I didn't really know where I was going with this other than I was inspired by the hashtags sarah and gabriel had when they posted on set. #harveysview #donnasview. Hopefully this went somewhere decent. Sorry in advanced for any grammatical / spelling error!
HARVEY'S VIEW
a one shot.
For a long time, Harvey Specter's favorite view was the skyline of New York City— the hustle and bustle of the people, the different cultures that were prominent in every corner— its sense of being alive. It was the city that never slept, afterall. His favorite view was never the buildings that seemed smaller when he looked out of his penthouse view. Granted, he never did get a chance to savor those times he could look out his bedroom window, because he has always been a busy lawyer. The only glimpse he had of the skyline was when he had a lady friend over in the wee hours of dawn, though it was more of a blur because his focus was solely on the woman in front of him. The view out of his window was the least of his worries.
It's when he stood on his first day in his new office, as a named senior partner, in front of the glass that stretched from wall to wall of his office— that his favorite view changed. As the years went by, he never once paid attention to the New York skyline behind his desk that screamed for his attention. Instead, he paid attention to the smaller cubicle in front of his office, and the fiery red that contrasted with the muted tones of the firm.
"You're ruining the view." Harvey once said, looking at the redhead that was admiring the wide space. She was walking back and forth in front of him.
She smiled at him, an all knowing smile Harvey knew that she was already picturing where his belongings would go. He also knew that there would be pieces of her scattered throughout his office.
"Harvey," She walked towards him, her bangs slightly askew and smiled once again. She leaned against his ears and whispered. "I am the view."
She walked away, patting his shoulder with a smirk on her face. Harvey laughed it off, it was cheesy, but he knew it was partly true.
The other time had been different, there were no professional strings that attached them, so they did what they have both been craving, sex. It was messy and wild and passionate. Usually being passionate meant that there were feelings involved, but they both claimed neither had it. But they both lied, and they both knew it. The woman was a force of nature Harvey wasn't willing to alter. She was different, she drove him crazy, but he was willing to put up with it. If it was a different girl that acted that way, Harvey would've dropped them quickly— not that he ever would put himself in that situation anyway.
So when Donna said that they shouldn't talk about the other time, he remembers the image of Donna writhing underneath him with pleasure— beautiful, delicate, intimate... her hair a disarray because of him. It was one of his favorite views, but like the gentleman that he is, he buried that image on the back of his mind. But on those lonely nights, he allowed himself to think back on the sacred image.
It's when she returned from her brief firing that Harvey caught a glimpse of her, she sauntered in his office, in the goddamn emerald green dress that was dangerously low cut. He would later pat himself in the back for focusing in her eyes than her... assets. He was glad she was back, because the temporary assistant he had— whom he just remembers as the little shit that redid Donna's filing system, was not as interesting to look at.
He didn't watch Donna in a creepy, stalker, serial killer type of way, rather, he looked at her as if she was a piece of art. The way he would occasionally see Donna twist her hair when she was focused on paperwork. The way she'd look over sometimes, and give him that wink that caused his heart to skip a beat.
"Just ask her out already." Mike had once said, glancing back at Donna and then at Harvey.
"I heard that." Donna said over the intercom, causing Mike to jump, and Harvey just chuckled.
"You were meant to." Mike said, unaware that the redhead was listening. Mike approached Harvey's desk and pressed the button that allowed Donna to listen in.
"Seriously, Harvey, you're looking at her like an abandoned puppy."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's a matter of time before someone else will fall in love with her. It's Donna, Harvey."
"Hey, Mike?"
"Yes, Harvey?"
"Mind your goddamn business."
He hated when the kid was right, because when he saw Stephen Huntley with Donna, it bothered him more than it should.
When she sat in his home, his couch, he didn't wonder how the hell the woman got there, because he was too busy admiring the way she looked. The white and grey dress that hugged her every curve— the way she effortlessly fit into his home, his life. He So when she got up to leave and he called out to her, he wanted to hit himself when he asked about Louis instead. He should have kissed her, right there and then, but he didn't. He wasn't ready to committ.
The night they stood in front of the window, their hands intertwined, Harvey focused on her reflection on the window, rather than the image of New York at night ahead of him.
When Donna had kissed him, he ran, and for once in a long time, his favorite view went back to the New York skyline.
His favorite view changed once again when he came to his senses and knocked on the door that held the numbers 206. His favorite view was Donna giving him a look that said It's about time. His favorite view that night was a flashback to the first time, except now they were allowed to openly express their feelings. Not once did he look out the night sky, but rather at the woman whose eyes sparkled the same way the stars did outside that night.
It's when they stood in front if the mirror together, with her hair swept in one direction while Harvey zipped up her dress. He kissed her neck and she smiled, her hands reaching his hair and stroking it.
"I know what you're doing, but we're gonna be late."
He held her tigher from behind then, his arms wrapped around her waist, he was only missing his bow tie. He dropped his chin on her shoulder, while he looked at both of them in the mirror. He breathed her in.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Donna asked.
"Nothing, just liking the way we look together."
Donna's attention went back to the image of both of them reflected in the mirror, and she looked at Harvey's stupid, stupid smile.
"You're an idiot."
"I know."
He knew then that it was time to marry her.
Over the course of their married life, the amount of his favorite views have changed tremendously, though they all had one common denominator— Donna Paulsen-Specter.
It ranged from Donna wearing the oversized "I love Seattle" shirt after a night of lovemaking on their new bed, in their new home. They had picked up the shirt the night they moved into their new home in Seattle. They had played tourists, picking up cheesy memorabilia along the way.
It also ranged from coming home after a long night at work, when he crawled into bed while she was wearing glasses and reading a book, red wine on the nightstand. On those nights they felt the need to be close, she would be wearing something else– or lack thereof— other than her oridnary red pajams.
Then it shifted to her face, one filled with so much happiness when she had announced that they were pregnant. It then shifted again when the swell of her stomach became more prominent. Again, it changed when she held their daughter for the very first time. His favorite view, his girls, even though that image was blurred because of his tears.
Now, here they were, their daughter slowly approaching the one year mark, and their wedding anniversary as well. She was standing by the window, clad in his dress shirt that had H.S. on the cuffs, holding a cup of coffee with a hint of vanilla. Just like his dreams all those years ago, pining over her. Her ring glistening because of the early morning sun. Their daughter was in the other room, still in a comfortable slumber. He was in their bed, smiling his Cheshire grin, completely ignoring what Donna had just said when she turned around.
"Harvey?"
"Hm?"
Donna smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, looking at her husband who was too deep into his own thoughts.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just... admiring the view."
She was the view. Harvey never limited his favorite view to the cliche sunsets, or the eiffel tower— rather his favorite view was a person, one that brought him so much contentment. The mother of his child (hopefully children in the future), his wife, Donna.
He liked the view of the New York skyline— or the Seattle skyline they had now— as long as his favorite person accompanied it.
END.