11 - BLIP


Warning: There's a cliff(hanger) at the end of this chapter. To stop at safe zone, when you spot the word 'Relax', please do not read further. Got an adventurous soul? Go all the way! I'll be dangling on the edge!


"Pacing is meditative...my ass," Harvey muttered under his breath. Whoever came up with that idiotic concept obviously never had to almost date a best friend. For thirty minutes or so, Harvey had tried to attain some peace of mind only to find his feet pacing themselves into Anxietyville.

He was Harvey Specter, who had a way with women. Why couldn't he get it together for this particular one? The reason was simple. There was no copy-and-paste function he could - or was willing to - use from his playbook. With Donna, he'd suddenly turned into a novice all over again. Calming his nerves, Harvey raised a hand to knock on her bedroom door.

"Donna, you ready? Ray's waiting downstairs."

"Be right out!"

When she finally appeared, Harvey's turbo-powered cognitive functions could only perform a single task: Gawk-at-Donna.

Her dazzling eyes, accentuated by long lashes, shone with life. The highly anticipated Davy's gray dress graciously flowed across one shoulder and hugged her body to perfection. With vibrant red curls highlighting her sensual lips, Donna was a sight of fiery beauty.

"Harvey, if you're going to uselessly stand there and stare-"

"You look amazing."

"I know." She nodded, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling at her trademark confidence. "You don't look too bad yourself. And I'm impressed! You managed to get the tie color correct too! Come here, Harvey."

Spellbound, his feet obediently took him to her. Donna tip-toed to get a better look at his jaw. "Thank God, the bruise is fading. Does it still hurt?"

Distracted by the alluring scent of her perfume, he answered in foreign language: Grunt-ish. "Krrr." His own ears picked up the weird sound he'd uttered, and it effectively smacked some sense back into him. "I mean, no."

She soothingly brushed a finger over the bruise before moving down to straighten his tie. For years, these little gestures - fixing his tie, fastening his cufflinks, smoothing out his cowlicks - had become an essential part of Harvey's life. Never once had every tug and pull felt so intimately consuming like it did now. It was an overwhelming realization of how he'd taken so much of Donna's thoughtfulness for granted.

He thrusted the box in his hand forward. "A gift."

"For me?"

"No. I like to show off boxes to redheads as a hobby," Harvey drawled, scoring a small chuckle from her.

"I know you're a movie junkie, but I swear if you're re-enacting Pretty Woman, I will thump you on the head," Donna teased. "It's too bad you're not Edward Lewis."

He hadn't planned for it, but she was right. It did look like a rip-off scene from the movie. But Harvey was certain that he was better than some fictional businessman. At the very least, this lawyer was...tangible. Real, breathing, and standing right in front of her. He was also holding a gift that she still hadn't accepted. Harvey objected, "Donna! It's a present. Just take it already!"

She eyed him skeptically before taking the box. As soon as she opened it, her shoulders stiffened and her entire body went motionless. On behalf of the Statue of Paulsen, Harvey retrieved the white-gold charm bracelet and cast the box aside.

"No bulls this time," Harvey said, referring to her infamous bullfighting bracelet.

He'd ordered the piece shortly after Louis's case - because for one, Harvey hadn't been too thrilled about being the bull. Work had also recently been so dull that the redhead seemed to occupy his every thought. Mostly, he just wanted to do something nice for Donna, and tonight's occasion presented a great opportunity.

Cliché? Yes.

Nervous? Beyond imagination.

Anxiety level on a scale from one to five? Eighty-four.

Donna was the guru of gifting while Harvey's default style was to go for the most expensive item he could find. For that reason, she'd once scolded him for buying a $12,000 bottle of scotch, labeling his present as 'generic'. Knowing how Donna placed great value in personal details, a specific kitchen tool had come to mind for a charm design. Harvey could still vividly recall the peculiar look he'd earned from the jeweler at the mention of a 'can opener'.

"A can opener? You say, this is…for a lady. Correct?" the jeweler asked, his Italian accent amplified with bafflement. Harvey didn't blame the artisan's need for confirmation. What intelligent man would request a 'can opener' for a charm? As a romantic token, too.

"Yes," Harvey said. "Can you make it? I can send pictures if it helps."

"It's not a problem. I can make anything you want. But only bartenders and alcoholics will appreciate...a can opener, no?" the other man insisted, undoubtedly still worried for Harvey's sanity. "Are you sure you don't want a butterfly, a rose, or a heart? Women like 'pretty' designs."

Butterflies and roses for Donna? Sure, if he wanted to commit gifting suicide. Harvey appropriately filtered his response. "No. She'll think it's too...common."

The jeweler finally conceded and smiled. "Okay. You know best, Signor Specter. But your lady…she is...unconventional, I must say."

My lady. Harvey liked the sound of it. "Yes. She's definitely one of a kind."

Willing his fingers to remain steady, Harvey circled the band around Donna's wrist before clasping the lock.

"There. Custom made for the world's one and only COO - Can Opener Officer." He ended his little speech with a smile only to find Donna studying the bracelet in silence. When his thumb hovered over her wrist, he felt her racing pulse. Lowering his head, he tried to catch her eyes. "You…uh...don't like it?"

Donna de-statued at his direct inquiry. "I do. I really do. But I can't accept this. It is too-"

"Late! We're going to be late," he cut in and nudged her towards the front door. He had no interest in starting a debate on value and worth. Not when she deserved it all. Everything. Anything.


Half the city's executives decided to show up at the fundraiser, making it impossible to avoid familiar faces. With so many PSL clients in attendance, Harvey was forced to operate in named partner mode as he mingled, clinked glasses, and engaged in small talks. To spare Donna the misery, he'd asked her to explore the exhibition without him. Needless to say, Harvey was greatly relieved when they announced that the stage performance was about to begin. If it weren't for mature, judgmental adults surrounding him, the prospect of seeing Donna again was enough to make Harvey take off in a jolly sprint. From a distance, he spotted her by the theater's entrance.

"Did you have fun?" she asked, knowing full well that he'd spent the past hour hiding tears of social agony.

"Why, of course. My mind is still waving celebratory pom-poms," Harvey said dryly. Her lips curved upwards into a radiant smile, one so riveting that he simply couldn't look away. She'd been fiercely exquisite before. Softened by the gentle glow of the moonlight, Donna was incredibly lovely. The lingering stares of the male guests walking by only confirmed Harvey's assessment. "Judging by the number of heads you've turned tonight, you're easily the most beautiful woman here. I never should have left your side. I get jealous when other men stare, you know?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Such nonsense."

Harvey paused at her deflection, his jaw hardening. "You never think I'm serious."

"Because you usually aren't. Not when it's about…" Donna's voice faded when the announcement boomed through the speakers once more. "Let's go, Harvey. The performance is starting."

What had she planned to say? About feelings? About her?

Though bothered by Donna's poor perception of him, Harvey directed her forward anyway. The night was young, and he wasn't about to let 'never serious' ruin it.


While Donna watched the performance with absolute devotion, Harvey watched her instead. He observed every emotion that played through her features with utmost intrigue. Only when the curtain call began did Harvey turn his attention towards the stage. And for the first time all evening, he took a good look at the lead actress. With an impressive high voice and a sophisticated air about her, he could see why the actress was Donna's theatrical idol. But remarkable, as Louis had described her? Maybe not.

"And finally, let us welcome Ashley Vale onto the stage," the emcee announced.

Harvey blinked, wondering why the actress was being re-announced.

Amidst a standing ovation, the exceptionally blonde lead actor - who Harvey had ignored all performance - took center stage.

As realization dawned on him, Harvey cursed inwardly. Goddamn, holy shit of all hell! Ashley is a M.A.N. with facial hair and all!

Harvey's mind ran through the long list of profanities he'd collected over his forty plus years of 'Ashley-is-a-woman's-name' life, trying to reconcile reality with his misassumptions. In truth, Ashley was really a gender neutral name; it even belonged to one of the lead male characters in a Gable classic. Harvey berated himself for missing that detail.

Movie buff? Fail.

All this time, Harvey had unknowingly been strategizing a plan to throw Donna into the arms of a very dashing actor. He hadn't even thought to check when the organizer called to confirm the surprise arrangement. Suddenly, in a sardonic twist, the gender-swap made Ashley Vale...very remarkable.

Meanwhile, the emcee's chirpy speech continued to ruin Harvey's life with harsh reality.

"This year, we're awarding our highest donor an exclusive backstage pass to party with Ashley Vale. The Aid-a-Friend Foundation would like to thank Pearson Specter Litt for making a generous donation. I've been instructed to specifically grant this privilege to a...Ms. Donna Paulsen."

Said confused Ms. Donna Paulsen abruptly turned towards an equally stunned Mr. Harvey Specter. "Did he just say my name?"

Between Donna and him, Harvey didn't know who should win the 'so-freakin'-shocked' contest. He also never had a chance to explain.

"Ms. Donna Paulsen, can you please come onto the stage?" the emcee prompted.

Donna slowly rose from her seat, the spotlight immediately finding her. The crowd's applause erupted once more when a staff member came forward to assist her.

"Harvey?"

As she passed him, he stood and forced a smile. "Go on. Have fun, Donna."

Harvey watched her interact with the handsome lead on stage. Though shy, she also seemed genuinely in awe and happy. And so, he tried - very hard - to hold on to that positive outcome as he excused himself from the audience. He could certainly use some unremarkable air - better known as breathable oxygen.


Twenty minutes later, Harvey found himself sitting alone by a water fountain - far away from the noisy crowd. There, he let his mind wander and morbidly noted that if it weren't for bad luck, he'd have none at all. In a trance-like state, he heard himself say, "You probably think I'm a fool too, don't you?"

You. The water fountain.

For heaven's sake, the Untouchable Harvey Specter - albeit, self-titled - had been reduced to conversing with inanimate garden decorations. Perhaps it was the shock doing the talking. Or his unspoken frustrations. Whatever the cause, Harvey was relieved that no one had been around to overhear his idiocy. He couldn't be more wrong.

A familiar voice intruded his musings. "Were you just talking to the fountain?"

Harvey jumped to his feet, his face flushing with heat. "Jessica! I was uh-"

She shrugged to dismiss his about-to-be-made-up excuse. "Actually, I prefer not to know. Mind if I join you?"

Wearing an elegant black dress and a pair of killer heels, his mentor proved once again that she could be equally formidable in an evening gown. She waved for Harvey to sit before taking the seat beside him. "So you chose this fundraiser over the Harvard reunion?"

"Hmph."

Jessica's brows rose at his non-answer. "Harvey Reginald Specter. I've always suspected that you have hidden depths behind that mask you wear. You do have a heart. And now, we know that you have the capacity to care for children."

"I don't just practice law for money." Harvey crossed his legs and paused for a dramatic build up. "I practice law for...an obscene amount of money. As you can see, Jessica, you're wrong. I'm still as shallow as a baking pan. I'm only here to flaunt my expensive tux."

"You and your smart mouth." She shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her. "I'll be sure to update our credential deck with 'Expert in Denial' under your qualifications."

He beamed back, grateful for the unexpected company. If it weren't for Jessica, he'd still be brooding over his moronic mistake. "What are you doing here? I thought you said you weren't-"

"Free? Imagine my surprise when the organizer called to thank the firm for making such a big donation. And by 'big', I mean they had one of their board members personally deliver a VIP invitation to me." She bumped her shoulder to his. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He hadn't thought to run the decision by the managing partners since the donation had been funded out of his own pocket.

"Harvey, have you told her?" There were traces of humor dancing in Jessica's eyes. Her gaze locked awhile on his jawline, where the bruise had faded into a yellow-grayish one. Then, she raised them to meet his eyes in a direct stare.

She knew. About the donation. About Donna. Maybe about everything else, too. And she also knew that he knew that she knew. His thoughts were so jumbled up that he didn't even bother to fabricate a story.

"No, I haven't told her," Harvey answered in earnest. "I don't know ho-"

Hearing footfalls clicking against hard concrete, they both turned to see 'subject: her' walking towards them.

Pleasantly surprised to see who Harvey was with, Donna greeted, "Jessica! You came!"

"Donna! You look wonderful! Thank you for coming on my behalf. My schedule freed up at the last minute, so here I am." Jessica glanced at Harvey. "After all, we did make such a generous donation."

He quickly cleared his throat and chimed in, "Yes. We did. To Aid-a-Friend."

By 'we', Harvey meant 'me'. Trivial semantics. He was also cryptically asking his mentor to aid a friend named Specter.

Jessica's lips thinned, as if considering whether to expose him or not. Mind made up, she initiated a new topic to discuss with Donna. Harvey sighed in relief, knowing his secret was safe for the time being.

After exchanging a few more words, Jessica bid them goodbye. Before leaving, she gave Harvey one of her knowing smiles and mouthed, "Tell her."


"Donna, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be partying with Blondie Vale." Harvey kept his tone light as he glanced at his watch. "It's been less than half an hour. He can't possibly be that remarkably boring."

"Harvey, I know."

"You know 'what' exactly?"

"The exclusive meet with Ashley. The donation. You did it personally for me, didn't you? All because I got excited when you mentioned his name," Donna elaborated.

So much for his secrecy. If anything, this was more proof that he'd make a poor CIA operative.

Harvey tugged at his collar and said the only thing that came to mind, "In my defense...I didn't know Ashley was a he."

Donna cracked up at his flimsy 'defense', her positivity instantly transforming Harvey's frown into a fool's grin. She'd always wielded that power over him. Her ability to make him lighter. Better.

"Thank you, Harvey. It meant a lot to me."

He wore an encouraging grin. "You should go back to the party." There was no need for the both of them to have a bad night. He could man the Ship of Shit Happens alone. After all, he was getting pretty good at it. Most importantly, he sincerely wanted her to enjoy herself. "Go, Donna. I mean it."

Faint jazz music drifted through the air, floating in continuous rifts from where the band was playing on the stage.

"Harvey, would you like to dance?"

He blinked at the three-sixty conversational detour. When he regained his senses, he shook his head.

"Why? I thought you liked dancing," Donna asked curiously.

"I do." He really did. To certain genres and beats. "I just don't think I should dance to...this."

"This?"

Harvey lifted his shoulders in an uncomfortable shrug. He didn't want to reveal his 'flaw' - a nuisance that he'd deliberately kept from acquaintances for decades. Tonight, however, he knew that there was no evading.

"Donna, trust me on this. I'm only considering your well-being by saying no." When she didn't budge, he sighed, "It's like...I have two left feet when it comes to dancing with a partner."

The silence that brewed between them was so mocking that Harvey wished he could turn into a mole and dig his way out of there. Since he wasn't a mole, Harvey settled for loosening his tie to breathe more easily.

"How is that even possible? I've seen you dance! You have a mean groove!"

It was exactly what he wanted everyone to see. Donna, too.

"Think, Donna. When have you ever seen me slow dance to anything? Or with anyone?"

The only thing he'd ever slow danced to was this perplexing relationship with Donna.

The moment she recognized the truth in his words, she nodded with new enlightenment. Thankfully, he discerned no pity in her eyes. Only understanding. Yet, the stubborn woman still wouldn't let him off the hook.

"But I love this song! I promise I won't let you fall, Harvey. I'll be your two right feet," she said, stepping forward.

Yes, she had always complemented him in ways that made him whole. Even after learning that he couldn't slow dance, she was generously offering to be his two right feet. Harvey caught himself smiling at the idea. When she placed one hand on his shoulder, he involuntarily tensed, eliciting another giggle from her. "I've got you. Now, be a gentleman and give me your hand."

It was humanly impossible to refuse Donna anything. He could only thank the stars that there was no one around to witness his clumsiness. Except maybe for the water fountain, which Harvey hoped was secretly rooting for him.

"Just so we're clear, I'm leading," Harvey said, trying hard to keep his jitters contained. He took a deep breath and covered her hand with his. Sliding an arm around her waist, he tugged her closer. When they began to sway to the music, her fingers rhythmically tapped against his shoulder.

Donna was a talented dancer, her movements smooth and fluid. In contrast, he was as skilled and as flexible as a wood plank, and it took all his concentration not to fumble the steps.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You're doing great, Harvey. Relax!"

***[A/N: end of safe zone]***


With each passing measure, Harvey became more acquainted. More confident. Who knew Donna's two right feet could have such a magical effect on him?

He twirled her on a gliding turn, and the motion drew an unexpected laugh from her. It sounded so heartily infectious that it melted Harvey's world away. In his arms, she looked so carefree, so alive, and it was so easy to lose himself in her. Too easy.

He did. Then, a case of two left feet happened.

He staggered in the wrong direction and crudely stepped on her toes. She folded forward, clutching Harvey's hand in a death grip. He quickly pulled Donna flush against him, carrying her weight on his arms.

If humiliation could end a life, Harvey thought he would flop onto the ground that instant.

"Donna, are you alright?"

No answer. When she found a steadier balance, Donna loosened her hold but didn't move away. So close, Harvey could feel her heart beating against his chest. But apart from the frantic vibrations, the rest of her was too passive. Too static. His own mortification forgotten, a new wave of concern washed over.

Harvey asked again, "Are you alright?"

Donna lifted her chin, her sight fixed on his mouth and very slowly, they rose to meet his eyes. He was still trying to make sense of everything when instead of words, Donna answered by taking his face in her hands. Harvey was transfixed by the contact, afraid his mind was conjuring it up. He couldn't move. Mostly, because he didn't dare.

Harvey drew in a steadying breath and waited. Mutely hoping. Quietly gauging.

When her fingers stroked down his jaw, he inched forward. Ignoring the chaotic pulse roaring in his ears, Harvey mustered all the courage he could find and touched his lips to hers.

A shy touch. An involuntary quiver. Then, she went utterly still. Had he misread her?

"Donna, if you want me to stop...," he whispered against her lips.

He didn't want to stop. Please. Not yet.

As if woken by his voice, Donna gradually came alive and began to kiss him back. Her lips moved against his, caressing tenderly. Cautiously, even. The kiss was undemanding, honest, and pure, and Harvey matched it with the same level of gentleness. One of her hands moved to cradle his nape, her fingers raking through his hair. When her nails grazed against his scalp, Harvey suppressed a groan and pulled her body more snugly against his. She responded right away, tilting her head up as she delicately framed his cheeks with her palms. A pleasurable sting fired through his nerves when she softly bit his bottom lip. He took it as permission to deepen the kiss and teased more boldly, coaxing her mouth to open with his tongue. Donna gasped at his playful touch and her fingers glided down to rest against his jaws. When she parted her lips, he delved in and savored her heavenly warmth. She tasted like cherry and champagne, sweet and intoxicating all at once. He'd imagined what kissing her again would be like, but nothing had prepared him for the intensity that was rapidly spinning him out of control.

Without warning, Donna veered her mouth sideways and broke their kiss. She slammed her eyes shut, her shoulders quaking in short shudders. Catching his own ragged breath, Harvey took in her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, now tinged with an adorable shade of pink. He wanted nothing more than to pull her back into his embrace, but when Donna's eyes fluttered open, his hope flailed even before she spoke.

"We can't." With two syllables, she was taking everything back.

He'd never realized how it was possible for a person to hate words or phrases until now. In a flash, 'We can't' became Harvey's most abhorred utterance in the English language.

"No." His voice was unusually hoarse and foreign to his own ears.

"Harvey, we can't."

Donna was emotionally withdrawing away, her eyes anchored to a spot on the lawn. He found himself sadly competing against 'grass' for her attention. It was quite a sobering insight.

"Donna, please look at me."

When she didn't react, he reached out to engulf her hands in his. They were trembling. Unyielding. The bracelet he'd gifted her earlier was cold, the charm cutting against his palm. It ironically alluded to how they were - Harvey wanting to hold on, but everything about her was shutting him out.

"We can't," Donna repeated for the third time, still averting her eyes.

Rules. Goddamn rules. He wanted to break every one of them, but his gallant side reined his emotions in. He couldn't lash out when she was looking so distant. And wretched. Keeping her hands in his, he edged a few inches back and tamed his own impulses to rebel.

Before he could put words together, Donna forcefully disentangled from him and began to walk away. Harvey would have let her go too, if he believed that she was indifferent.

"You're right, Donna," he all but bit out, his gruff delivery causing her to freeze mid-step. In three long strides, Harvey moved to stand across her once more. He consciously fought to keep his voice composed. "We can't."

"So, we're in agreement," Donna said with a frown, finally making eye contact.

"That's not what I meant." Harvey gently ran a thumb along the crease of her mouth. Her very kissable lips.

"What, then?" She was blinking back tears, determined not to let him see them fall.

Holding her gaze, he tucked a loose curl behind her ear and traced a mindful path down to her neck with his finger. Perhaps he'd hate himself for it later, but for the life of him, Harvey couldn't bring himself to stop.

"We can't keeping going on like this. Because I can't. Not any longer."

"Harvey?"

A heart wrenching whisper.

He could barely manage a smile for her, knowing everything between them was about to change.

"I'm sorry, Donna. But I'm done pretending there's nothing more between us."


A/N: Hello, brave reader. You've made it to the hang-zone. Please hate me only a little for that ending. No excuses, really. I'm still working on the next part! (*awkward smile) Appreciate your every read and review.

*Two left feet? Yes! This Harvey secretly can't slow dance, Donna walks away, and the water fountain totally ships them.