AN: This chapter is rated M ;)

Don't think that I can take another empty moment, don't think that I can fake another hollow smile.
It's not enough just to be sorry. Don't think that I could take another talk about it.

- Matchbox 20, Bed of Lies

Harvey closes the door to Donna's apartment wincing as the lock jiggles behind him. "First thing tomorrow I'm getting that fixed."

She glances back as he deposits her bag on the floor reading the concern in his gaze. He was distant the whole ride home, has been ever since she woke up in the hospital, and her expression softens as she tries to reassure him, "you heard the police, they think Barnaby is in Santa Fe somewhere." Or at least according to his credit card statement he is but Harvey still doesn't look convinced and she reaches out to lightly brush his arm, "besides you were the target not me."

He flinches away from the contact and she winces at the choice of words. She knows he still feels guilty about giving her the drink and exhales slowly trying to shift some of the awkwardness, "sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine." He shrugs off the apology changing the subject, "do you want me to get you a drink, fix you something to eat?"

"You... cook?" She teases trying to inject some humour back into the conversation but his expression remains void of anything other than exhaustion. Even the white polo teamed with crisp cargo shorts can't distract from the bags under his eyes and she folds her arms with a sigh. "I'm fine Harvey. You should go home, get some rest."

He nods at the dismissal checking his watch to keep some sort of rhythm in place. Part of him wants to stay, remind himself she's safe, but with the decision already made he forces a tight smile. "Just call if you need anything."

He turns to leave and a growing sense of unease balls in her stomach as he pads towards the door. Eventually he'd given her more details about what happened, told her about being up on the roof and Barney Joice's involvement but every word was clinical like he was reading it out of a playbook. She know's he's hiding something and takes a deep breath calling him back, "Harvey, wait."

He hesitates and she swallows awkwardly, scared that it was something she did that he won't admit to. "If I said something-"

"You didn't." He cuts off abruptly, ready to leave it at that but anticipation keeps him from reaching for the door handle. He knows there's more coming and flinches when her voice cuts through the silence.

"Then how did I fall?" She asks running a hand over the tender lump that's still present beneath her hairline. The tone is in no way accusing but she's been over what he told her at least a hundred times and knows he would have gone to any lengths to keep her from getting hurt but somehow she did and it doesn't make any sense. "You said were right there-"

"You wouldn't let me help you." He throws back, irritation edging to the surface as he turns to face her. He shouldn't engage but the need to defend himself stirs a new wave of frustration, "you were high Donna, you were scared and you didn't want me there." Air barrels out of his chest with the admission and he wants to tear his gaze away, stop looking before she sees right through him, but he's like a deer trapped in headlights and whether he says it out loud or not he knows she'll hear it regardless. "That's why you slipped and if you think I don't hate myself for letting it happen you're wrong."

She sees it clearly for the first time, the flash of hurt in his eyes, and realises there's more that just guilt simmering between them. He's angry because she pushed him away but she's still lost trying to understand why. "I was drugged, Harvey."

"I know." He snaps the response, holding somewhere between embittered and defeated. She's right, it isn't fair but just because she was under the influence doesn't mean there wasnt truth to what she said. Drugs don't make people liars, they just make them lose their sense of awareness. "Can we please just forget it."

A flicker of anger rises from both his dismissal and her inability to remember what happened and she steps forward confrontingly, "if you're going to hold this over me don't you think I have a right to know what I said?"

A puffed out laugh exits his mouth but the sound is far from humorous. Instead it's tired creating more tension between them. What's he supposed to say? The second he tells her the truth, that she's clearly moved on from what he wants, there won't be anything left to hold on to and there won't be any coming back from it. "I should go."

"No." She locks her jaw adamantly, hardening her tone. "I hurt you, that's what this is really about isn't it?" She watches him square his shoulders confirming the suspicion and she wants to feel guilty -should- but can't, not without him giving a reason. "I bruised your ego and now you want to go lick your wounds and what... sulk? Grow up Harvey."

"What did you just say to me?" His voice is raised and he starts back to her a mixture of shock and annoyance fuelling his anger, "you want to know what really happened?"

She nods defiantly standing up to his hasty approach because even though she's petrified this is all her fault she needs hears him say it and when he stops dead in front of her, still in the throws of frustration, she prepares herself for the outburst.

"I found you on the edge of a building, a roof, Donna. Do you have any idea how terrifying that was? And instead of listening to me, instead of trusting me you acted like we meant nothing. You told me I shouldn't care and when I wouldn't leave you looked me in the eye and said that I..." he swallows sharply, embarrassment preventing the words from barreling out. He's already gone too far, said to much and he can feel heat spread across his neck as he turns away scrubbing a hand through his hair.

She uses the second's reprieve to wipe the moisture burning her gaze but he's wrong. Whatever he heard was twisted and misconstrued by the drugs and rather than apologise for something she had no control over she focuses on the words he won't admit to, whatever it is that hurt him the most. "I said what, Harvey?"

He turns to face her the tightness in his chest threatening to implode in on itself.

Love me how?

That's what she'd asked him once and then afterwards had accused him of being too scared to fight. Now he's standing at the very same threshold only this time she isn't expecting him to try, she gave up on him.

Well to hell with that.

"How do you think I love you?" He asks pacing back and watching her eyes grow wide with confusion. "You said I needed to ask myself if caring about you was worth it but it's always been worth it Donna. I can't be me without you and I don't want to be."

Her gaze is clouded with uncertainty and not sure she fully understand she moves in with intent cupping her cheek and dragging her mouth to his lips in a hard kiss. It isn't testing or hesitant. He knows exactly what he's trying to show her and when she responds with the same ferocity it takes him by surprise urging his hands down to caress every inch and curve pressed against him. It isn't nearly enough. He needs more and stumbles forward ignoring a clatter as he backs her into the wall.

She hits it with a gasp, breathing in sharply as his tongue traces the hollow of her neck and her pulse drums faster feeling his arousal grow hard against the curve of her stomach. If she were in higher shoes he would be pressing exactly where she needs the contact and a groan spills from her lips as she stands on her sneakers trying to get higher. She has no idea how they went from fighting to fucking so fast but doesn't get a chance to ask.

His hand slips beneath her shirt moving in slow torturous circles under her bra and all she can think about is her humility, doing whatever she can to keep from begging him to go faster. She clamps her her mouth shut to avoid the plea slipping out and her fingers deftly reach for his shorts but he catches her wrist and she hitches as he pins it up behind her head. Memories from the other time flash in front of her eyes, specifically his need for control, and she hooks a leg behind his thigh eliciting a guttural moan from his chest as she forces her centre closer to his hardness. His momentum falters and she almost smirks; he gets just as turned on when he loses control.

He recovers with heavy growl tugging her lips with his mouth and when she whimpers into the kiss the sound nearly undoes him. The tight swell in his trousers becomes unbearable as she writhes against him and he loosens his hold letting his ego takes the hit. He won't last if he doesn't compromise and lets go dragging her t-shirt up over her head and tossing it to floor. He leaves her bra in place teasing and nipping at the delicate fabric and she hisses when he slides his thumb over the sensitive skin. Her hand flies down to his button on his trousers and this time he lets her relieve the pressure choking back a warning when her fingers increase the almost painful throbbing.

He never loses it like this and he's slept with plenty of women but she's different. She's always has been and he yanks down the zip of her jeans trying to discourage her with an equally tormenting distraction but it backfires when he feels the heat pooling between her legs. He needs more of her and tugs roughly ridding her of clothes, shoes and anything else in their way including his shirt. A second later he's back against her, skin on skin, and an unintelligible noise catches in her throat as his fingers tease her mercilessly.

Just when she thinks she might actually break he stops, mouth hot on her ear as he instructs her to wait. She can barely breathe, her eyes closed tightly as she tries to process the loss of his body heat and then she hears a snap of plastic. Christ. She'd almost forgotten about a condom and her heart hammers loudly as returns hoisting her up with strong arms. Her legs automatically wrap around his waist as he shoulders her against the wall for more support and he buries his head into the crook of her neck as he slowly slides into her. She lets out a gasp and he fights the urge to start pumping letting her adjust to the rhythm first.

It's nearly impossible to sustain the slow grind, the need to go faster driving his pulse into a mad frenzy, but he feels her start to rock urging him let go and he does. His control snaps, his hips jerking up frantically and her nails dig into his back begging him not to stop. Even if he wanted to he can't. Lights are already zigzagging his vision, pushing him to the edge, and when she tenses around him he drives up with a final thrust throwing his palm flat against the wall as the intensity crashes over them.

She's pants heavily barely able to think straight and when he finally has the composure to let her down she lands on unsteady legs, pushing away from him and dragging his polo-shirt over her head.

"What am I supposed to wear?" He asks casually, wincing when his cargo pants slap across the front of his chest. "I'll just..." he motions, taking the hint to go get himself cleaned up.

She turns on her heel without saying anything and he swallows the awkwardness finding his way to her bathroom. Once inside he closes the door and steps in front of the mirror landing his hands on either side of the sink. Shit. What the hell had he been thinking? What could he have possibly thought screwing her up against the wall was going to achieve?

The problem is he hadn't been goddamn thinking and he turns on the water in the basin with a sigh, disposing of the condom and half-attempting to make himself look decent. It's a futile attempt but he actually wants to talk about what just happened and heads back out finding his shirt folded neatly on the sofa.

No sign of Donna.

Fuck.

He strains listening for any movement and hears the faint sound of the shower coming from her bedroom promoting him to awkwardly fling his shirt back on and take a seat. He isn't running and waits patiently, at least another twenty minutes, before she finally emerges in robe towel drying her hair.

She almost startles at seeing him but manages to keep her voice even. "You're still here."

"Of course I'm still here." He tries not to bristle at the insinuation he wouldn't be. She disappeared first and he's starting to wonder why he's the one always getting the bad rap for leaving.

She lowers the towel flinging it over the back of the sofa with a sigh. She doesn't known why he stayed or what he's expecting but she doesn't have the energy left to fight him and is about to move into the kitchen when he strides across to block her path. His features soften showing his vulnerability and she immediately wants to cry but finds the strength to be angry instead. "Don't-" she warns shaking her head, "don't you dare stand there and tell me you want more. Not after everything I-"

"You what?" He asks feeling his fear edge into frustration. He screwed up, he get's it but she made mistakes too. She was the one who said she didn't get involved with people she worked with, she was the one who insisted she felt nothing after she kissed him. Maybe he wasn't ready to face it back then but isn't going to stand here now and take all the blame. "I was there Donna. I went through it too and unless I'm forgetting something you never actually told me what you wanted."

The accusation fires through her and it takes all her willpower not to physically lash out and slap him. How in gods name was she supposed to tell him? Anytime she even came close to trying he would completely shut down and if she'd said the words out loud it would have ruined them. "Go to hell." She snaps, pushing to move passed but he catches her wrist spinning her back.

"So that's it?" His eyes blaze at the dismissal, "we just leave this how it is and never talk about it again?"

She jerks out of his grasp throwing the truth at him, "you hurt me Harvey." She hates that it sounds weak but not once had he ever given her a reason to believe that something might happen between them. She'd fought like hell to get over that, to be his friend when she'd wanted more, because that's what he'd wanted. "You've spent the last fourteen years telling me that you didn't want this, that you had everything and I accepted that... I moved on."

"Bullshit." He calls her out, trying to separate the conversation from the mistakes he made in the past. He can't change what he said but they could try and repair the damage if she would just give them a chance. "If you've really moved on then why did we just had sex in your living room?"

Her mouth parts and she struggles with one single answer. Loneliness, closure.. because she'll always be in love with him no matter how hard she tries to fight it? Any reason is as good as the next because it doesn't matter anymore. It's over and she steels herself against the sudden lump in her throat."For the same reason we had sex when you quit the DA's office, because we could."

He stares blankly at the emotionless response feeling the edges of a panic attack creep into his vision. He did everything he could, laid it all out flat and bare, and his pride swells refusing to give into the sickly feeling weighing down his stomach. "I think I should go."

She nods folding her arms protectively across her chest. "I think that's a good idea."

The flash of hurt in his gaze burns through her and she closes her eyes keeping them screwed shut until she hears a slam. Without warning everything she's been holding back escapes in a sob and the shallow air driving in and out of her lungs forces her to the door but she can't bring herself to open it. Instead she sinks against the frame hands trembling as she tries to compose herself. She won't go back there again, can't. Loving him hurts too much and she draws in a shaky breath counting the minutes until she trusts herself enough to let go.

The second she does a knock sounds and she stills with fear, heart pounding until she forces herself back against the panelling. "Harvey, please-" she doesn't know what else to say and closes her eyes against the solid frame.

"Donna, it's me."

The female voice isn't what she's expecting and relief hammers through her. "Rach?" With a hurried movement she swings the door back and has never been more relieved to see Rachael Zane-Ross standing across from her. "What are you doing here?"

The brunette feigns a smile but her expression fills with concern as her gaze washes over the redhead. She's obviously been crying and Rachael steps forward without question drawing the women into a hug. "First day out of hospital, I came to make sure you were okay." She squeezes her friend tightly, confusion mixing with her worry, "what the hell did Harvey do this time?"

Donna fights the urge to simultaneously laugh and cry at the accusation. "Sorry-" she pulls back wiping her eyes, "I'm just tired and urgh... I don't know why I let him get to me like this."

Rachael doesn't buy the brushoff for a second and takes Donna's hand wordlessly leading them inside. Any conversation surrounding Harvey isn't one to be undertaken lightly and she makes sure they're both sitting comfortably before she approaches the situation with a delicate smile. "You want to talk about it?"

She actually does and afraid she'll start crying again she blurts it out before her emotions can process it. "He told me he wanted more, that he loved me." The words don't sound real as they hit the still silence and she slams her mouth shut dropping her gaze.

Rachael isn't surprised the slightest, only by the fact Harvey finally admitted it, but she's still wary of the fallout. "What did you do?" She asks softly, feeling her heart tug when Donna looks up with tears in her eyes shaking her head. Rachel doesn't hesitate pulling the redhead into another hug and part of her wonders if she should call Mike, warn him about the situation he's walking into.

She decides against it.

He'll figure it out and besides, right now her best friend needs her more than her husband does.

AN: Cause I'm all about the angst, the angst :P

Also if anyone needs more darvey in their life I managed to get a video posted yesterday :) The link is on my twitter: Cassie_Ether