I know this has been the longest wait between updates but I wrestled with this chapter for so long before I felt it was finally ready to be posted. Plus as of three hours ago Uni is officially over for the semester so my time will be mine again! Thanks to all those who review, follow and favourite, it's legitimately the highlight of my day.
Chapter 10
It takes every ounce of restrain she's capable of, but Donna marches back to her desk and manages to keep from bursting at the seams. Harvey is a mere few steps behind her. He stops at her cubicle, his lips parted, the words I'm sorry on his tongue.
But if she hears them now she might just explode. She refuses to meet his eyes and he stands there awkwardly, unmoving in front of her. He walks away and for once she's grateful for his silence. When she hears the door to his office close, she reaches underneath her desk, unplugging the intercom.
Donna spends the next few hours clearing out Harvey's inbox and making calls to clients. She's far too chipper on the phone, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. Still, she gets lost in the familiarity of work and with each passing minute it becomes easier to ignore the feel of Harvey's steady, unwavering gaze.
Mike swings by later and god bless the kid he has a triple, non-fat, sugar-free mocha latte in his hand. She's so relieved to see him she could cry. Donna retrieves the large cup from his outstretched hands.
The milk is scalding and it leaves a pleasant, burning sensation on her tongue. "You are my hero," she says between sips.
Mike swells with pride at the compliment. He signals toward Harvey's office, "Is it safe to go in there?"
She grins so widely that her teeth ache. "Go ahead."
Mike cocks his head to the side, giving Donna an odd stare. "Are you okay?"
"Give me a few more sips of this coffee and I'll stop feeling like such a zombie."
Her answer seems to suffice and Mike disappears into Harvey's office.
Since there is nothing particularly pressing, Donna takes the opportunity to stash herself away in the file room. It's midday and most people are taking their lunch breaks so the area is blissfully deserted. She finds herself easily comforted by the repetitive dullness that sorting through case files offers.
Except without the constant chatter of assistants and associates, or the shrill ring of telephones, her own thoughts become a little too loud. And the goddamn 'love you' is playing on a loop in her head, interrupted only by the 'I kissed her.'
It's Scottie's voice that disturbs her musings.
"If I ask you the same question again, here, will you promise to answer it honestly this time?"
The tone she adopts is without malice, and far softer than the one she used with Harvey hours earlier. Donna wants to hate her, thinks she might already. But this isn't her fault. In this scenario it's Scottie who's been burned, and the betrayal Donna feels has nothing to do with what she's done.
"Scottie…" she trails off.
"Are you in love with him?" she says slowly, pronouncing each word meticulously.
"Does it matter?"
Scottie exhales exasperatedly. "God, can't somebody around here give me a straight answer?"
"Yes," Donna responds, so quickly that it surprises her. But the relief that comes with finally acknowledging it aloud isn't as satisfying as she'd imagined.
Scottie shakes her head. "I don't know why I came back here," she says, more to herself than anybody else.
"You had to try," Donna offers.
Scottie sighs despondently. "I can't compete with…what you two have."
"There was never a competition, Dana."
The woman gives a humourless laugh. "No, there wasn't."
After finally emerging from the file room, Donna returns to find Harvey's office empty. She resumes her position at her desk where a lukewarm cup of coffee rests beside her computer. A small note is taped to the lid.
Gone for the day. – H.
Blunt, direct. He writes like he speaks. Donna balls the note up in her fist and disposes of it in the trash. She does the same with the coffee.
Donna packs her things, shuts down her computer and is out of the office by five, struggling to remember the last time she left so early.
He realises what a mistake this is, even as he's making it. The city is cloaked in darkness by the time Donna pulls up in a cab in front of her building. She notices the flowers first, before her eyes reluctantly slide up to his face. By the scowl that sets in her brow, Harvey wonders if maybe he should have just bought her a Marni bag instead.
"What is this?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
Her frown deepens. Okay, not the time to play coy.
"I wanted to beat you here before you could slam a door in my face."
Donna says nothing.
"Not that I don't deserve it," he hastily adds.
Donna pushes past to the entrance of her building. Harvey dares to drop a hand to her waist but when her head snaps around he quickly withdraws it.
"Harvey, go home."
He holds out the bouquet of lilies to her like some hopeless sap. She regards them with disdain, though he happens to know they're her favourite flower.
"Flowers are not an apology," she informs him.
He drops his hand, letting the bouquet hang loose by his side. It's the second time he's ever given flowers to a woman and it's going about as well as last time.
"How about new shoes? The day off? The week off?"
Harvey is acutely aware of the fact that he is now pleading. Donna breathes an exasperated sigh and her eyes do that thing where they roll right up under her eye lids.
"My god, you are unbelievable."
For a second he thinks she may laugh, but then she shoves him with such force that he almost loses his footing.
"You can't just buy my forgiveness this time, Harvey."
"Isn't it what we've always done? I behave like a colossal ass and then I buy you something pretty."
This time Donna practically growls in annoyance. "I'm not just your damn secretary anymore!"
When the words register he understands that he's treating her as if she is just that; throwing half-hearted apologies at her like he doesn't give a fuck. He reaches for her hand and glides his fingers through hers.
"Donna, I don't want to screw this up."
"You know, I keep hearing all these things but you still haven't said the three words you are actually meant to say," she retorts.
"I love you."
The words are out of his mouth so fast that he doesn't even realise he's said them aloud until he observes the complete shock on her face.
"I. Am. Sorry," she says, counting the words on her free hand.
Ah. Idiot.
"Don't say it just to diffuse an argument."
"Are you going to ignore it like you did last night?"
Harvey doesn't miss her quick intake of breath. "You were drunk."
"And therefore had no reason to lie," he defends.
Donna extracts her hand from Harvey's fingers, crossing her arms over her chest. It's an obvious defensive move, but Harvey just thinks it makes her look small. He resists the impulse to envelop her in his arms.
"You lied about Scottie."
To be fair, he was waiting for that. "Because I didn't want to ruin what we started."
Harvey takes a step closer but she holds a hand out in front, preventing him from coming any further.
"You know what? I've been thinking about this all day and we gave it a shot but –"
"No."
"No?" she asks incredulously.
"You don't get to decide this is over –"
"Harvey," she says tiredly, "We tried."
"Not after I just said…"
Donna's lip catches between her teeth and Harvey knows she's trying not to cry in front of him. When he steps closer again, she doesn't stop him. His hand ghosts over her cheek, only to be met with a cold air when she retreats once more. She swivels on her heel and enters the building.
Harvey tosses her flowers out in the street.
To the casual observer, things would appear as they always have. But Mike prides himself on his perceptiveness, and he knows these two stubborn individuals well enough to detect when they're faking it. Harvey may excel at concealing his emotions, but Donna has it down to a fine art.
It's nothing major; they don't ignore one another or erupt into a vicious fight of scathing words - they're not him and Rachel. They are subtle, discreet in the way they slowly unravel before his eyes.
They're good, he realises. So good in fact, that it takes a full two days before Mike notices that Donna won't enter Harvey's office unless he is in it and that the two don't ever share a conversation unless he is present.
Little things catch his attention first; the tightness of Donna's voice, the smile she works too hard to keep plastered across her face, the way Harvey's eyes drift over to Donna's desk every few minutes. Mike wonders if it's some sort of paranoia, a constant reassurance that she hasn't left yet, that she won't in the next moment or the one after.
When isolated, these observations aren't of particular importance. But when combined, Mike feels like he's piecing together a puzzle, adding up each individual fragment until a whole picture begins to take shape.
After a week of quietly observing the two of them, he's beginning to feel a lot like a voyeur and more than a little intrusive. More importantly though, he has discovered two things.
The first; it's Donna who's mad at Harvey. Not the other way around. New York City's self-proclaimed 'best closer' wears stoicism like a second skin, but when it comes to Donna, the remorse is written all over Harvey's face.
The second; this is bigger than the memo. Seeing Donna walk out of Pearson Hardman with her things in a box and tears in her eyes had been hard. And seeing Harvey's face when somebody else showed up at her desk had been equally hard. Mike thinks this might just be worse.
They don't banter. They don't tease one another or even him. They arrive at the office on time and leave early. Harvey doesn't linger at Donna's desk and she never walks into his office unannounced. Mike's beginning to feel like the middle man, a kid caught between two parents who don't remember how to communicate with one another.
He and Harvey are in the midst of discussing a case when Mike asks, without even a trace of finesse, "What's up with you and Donna?"
To the man's credit, Harvey doesn't flinch at the bluntness of Mike's question.
"There's nothing going on."
Mike had expected the instinctive denial, it is Harvey after all. What Mike hadn't been prepared for was the dejected tone of his voice when he answered.
"Harvey, come on," he says disbelievingly.
Harvey clears his throat and snaps his laptop shut. "It's none of your concern."
"I beg to differ."
"Then please explain, because I'm fascinated why you think mine and Donna's relationship has absolutely anything to do with you."
Mike takes the harshness of his words in stride. "I have to work with the both of you, don't I?"
"Still none of your business."
"What the hell could you have done to upset her this much?" His question is met with dead silence and an accompanying glare. He tries a different approach. "People are starting to take notice."
It's stretch, but not a complete lie because Louis did mention something about Donna's 'flawless ice queen impersonation' the other day.
"You don't know what you're talking about. As usual."
"I know that Donna can barely stand to be around you anymore."
That does it. Harvey doesn't say anything for a while, and Mike wonders if he's going to jump over the desk and throttle him for running his mouth off.
"You know, we've only ever had four big fights," he says pensively.
"Not bad for twelve years."
"Thirteen," he corrects with a small smile.
Curiosity gets the better of him. "What happened?"
Harvey shrugs dismissively. "It's ancient history."
"Fine," he concedes. "Well how did you resolve things those other three times?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Harvey, if you just keep apologising eventually she'll hear you."
"This isn't like some pissy little fight you have with your girlfriend," Harvey snaps. "A simple 'I'm sorry' isn't going to do shit. You don't know Donna and me, so stop pretending to!"
Mike's mouth slams shut at Harvey's explosion. He sneaks a casual glance at his surroundings, noting that several people have stopped dead in their tracks outside of the office at Harvey's uncharacteristic outburst. Mike feels marginally embarrassed, but no more than his boss. Harvey's eyes are wide as Donna gapes openly at him from her cubicle, because even without the intercom she can hear every word.
Mike watches as she stands shakily to her feet and storms off down the hall. Before Mike can even process the moment, Harvey throws him out of the office and lands in a heap at his desk with his head in his hands.