A/N: Title from Coldplay's "The Scientist". Hope you like it :)
It's been Louis' sour mood all morning because some turn of her head or banal word she said made him think for the umpteenth time that she'd go back to Harvey's desk and leave him high and dry, plus the discovery for his new bank fraud case that came in and needs to be sorted out, plus two people calling her looking for Harvey and forcing her to explain again that she doesn't work for him anymore, and she's just about to murder someone, which is a clear indication she should take a coffee break.
She decides to go to that fancy place she likes, the one that's further away from the office but has a special menu and great baristas, also because the walk over will help clear her mind.
She takes in the place and its polished marble surfaces and sleek black walls, admires all the fancy people walking around purposefully, like they have their whole life in order. She gets her favorite drink, wafts of jasmine and cinnamon reaching her and calming her instantly. She warms her hands around the cup for a moment before heading towards the island housing the sugar and extra spices. There's a blonde woman standing there, a nice desert rose blazer falling fittingly on her frame. Donna likes her style and is almost eager to reach her so she can sneak a peek at her purse when the woman shifts and she finally sees her face.
Shit.
Dread crawls up her spine and she spins on her heels immediately, hoping to leave the café unnoticed, but her plan is quickly thwarted when Evan Smith calls after her, "You can come get your sugar, I don't bite."
Donna considers leaving anyway but she figures it'll show too much weakness. Evan was already at the island when she got her order, she must be almost done seasoning her drink, and Donna's a grown woman, it'd be ridiculous to just leave with her tail between her legs. So she takes a breath, turns back around and heads to the island, stopping right across from where Evan is standing.
She stares the woman right in the face to show her she's not afraid of her, but they don't acknowledge each other further and Donna goes about her business, mixing in a packet of sweetener. She thinks Evan is almost done and will finally leave, but she doesn't. Instead, she says, in a very passive-aggressive tone, "Must be nice to have a man like Harvey Specter wrapped around your little finger."
She says it with practiced casualness and it makes Donna's blood boil with all the things she's very clearly implying, both about Harvey and her and them. A surge of protectiveness rises within her, because Harvey and her may be at odds right now but she'd still never let anyone talk shit about him. "Harvey's his own man," she replies firmly, "He's not wrapped around anyone's little finger."
Hers least of all, her brain supplies unhelpfully, and there's a twinge of sadness there at what they became. If anything, she's probably the last person Harvey would do any favors for at the moment.
She hums noncommittally. "Say what you will, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't do everything he did for just about anyone."
Donna can't read the woman, doesn't understand if she has any agenda beyond simply getting a rise out of her. It's only been two weeks since the Liberty Rail case got dismissed and she imagines a woman like Evan Smith wouldn't take such a big hit to her ego lightly, even though her client got off in the end, but she doesn't really know the specifics of the case because on the night Harvey came over she didn't feel like talking about it and after that everything went to shit.
She decides on a neutral answer, aimed at protecting Harvey and her integrity without falling into Evan's trap. "He's the best closer in New York City, Evan. And that's because he's willing to fight like hell for all his clients." She sprinkles cinnamon over her drink but by now both women are well aware they're no longer paying any attention to their coffees.
The lawyer quirks a brow and huffs a puff of laughter. "Well, if that means that he's also willing to break the law for all his clients, he's even shadier than I thought." She eyes Donna fiercely and her heart skips a beat.
Break the law?
"What are you talking about?"
Evan scoffs openly now, rolling her eyes. "Come on, I think we're well past the stage of playing coy."
Her tone gets on Donna's nerves, wavering her composure a little. "I'm not playing coy."
The woman eyes her again, curiously this time, an amused little smirk on her lips. "You really don't know?"
Donna knows, she knows she should just do whatever it takes to end this conversation and walk away, but this freaking case and whatever happened in it led Harvey to open a door he'd never opened before, and she needs so many explanations and clarifications and closures that she knows she'll never get because they're not even speaking to each other. She knows the smart thing to do is to put all this to rest and move on but her heart is too frayed, too mangled and too thirsty for any clue, any sign of what he might have meant that night in her apartment. And this isn't about that, but maybe it's another piece in the puzzle of her and Harvey's relationship. And she can't bring herself to walk away from that.
So she just shakes her head and tries to brace herself for whatever is coming.
"Now, that's interesting," the woman says dangerously, like a lion playing with its prey, and Donna is very well aware she's a defenseless prey here, but she just stands her ground. "You really didn't know he paid the alleged whistleblower enough money to convince him to breach his NDA with us?"
Donna knows Evan knows she didn't know that, but she swallows and shakes her head minutely again anyway.
"And you didn't know he also agreed to pay for the train conductor's lifelong expenses in order to get him to breach his settlement and agree to sue us?" Evan goes on, taking a couple of steps towards her, almost as if taunting her to react.
The words "lifelong expenses" swim nauseatingly in Donna's head, making her dizzy, and suddenly the smell of jasmine and cinnamon is no longer comforting but mildly intoxicating.
"Oh, and let's not forget about the fact that he was willing to suborn perjury in order to wrongfully incriminate me, and he used that as leverage to get you off the hook," she finishes, disdain now audible in her voice, her face close to Donna's and she wonders if Evan can smell the nervousness coming off Donna in waves.
All she can do is swallow again and hope she doesn't make an even bigger fool of herself as Evan looks her up and down.
"Anyways," the woman drawls, "Now you know all the charming little stunts he pulled. I guess you're lucky he has it bad for you, or that he's a shady lawyer or whatever it is that made him do it, otherwise you'd be in jail right now." She practically spits the last words before walking away from Donna, narrowly missing her shoulder and leaving her to grapple with everything she just heard.
Evan's words sink into her like a lead anchor, heavy and poisoning everything in their wake. It's a million things at once: the fact that Harvey did all of that and she never even knew nor thought to ask; the sheer amount of money that must have cost him - money which she knows came out of his own pocket, because Jessica would never agree to foot that bill; the risks he took, gambling with her life, and his own, and other people's; his relentlessness and his drive; the fact that he almost committed crimes; the fact that he was comfortable doing those things but couldn't face a simple conversation about them.
It's hard to even properly process what it all means, how much money he must have spent, how desperate he must have been to do all that, how much he cares, what that means in their current status. It's another frustrating display of how Harvey is willing to do grand gestures as long as he can remain emotionally unavailable, and it grates on her, drains her patience to have to read between the lines and interpret everything he does and says because he's incapable or unwilling to fucking be clear about his feelings, but there's also a very real, burning gratitude licking her insides and firing her up. He risked all of that for her and she may be annoyed but there's also an overwhelming sense of indebtedness warring with all the negative feelings.
It's too much and she feels dizzy again, almost afraid she's going to faint in the middle of the café. She considers calling Louis and taking the afternoon off, and it's telling that that almost seems like a less daunting scenario than going back to the office and sitting with those revelations for the rest of the day.
But something rumbles inside of her, keeping her up and building her resolve to go back. She needs to hear the words from someone she trusts, someone who isn't just trying to rattle her, even though she can tell Evan wasn't lying. She's angry and scared and exhausted and relieved and grateful and annoyed, and she lets those feelings mix inside of her and carry her feet back to the firm.
She doesn't go all the way to the fiftieth floor; instead, she gets off the elevator sooner, zig-zagging her way through corridors and hurrying associates, her breathing heavy and resolute. She storms into Mike's office and the boy doesn't immediately notice her whirlwind, greeting her happily and a little warily, the way he's been handling her since she moved to Louis' desk.
"I just ran into Evan Smith and she told me what you two did to close the Liberty Rail case," she says self-righteously, no preamble or euphemism. "Is it true?"
Mike's face falls a little. "What exactly do you mean?" he tries, but she thinks even he can hear the weakness in his voice.
"Don't play dumb with me right now," she warns menacingly, aware that she's probably being a little harsh on him but she needs an outlet and he's as good as any.
He swallows, sighing and letting his shoulders drop and straighten. "Well, I don't know what she told you, but judging by your reaction I'd say it's all true." He says it gravely, as if relaying bad news, and it's like the whirlwind all of a sudden stops, all her feelings suspended in mid-air inside of her.
And then they come crashing down.
"For fuck's sake, Mike," she exhales heavily, throat constricting and eyes closing, shaking her head. "Bribery? Perjury? Seriously?"
Mike rushes to the door, taking a quick look left and right before closing it furtively. Donna knows she should be more careful but she can't bring herself to care about who hears her right now.
"It was the only way, Donna," he replies, sitting on the edge of his desk, "They had us dead to rights."
"You're supposed to protect him," she counters accusingly, because she knows Harvey is prone to doing wild, grand, irresponsible things sometimes and he needs someone to talk him off the ledge. That someone is - used to be - usually her, but she wasn't involved in the case and so Mike should have taken up the mantle.
"I tried," he insists, "We tried everything, looked for any other option we could think of. This was the only thing that would have worked and I wouldn't have been able to talk him out of it even if I wanted to."
"Why not?" she presses, annoyed at the truth in his words.
Mike pauses and tips his head to the side a little. "Do you really need me to say it?"
She probably doesn't, but she's so damn tired of being told she's supposed to know something and actually having no clue of the real meaning behind it. And she knows Mike won't run away, so she grits her teeth anyway. "Yes."
He swallows nervously, clearly uncomfortable to be the unofficial translator of Harvey's feelings, but she doesn't care. "Because there was no way he'd let anything happen to you. He would have done even more if he had to and you know it."
She does. Harvey's drive to protect her has never been the issue, and apart from when he let Jessica fire her as if she were just some random secretary, he's never not fought for her, never not protected her. Even when she wanted to give up that protection in favor of comfort he wouldn't let her, resolute to do whatever it took, even antagonize her, in order to keep her out of jail.
He told her the thought of her going to prison made him want to drop to his knees; that should have been indication enough of how far he was willing to go. She was so panicked, so desperate to avoid the very real possibility of it all going sideways, that she never actually stopped to think about what his strategy might entail. And now she knows. And her brain is struggling for stability between being pissed at him for being willing to do all this but not to fight for her in the way she really wants him to, and feeling sick to her stomach at the thought of what might have happened if he hadn't managed to make that deal with Evan.
It's too much, way too much, and she collapses onto the chair next to her, resting her forehead on her hand. "Jesus, Mike, did you two even think about how badly that could have gone?"
"Honestly, Donna, we didn't," he replies a little impatiently, probably getting tired of her outburst, "We didn't have time to think about that. The walls were closing in and it was either that or risking going to trial and Harvey wasn't willing to do that, and he was right not to."
His words are close to what Harvey told her that night. I didn't say I didn't do it, I said I didn't have time because I was so busy saving your ass. It makes her feel like a whiny child, fussing over all the wrong things while the grownups have to clean up her mess. She drops her arm in defeat, looking out Mike's window to try to process this chaos, and he seems to take pity on her because he sits on the edge of his desk next to her.
"Hey, it's over, we won," he says encouragingly, "You don't have to worry about that anymore."
She knows that, but she also knows she'll never stop worrying about Harvey, and even though it's all behind them now she still feels a surge of panic at the thought that he could have been harmed in some way because of her. Her skin pricks with shame and annoyance beats behind her eyes like a pulse. She has more clarity now but it doesn't fully alleviate the intensity of her feelings. She thinks only one thing will.
So she swallows, nods, puts on a façade for Mike's benefit because this is not his fight. "You're right," she looks at him, calmer, "Thanks, Mike." She must sound genuine enough, because the boy smiles back at her and she has no trouble walking out of his office.
She takes the elevator again and heads to her desk. She has half a mind to go straight to Harvey's office, but her coffee break has run a little too long already and Louis is bound to be throwing a tantrum about her absence. Besides, this is a serious conversation; she needs to think of what to say, and she doesn't want anyone interrupting them.
Getting through her shift is a nightmare, her insides restless and on edge, but at least the heavy workload prevents her from seeking him out throughout the afternoon. She manages to take care of everything urgent and to convince Louis not to stay late and go mudding instead. She arranges everything on her desk, reads the last e-mail that comes in, straightens her dress and makes her way to Harvey's through the now mercifully empty corridors of the firm.
The absence of a secretary in front of his office makes her stomach flip and remorse threaten to flood her. She's been swaying wildly between self-righteousness and regret ever since she told him she was leaving him and, while this revelation reassured her that he is not ready to face his feelings and be honest with her about them, it also makes her feel awful for turning her back on him right after he sacrificed so much for her.
She knocks, not wanting to antagonize him, and he glances at her from beneath his lashes, not even bothering to properly look up, and she rolls her eyes internally at his attitude but he doesn't send her away, so she walks in, stopping a few good feet before his desk.
Her nerves flare up again and she struggles to find a good way to start. After a moment of silence he finally faces her properly. He must read her cautious stance, because he scowls a little. "What did I do this time?"
Funnily enough that provides her the opening she needed, and she just dives in. "Threatened to commit perjury," she starts and he frowns in confusion, but she goes on. "Blackmailed Evan Smith. Bribed not one, but two people into breaking their deals with Liberty Rail."
Recognition dawns on him and she watches his defense mechanisms close around him like a curtain. She doesn't understand what she's feeling, much less what she wants from this conversation, but she does know she doesn't want to fight, so when he works his jaw she takes the lead.
"Thank you, Harvey," she tells him, and she hopes he can hear all the honesty in her voice because she really means this.
He seems surprised by her words, his composure faltering before his face softens a little, though still guarded. "You don't need to thank me."
"I do. You went to a lot of trouble for this case and I appreciate it," she insists, and the words are a little hard to push past all the pain and sorrow they've been causing each other for the past two weeks but she still does, because they're true.
"Well, I was just doing what I said I'd do." It's like he's trying to minimize this, to act like it was nothing, and for some reason that grates on her because it is not nothing.
"You never said anything about committing crimes," she tries to sound playful but it comes off like a backhanded compliment.
"No, I said I wouldn't let anything happen to you," he insists, defensive and stubborn, like a bull getting ready to charge forward, hooves scratching the sand beneath them.
"I would have liked to be informed that that involved getting yourself, Mike, Rachel and God knows who else in trouble," she crosses her arms, feeling all the good will that followed her inside evaporate through her pores.
"No one got in trouble, Donna, it's called gambling," he replies condescendingly and that ticks her off even more.
"I don't care what you call it, it was reckless," she throws at him, her arms falling to her sides.
"You think I didn't know what I was doing?" he frowns, seemingly offended, and she gets flashbacks of him in this very office two weeks ago, yelling at her to let him do his job.
"I think you weren't thinking of the consequences," she fires back.
"I was thinking of the consequences, Donna, they were you either getting off the hook or going to jail, it was an easy choice," he kicks his voice up a notch and his words should make her happy, but they don't.
"And did it ever occur to you that that choice could have landed you in jail instead?" she takes a step forward, her way of gaining territory because he's being too pigheaded to listen to her.
"Yes, it did, and I was fine with it. What did you expect me to do?" he opens his arms.
"I expected you not to jump off a plane without checking your parachute first and just hoping it worked!" she opens her arms as well, and a small part of her brain remembers to be glad she waited until now because they're both almost screaming and it would have attracted a lot of attention if there had still been people around.
"Excuse me, I'm confused, I thought you came in here to thank me and somehow I'm the one getting told off?" he recoils sarcastically.
"Yes, you are!" she explodes, "Because you go off and you do all these grand, crazy gestures I don't even hear about and then you can't have a simple conversation about your feelings!" She didn't mean to let that out - in fact, it's a subject she's pretty sure they should never broach again, because even talking about being friends already broke them last week, talking about being more could do harm she's not sure they could ever repair, especially right now.
The words clearly hit him hard, because his mouth clamps shut and his nostrils flare. "That's not what this is," he says harshly, and she knows he probably believes that, after so many years of building up walls and alienating himself from his feelings, but she honestly cannot understand how he can be so sure of that after everything he said and everything he did.
"Yeah? Because everyone seems to know more about how you feel about me than I do," she motions towards the hallway, the words festering like open wounds inside her, aided by the frustration she's been harboring and unsuccessfully trying to curb ever since his refusal to answer how he loved her.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he narrows his eyes accusingly.
"It means even Evan Smith seemed to know something I don't," she retorts and Harvey scoffs.
"Evan Smith? She doesn't even know us!"
"Exactly! She doesn't even know us and she still had more to say than you," Donna fires off, and she thinks this is probably unfair because what she had to say were the same tired old assumptions and lewd comments everyone has had to say for the past twelve years, and they're not reliable indications of Harvey's feelings but they're more than she's gotten from him so far and this time she can't just brush it off.
"I said all I had to say that night, if it's not what you wanted to hear that's not my problem," he practically snarls, and she doesn't know if he really means it, doesn't know if he's saying that to hurt her or put an end to this conversation or if he really is that oblivious, but this is a step too far and if she follows him she's afraid of where they'll end up.
He's the most frustrating person she's ever met and yet, if there's any chance they'll ever salvage whatever's left of their relationship, she's willing to take it.
So, despite seeing him standing there with the gasoline and the matches, ready to blow it all up, she doesn't take his bait. Instead, she exhales tiredly and shakes her head, working her jaw.
"You know what, this isn't going anywhere. I came here to thank you, so thank you," she says dejectedly, her voice devoid of the energy that had been sparking along her words, almost too quiet beneath the ringing in her ears.
Harvey takes an indignant breath, burrowing himself further into his hole of denial and mulishness, up to his ears in sanctimoniousness. "You're welcome," he retorts sullenly and she wants to roll her eyes at him yet again.
Instead, she sighs again, completely at a loss for how to move forward from this. She looks around the room, swallows, then shakes her head and leaves. They've had too much for one night - too much for a lifetime, already - and she needs space from him because despite her outburst her conflicting feelings are still threatening to suffocate her.
She collects her things and goes home, tired and spent and lost. She tries not to think of his anger and the sharp edge of his words. She tries to focus instead on the fact that, however reckless, he did still risk his money, his career, even his freedom for her. And she hopes that, whatever this means, it's a sign they can get back at least some of what they used to have.