Prompt #7 by DonnaPaulsen19: "After Donna got promoted to COO, Harvey mans up and asks her out. They go out on their first date to celebrate her, him and finally them, trying to keep it slow. But how long will it last before something comes up and ruins it."
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Prompt #42 by darvcys: "(canon, they just got together or any other scenario really)Donna and Harvey get into a fight days before christmas, face the possibility of spending the holiday apart but go back to each other to try and fix things on christmas eve/day. Maybe they get the other a special gift (token of appreciation or something, like they tried really hard to impress and show in a way how much they love each other)"
It was hard at first. He was well aware that this time was different, that it wasn't some form of punishment, that she wasn't leaving him. He knows those feelings have been brewing inside of her for a while now, remembers hearing her say she felt ashamed for sitting outside and answering phones while the rest of them went around saving the day, watched her rebuild this firm from the ground up just a few months ago and get no recognition for it. He knows it makes sense and it's more than fair.
But not having her around every day, looking outside his office and not finding her attentive face staring at her computer screen, or not hearing random comments through the intercom during the afternoon, it was hard. And it got even harder with Louis' tantrums and Mike's attitude and switching offices and the whole non-lawyer-partner thing. It took him a while to adjust to his new role without her constant guidance, and he knows it took her a while to adjust to her new role too.
But now they're doing better. The initial panic of thinking she wanted a more that didn't include him has subsided; there are still moments of confusion, of feeling lost without her constant presence, but when those happen he's been better at getting over himself and taking the few short steps from his office to hers to offer a drink or catch up or even just ask what she's doing. Donna's been better at it too, understanding her place within the firm and within their new dynamic.
It's been a few weeks now, and Harvey can feel something shift definitively inside of him. What was once nervousness and a subtle yet nagging feeling of abandonment, which in turn made him jittery and eager to create opportunities to see Donna as often as possible, has now become curiosity about her new routines and challenges, a desire to share experiences and trade stories, not from a position of weakness, but from a position of strength. And that has always been how he likes it.
Their interactions now feel more natural, more spontaneous, because they are no longer rubbing elbows every day. They don't have as many reasons to talk anymore, which means that most of the times they do, it's deliberate. And he quite likes that.
There's an ease to being around Donna, especially now, with less work-related tension, that he notices he doesn't have with anyone else. Their inside jokes, the decade's worth of stories, the similar tastes and humor, it all makes him feel safe and understood. They just fit together, even on stressful days and messy nights, even when they argue over a case, or when she puts him in his place. They still fit, and he finds himself craving that fit, wanting more and more the familiarity it brings him. He starts looking for more reasons to bump into her, no longer out of need, but out of his own free will, and she usually indulges him, which makes him feel weirdly fuzzy inside.
They start spending an hour or so together almost every night after work, their respective whiskey bottles getting drained much more quickly than usual from the frequency of their shared moments, and he starts storing things away, tidbits or funny moments from his day, just so he can tell Donna all about them later that night. It's a nice routine, different from their previous one, but he thinks it's a welcome, organic progression from what they used to have.
It's when he notices that his mind starts drifting instantly to Donna whenever Alex mentions Rosalie or Mike mentions Rachel that it hits him.
He may be stupid, but he's not that stupid. The time together, the way both of them always seem to want to linger well after their glasses are empty, the way he thinks about her on weekends and at home at night, and cares about her and her opinion and her silly jokes, and now the way his brain seems to be associating her with Rosalie and Rachel, his friends' significant others; he would usually assume and argue to his very last breath that none of that meant anything - it's just their years of proximity, just force of habit, just her being insistently around -, but this time he just... doesn't want to. He doesn't want to pretend none of it is real, that their lines are clear and whatever's happening is of no real consequence to them. This time he wants the very opposite: he wants to lean into this and see what it does mean.
He doesn't really understand why that doesn't terrify him, considering about half of his brain for the past thirteen years has been occupied with trying to follow her rule and to make sure The Other Time was un-thought and unspoken of, and somewhere along the way that turned into him also rejecting the possibility of any other time, because it would go against her rule, because he's bad at relationships, because it would only complicate things, and he'd end up messing up and losing her. But, to a certain extent, he already has lost her. He lost the her he'd always clung to, the her that was around all day every day, holding his hand through his every minor inconvenience, the her whose goals aligned completely with his. That's not who she is anymore, and he can no longer expect any of that from her, and short of her never speaking to him, he's lost her in almost every way he used to have her. And he's still here.
He not only survived, he could even say they're thriving, and that's encouraging because it makes him wonder if, now that he no longer has her on the work front, maybe the stakes are lower, because if the worst happened and he lost the rest of her, at least the transition from all to nothing would be smoother. It's still not a transition he would ever want, also because his connection to Donna hasn't been strictly professional for a very long time now, but it's a transition he now feels he would have a reasonable chance of surviving, which felt completely impossible just a few short months ago.
He thinks the whole thing with his mom also helped. Dr. Agard had already told him that until he took responsibility for his share of the blame for what happened to his family, he wouldn't be able to move on from it. And Donna told him, more recently, that until he worked things out with Lily, he would continue to look to the people at the firm to fill the hole his fractured childhood had left in him. Well, he's done both. And he feels lighter for it, more ready for something meaningful. And everything that's been happening these past few weeks has shown him that the person he wants that with is Donna.
He tries not to think about it too much, afraid that too much introspection will make him chicken out or change his mind. And so, on a random Thursday night, before he heads home, he walks up to her office, stopping by the door.
"Hey, you busy tomorrow night?" he asks casually and she looks up.
"Hm, not really, why?"
"I found this new restaurant downtown, I was wondering if you'd like to go with me for dinner," he tries to infuse normalcy into his tone, though he has to admit his hands are shaking a little.
It's a sign of their new dynamic that Donna doesn't seem to find his invitation out of place. "Sure," she nods a little, eyebrows quirking up good-naturedly. Then her phone pings and her attention is drawn to it, which gives him the perfect timing to speak his next line.
"Good. It's a date."
"A what?" she asks instantly, voice an octave higher and eyes comically wide as they find his again.
Harvey smirks, not elaborating lest he embarrasses himself or makes her want to withdraw the acceptance, but tips his head to show he's being sincere.
"Oh," Donna replies, dumbfounded. "Okay."
"Okay. Good night," he says, then smiles a little and walks away, feeling his stomach do somersaults.
He's not usually nervous for dates, has had enough of them go well to feel naturally confident, but, come Friday night, if there is one thing he is, it's nervous. This is completely uncharted territory, despite the fact that he and Donna have gone out countless times before, and he has no clue what to expect. The fact that she said yes even after he clarified it was a date is certainly encouraging, but they haven't come close to this kind of subject in a long time, and the last time they did nearly broke them. Once again, he feels it deep in his core that he's changed since then, that reconciling with his mom, the whole thing with Mike, almost losing the firm, almost losing her, it's made him more aware of what truly matters, and made him more willing to risk getting hurt when the outcome is worth it.
And maybe he's getting ahead of himself here, but he thinks this particular outcome might be one hell of a lot more than worth it.
By early evening he's so jittery and unfocused that he has to finish work a bit earlier than intended, preferring to finish cleaning up his inbox instead to kill time until he can go fetch Donna. His new secretary is no Donna, but she's efficient and nice enough, and she seems to notice his agitated state because she chooses that moment to come into his office and deliver a couple of messages and then instantly engages him in a discussion about this week's Yankees game, which he's happy to indulge for once. And then twenty minutes have gone by and their working hours are technically over and he thinks it's appropriate to pack up and leave.
He does a quick pit-stop at the bathroom, straightening his tie and freshening up a little, and then he makes his way to Donna's office. "You ready to go?" he asks nervously, burying his hands in his pockets.
"Hey, yeah," she nods, "Just finishing up an e-mail." She types a few more words on her computer and hits send while he waits by the door and tries not to look too out of place.
When she stands up he's taken aback; he's fairly certain he'd crossed paths with her today already, but he's either wrong or he was so anxious he didn't pay enough attention, because his breath hitches quite ridiculously.
She looks incredible in a figure-hugging burgundy dress with some sort of ruffling on the neckline and flowy sleeves that make her look regal, and the skirt looks so smooth it makes him want to run his hands down her sides. When she turns to fetch her coat he can see her hair is pinned to the side at the nape of her neck in an understated, elegant way, and her earlobe sparkles with a golden earring that climbs up her ear.
She always looks beautiful, but he thinks she does even more so tonight and it makes pride bloom in his chest.
He steps up to her as she's fumbling with her coat and helps her get it on, watching in awe as she frees her hair from under it. "Shall we?" she turns around and smiles nervously at him.
"Let's," he replies and motions for her to lead the way. They make awkward small talk on their way to the lobby but it doesn't bother him, considering some awkwardness was to be expected given their context. Ray gives them a funny look through the rear-view mirror, which he promptly ignores, pretending like this is like any of their outings even though even his driver can tell it isn't.
Donna is mostly quiet during the ride over and as they enter the restaurant and make their way to their table, making nothing more than throwaway comments or replying to his. He knows he's in for an explanation, knows that, as stark as the changes inside of him seem to him, they might not be as clear on the outside, but he doesn't rush it either, taking things one step at a time.
They order appetizers and drinks, and when their drinks come they each take a sip, and then Donna fixes him with a look. "So. A date," she quirks a brow, clearly back in her element, and there it is.
He rearranges the napkin on his lap and tries to sound suave. "Technically we don't work together anymore," he replies with his own brow quirk.
"Hmm, no, technically we still do," she squints around a thinking face and, okay, fair enough, she isn't going to make this easy for him.
"Okay, look," he takes a steadying breath. "I've... I've been sensing a... shift lately. Since you stopped working for me," he says, folding his hands on the table to keep himself from fidgeting, "A shift I was thinking maybe we could... explore. If you want. And... I know I've messed this up before, but since I fixed things with my mom I've been... different. And I think I'm ready now."
So this was the worst speech ever.
He'd facepalm at himself if he could, but this is what came out of his mouth and now he has to run with it. To his absolute surprise, after a very long minute of her just staring blankly at him, Donna seems amused or endeared or something, because she looks down at her hands clearly trying to bite back a smile, and the lighting of the place is a bit dim but he thinks her cheeks look flushed. His heart skips a beat.
"I've been... sensing a shift too," she concedes. "Both between us and in you," she throws him a look from beneath her lashes, then looks down again, "And yeah, I... I'd like to explore it too."
He feels like he's just been told he won a huge case.
"You would?" he asks, embarrassingly eager.
Donna snickers as she looks up. "Yeah, I would." Then she bites the inside of her cheek. "I just, uhm," she adds and he freezes, "I just want to make it clear that I'm not... looking for a... friends with benefits situation here."
Just the expression coming out of Donna's mouth in relation to them threatens to make him dizzy, but he wastes no time in reassuring her. "I'm not looking for a friends with benefits situation either."
Donna stares deep into his eyes and he stares deep into hers, showing her he's being honest. And then she looks like she's about to say something, but the waiter brings their appetizers and she looks down again, struggling to contain a smile.
The rest of their dinner goes almost entirely like that: they try to eat and make conversation but get constantly interrupted by stupid grins, blushes that force them to look away to recompose themselves, smiles they need to hide behind glasses or direct at their laps. He feels like a teenager, utterly unable to keep his cool and be smooth, but he doesn't care. He's never felt this light and this happy and for once he doesn't care to hide it.
As they're walking out of the restaurant their fingers brush at their sides, accidentally or on purpose he doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. He hails them a cab and gives the guy her address, literally shaking with anticipation. They avoid looking at each other, nervous as all hell, afraid that acknowledging it will either break the spell or ignite a spark that will end up embarrassing their driver. He pays for the ride and accompanies her up to her door, watching anxiously as she unlocks the door, waiting for her lead.
She opens the door and turns to him, but doesn't go inside, and he gets an inkling she's drawing a line here.
"Dinner was really nice," she says softly, looking up at him as she leans against the doorjamb.
"It was," he agrees just as quietly with a nod.
"Hope we can do it again?"
"Absolutely."
Her eyes slip down to his lips and it's all the incentive he needs to lean in and kiss her, chaste and slow. His heart bangs in his chest like a beating drum, strong and fast, sending vibrations all over his body. He can't believe it took them this long to do this again, and he never wants to stop.
He sucks on her bottom lip a little and his hand finds her cheek, but before he can go any further she pulls back, putting some distance between them.
"Harvey, I think we should take it slow," she whispers almost against her lips, and he needs a second to recompose himself before opening his eyes and looking at her properly. She looks open, but serious, and he straightens up.
"Oh, yeah. Of course," he clears his throat and nods.
"I want this," she hurries to reassure him, "It's just... a big step."
He knows what she means, and he knows that, while he had a couple of weeks to imagine, hope for and process this scenario, he essentially dumped it all on her unannounced just yesterday night, so it makes sense that she needs some time to get on the same page as him. "Yeah, no, I understand," he tells her earnestly with a little smile.
"Thank you for tonight, I had a really good time," she says gently, a shy smile on her lips.
"Yeah, me too," he nods, burying his hands in his pockets.
"See you on Monday?"
Harvey nods. "Good night, Donna."
"Good night."
He turns around, undoubtedly slightly disappointed at the turn the night took just now, but peaceful in the knowledge that they're headed in the right direction. In a completely out-of-character sequence of events, he was able to make a move, make his feelings at least moderately clear, respect her boundaries and secure a next time; he would have liked a nightcap but, honestly, this night has long surpassed even his wildest expectations.
He's almost around the corner when he hears it.
"Harvey."
He turns, and Donna is pressing her lips together, cocking her head, and he gets the message loud and clear.
"Oh, thank God," he mutters before rushing back and crashing his lips into hers. She holds him to her as his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close, and their tongues tangle together madly, devouring each other. He has no clue what is going on right now, how this can be possible and real and it's Donna, Donna who has been by his side for thirteen years, Donna who has permeated his dreams, who has colored his memories, who is a part of him, integral and essential, and who carries a part of him with her. Donna. Finally.
They're both forced to part for air, panting harshly as they watch each other in disbelief.
"See you Monday," he says as soon as he can manage it, his hands sliding to her waist and giving it a small squeeze.
Her jaw falls. "What? Don't... you want to come in?" she asks, clearly shocked.
"I do," he nods, and this move is either very noble or very, very fucking stupid. "But I also want you to know I'm serious about this," he says confidently, because he does. He wants her to know this is not like any of the last times. This is real.
She's completely dumbfounded from the whiplash he just gave her, but her expression takes on a tone of wonder that makes him think this was the right call. "Okay," she says simply, her own hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest and then off of him.
He leans in and gives her one last smooch, as meaningful as it is chaste, and leaves. As he walks down the hallway he can hear her whisper a faint "Fuck" before closing the door, and he smirks to himself, absolutely sure that he is ready for everything she may want to give him.
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Donna feels like she's fifteen again.
As she watched Harvey walk away after that blistering kiss, the fire in her veins and pressure coiled in her belly were nothing next to the free fall her heart was doing. The whole night had felt like a pipe dream - in fact, she'd felt like she'd been dreaming since the day before, when Harvey waltzed into her office and asked her out as if that were something they did all the time, and then mentioned the word date. And then the actual date, and the way he hadn't run away from his feelings even if he wasn't completely direct about them. They were on the same page and, more importantly, they both committed to figuring out what page that was.
And then the kiss. She felt like she'd never been kissed like that, with that much fire even though he was fully respectful of the boundaries she set and didn't let his hands wander. It was as if her whole being was a flower blossoming from inside out, opening up to him, wanting him to have access to every corner of her until their whole bodies and souls were aligned. She was so sure of her "taking it slow" tactic but the press of him against her, his taste, his smell, it all changed her mind so quickly and so drastically that she was disappointed when he interrupted their moment. And she understood his point, and was even impressed by it, but she still wanted more of him.
She had trouble sleeping, instead stared at the ceiling while her mind replayed the kiss on loop as the desire it brewed got easily overtaken by a sense of juvenile thrill that kept her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and her hands firmly away from herself because for once she didn't crave relief; she wanted to enjoy this feeling.
She's still thinking about it now, Monday morning, as she rides the elevator up to the office. The weekend had dulled the sparks a little bit, but as soon as she set foot into the building, Harvey's territory, her heart was racing again. Her fingers drum against her leg agitatedly and she swallows her impatience when she senses the elevator stopping at the 48th floor, indicating she will soon stop being alone.
She almost gasps when she sees it's Harvey who is standing there.
"Hey," he says, sounding surprised.
"Hey," she replies, equally stumped, and the image of him leaning in instantly jumps to mind and she bites her lip.
He must read her thoughts because he clears his throat and she thinks she can see a blush creeping up his neck as he steps inside and stops next to her, turning to face the metal doors.
"So. Friday was fun," she says after a moment of expectant silence, taking it upon herself to address the subject since she couldn't stop thinking about it all weekend.
"It was," he says, not looking at her. Then, "When can we do it again?"
She blinks at the floor buttons, biting back a smile. "I'll send you some dates."
He leans in sideways, gaze still fixed ahead. "Not if I send you some dates first," he murmurs, and then the doors open to their floor and she doesn't have time to respond before he's strolling off as if nothing happened.
She snorts, unable to stop herself as the same juvenile thrill bubbles inside of her again and she thinks, without entirely mustering enough energy to be worried about it, that maybe she's down bad.
Turns out the next time they're both available is two days from then, and he's adorably uncertain when he asks her if she'd like to go to a Broadway show. She tries to refute, fully aware that theater is not really his scene, but he insists, telling her again that he's serious about this. She considers refuting again but decides against it, thinking that if Harvey wants to woo her, she'll let him woo her.
And woo her he does.
He picks her up at home and compliments her on her understated navy blue dress. The car is Ray's, but there's a chilled bottle of champagne inside waiting for her and she grins at his flashiness, then laughs openly when he says it's actually to help him get drunk so he can sit through the full duration of the show.
She thinks he doesn't pay a lot of attention to the play but that's okay because she does and she loves it, and she might love it even more that he kept stealing glances at her the whole time, his knee quite conspicuously brushing hers whenever he rearranged on his seat. It's a different dynamic for them; despite the rules and lines and tension, they've always been very comfortable around each other, so this nervousness, this uncertainty, is new. But not unwelcome. It sends butterflies flapping their wings in her stomach and sparks flying all the way up her leg until they warm up her cheeks. She likes this, feeling unfamiliar with him. Familiarity gave them a lot, but she's starting to think it also held them back. Maybe they can change that now.
After the show, they have pizza at a nearby restaurant, a tiny hole in the wall whose owner Harvey knows. They seem overdressed but the pizza is worth it, and so is laughing with him at silly things. She doesn't really understand this shift between them, doesn't know where it came from. She thought leaving his desk would make things harder, not easier, and at first it did - there were awkward moments, head-butting, his frustrated sighs at not being able to just ask her to fix his life like he used to.
But then it got better, and she doesn't know if that was him maturing or just things falling into place, but suddenly not having the bond they'd always clung to left them space to explore other ideas of other bonds they could have. She thinks he started seeing her in a new light now that she's not his direct subordinate anymore, even though he's never treated her as an employee. She also thinks he realized there's more than one way he can have her, if his concern really was not losing her. He no longer has her as a secretary, but he can have her as something different. Something more.
Maybe that more she asked for wasn't just about work. Maybe it was about this too. Maybe they can finally have it all.
He walks her up to her apartment again and they kiss again, just as intense but this time less desperate, more certain that what they're doing is right, and that they'll have time for more. Once again fire tickles her belly as they breathe each other in but they don't go further, don't even go inside her apartment, because she feels like they're building up to something here and she wants to cherish this steady climb to its fullest extent. Harvey seems to feel the same, not bashful nor disappointed when they part with an air of finality. She texts him good night and falls asleep with a smile on her face.
The rest of the week is busy, and despite a few attempts, all they manage is a quick lunch together on the following Thursday, but she likes it that they're both trying, and connecting however they can in the meantime. She doesn't mind the delays and unforeseen hiccups because for once it feels like they're in the right place, at the right time, and delays and hiccups don't matter because they may postpone, but she feels it in her bones that they won't prevent the inevitable.
And the inevitable finally comes, on Saturday night, via plans for dinner at a restaurant.
He once again offers to pick her up and she accepts. When she steps out of her building she finds him there, arms crossed, leaning against one of his fancy rental cars, looking charming in his navy chambray shirt and easy-going smile. The night is unusually warm for this time of the year, she's feeling free after a full week of work successfully completed, he's at her door looking like this and, well, they've been on three dates already. She doesn't want to wait anymore.
"Where's the reservation at?" she asks, weighing her options.
"Quattro Gatti," he tells her and, yeah, that settles it.
"Let's skip it," she says, taking one step towards him, then another, "We can have dinner here."
Harvey frowns questioningly, but she just bites her lip coyly and takes his hand, tugging him away from the car and closer to her. He complies, still unsure of what she's playing at, and she erases his doubts by capturing his lips, kissing him deeply from the start, hungry and clear. He sighs against her and wraps his arms around her waist almost unwittingly, and a chill runs down her spine at the power she has over him. They kiss a lot more intensely than they should considering they're in the middle of the street, but she doesn't care.
He pants against her when they part. "Let's go upstairs," she whispers enticingly.
Despite his loss of composure, his fingers tighten around her hips, keeping her in place when she tries to pull back and go into the building. "Are you sure? 'Cause I'm in no hurry," Harvey tells her sincerely, staring deep into her eyes, and her heart explodes at his words and implication. She appreciates the sentiment, more than he could know.
But yes, she's sure.
"I'm sure," she nods, rising up to kiss him again, just a tease, before taking his hand and taking the lead.
Being with Harvey again is a wild, powerful mix of emotions. There's burning, scorching desire from all the years of having to hold back. There's soothing relief at finally having this, what she's wanted for so long. There's pleasure - extreme pleasure - from the fact that they both know exactly what to do to drive the other crazy. There's delirious, gleeful incredulity, because after all they've been through she was starting to believe this would never happen.
There's... Well, there's love.
They are not making love exactly; this is too fumbly, too mindless, too giggly for that. They've waited long enough, and they're in no hurry, like Harvey said, but they also don't want to waste more time just staring into each other's eyes, they'll have time for that. Right now they just want to be together, to be one, to quell their hunger. But there is love there, she can feel it in her bones.
It's hidden in the way their bodies move seamlessly together, like well-oiled parts of the same engine. It's laced between their sighs and moans, dedicated entirely to each other. It's mixed with their tongues as they taste each other again and again.
And afterwards, after they've both exploded with pleasure and come back to the feeling of each other's arms, that's when they stare into each other's eyes. She's lying half on top of him, faces close, stares glued to each other. His arm is stretched out beneath her head, serving as a pillow as his fingers tangle with hers next to her ear. His other hand is running soft, mindless paths over her thigh as she caresses his jaw, his neck, his chest. They're peaceful and sated and she feels whole in a way she never has before.
"Better than dinner?" she smirks lazily and quirks a brow at him when she feels the silence has stretched on for long enough.
"Oh, I've been well fed," he matches her smirk and even as she grins at him she can feel a throb in her center from the memory of his expert tongue between her legs. She's been very well fed too, that's for sure.
Their laughter dies down and Harvey leans in towards her ear, brushing his nose against her cheek. "This feels right," he whispers, so low she almost misses it, and her heart skips a beat.
"It does," she whispers back and they share one final look before he kisses her lips, then the tip of her nose, and they both allow themselves to drift off for a moment.
There is love here, and it's all she's ever wanted.
.
A few weeks go by and Harvey can barely believe this is an actual relationship, the thing he's run from his entire adult life, the thing he could never make work with anyone else no matter how hard he tried.
Being with Donna feels almost suspiciously easy. He never really let himself picture this actually happening, afraid he'd get disappointed by their previously platonic reality, but he supposes that if he had, he would have known it would go like this. Same humor, same tastes, same wishes and moods, incredible sex and just this... joy at being together. Never wanting it to end. It's a natural evolution from their previous dynamic, a dynamic that was so in sync it's no wonder all of his girlfriends and most of Donna's boyfriends took issue with it. They've always fit, and this thing right here feels like it's what they should have been all along.
It feels like everything he's ever feared or worried about regarding relationships effortlessly falls into place with her in a way he never could have imagined.
He should have known it wouldn't last. And it begins to end the second they agree to tell people at work.
Surprisingly, he's the one to suggest it. They've been very good at keeping their status to themselves and he likes living in their bubble, playing mind games with each other at the office and then coming home to their new reality. But they're together now, and the more their relationship grows, the more he realizes for how long he's wanted that, and so being with Donna is not something he wants to hide anymore. Donna tells him she feels the same, but he can see she's hesitant and unsure. He tries to talk to her about it but she brushes him off, telling him she's just being silly because this is big, which he can sympathize with.
So they agree, and they start telling people. There's no announcement or fuss, but they no longer time their arrivals to disguise the fact that they rode to the office together, they walk into each other's offices with heads held high even when they don't have a work excuse, and even though they maintain a firm "no PDA" rule, they shorten their usual distance and stop hiding their smiles. Obviously, with the way this office feels more like a rumor mill than a place of business, it takes no time for everyone to find out. And that's when everything goes south.
He doesn't mind the whispers or the stares, is used to it from the mountains of ways he's attracted positive and negative attention over the years, and he would never be ashamed of being with Donna anyway. But with her it's different. He doesn't hear about any outright nastiness - which is good for everyone because he'd break the person's fucking neck at the first opportunity -, but he knows she's bothered by comments, and assumptions, and looks. He doesn't understand why she feels that way, because their friends are happy for them and he doesn't give a shit about the rest anyway, but for some reason Donna does, and nothing he says seems to help the situation.
His initial M.O. of simply ignoring people works well for him, but it doesn't soothe her, because the rumor mill doesn't stop and it starts to grate on her. He tries supporting her, agreeing with her ideas and suggestions, trying to show her and everyone else that he trusts and values her and that he thinks she's brilliant. But then she picks up on it and gets angry, telling him she doesn't want him saying things he doesn't believe just to appease her, that it's patronizing. So he tries the opposite approach, attempting to stay truthful to his opinion and give her space to confront him and win arguments on her own merit, like she's been doing all this time. But it seems like she takes to this a bit too well, because she starts challenging him, purposefully doing things her own way, disagreeing with him whenever possible, and after one too many times he starts thinking it can't just be random.
Things at home seem to be relatively normal, but at the office it's getting complicated. He raises the issue with her one night, cuddling on the couch, but she tells him he's seeing things, that she's just trying to make sure that their relationship doesn't interfere with their work and that he should do the same. He tries, but he's struggling to understand how she wants him to behave, because everything seems like too much or too little. And with Louis being a little shit and things without Jessica being so much harder and Mike acting up with that stupid Reform Corp thing and Alex being on his case, it's just a lot to deal with, and the load isn't helped at all by Donna challenging his decisions or telling him off.
With time, nothing gets better. There are more fights, first about work stuff but then also about silly household stuff. There are nights spent apart, few and far in between, but still more than before. He feels Donna starting to get distant, almost like she's actively trying to distance herself from him at the office, and panic takes over and his fight-or-flight instincts kick in, making him even more paranoid and headstrong and inflexible. He pulls the managing partner card more, which pisses her off, and it terrifies him at the same time as it gives him a perverse sense of satisfaction. It's only been a couple of weeks of this but his mind is already supplying several detailed scenarios of how everything could go wrong.
Everything comes to a head on a stressful Tuesday night, after he learned of Alex' true involvement in the prison case and got in a fight with Mike about it.
She's waiting for him in his office, wanting him to sign off on some insignificant thing he doesn't have the time or patience for right now. He tells her as much and she tells him that's too bad because she needs it now. So he rolls his eyes internally and takes the folder from her hand, ready to just sign the paper and be done with it, but he notices there are several changes made to what they had previously discussed.
"This is not what we agreed on," he turns to her.
"No, it's better than what we agreed on," she counters, impassive.
Her tone and her words annoy him, and maybe this isn't the best time, place or way to do this, but he simply cannot handle one more goddamn thing not going his way right now, and if Donna wants to go down that road, he's ready to go right down with her. "Well, I don't care, I'm not signing it," he fires back petulantly.
"Don't be a child, you didn't even want to review it now in the first place," she frowns, uncrossing her arms.
"Yes, but you insisted I do it and I did and I'm telling you I'm not signing it until it reflects what we discussed," he sits down defiantly, waiting for her to bite.
And bite she does. "This doesn't even fall under your purview," she argues indignantly.
"I'm managing partner, everything falls under my purview."
"Why are you being an ass about this?" she throws her arms open.
"Because it seems like you want to go back on the terms we agreed on just to spite me," he fires back, feeling his pettiness swell fiercely in his chest. He's been trying to be better, but he's still the same man he's always been, and maybe the nice, agreeable, peaceful version of him that had been showing its face in his relationship with Donna was just a front for his true self.
"Okay, what is going on? Because there's no way you care this much about minor administrative shit."
"What is going on is that apparently my direct orders mean nothing to you," he locks his jaw.
"Direct orders? You're not my boss anymore," she scoffs incredulously.
"Yes, you've been making that very clear!" he snaps, his voice raising unwittingly.
Donna narrows her eyes for a second, processing his words, and he tries to hold his own and keep her out but she reads him like a fucking book as usual. "Is that what this is about? You're mad that I don't work for you anymore?"
He doesn't even know at this point. He's mad that their dynamic at work has changed, even if their dynamic at home has also changed, and for the better. He's mad that he doesn't know how to act around her at work now that they're together. He's mad that she shuts him out and keeps her distance and antagonizes him and he's mad that this hurts him so much when he can so clearly see she's been letting him in in other ways. The thing is, work has always been their thing, and he's always been scared of messing with that because he was afraid she'd leave him. And he's glad he gets to be with her in new ways, but their work relationship doesn't seem to be going well, and there's something terrifying about that crumbling down, because for all his faults, at work he's always been able to make things work. And if he's no longer able to make work work, who's to say he'll be able to make everything else work too?
"No, Donna, I'm not mad that you don't work for me anymore," he spits out, though he suspects neither one of them is convinced by his words, "I just find it pretty fucking interesting how intent you've been on separating yourself from me as if I'm the fucking plague or something!"
Donna scoffs again. "Please, I'm not separating myself from you, I'm disagreeing with you, there's a difference. I do have a mind of my own, you know?"
"Oh, believe me, I know," he says, and he can see her working her jaw at his tone, "And you can have a mind of your own all you want, but when you do that by disagreeing with every single thing I say, that becomes a fucking problem."
"I'm sorry, were you under the assumption that just because I'm your girlfriend now, I would just roll over for you at work too?" she crosses her arms, sarcasm dripping from her lips.
It's his turn to scoff. "Please, you don't roll over for me anywhere!"
"And I thought you liked that!"
"Not when you're supposed to be helping me run a fucking business!" he flaps his arms.
"I am helping you, by being honest," she fires back, and things are starting to get a little loud.
"Well, if that's your idea of help, then I don't want it!"
"You know what? You're just mad that you don't get to boss me around all day anymore like you used to!"
"And was that so bad?" he explodes, truly at a loss here, because for all that he's happy and grateful for the development of their personal relationship, he has never once been unhappy with their professional one. And he thought it was the same for Donna, but maybe that's not true. She did ask for more, after all, and her "more", at least at work, meant getting away from him.
He thinks she's going to follow him down this path he chose, but she changes tracks. "I can't believe this," she shakes her head, eyes fierce, "The one time I make a move that doesn't involve you, it sends you reeling like a fucking baby."
"I'm not reeling, and you can do whatever you want, but you don't have to act as if working for me was so horrible in the first place," he counters, and he doesn't even know what he's really upset about.
"I'm not acting that way, I just don't want to be in your fucking grip all the time!" she runs a distressed hand through her hair.
"Why not?!"
"Are you serious?" it's her turn to explode, but before he can reply she straightens up. "Wait. Is that why you asked me out?"
Her words make no sense and he frowns. "What?"
She clearly doesn't share his confusion, shaking her head as if she has him all figured out. "That's why you wanted this relationship, isn't it? You felt like you were losing your hold on me at work, but you had already said yes and you couldn't go back on it, so you found another way to have me?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" his frown deepens, and if he was lost before, he is even more so now.
"Do you even actually want this?" she fires at him, and the words hit him like a slap on the face.
"Do you even actually want this? Because from the second we agreed to tell people you've been cagey and antagonizing and fucking difficult," he retorts heatedly.
"No, I haven't, I'm just trying to show people that our relationship won't affect my work."
"Well, then congratulations, Donna, you've been playing your part so well that I'm not even sure people still think we are in a relationship anymore," he says it, and the words seem to hurt her as much as they hurt him, because she freezes in shock for a second before spitting out a big, fat "fuck you" and storming off, leaving him behind, alone in his half-lit office.
He goes home to his apartment and, unsurprisingly, she's not there. He didn't really think she would be, but they spent most nights at his apartment so far and he got used to coming home with or to her. The mere month and a half or so they've spent together was already enough to erase all memory of his previous life and he doesn't want to go back to it
Still, obviously they had a fight - a bad one - and she isn't here and everything sucks and he's torn between being pissed at her for acting like she's been doing for the past couple of weeks and pissed at himself for what he said tonight and for stirring up trouble when he didn't have to. He goes straight to bed, not even having any dinner, just eager for this day to end.
He wakes up to no message from her, and pride and shame mix in his gut and prevent him from texting her as well. He tries to act normally and see how she'll respond when they inevitably bump into each other in the hallway. But it turns out bumping into each other isn't that inevitable, even with them having neighboring offices. He doesn't see her all morning, and then he has a few meetings out of the office and when he comes back her things are gone.
He goes home to another lonely night, the first time they've spent two nights in a row apart, and he feels silly for finding this significant, but it is. One night sometimes felt necessary, good to blow off steam, but they always met up during the next day and made up, and the following night was spent in each other's arms. A second night apart feels like the first step towards a distance that will gradually become too large to bridge, and he's terrified of that but he also thinks he's being too clingy, so he lets it go, hopes tomorrow will go differently.
It doesn't. It goes exactly the same, and by now he's absolutely sure she's avoiding him and that this must mean something, and his brain starts to spiral, unhelpfully convincing him that she'll leave him, that he has ruined everything once again. He debates going to her place after work and knocking on her door, but he doesn't know what to say or where to start, and, frankly, he doesn't even know if she'll answer, and then he'll be left standing in her hallway like an idiot.
He doesn't know how to handle this, how to get out of this mess, he just knows he misses her and he wants to be with her and forget any of this ever happened. He's so absorbed by his own misery that it's only on Friday, when he wakes up and checks his phone - again no messages from her -, that he notices the date. December 23rd.
They hadn't really made any concrete plans for Christmas, but it was understood they'd spend it together. He'd floated the idea of them driving to Boston on Christmas day since he hadn't seen his family for Christmas in a very long time and having Donna there would help settle his nerves over being with his mother again. She'd seemed keen on it, especially since her own parents were traveling and wouldn't host anything this year. And now even that is ruined, because he doesn't feel like going to his brother's place and facing the avalanche of emotions that is sure to come without Donna there. He's spent so many Christmases alone, it just feels really unfair that the first time he got the chance to experience something else, he ruined it.
It's the worst Friday of his life, spent wallowing in self-pity and procrastinating work, and at this point he almost wants her to break up with him and put him out of this misery of not knowing.
As if on cue, his phone pings with a text from her. She's asking if he can meet her at her place tomorrow morning because she wants to talk. He doesn't know what to expect, how to react, but even just being allowed to see her feels like an improvement from the rest of this week. So he says yes and they schedule a time, and then he's left thinking that he'll be at Donna's place on Christmas Eve day, to either make up or break up, and both options sound equally likely. He decides that if this is his final chance, he won't go down without a fight.
He'll prove to her that he cares and respects her, both in their relationship and at work. And he knows just what gift to get to show her that.
.
Their fight had completely unsettled her.
At first she was angry, left his office stomping her feet and huffed all the way to her apartment. He was being selfish and immature and how dare he call her difficult when he couldn't even handle signing a stupid document just because it didn't go his way. She went to bed mad and hoped he could feel her irritation all the way from his apartment.
But when she wakes up all her rage from the previous night has dissipated, leaving only hurt in its wake. She's hurt by his words, but she is also hurt by the fact that he was right. She's been going out of her way to make sure she is seen as her own person at work, and that's important to her, but not enough to be worth risking what they have finally found.
The thing is, she's always been associated with Harvey. He's always been her boss, after all, and even though she has spent years building her own connections and establishing her own channels, her failed experiment with The Donna showed her that, in the end, it's his name that opened the most doors for her. And she enjoyed that, and she's grateful for all the opportunities he's given her both directly and indirectly, but she's at a different stage of her life now. She's COO, and she wants to make a name for herself, a name that isn't necessarily dissociated from Harvey, but that isn't as tightly linked to him either.
Things are different for women. Their success gets doubted all the time, their authority challenged, their professionalism questioned. She's lost count of how many times people thought, implied, assumed or asked if she had ever slept with Harvey, and she knows Harvey has never paid these comments any mind because he doesn't care, because even if it were true it wouldn't damage his reputation, but she does. She cares a lot, because she's worked so hard her whole life and finally, finally got the recognition she deserves, and just shortly thereafter Harvey and her got together and she loves that, so much, but she doesn't want it to taint her accomplishments.
Harvey did ask her about it, but she didn't know how to be honest with him, because she doesn't want him to think she regrets starting this relationship, and there isn't much he can do anyway because he simply has no way of understanding what it's like for her. She needs to soldier on and shut people up with her persistence and her hard work, but having Harvey all over her, either agreeing with her like he's her lackey or constantly undermining her decisions, only makes things worse.
There is also the matter of whether she was right and Harvey could really have started this relationship as a way to keep her in his orbit, even if subconsciously. He mentioned his mother and the shift he'd been sensing and it had all rung true - she doesn't doubt his feelings for her, much like she doesn't doubt hers for him. But his behavior last night was possessive and diminishing and petty, and it does make her think he needs to understand she needs her own space. She doesn't suppose he would have actually tried something with her as an unwitting power play, but it's clear that he does feel powerless about their work situation, and she can't have that because it's bad for both of them.
She needs to find the right balance between making her own path at work and alienating him. She needs to reassure him that her putting some healthy distance between them at work doesn't mean he's losing her. She needs more reassurance that Harvey won't lash out or retreat to his old coping mechanisms whenever he's afraid she'll leave him, because those mechanisms have never served them well before. And she needs him to trust her feelings as well, needs him to believe they are true regardless of work or even personal fights they might end up having.
She understands he's nervous and scared, she is too, but she worries that if he doubts their relationship at every turn, they won't survive.
She spends a busy morning thinking through all this as she works from a café, choosing not to stay at the office because it is part of her inner conflict, as is Harvey. After lunch, when she's feeling more centered, she goes back to her office, noticing, on her way over, that his own is empty. It's for the better, she thinks, because she still needs time to process all of this and decide how to move forward. Going home alone feels strange and unfamiliar, her apartment too quiet now that she's used to Harvey's animated chatter in the evenings.
She considers going to talk to him on Thursday, but she chickens out, still unsure of what exactly to say, and he hasn't texted her yet either, which could mean he's still mad and she doesn't want another fight. She considers letting things be for a little while, but then she notices that Christmas is two days away and she doesn't want to spend it at odds with Harvey, she wants to spend it in his arms. So she decides that if he doesn't make a move by tomorrow, she'll reach out. In the meantime, an idea occurs to her, something she thinks might help get her point across.
She waits anxiously for him on Saturday morning, trying to calm her heart rate, which goes haywire when she hears the knock on her door. They greet each other shyly, nervously, and as she leads the way to her living room she hopes to God they can fix this.
"So...," she starts after she's successfully bought them another five minutes by offering him something to drink and they went to sit on her couch.
"So," he replies timidly.
"I...," she trails off as she gets a sudden bout of jitters, but she takes a breath and tries to start slow and simple. "I asked you here so we could talk about our... situation."
"Right," he nods.
"I... Look, I'm sorry," Donna closes her eyes and shakes her head. Obviously they need to talk it all through, but an apology is due. "I lost my cool that night and said things I didn't mean."
Harvey looks like he releases a deep breath. "I'm sorry too. You were right, I was being childish."
The atmosphere between them is still awkward and delicate, but the mutual apologies clear the air a bit.
"Look-"
"Can I- Can I go first?" he interrupts her and she shuts her mouth and nods. Harvey inhales and starts. "I get that the opinion of people at work is important to you," he starts slowly, staring down at his hands as they fidget between his knees, "I know their comments and rumors affect you differently than they do me, and it's not fair but it's still true. And I get that one way to fight that is by distancing yourself from me. I just... I just really want this to work, Donna. I need it to. And when you distance yourself from me like that, it makes me feel like... Like you might leave. And that terrifies me."
Despite all the confusion and the negative feelings inside of her, his words make her heart thunder in her chest, beating loud and only for him.
"Harvey, I told you this already, I'm not leaving you," she tells him gently, trying to sound reassuring.
"I know you think that, but you already left once. Who's to say you won't do it again?" he counters, voice calm but stubborn, and she can see his brows furrow a little as he works his jaw.
The words sting and shame burns her cheeks. She knows how much her leaving him for Louis affected him and she still feels bad for the aftermath of it, but she thought they'd moved past that already. "Come on, that's not fair...," she cocks her head, voice quiet.
"I'm not- I'm not trying to attack you," he shakes his head. "I get why you did it. It's just... a fact, isn't it?" he shrugs helplessly and looks at her.
She wants to believe with all her heart that he's wrong, that she won't ever leave, but she's not naïve. She knows he's right. So she bites the inside of her lip and nods.
Harvey raises his brows around a meaningful look, and the conclusion of his point hangs heavily between them.
"Okay, fine. Maybe I can't guarantee that I won't leave," she concedes carefully after a moment, "But I can guarantee that I'm happy, Harvey. And I don't want this to end." He bites the inside of his cheek and she continues. "But I need you to believe that. Because maybe this thing between us wasn't a power move, but clearly something about me putting some distance between us scared you and we can't keep going like that. I need you to let me have my own space, especially at work, and I need you not to think that means I'm leaving you. And in return I'll try not to let people's opinions get to me too much, because I'm proud of us, and I don't want to hide that anymore."
"Okay. You're right," he takes in her words and nods, "I'll try. But you also need to talk to me about these things. Even if you don't want me to do anything about it, you need to trust me with it."
Warmth blooms in her chest at his words and at how mature he's being right now. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'll try as well," she says softly, biting her lip and nodding.
He presses his lips together in a tiny smile that gives her the first glimpse of clear skies ahead for them, after a gruesome three days.
"I'm proud of you too, you know?" he adds, "For how far you've come. And I do respect you." She knows that, feels it even more now, but before she can reply, Harvey continues. "Which is why I got you something."
He gets up and walks to the front door, returning a minute later with a package. He hands it to her and sits down, watching her untie the bow and unwrap it. It's a sleek black frame, and in the middle sits a page with the press release announcing her as COO, printed in gold foil and signed by hand by him. She stares at it in awe, feeling her eyes well up a little. This is far from the most expensive or extraordinary gift he's ever given her, but it's the most meaningful of all. It shows her not only that he respects her and that he's proud of her, like he just said, but also that the riskiest move she's ever made, the thing that could have destroyed them and tore them apart completely, actually made them stronger. It brought them together. And if breaking their professional bond didn't ruin them, she firmly believes nothing ever will.
"I know you already have a copy of it but I thought you could maybe hang this in your office," he scratches the back of his neck.
"I love it," she reassures him right away, smiling gently at him and reaching out to squeeze his arm. "Thank you."
His smile grows a little and it's so endearing she wants to kiss it off his lips but she stops herself, not wanting to waste the moment. "I got you something too," she pulls away and reaches for a tiny box sitting on the coffee table. "I get that me trying to find the right balance between work and us might be... hard at times, and I want to make that a little easier for you." She slides the box towards him and waits.
Harvey picks it up, opens it and stares at its content for a while, speechless. "Are these your keys?" he finally asks, turning to her, his voice sounding slightly dazed.
Donna nods. "That way you can have access to me whenever you want," she shrugs a shoulder, suddenly feeling a little bashful. It doesn't make sense that this would feel like a big move because she's had his key for years, and he's been coming over since they got together anyways so this doesn't change things all that much in practice, but it does feel big, because as much as she wants some distance between them at work, she doesn't want any other distance anywhere else. She's ready to share everything with him; her home, her body and her heart.
He breathes out a puff of laughter but she can tell he's touched by her gift as well, because his eyes glisten a little when he leans closer and kisses her. It's gentle and chaste and she missed it.
"Merry Christmas," he murmurs almost against her lips and her heart jumps with joy at the fact that they're okay again, and that this is happening, and that it's their first Christmas of many together.
"Merry Christmas," she murmurs back, leaning back in to kiss him some more until they need to part for air.
"Don't think you won't have to get me a real present," he jokes once they do.
"You're one to talk, you got me a piece of paper," she quirks a brow and smirks teasingly.
"Well, that and the Hermès package sitting by the door," it's his turn to smirk, smugness dripping from his voice.
"What?" her eyes widen comically as she grins, "How did you manage to pull that one over on me?"
"Left it by the door before I followed you in. You were too busy being mad at me to notice," he purses his lips petulantly and she rolls her eyes, completely in love with him.
"Does it come with the receipt though? Cause we both know you're not great at buying gifts," she ribs him back.
"How wrong can you really go with Hermès?" he tips his head, making her laugh, and she wants to call him an idiot but she kisses him instead, letting her feelings speak for themselves.