10 - DUCK, DUCK, GOOSE
Just as Harvey's lips brushed against hers, the door behind Donna suddenly flew wide open.
The startling brightness briefly blinded Harvey, but fortunately, didn't leave him pea-brained. He leveraged the extra space the open door allowed to pivot Donna around. In one motion, he hid her behind his body, pushed the uninvited guest away, stalked out of the room and shut the door. Extending to his full height, Harvey was the epitome of a dapper mortal barricade.
"Move away," the intruder grunted, an odd mix of frustration and despair etched on his face. At first glance, the sandy-haired man looked civilized enough; standing a few inches taller than Harvey, he donned a blazer with an open collar shirt. Beyond appearances, however, everything else about this force of instability screamed bad news. He also reeked of alcohol. "Moron! Are you deaf or dumb? MOVE! That's her inside, isn't it?"
Her. Dread knotted in Harvey's stomach as he glared at Wobbly. There was no chance he was letting the drunk anywhere near Donna. Squaring his shoulders, Harvey commanded through gritted teeth, "Leave...before I call security."
"Shit! You're Harvey! The Harvey Specter?" The man rubbed his bloodshot eyes, as if a clearer vision would confirm anything.
"Have we met before?" Harvey asked impatiently.
"No, but we're definitely not strangers." The unidentified man's features twisted into one of disgust, measuring Harvey from head to toe. "So you're the reason Donna's been holding back on me. Her boss." Hell, the word 'boss' even came with air quotes. After a mirthless snicker, he continued, "She's been sleeping with you all this time, hasn't she? But honestly, I never thought she'd be the quickie-in-the-office type-"
"Shut the hell up or I'll beat the shit out of you," Harvey warned, clenching his fists to keep his rage in check. He didn't make it a habit to fight with drunks, but for this scum, he was more than willing to make an exception.
Said scum was obviously bored of living because the man just wouldn't keep his damn mouth shut.
"Donna! I can't believe you gave us up for this fancy pansy!" the man barked at the door before sneering at Harvey. "She's a good lay, isn't she? Slut."
"You son of a bitch!" Without thought, Harvey slammed his fist into the man's face and sent him sprawling to the floor. In a flash, Harvey closed the gap and grabbed him by the lapels.
"Harvey, stop!"
From the corner of his eyes, Harvey caught Donna exiting the storeroom. He quickly ordered, "Get back in there!"
"Take that, asshole!" Temporarily distracted, Harvey was blindsided when a hard punch struck his left jaw, abruptly jerking his head to the side. It probably hurt like crazy, but his seething senses didn't let him feel much of anything, save for the dull humming in his ears. Seeing red, Harvey ducked an incoming blow and jabbed the man in the stomach twice before hurling him off.
Sobering hands clutched his forearm. Donna's. "Don't, Harvey!"
The dirtbag groaned in agony, his body curling into a ball. Shaking off Donna's grip, Harvey prowled forward.
"Harvey!" This time, it was Mike's voice that halted his advance. The junior partner barged in, followed by two other associates. And they all wielded forks in their hands. If it weren't for the severe state of affairs, their ridiculous weapon of choice would have elicited a laugh from Harvey.
"We heard noises…," Mike broke off as he took in the scene and wisely instructed the associates to haul the half-conscious stranger away. Once alone, he inquired with visible concern, "Donna? Harvey? Are you...?"
Harvey belatedly realized that he'd not uttered a word for a long time. He was still infuriated, but Donna gripped his arm so tightly that he read her need for him to keep it together.
"We're fine," Harvey answered with forced poise. Next to him, Donna nodded, her grasp relaxing a notch at his assurance. With a conscious attempt to lighten the mood for Donna's sake, Harvey pointed to the deadly tool in Mike's hand. "Forks? Really? What were you guys planning to do? Poke the attacker in the butt to see if he was well-done?"
Pocketing the embarrassing item away, Mike justified, "We were in the pantry when we heard noises, and it was a choice between forks, spoons, or Louis's prunie. None of us wanted to sit through his eerie Litt's Precious Untouchables lecture, so yes, forks." Mike shrugged in good humor. "Anyway, if you're both alright, I'll go and sort things out with security."
With the anger subsiding, Harvey's shot nerves began to feel the full extent of the pain. His knuckles, his jaw - they were burning with an intensifying throb; still, Harvey smiled, not wanting Mike or Donna to worry about insignificant bruises. "Thanks, Mike. Make sure they don't let that dickhead into the building again."
Mike nodded once, and out of loyalty, he did not pry. Before taking his leave though, he just had to make a cheeky remark. Except this one completely backfired. "I didn't mean to interfere with your…Uh-Activity."
Mike's gaze wandered towards Donna's hand on Harvey's arm, the tiny storeroom, and back to Harvey's face. Then, he actually blushed.
Wonderful! It was clear as day that the junior partner thought Harvey had been caught engaging in a scandalous act with Donna. To be fair, Mike wasn't entirely mistaken given what Harvey had been up to before the interruption. Playing on keen eyes, he decided to feed Mike his own pill.
"Take a walk, Mike, so we can continue our Uh-Activity." Harvey heavily laced each word with a suggestive tone and ended it with a wicked wink.
Mike's eyes rounded in shock as an awkward silence settled between them. Dead air. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. And suddenly, he screamed, "Ahhh! My mind just imploded! Dear God! Make me unsee and forget that image!" With that, Mike cradled his head in his palms and sprinted out of the room amidst the sound of Harvey's evil laughter.
"Uh-Activity?" Donna repeated with a half-smile. When she turned to Harvey again though, a frown instantly set in.
Donna gently grazed his knuckles, now swollen and marred with an angry red.
"Here, let me," she said, tugging off her scarf to wrap it gingerly around his injury. They both understood that it was more of a sentimental gesture because the piece of thin fabric possessed absolutely no healing qualities. Harvey welcomed the silky coolness against his burning skin, but the pink floral pattern? Not so much. It was too feminine next to his dark suit. Even so, he allowed Donna to work on her handicraft since it gave them both time to sort out their own thoughts.
"We should get that checked out," she suggested, referring to his jaw as she carefully tied a knot around his wrist. He waved off her concern, but she was still too tense. Too anxious. At this rate, she'd soon close him off completely.
Smiling to appease her, he held up his hand-of-art and gave it a curious study. Donna watched him so intently that he couldn't help but tease, "If I had known that you have a thing for the hand-scarf look, I would have worn it to work everyday. Should we also add a bow to my hair to complete the ensemble?" His silly jest earned him a grin. It was time to get some answers.
"Donna, what was that all about?"
"That was me...embracing the Spirit of Avoidance," she offered, the evasive answer an appropriate demonstration of her made-up cult.
"Thank you, Master Obvious. Who was that? And since when does the fearless Donna avoid anyone?"
The silent pause went on for so long that Harvey almost gave up, thinking she'd never respond. Then, she surprised him with an answer. "Since I dated and very callously broke up with the man."
Harvey inclined his head, quietly asking.
"You just met Mitchell."
Mitchell. The ex-boyfriend who Harvey had never desired to know. Mitchell was one of Donna's more serious relationships, and though Harvey would never admit it, he'd not been able to bring himself to get acquainted with a man who Donna could potentially settle down with. His ego would not allow it. His heart didn't even acknowledge it.
Harvey furrowed his brows. "I never would have guessed. That piece of shit was Mitchell?"
"Yes. Actually, I've never seen him so out of control."
"What was he doing here?" Harvey both dreaded and anticipated her answer as he pressed, "Are you two still...?"
"A couple? No. But he wants to get back together, and I've been avoiding his calls. He used to show up knocking at my apartment. When I moved to your place, it sort of took care of that. I never thought he'd come to the firm. When I saw him earlier, I panicked."
"Why have you never said anything to me?"
While relieved that Donna had dodged a bullet with that sorry excuse of a man, Harvey was annoyed that she hadn't trusted him enough to share her troubles. He could have protected her better if he'd known.
"Because I was afraid whatever just happened would happen. You two beating the crap out of each other. That's why I dragged you away. I didn't want him to see you. With me." Hiding her face from Harvey, she clarified, "I'm not proud of it, but I did hurt Mitchell. When we broke up, we had the fight of the century. He made me feel like everything I've ever achieved…it's because you and I...anyway, I wish people would see more when they look at me."
Piecing her unspoken words together with Mitchell's accusations, Harvey had an inkling of how disastrous their break up was.
'I wish people would see more when they look at me.'
People. Plural. Recurring.
Harvey was well aware that their relationship had marked the rumor mills on and off; he just didn't think it rattled her anymore. Then, the bastard discounted Donna's worth by labeling her success as something she'd earned by dishing out personal favors. That alone was sufficient justification for Mitchell to suffer the blows. No, Harvey could think of a hundred other things he'd rather do to that piece of shit. Mike's fork, included.
"Donna?" Harvey prompted when he caught her frown. He waited for her to meet his eyes before he said, "You're never less. Not to me. Never have been. Never will be."
Her expression softened momentarily at his words, but as if convinced otherwise, Donna shook her head and insisted, "Promise me that you won't go after him, Harvey."
With great reluctance, he eventually nodded. "Only if you promise to tell me the second Mitchell bothers you again."
She conceded, wearing an easy smile for him - except this one was tinged with sadness. Then, out of the blue, Donna threw him a curve ball. Evidently, she was determined to put the entire predicament behind them. "Why are you here? You in a file room just seems...wrong. It's like Superman showing up at a used car tent."
Recalling why he'd originally sought her out, Harvey explained, "I have to attend a fundraiser this Saturday. Will you join me? Jessica can't make it, and I really don't want to bring Louis. Crime rates are high enough as it is. Let's not add 'Hunky Lawyer Whacks Chatty Colleague' to the headlines."
"Hunky?" Donna's mouth twitched at his conceited vanity.
He winked. "My make-believe reporter has good taste."
"Or needs a pair of glasses," Donna chipped in, drawing a mock pout from him.
"Yes, sunglasses. To protect her eyes from going blind when she's exposed to all this hunkiness." It sounded so stupid that he could barely keep a straight face. One glance at his floral-scarfed hand and the self-proclaimed hunky creds immediately flatlined. "Okay, that's horribly lame. But I haven't told you the best part yet. The NYC Theater Company is performing at the event." Donna's grin deepened, and he eagerly fired one more ammunition of persuasion. "Featuring Ashley..."
"Vale?" Excitement flooded her features. At Harvey's nod, she reconfirmed, "Are you sure you want to take me? These fundraisers are for making new connections."
Screw new connections, his brain screamed. At the moment, there was only one connection he was interested in:
***WiFi: Donna-Harvey
***Signal strength: Weak as hell (and still friend-zoned)
***Diagnostic: Unplanned crap (such as drunk ex-boyfriend) kept getting in the way
***Status: As connected as a giraffe to a soy latte
Not giving up, Harvey tried connecting once more. "Please, Donna?"
Her eyes flickered towards his injured hand and his probably-by-now purplish bruised jaw. "Since you said 'please'," Donna agreed, seemingly wanting to make up for his misfortune. Before Harvey could address her guilt, she added, "Oh, I have to find something nice to wear! I'm definitely not losing to you in the fashion department."
Harvey chuckled at her competitive spirit and offered, "You're covered because today is Secretary Day."
Rolling her eyes, she refuted, "It's not Secretary Day."
"Honestly, Donna, I don't give a damn what day it is." If he had a choice, he'd make it Secretary Day everyday for her. He pulled his credit card out and placed it in her palm. "This one's on me. Go crazy. Shoes. Dresses. Whatever you need."
Donna slipped the card right back into his pocket. "I already know what to wear. As for the color of your tie? Davy's gray to match my dress."
Women and their myriad shades of colors. Harvey had no idea how the gray of some guy named Davy was different to...well, the generic gray. He mentally added to his to-do list: Call tailor urgently for grayish tie.
Cheerfully, he mocked, "Should I also get you a pair of sunglasses for the event? You know, so you won't blind your eyes with all this..."
He was gesturing at himself when Donna cut in, "If you say the H-word again, I will let you attend the fundraiser with the notorious Chatty Colleague instead."
"Cruel, cruel woman." Harvey shivered dramatically, and a laugh spilled from Donna's lips. The sound was so wonderfully spirited that he couldn't stop himself from smiling back.
"Davy's gray tie. Got it! Consider yourself, I mean your dress, matched."
A/N: As always, thank you for reading and reviewing. Next chapter: pretty people in pretty attires (doing pretty things). *If you ever discover the Donna-Harvey WiFi connection on your smartphone, the login password is: Uh-Activity.