away."
You stand opposite her and you stare at each other for a couple seconds. Her hair is swept up into a messy bun, her eyes are red rimmed and raw, and she's changed into yoga pants. Defeated. She looks defeated. By your posture and the look on your face, she realizes you came for a fight that you intend to win. She draws herself up to full height and squares her shoulders.
"What is the first thing you ever said to me?" You ask, matching her pose. She doesn't respond right away, just releases this tired, frustrated breath.
"Get your grubby hands off my stapler and your goddamn files off my desk, I'm not your mom, I'm not your wife, and I sure as hell am not your maid."
You smile, because the way she says it is the exact same way she said it all those years ago. You begin a rapid fire question session, to which she matches perfectly. She'd be a formidable opponent in the courtroom, no doubt.
"Did you ever cut me any slack?"
"Of course not."
"Did you ever let me take you out on that date?"
"Not then and not ever."
"Did you leave the DA's office because you were in love with me or because you thought Cameron Dennis was a corrupt man?"
"The second one."
"When you came to Pearson Hardman, did people give you a hard time for working for me?"
"Yes."
"Did it bother you what other people said about us?"
"Every once in a while."
"But you stayed with me. Why?" You've slowly edged your way forward, your pit-bull style type of questioning working much in your favor.
"I was good at my job, I liked the people, and it was steady pay."
"Was there ever a time when you thought I'd trade you for someone else?"
"No," she shoots back, anticipating your follow up. "I know too much about you. I know how you operate. I know what you want before you want it half the time. That was why we worked."
You take in her words then press on. "Do you think I'd ever destroy evidence?"
She hesitates then answers slowly. "When you were younger, no. But now? I don't know anymore."
"Is that why you did it? Not because it was expected of you, but because I'm becoming someone you don't quite recognize? Someone that — five, ten years ago, would be appalled at the thought, but now? You aren't so sure."
Donna doesn't answer and she takes a step back. She crosses her arms across her chest protectively and bites her lip.
"Harvey —" she can't answer. She can't or she won't, you don't know.
"You got rid of that document because you figured somehow I'd be okay with it, that the end would justify the means," your voice is quiet and her gaze is elsewhere. "You know how ruthless I can be. You know how driven I am. You know most every move I make. You wouldn't think destroying evidence was okay, unless I somehow conveyed that feeling, that idea to you."
You slump against her door frame, so completely in her space, and yet she won't step aside, won't let you in. Not this time. You lost that right.
"I've been thinking a lot lately, about how you, me, and Jessica managed to get rid of Hardman the first time." You pause for a moment, not for effect, but because of the difficulty in saying the words. "I also remember someone telling me that I'd lost my way."
You exhale slowly and watch as her eyes work their way up the buttons of your shirt. "At the time, I disagreed wholeheartedly. I deal — dealt, with things my own way. How dare this person impress her standards upon me. But now I realize she was speaking to my overall moral fiber, my ethical conduct. She saw me going down a path, much like the one you feared when we were at the DA's Office."
She's watching you in rapt silence. Taking in your words, your greater meaning in this whole presentation of sorts. You want to stop, want to steady yourself. You want her to let you in.
"I think that maybe I've started going down a path that I don't know how to get off of," you hear your heartbeat in your ears, each pounding stroke, "and I think I took you with me this time."
You see a tear streak down her cheek, and another and another. You want to catch them all and give them away. But this was supposed to be hard and painful; the only things that count in life always are.
"And for that, Donna, I am truly sorry. Because if I'd been doing my job properly, if I was being the man and the lawyer that I've always thought I'd be, that my Dad wanted me to be, then you wouldn't have hesitated in coming to me with the truth. The thought of destroying evidence wouldn't have crossed your mind because you'd have known that I wouldn't stand for it, that I still don't stand for it."
For a moment, you can't continue. It's getting unusually hot in her hallway and you need to take a step back, look away for a second and regroup. When you turn back to her, she's got a box of tissues in her hand and is sopping up her face like a mop. You can always tell her real tears from the fake ones, because she is not a pretty crier, not in the slightest. Her face blotches up, her eyes redden, and she loses her voice.
"I'm not here to excuse what you did. I know that you're sorry. I know that you had my best intentions at heart, but I swear to God, you've got to stop mothering me. If I'm going to make a mistake, let me be the one to make it. And when I inevitably do, I will always expect you to help me out. Because that's what…" you stop for a minute and wait until her eyes meet yours, "that's what best friends are for."
"Harvey," she croaks and it's horrible, "don't do that. Don't go the sentimental route. I can't take it right now."
"Then let me finish, and I'll let you switch over to Barbara and go pick up some ice cream for you."
"Damnit, I'm serious."
You smile at her her, patient and pleading. "You're right. I didn't fight for you. And to be honest, you're the one person I never thought I'd have to fight for. You've always, always had my back and the one time you needed me, I wasn't there. I don't know how to fix what happened in the past, but I can promise you that I will spend everyday trying."
"What are you saying?" she whispers, tucking stray strands behind her ear. You watch as she tosses the box on her counter and swipes the rest of the tears from her eyes. She mirrors your observation and a frown slowly crawls across her face. Her head is already shaking 'no' before the words leave her mouth.
"Are you kidding me? No. Harvey, NO." She pushes her hair out of her face, completely at a loss as to what to do with you. "You stood by as I was completely humiliated in front of all the senior partners. ALL OF THEM. I'm not coming back."
"I think they can respect that you didn't perjure yourself on the stand."
"Don't push it, buddy. I never answered Louis."
"Donna, we've worked together for over ten years. We're practically family. Of course there is going to be some attachment made. It'd be ludicrous to think otherwise."
"But it was the way Louis drove at the heart of my intentions that I don't like."
"Donna, he simply voiced what everyone has been wondering for years. Why does it bother you so much now?"
She's getting cagey again and you may have pushed too far. Time to back off. "That was crass, disregard what I said. All I'm asking, is that you give me a second chance. Give me a trial run."
Her eyes narrow at you and she gets a gleam in her eyes. "How do you know I don't already have plans? What makes you think I'm just sitting around with nothing better to do?"
"Please," you try hard not to roll your eyes. "If you were going on vacation, you'd have left the minute Norma texted you to say we settled. If you were going to work elsewhere, you'd have already let yourself get snatched up from one of the twelve law firms that have requested character references from me. And if you'd gotten a part in some shitty play, you'd have been drinking champagne earlier, not your mean red wine."
She might not think so, most won't, but you know Donna Paulsen very well. Too well, sometimes.
"God, you're impossible."
She hasn't said 'No' again which means you've almost won her over. It's this kind of strategy that makes you the best at what you do.
"I'm not God, but you'll be the first to know when I take over. Now, we have the vote tomorrow as to whether or not they want to oust Jessica as Managing Partner. If all goes as planned, I can expect you back at work the day after."
"You're assuming I'm actually going to come back."
"How about I give you the most important role of your acting career? Convince Louis that Jessica is the way to go. You do that, and not only will Jessica have to hire you back, but we'll be able to get rid of Hardman again."
"What if I fail?"
"I'm sorry, who are you?" You ask her incredulously. "That phrase was foreign to your vocabulary last time I checked."
"Seriously Harvey, I can't have something this important resting on my shoulders."
"Donna, Jessica and I will get him 70% of the way there. I just need you to be my ace up my sleeve."
She arches her eyebrows at you coyly as you roll your eyes, disregarding her look. "Come on, what do you say?"
Her silence actually makes you pause because she is truly deliberating. She isn't completely sold and you need her to be all in. But then she seems to realize what the bigger picture is, and that's earning back your trust. She could just as easily throw you and Jessica under the bus tomorrow, but it's a risk you're willing to take. Donna seems to mull this over, looks you in the eyes for such a long time that you almost forget what you came for. In another life perhaps…
"Let's see how the vote goes tomorrow. Then we'll talk about the rest." Quid pro quo.
"Thank you, Donna. Deal?" You stick your hand out to shake on it, just like you did ten years ago over a silly bet. She reaches out, her own hand warm in yours. You may have shaken, or simply stood there dumbly. It doesn't matter, because she's agreed to help you and the firm.
"Deal."
.::.
When you arrive home later that evening, you find a message on your voicemail:
"Don't forget the thumbtacks you conniving bastard. Otherwise, I'll shove the can opener where the sun don't shine." A beat. "Sweet dreams."
That night, you sleep better than you have in weeks.
.::.::.::.
fin?
.::.::.::.
A/N: I do have a small follow/up in mind, but we'll see how this sucker turns out first. Let me know what you guys think. Thanks once again!