Author's Note: Okay, so assignments have been kicking my ass and I've been really slack with this update. Apologies!

Warning - A brief part of this chapter is M, if you aren't into that sort of thing, just skip ahead.

Chapter 9
_

It isn't that she panics, but Donna wakes before the sun rises with a sudden compulsion to get to work early and do some serious shredding. Harvey's body is like a dead weight though, and he's thrown half of it over hers in his sleep.

She finds it odd that he's a closet 'cuddler'. That he will mould himself to her so casually and unconsciously – as if the 'friends' part of their relationship has never existed.

With the morning light only just peering into her bedroom, Donna inspects his face. His mouth hangs open slightly, his lips in an adorable 'O' shape. There's a light crease between his eyebrows that seems to never quite go away. She can't control the thumb that traces the mole above his brow. Harvey stirs but doesn't wake, only sinks further into her.

Donna tells herself that it doesn't mean anything, that hearing him say the words doesn't leave her completely breathless and cause her brain to short-circuit. But she isn't that girl – the type who swoons, the type who lets her happiness be defined by the man in her life. The thought nearly sickens her.

But it means something all the same. Because her and Harvey don't talk in terms of love. And she only ever uses that word when she's kidding herself.

I am not in love with you.

She feels his foot nudge hers before it runs up against her calf. Harvey's hold on her tightens. He lets out a moan, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"Oh god my head."

"Good morning," she says a little too loudly. Harvey winces, cracking one eye open. His face softens when he sees her. He moves to kiss her.

Donna pushes her fingers against his lips. "Whoa, keep that mouth away from mine until you've brushed your teeth."

He looks almost offended, until a slow smirk spreads across his face. He's looking entirely too pleased for someone with a pounding headache. Then he's pinning her to the bed, trailing a line of warm, wet kisses across her jaw.

Harvey mock-sighs, "I guess I'll just have to find some other place for it."

His lips travel lower, reaching the collar of his Harvard sweatshirt. He breathes her in.

"It smells like you now," he comments.

"Guess I'd better wash it then."

Harvey pushes the shirt up, exposing her breasts. His mouth moves to her taut nipple, circling it with his tongue. "Don't you dare."

He sucks harder and she can't quiet the moan that falls from her lips. She arches into his hand as his thumb traces lazy circles on her other nipple.

Harvey lowers himself further, his lips ghosting over her belly button. His fingers caress the waistband of her underwear, slipping them past her hips and down her legs, tossing them carelessly on the floor.

"Thought you had a headache," Donna breathes, her steady voice deserting her.

Harvey is leering up at her from between her legs and it's possibly the hottest expression she's ever seen on him.

"Really not an issue at the moment."

Harvey's hands slip underneath her and cup her ass. His shoulders push at her thighs until she spreads her legs wide. A low moan gets caught in her throat when Harvey starts tonguing her clit. Then he runs his tongue along her slit, lapping at her once, twice, before plunging inside of her. She writhes against him, fisting both hands in his hair. She feels him grin against her.

Arrogant bastard.

For a while she forgets about everything, can hardly form a coherent thought – or any – when his mouth is working her steadily to climax. She feels herself coming undone and grips his head, reluctantly pushing his mouth away from her. Donna tries to pull him up but he stills her.

"No," he says against her skin. "This is about you."

Then his tongue is on her again and she feels like she's going to implode, combust from the inside out. She literally screams his name so loud that she ought to be embarrassed and he's so damn self-satisfied that Donna wants to clamp her legs around his head and make him stay there. Though she thinks he might not be abhorred by the idea.

"Fuck," she says, still in a haze.

"God, you're hot. You should definitely swear more."

"You're an ass."

"Yeah, like that," he laughs.

So she decides to write it off, because a drunken slur isn't a declaration of love. Regardless of how it makes her feel. She does let him kiss her then, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. For a few moments she's completely satiated, the urge to flee from her bed and hide behind a desk gone.

It takes a long, cold shower, two aspirins and several shots of espresso before Harvey feels like himself again.

Ray picks them up from Donna's and Harvey makes the man practically park on the sidewalk so he doesn't have to spend more than a minute in direct sunlight.

"Rough night Mr Specter?" he asks with a chuckle. Harvey tries to glare at him but the action causes pain to shoot behind his eyes.

"Miss Paulsen, lovely as always," Ray greets, smiling brightly at Donna from the
rear-view mirror. Donna flutters her eyelashes dramatically and laughs at Harvey when he seeks out her hand possessively. She slaps his hand and places it back on his lap.

"Donna, Ray has been picking me up from your apartment for weeks now," he mutters almost patronisingly. "He's no idiot."

Donna rolls her eyes at him. "Keep your hands to yourself in front of Ray," she scolds.

Harvey spares a quick glance at Ray, who is pointedly not staring at them. Ray – ever the professional, hasn't outright said anything of course, but Harvey swears he once heard the man mumble finally. Harvey couldn't help but echo the sentiment.

Harvey leans back against the leather seat, willing the pain behind his eyes to subside. He really shouldn't be having hangovers at his age.

When they are just a block away from Pearson Darby, Donna starts fussing over his appearance. She brushes lint from his suit – thank god she had a spare stashed away at her place – and flattens the sides of his hair that he couldn't be bothered dealing with earlier. She lingers a while, her sharp nails tickling his scalp.

"Donna, keep your hands to yourself in front of Ray," he mimics in a high-pitched tone.

Donna chews her lip, holding back a smirk. She doesn't shy away when Harvey tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He gets bolder, pressing his lips against her pulse point.

She smells like vanilla and it's damn intoxicating. Donna giggles at the touch of his mouth and he can't believe what a drunken idiot he'd been last night, that he had almost ruined this.

The car comes to a stop out the front of the building and Harvey regrets that they can't go on behaving like this for the rest of the day. He crushes his lips soundly against hers, ignoring the fact that he's probably making his driver incredibly uncomfortable.

He doesn't care, just wants to feel her smile against his lips. Then she's gone and sliding out the other door and he's left staring at an empty space.

The office is already bustling when they arrive and they're both surprised to find Mike occupying the sacred space of Donna's cubicle. Harvey ushers her towards the desk, his palm warm against the small of her back. The touch is innocent enough that it won't raise any eyebrows – specifically his associate's.

"Tell me, Michael…" she says smoothly, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You couldn't have waited in my office?" Harvey adds.

Mike motions with his head to Harvey's office. "Ahem. Yours is already occupied."

Harvey spots Scottie sitting on his couch, trying and failing to mask a glare when her eyes find his.

"Mike, out," Donna instructs.

He stands while Donna takes a seat behind her desk. Mike leans casually against it.

"Shouldn't you be at your own desk?" Harvey asks.

"I came here to give you those research notes you asked for."

Right. He'd forgotten, sometime between his fourth drink with Scottie and tumbling into bed with Donna. Harvey waves a dismissive hand, "Leave them with Donna."

"I even went by your apartment last night to drop them off, but you weren't home."

Harvey discreetly clears his throat. "I told you I was having drinks with a client."

"I came by late for that very reason."

"Gee Mike, I'm sorry I missed our play date, try not to let the feelings of disappointment overwhelm you," he says, sauntering past Donna's cubicle and into his office.

Scottie is staring blankly out of the window, her gaze lost in the city. When Harvey shuts the door, her head immediately whips around to face him.

"Look, I should apologise…" he starts.

"I don't know what the hell you're playing at Harvey," she interrupts, stalking closer to him.

"I know, I haven't been fair –"

"Fair?!" she says incredulously. "You've been toying with me, Harvey!"

He has. And now she's standing here with a shaky voice and crumpling face, and he really has no explanation for it.

Scottie breaks their eye contact. "And I've been trying to figure it out, you know? Because you asked Darby to let me stay here and keep my job. What the hell is it for if you don't love me?"

Harvey can't prevent himself from sparing a glance outside his office. Mike is staring directly at him, doing a terrible job of pretending not to listen through the thin, glass walls. Donna won't look at him and she's typing madly on her keyboard.

"I still care about you Scottie, I wasn't gonna let him fire you."

Scottie sighs. "God, that is such bullshit. You can't even look me in the eye and tell me you're in love with somebody else."

That trips him. His eyes widen, unconsciously falling on Donna. Scottie notices too, shaking her head almost sadly. She doesn't say anything more, but pushes past him and storms out of his office. She stops just at Donna's desk and the two share a look that Harvey can't decipher before Scottie disappears down the hall.

He shuts himself in his office and watches Mike walk away hopelessly. Donna still won't look at him but she gets up from her desk and Harvey is left watching her retreating form.

He finds her in the bathroom not a moment later and all he can think is how damn fitting. He can hardly remember what it feels like to have an argument that doesn't lead in here. Donna's hands are braced against the sink, her breath coming out in long pants.

She catches his reflection in the mirror. Without looking at him she says, "You want to tell me what that was about?"

Harvey crouches down, checking under the stalls. "Do you really want to do this here?"

"And what would this be exactly?"

Harvey releases a heavy sigh. "Donna, what do you want me to say?"

"Have you been sleeping with her?"

"No."

"Since the merger?" she clarifies.

"The day we fought, I…tried to" he admits.

She turns to face him, hand gripping her hip. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That your reaction to having an argument with me is to have sex with Scottie? Yeah, that makes total sense."

"The point is that I couldn't go through with it," he stresses.

"And what about yesterday?"

"What about it?"

"Come on, Harvey. The woman has barely been by your office since the merger and now suddenly she's in there before eight thirty, waiting for the opportunity to tear into you."

A beat passes between them. "I hurt her."

"You weren't having drinks with a client," she deduces.

"I met with her to discuss our joined case."

Her words dripping with sarcasm, Donna says, "It's funny, but you'd think I would know that, what with being your secretary and all."

"But I –"

"Kept it from me," she finishes.

"I didn't tell Mike either," he defends weakly.

"And are you sleeping with Mike?"

"For the love of God, don't even joke about that."

Donna doesn't even crack a smile, one hand still gripping the sink counter and the other tethered to her hip. "Is that what this morning was about?" she asks tentatively, "You were feeling guilty?"

Harvey chokes, because she's not entirely wrong. He did feel guilty, still does. Then maybe he shouldn't, because they aren't together, by any definitive means. Not once have they addressed this limbo that they are in, and as far as anyone else knows, she's merely his secretary.

Except even as the thought invades his brain, he recognises what a complete load of bullshit it is.

"I didn't sleep with her. But I did kiss her."

Donna's face falls, if only for a second. She nods, releasing her grip on the counter. She smooths the wrinkles in her dress and pushes her hair off her neck. Her eyes are tinged red and her cheeks are pink, but she schools her expression into an impenetrable mask of aloofness.

"I have work to do," is all she says before exiting the bathroom.

Harvey does the same and can't help but wish she screamed at him instead.