I finally updated, sorry about the wait guys!
Chapter 6
Harvey wakes with a kink in his neck and donning more than a few scratches on his back. Half of his face is smothered by a pillow that smells distinctly like Donna. He allows himself to sink deeper into the bed, stretching out fully. When his foot comes into contact with nothing but a rumpled sheet his snap eyes open.
He specifically remembers falling asleep with her. They had woken up hours ago after making the joint decision that, no, sleeping naked on her carpet would not be the best course of action.
Donna had positioned herself at the far end of her bed, stubbornly refusing to face him. Harvey had retaliated by spooning right up against her back, holding Donna's hip to his, effectively trapping her. He had fallen asleep with a proud smile when she nestled further against him.
Harvey's rubs a hand against his tired eyes and groggily climbs out of bed. He's about to stumble out of the bedroom when he belatedly remembers that he is stark naked. His clothes are strewn about somewhere down the hallway that leads to Donna's bedroom. Harvey locates his briefs at the foot of the bed and slips them on.
He cracks open the door and the smell of coffee fills his nostrils. He's still mostly asleep as he walks into the kitchen and finds Donna leaning against the counter, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands. Harvey smiles at her with half-lidded eyes as she wordlessly hands him a cup. Her face is fresh and free of makeup, her hair tumbling messily around her shoulders. She's barefoot, clad only in the pale blue shirt he wore the day before.
"Nice shirt."
"Thanks, I picked it out."
He takes a sip of coffee, smirking behind his mug because he knows she did. Harvey rests against the counter opposite Donna, mimicking her stance. He's quite literally exposed, standing in her kitchen in nothing but his underwear. He should feel ridiculous invading her space like this, but she already occupies so much of his that it seems almost natural for him to finally do the same.
"I think you should leave," she says out of nowhere.
"What?"
Donna sets her coffee on the bench behind her. "This is weird."
He disagrees. "How is this weird?"
"You're Harvey…"
He looks at her, confused. "And you're Donna?"
"You are naked in my kitchen. It's weird."
Harvey laughs. "I was also naked in your bed," he points out.
Donna gives a dramatic roll of her eyes. "You're not helping."
Harvey sets his mug aside, takes a strategic step closer. "Would it make things weirder if I kissed you again?"
Donna bites her lip, her hips jut out slightly. "Yes," she says.
"Fair enough." Harvey takes a long sip of his coffee. Donna does the same. He watches as she brushes past him and disappears behind the door of her bedroom. He's disappointed when she emerges moments later in jeans and a sweater. She holds his shirt out, and he's not obtuse, he can take a hint. Harvey shrugs it on, keeping his eyes trained on Donna as he buttons it. She's biting her lip again and Harvey wonders if she knows how damn erotic he finds it.
"Pants?"
"You're a grown man Harvey, you can't dress yourself?"
"Sure I can, it's the undressing that I could use your help with."
He leers unabashedly at her and Donna fights the instinctive urge to smirk at him.
Harvey manages to locate his pants, wedged under the couch of all places. His suit jacket is draped neatly over a chair because apparently even a semi-naked Donna couldn't distract him from properly hanging it up. The second he slips the jacket on, she's already ushering him out the door.
"Tie?"
"One sec." Donna retreats back into her bedroom and after a moment or two, hurries back with his tie in hand. She's about to hand it over but instead reaches up and loops it around his neck, tucking it under his collar, knotting it with expert precision. He grins slyly at her when her hands linger on his chest just a little longer than necessary.
"I'll see you Monday?" he says, even though he's almost positive what her answer will be.
"Monday," she confirms.
When Monday morning arrives, Harvey is abnormally on time. He arrives at exactly ten minutes to eight and is greeted by Mike outside of the building. The kid jumps off his bike and runs over to him eagerly.
"You're here," he says, the phrase sounding like a question.
"It's Monday."
"And not even eight yet. What gives?"
Harvey stumbles, only for a second. "Early meeting with a client."
Mike gives him a disbelieving look, Harvey chooses to ignore it. They enter the building with Harvey striding to the elevator and Mike lagging behind. He manages to squeeze in just as the elevator doors snap shut.
"You're going to be so proud of me."
Harvey sneaks a sideways glance at his associate. "Somehow I doubt that."
Mike slaps a hand to his chest, "Harvey, you wound me."
It's then that Harvey notices a dark ring around Mike's eye. He gestures to the offending bruise, "Please don't tell me you're sleeping with married women again." Mike appears almost shocked by the accusation.
"Never again," he says truthfully.
They reach the fiftieth floor and this time when they step out, Mike matches Harvey pace for pace.
"That client from the other day…"
"I'm going to need you to be more specific Mike."
"Mr Pressler."
"You mean asshole Pete?"
"I think he just prefers Pete."
"What about him?" Harvey asks impatiently.
Mike puts a hand on his shoulder, giving Harvey no choice but to stop his hurried stride.
"That's the point I'm labouring to make." He pauses for dramatic effect, "I've managed to convince him to give us another shot."
Harvey shrugs Mike's hand off his shoulder. "It's not us who need to be given 'another shot'. We don't need business from a guy who jumps ship just because there happens to be a new name on our door."
"But we can't afford to lose a client this big," Mike argues.
"Fine then," Harvey relents. "Tell me exactly what you said to make Pete Pressler come back."
"This shiner right here," Mike points to his very obvious black eye, "Would have ended up on his face if it weren't for my interference."
Harvey almost does a double take. "You're telling me you took a punch for that asshole?"
"We happened to run into each other at that bar a few blocks down. I stopped him from getting his sleazy, drunken ass kicked." Mike informs him, practically beaming. "Apparently he was very grateful, and I was very charming – even in pain."
"What the hell were you even doing in the same bar?"
"I can't hang out at nice places?" Mike asks, only mildly offended. Harvey gives him a knowing look.
"Rachel goes there," he mutters, embarrassed.
"That is sad."
Mike scoffs, "Sadder than you stalking Donna for a week after the mock-trial?"
"I did not stalk."
"No, you begged," Mike snickers.
At the mention of Donna, Harvey quickly remembers why he actually came on time in the first place. He had planned on cornering her, possibly locking her in his office for a while, he'd thought gleefully. His strategy wasn't exactly well orchestrated but Harvey believed he could at least count on some privacy before Mike arrived. Of course the kid had to go and screw that up by not arriving late.
Of all the times to be punctual.
The two of them reach Donna's desk and Mike pulls out a coffee from behind his back, leaving Harvey to speculate where the hell he got it from.
"Kiss ass," he mutters under his breath. It's loud enough for Mike to hear, who shoots Harvey a glare.
Donna happily takes the coffee from Mike and begins rattling off a long list of messages. Harvey isn't paying even the slightest bit of attention because all he can manage to do is watch the way her mouth moves, remembering how talented it was at doing other things – things he really shouldn't be thinking about at work.
She's wearing that form-fitting dark grey dress that he secretly kind of loves, and he's all of a sudden having trouble thinking about anything else but what's hidden underneath it.
It takes a moment before Harvey becomes conscious of the fact that Donna is no longer speaking, but staring at him expectantly and trying to hand him a number of files. A sly glance at Mike informs Harvey that his expression matches Donna's.
He clears his throat and collects the proffered files. His thumb intentionally grazes hers, though she shows no sign of acknowledgement as she returns to her desk.
By noon Harvey had finally managed to get Mike out of his office after giving him a congratulatory pat on the back. Mike became skittish, still uneasy about any kind of willingly offered praise and had awkwardly fled the room.
Donna enters his office not long after, balancing a stack of contracts in one hand and two take away coffees in the other. Harvey moves to help her but she places the contracts on his desk, fans them out, hands him his coffee then takes a long sip of hers.
He hides a small smile behind the lid of his cup.
"Close the door," he tells her.
She raises an eyebrow but complies. "Been trying to get me alone?"
"All morning."
Donna takes a deep breath, sets her coffee on the edge of Harvey's desk.
"Do you want to say it or shall I?"
"You might not want to hear what I have to say."
"I can handle it," she says, standing tall, her shoulders squared.
"We shouldn't have slept together." He pauses, watching the brief moment her face falls before she covers it with the purse of her lips. "Because now I can't concentrate on anything else."
She's momentarily stunned and has to bite back a grin that threatens to appear.
"You are damned distracting, you know that?"
"I have been told," she says smugly.
He means it when he tells her, "It wasn't a mistake Donna, and it wasn't just some random impulse either."
It's probably the closest he's ever gotten to freely expressing any kind of emotion and she seems to recognise this.
Donna inches closer to his desk. "I know that. I just wasn't sure if you did."
"Well you kicked me out before I even had the chance to say otherwise."
She grimaces, near guilty. "I didn't want to give you the chance to regret it," she admits.
This time he feels guilty, because Harvey's well aware that Donna knows precisely what he is like, has ample evidence from the last time they crossed this imaginary, yet very real line. He's all too familiar with the memory of the other time, mindful of the fact that he had hurt her and very nearly ruined them.
Only this time is different, at least he thinks so. He wasn't looking for some source of comfort and it wasn't something that escalated in the heat of the moment. He certainly can't pretend to ignore it again – doesn't want to, is done trying.
"I would have stayed, if you'd let me."
"And we would have what? Spent the weekend together?"
He muses over the image of being tangled in her sheets, wrapped up in her until the minute they have to leave for work.
"Would that have been such a bad thing?"
"I – no, I guess not," she concedes.
He'll take that.