A/N: This is a strange concept, I know, but it felt remotely plausible under the right circumstances and I wanted to explore that. Hopefully this is entertaining, even if it isn't something any of us would really like to see happen (trust me, I know - writing this was WEIRD).
Also, I know in 5x07 Harvey asks Donna out to celebrate two weeks of them being on decent terms again, but I'm gonna need us all to pretend the gap between him thanking her for twelve years and him asking her out was a bit longer than that for the sake of this story, okay? Okay.
Finally, infinite thank yous to happyoreokidd, who patiently made sure this story came to life. If you hate it, take it up with her :)
Donna used to think babysitting Harvey was hard, but babysitting Louis is a whole new level. On top of needing his feelings explained to him like Harvey did, and having a heavy secretarial workload attached to his cases, the man is an actual child, impulsive and rash, seemingly naturally predisposed to making the wrong choice, always prone to picking the most complicated, absurd, ridiculous way of approaching everything. He's a brilliant lawyer, but he demands a degree of constant surveillance and safety net-ting him away from the precipice that Donna wasn't accustomed to, and it takes a toll on her after a busy week.
To add to that, things with Harvey have been... weird. He thanked her for twelve years and then completely shut her off again, barely speaking to her since. He isn't acting as scorched earth as before, but he hasn't exactly been friendly either, and what little interaction they've had had an undercurrent of tension - a tension she knows has been spilling over with the people he has been interacting with. So yeah, maybe coexisting with him hasn't been as emotionally damaging as it was those first few months, but it's still difficult, and frustrating, and so tiring.
She still feels like he blames her for leaving, like he cannot understand why she did, cannot see the value or need for her to put herself first for once. She still feels like he can't see past his idea of her, past his expectations, his wishes and his needs, and she gets it, she let him down and she wishes she hadn't, but she couldn't keep choosing him over herself anymore.
And he can't keep holding that against her forever.
So, all in all, it's been an overwhelming few days - an overwhelming few months, really - and she desperately needed to decompress alone, away from prying eyes, somewhere no one would bother her and, more importantly, somewhere she wouldn't risk running into anyone from work, especially Harvey. She remembered a laid-back bar a friend from yoga recommended once, not too far away from her apartment, and decided to check it out, for lack of a better idea.
It's a bit more sports-fan-dudebro than she'd like but it's not too crowded since it's not a game night, the counter is large and the bartender is friendly, which is all she really needed. She takes out her book and sets it on the wooden surface, clearly indicating she isn't open to conversation, and orders a beer, deciding this is a night for change.
She spends a good half hour completely engrossed in the story, barely noticing the noises around her and the new patrons coming in, and as she works her way through her first beer she can finally feel some of the stress leaving her body.
It doesn't last long, though.
"Donna?" she hears next to her, and it takes her a second to place the voice, but as soon as she turns towards it the stress comes rushing back into her bones.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she rolls her eyes at Travis Tanner standing there, his lips curled around a curious smile, casual clothes and hair devoid of all his usual gel.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he goes on, undeterred by her negative reaction, his voice amicable.
She doesn't give his faux attempt at friendly conversation any stock, though. "Uh-uh, no," she immediately cuts him off, "Just keep walking, Tanner."
He presses his lips together and raises his hands in surrender - and, dare she say, even looks a bit contrite. "Alright, alright, I'll keep walking. I was just going to ask if you're alright."
The words throw her off. Travis Tanner is an asshole who doesn't care about anyone other than himself, and she knows a woman in her forties sitting alone in a bar reading a book doesn't exactly scream "I have my life in order", but she wouldn't think she's looking that pathetic for him to need to ask that. So she just frowns. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"
He drops his hands and buries them in his pocket. "I know you're not working for Harvey anymore. I figured something serious must have happened if it led to that."
Her cheeks burn from the fact that a complete stranger - an opponent, no less - is aware of that, and that Harvey and her seem to be so transparent that even Travis Tanner knows they can't simply go their separate way like normal people. But she covers it up quickly. "And you thought we'd have a nice little chat about that while you filed away every last thing I say to use as ammo later?"
He eyes her surprisingly warmly. "I'm not that guy anymore, Donna. I used to be, but like I told Mike and Harvey, one day I got tired of it, and I've been trying to be better ever since."
"Oh, right, that totally sounds like you," she glares at him, and he snickers.
"I know it doesn't, but it's true. I even resigned from the last case we had against each other to convince Harvey that my client's offer was legitimate."
That information is surprising, since the Tanner she knows would never pass on an opportunity to beat Harvey and rub it in his face. But the Tanner she knows would also have no problem lying and deceiving to get what he wants.
"And because of that I should tell you all my deepest, darkest secrets?" she questions skeptically.
Tanner smirks. "I'm not asking you for your deepest, darkest secrets, Donna, I was just asking if you're okay, that's all."
Donna scoffs, "Uh-huh, sure, Mother Theresa."
He takes the dig in stride. "I figured you wouldn't believe me. Harvey didn't either. Didn't mean to bother you, I'll let you enjoy your night," he says and raises his hands again, his voice sounding like resignation as he walks away.
She should just let him go, should let him walk away and not think twice about it because regardless of his reformed speech, the guy's always been a jerk. But something about his comment about Harvey not believing him gets to her and sobers her up.
She knows Tanner's situation is not at all like hers. Harvey has every reason not to believe him and so does she. But she also knows how it feels to be dismissed by Harvey again and again, to be isolated by him, treated like a stranger, because he can't really see you, only sees his anger towards you.
When Harvey loves, he loves fiercely, with no boundaries, all stops pulled. But when he resents, he resents just as fiercely. You can feel his disappointment and his disdain thick in the air like the humidity before a storm. It weighs on you, makes you feel small, wrong, insufficient. He sets high expectations for the people around them, and once you fail them, it's hard to be seen as anything more than that failure.
No matter how much she tried to make it clear to him that she still cared about him, that she wasn't betraying him, that she still wanted to be friends, he kept dismissing her time and time again, at first treating her like the enemy and then like a stranger. And even now that things are supposedly better, she can still sense him holding on to his anger and his hurt; it's like she tries to move them forward and he keeps dragging them back. And it seems like he's done the same with Tanner.
Maybe Tanner deserves Harvey's resentment, but maybe he is indeed a changed man - and, from what he just told her, that does sound like a possibility, as unlikely as it may have previously seemed. And, if that is the case, she doesn't want to be like Harvey. She doesn't want to shut people out no matter how much they try to be let in. She doesn't want to see only the worst in people, doesn't want to believe they're not worth a second chance or a vote of confidence. She doesn't want to dig her heels into her resentment and refuse to budge.
So, even though she's still skeptical and still cautious, because Tanner really did show time and time again that he couldn't be trusted before, when he turns around and starts putting some distance between them, she calls out, "Wait."
He pauses, looking at her over his shoulder.
Donna takes a breath, toying with her glass. "If you really mean that, maybe you can take a seat and tell me more about this 'come to Jesus' moment of yours," she offers, glancing sideways at the empty stool next to her.
"Are you sure? Because I didn't want to disrupt your evening," he asks, and she softens a little at his seeming earnestness.
She doesn't know if he deserves her good will, but she does know that she wishes Harvey had given her more of his. And so she decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. "It's not like I have anything else going on," she gestures to the empty space around her. "Unless you do," she adds after a beat.
Tanner snickers. "I have just about the same going on as you," he says before moving to take a seat next to her and ordering another round for them both.
As soon as their beers reach them, she turns to him. "So, what exactly happened to make you want to stop being a huge asshole?" she teases him with a smirk, and he laughs out loud at her jab.
"It'll sound cliché, but I was representing an insurance company, horrible case, a plane crash with 200 deaths," he grimaces down at his glass, "I helped them cheat all of those families out of money, got a huge success fee from it." He sighs, then goes on, "And then I went home and couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned in bed for hours, and when I finally managed to doze off, I had nightmare after nightmare. Next night was the same thing. I went four nights without sleep, and then on the fifth day, when I woke up, I decided I was done. I couldn't keep living like that."
It does sound a little cliché, but Tanner is far from the first corporate lawyer she's heard of that came to regret all the damage he'd done in the name of his clients. The law can be a beautiful tool to create justice and peace, but it can also be a viciously blunt instrument, bludgeoning vulnerable people into submission. Even Harvey, who claims to be averse to having emotions, has harbored regrets about some of the things he's done for cases. There's no reason why the situation couldn't have been the same for Tanner.
"I haven't taken one case that I don't believe in or done anything that I couldn't stomach since," the man adds, seemingly deep in reflection, and Donna gets a sense that he's being honest.
"I see," she hums in response, "And now, what? You rescue kittens from trees and help old ladies cross the street?"
He chuckles, "I wouldn't say I'm quite there yet. But at least I'm not ruining anyone's life."
"Well, that's a definite step up from who you used to be," she jokes, though this time it's more humor than snide.
"Man, I really didn't cause a good first impression, huh?" he turns to her with a grin, and Donna laughs out loud.
"Or a second. Or a third," she smirks.
"Well, I appreciate the chance to cause a different fourth one, then," Tanner tilts his glass towards her and she accepts the toast, sipping her beer at the same time as him. They move on to lighter topics, then; they never actually got to know each other, so they start exchanging basic information - where they're from, where they went to school, hobbies and interests. She finds out he's a surprisingly avid reader, that he's the oldest of five siblings from Virginia, that he still has both grandmothers and is very close with them, that he likes natural history museums.
She tells him about herself too. She's careful not to share any compromising information - she's trusting, not stupid -, but she still allows him a glimpse into her life, her time in drama school, her piano lessons. It had been a while since she'd last spent time with someone she didn't know, and it's refreshing to have somewhat of a clean slate, to be able to present herself to someone who, even though he already knew the basics about her, doesn't have any preconceived notions of who she is. She realizes, as she's talking to him, that she had missed this. She spent the past weeks desperately trying to redefine herself, to learn who she is without Harvey, at the same time as she had to push back against Harvey's attempts to misdefine her, to mischaracterize her feelings and her needs and her wishes.
It's been exhausting, having to fight him and herself and everything she's known for the past twelve years, having to question every last thing she thought she was sure of. So sitting here and being able to have a simple conversation with someone who is willing to just take her words at face value, whose judgment isn't clouded by his own agenda, is invigorating.
They order another round of beers, then another, trading anecdotes and factoids. His cockiness and sarcasm are ever present, but she finds out that he can be funny without being demeaning, that he can be an engaged listener, that he's not exactly a nice guy, but he isn't unkind either. She likes being positively surprised by people, even though it doesn't happen often, and this time she's more than positively surprised. There's a whole other side to Tanner that she didn't know, never bothered to find out about because they'd pigeonholed themselves into plaintiff and defendant and those are the worst possible roles to get to know someone through.
She decides that inviting him to sit down beside her and giving him the benefit of the doubt was the right move. He's a funny, interesting guy, and he deserves to be known beyond his arrogant and untrustworthy veneer, even though that veneer was what he himself was presenting to the world before.
And, in a way, she feels like that was kind of the case with her as well. She went so long having the same approach to her relationship with Harvey that both of them got used to it, and that's okay, but once that approach stopped working for her he lashed out, desperate to stick to what he knew and refusing to contemplate a new side of her or even them. But he doesn't get to dictate that. He doesn't get to dictate how she should feel, doesn't get to issue ultimatums on what they can or can't be. And he may get to decide who she is in his life, but he doesn't get to decide who she is in hers.
Maybe she's spiraling. Maybe these two situations have nothing to do with each other. But right now it feels like they do, and this realization is surprisingly liberating.
Another hour passes and she's completely absorbed by her conversation with Tanner. They've turned to deeper reflections, discussing philosophical takes on society and interpersonal relationships, and it fascinates her how smart he is, how many unexpected references he brings, like The Little Prince and Plato, and how he does all that without coming across as pretentious. It's a shame that he chose to hide this whole part of his personality from everyone for so long, but she feels fortunate to be able to have contact with it now, and she hopes he'll keep showing it to more and more people in this new phase of his life.
She doesn't know if it's the beers or exhaustion or this revelation, but she starts feeling increasingly comfortable around him, not in any truly consequential way, but just... sitting next to him, talking about a bunch of different things. They joke about the baseball rerun playing on TV, share a bowl of mini pretzels that appears in front of them at some point and talk so freely and naturally that she loses track of time. When the bartender announces last call she's almost mournful, not quite ready for the night to end, since it has been such a nice and welcome reprieve from everything she's been going through. But they both have to work tomorrow and, bar going somewhere else, they don't really have another choice.
"Are you catching an Uber?" he asks as he deposits some bills on the counter.
"No, I live nearby, I'll just walk," she replies, putting her coat on.
"Are you sure? It's pretty late," he glances at his watch.
"Yeah, it's fine, it'll take almost the same time as waiting for a car anyway," she shrugs.
"Let me at least walk you home, then," he proposes, a frown of seemingly genuine concern creasing his brows. Common sense tells her to decline his offer, but it is a little later than she'd like, and it's not like he can't find out her address some other way if he really wants to, so she supposes there isn't much harm in accepting.
They engage in some small talk as they walk the few blocks to her apartment, and soon enough they're stopping in front of its entrance.
"There you go, safely delivered," he gestures for her to step ahead of him towards the door. "I had a nice night, Donna, thank you for that," he adds with a gentle smile.
"I had a nice night too," she smiles back at him, and out of nowhere comes a flutter she knows very well, though this is the last context she expected to feel it in. She eyes him for a second, the flutter intensifying in her stomach as her fingers start to tingle.
Tanner watches her expectantly, clearly waiting for her to bid him good night and get inside. Her brain starts working overtime, contemplating her options here.
She knows she should just say goodbye and leave this night behind, save it as a nice memory. But she just... doesn't want to. She's felt free tonight, and good about herself, and light, and she thinks none of that has to do with Tanner, not really, but it was still him who helped her feel this way, it was him who helped her take a night that seemed fated to failure and turn it into unbridled fun.
She has no clue what exactly is going on with her to make her even remotely consider this - maybe she's finally gone insane - but, well, they're both single, both adults, and both standing in front of her apartment. She hasn't been with anyone in a while, too swept up in her Harvey drama, and right now the prospect doesn't sound as daunting as it had been.
It doesn't hurt that he looks a million times better in his green sweater and freely styled hair than he does in his suits and gel.
Her heart stutters as she questions one last time if she's really doing this, but she decides to throw caution to the wind.
"Would you... maybe want to get a nightcap?" she asks, biting her cheek, and she'll admit she sounds a bit nervous even though she's trying to come off as casual.
He stares at her like she's grown a second head. "You're kidding, right?"
She just shrugs, anxiety mixing with a certain thrill inside of her. Tanner hesitates, clearly thinking her proposition is lunacy, with which she doesn't disagree. But she's been cautious all her life, and especially so for the past twelve years. She deserves a night of no consequences - one that won't end up with her hurt and frustrated a decade later.
"Are you sure? I don't mean to be out of line here, but I could sense Harvey and you have... some kind of history, and I wouldn't want to get in the middle of that," he argues cautiously.
The words should grate on her, the same old tired assumption everyone always makes about her and Harvey, no matter the setting. But they energize her instead, making her even more certain that she wants this, even if just as a way to distance herself from Harvey, to prove to herself that she's not pathetically tethered to him even when he wants nothing to do with her.
"There's nothing to get in the middle of, Tanner," she says, voice sultry with a tinge of bitterness that she hopes he can't catch, "You can come on up or not, but Harvey has nothing to do with this."
Eventually he takes a breath and nods. "Yeah, okay. I do want to get a nightcap."
She smiles a little and enters the building, him trailing after her. Once they get to her apartment she gets them both a dose of whiskey as he makes himself comfortable on her couch. She wasn't really looking at him as a possibility back at the bar, but now that she is, the thought is not entirely unpleasant. He's handsome in a polished way, and when he starts turning on the charm for real he even makes her blush once or twice. It's a sharp turn from where their night was originally heading, and it makes her nervous, but she keeps going, almost curious about how this will go.
When he finally leans in and kisses her carefully, it's a little awkward. They take a second to adjust, not a natural fit right away, and there's a brief flash of panic inside her brain, questioning what the hell she's doing. But soon enough she quashes it, focusing on being present in the moment as he kisses her again, this time more enticingly. She manages to lose herself in the kiss, letting go of her hesitation and concentrating on the way her body feels as he threads his fingers through her hair and brings her closer.
It doesn't take long before she's pulling away from him and leading him to her bedroom, shedding the last of her reservations at the door.
.
.
Tanner doesn't stay the night. She doesn't offer, and he doesn't ask, because they both know this isn't the start of anything, this doesn't have any potential, it was just a random, meaningless night of fun. And, though their mutual image of each other certainly changed after tonight and they both had a good time, they're also ready to go their separate ways.
He texts her the next day to thank her for the night and they chat a bit, but soon enough the conversation dies, which she's fine with. Thinking about it now, with a clear mind, she feels a bit weird for having done that. It's Tanner, after all, and it's weird to think that she just slept with a man who went up against them quite a few times and who was one of the sleaziest opponents they've ever faced. But she does believe he's changed, that he's better now, and she feels a certain degree of pride in knowing that she managed to push past that initial reservation, that she didn't stick to her previous judgment of him.
Besides, she needed that too, to tune out her mind and her worries and all the grief she still carries with her. Last night was good for her, as crazy as the whole thing was, and for that she's grateful.
Days go by and she kind of forgets it even happened, focuses on work and on not upsetting the delicate balance Harvey and her have found, a balance where they're not even close to being as friendly as they've always been, but where he's not as angry with her all the time. There's tension, but it's buried deeper under the surface than during those first weeks.
Until one day Harvey is in court and Louis sends her over there with documents he needs signed. She sits at the back of the room, watching in wonder as he expertly crosses a witness, and there's a pang of nostalgia there for when she was on his team and his wins were hers too. They pause for lunch and she goes to wait for Harvey in the hallway, reviewing the pages he needs to sign and double-checking that everything is alright.
"Hey," he greets her simply as he joins her, already motioning for her to give him the file.
"Hey," she replies, feeling the usual tingles of nervousness she's been feeling every time she interacts with him ever since she left his desk. He's focused, as he usually is during hearing days, and she doesn't say more, just waits for him to be done with the signatures so she can get out of his way.
It's just her luck that at the exact same second as Harvey is handing her the signed papers, Tanner comes rounding the corner, headed to the other court room at the end of the hallway. She panics internally, turning her face a little in hopes that he won't see her because she doesn't want to have a moment in front of Harvey.
It's no use, though, because with him walking right past them, it's impossible for him not to notice her, and that's exactly what happens.
"Harvey, Donna," Tanner nods at them cordially.
Harvey looks up from his document and, while he doesn't look thrilled to see the other lawyer, he's civil enough. "Tanner," he replies simply, with a nod of his own.
Donna just gives him a protocol smile, silently begging for him to just keep walking, and when he doesn't stop to chat she starts relaxing, thinking she's in the clear.
Except that right as he walks by her, he smirks and winks. It's a small, subtle movement, something meant only for her, a move she thinks is more about acknowledging their secret connection than properly flirting, but it still makes her cheeks burn and her eyes widen a little. And, to make it all infinitely worse, Harvey sees the whole thing.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Harvey immediately snaps, his whole demeanor transforming into combativeness.
"Harvey," she reacts instinctively, trying to avoid a scene.
"What?" Tanner plays dumb, looking back at Harvey as he continues to walk away.
"You goddamn know what," Harvey steps towards him, chest puffing unwittingly, "You talked such a big game the other day but you're the same fucking sleaze that you've always been." He squares his jaw and she knows that stance, it's his fight stance, and she immediately extends an arm in front of him, trying to block his way and diffuse the situation.
"Harvey!" Donna calls out again, more authoritatively this time, and he stops in his tracks, looking at her. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Tanner seize Harvey's distraction and hurry away.
"What?" he bites at her, "He gave me a whole song and dance about being a changed man and yet here he was, flirting with you in front of me just to piss me off!"
It registers very briefly in her brain how absurd it is that someone flirting with her in front of him would be able to piss him off considering she's nothing of his, but she doesn't have time to be exasperated by that right now because she needs to calm him down.
"He wasn't flirting with me to piss you off," she says nervously, lowering her voice in hopes he'll lower his too and they'll stop giving everyone in this hallway a show.
"Oh, really? How d'you figure?" he asks sarcastically, flapping his arms at his sides.
"Because it wasn't about you, he was just flirting," she tries to wave Tanner's actions off as insignificant, but Harvey clearly picks up on some underlying meaning because his eyes narrow as he watches her closely.
"And how the hell would you know that?" he asks menacingly, and a group of women some good feet away steal furtive glances at them.
"Jesus Christ, Harvey," she mutters under her breath, quickly spotting an empty meeting room a little further down the hallway and dragging him by the elbow until they're safely inside. He crosses his arms, fixing her with a stare that makes it clear he didn't forget his previous question.
"I just do," she fires back, impassive.
"Bullshit," he practically spits out. "Why would Tanner be flirting with you like that when he's never done that before?" he presses on like a dog with a fucking bone.
"That's none of your business," she tries to call his bluff with some retaliating anger but he doesn't budge.
"Stop deflecting and answer the goddamn question."
He has some nerve talking to her like that, and she has half a mind to tell him to fuck off and walk away. But, rationally, she knows his question is justified. They were never on good terms with Tanner and she would have no reason to believe what she just told Harvey, especially since Tanner had never even talked to her before unless it was to taunt Harvey. And she doesn't want to make things worse between them, afraid to offset the minimal advance they've had lately. Besides, she told herself she had nothing to be ashamed of for sleeping with Tanner; it's time to put her money where her mouth is.
So she just takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders. "Not that I need to explain myself to you, but he and I hooked up a few nights ago."
There's a terrifying beat of silence as Harvey blinks and works his jaw. "I'm sorry, I must not be hearing right because I thought I just heard you say you and Travis Tanner hooked up and that can't possibly be it," he says, voice strained and eerily sarcastic, and she braces for his explosion as she just juts out her chin defiantly.
At her silent confirmation, his face contorts in anger. "Is this a fucking joke?!"
"No, Harvey, it's not, and you don't get a say on who I sleep with!" she fires back at him, frustrated by his entitlement and his pigheadedness.
"I don't give a shit who you sleep with but this time you literally slept with the fucking enemy!" he calls her out, and she's glad she found this empty room because his voice is loud enough that the entire hallway would be hearing them if they were still out there.
"He's not the enemy, Harvey," she scoffs and rolls her eyes at his childishness, her own voice rising, "He's a decent guy. We bumped into each other at a bar and bonded and I decided to invite him back to my place, as I'm allowed to do because I'm a fucking adult!"
"Oh, really? And what the hell could you two have possibly bonded over?"
"You know what? This!" she finally snaps, "This is exactly what we bonded over, the fact that you have your head stuck so far up your ass that you can only ever see your needs and your side of things and your version of events."
Her words and tone were a little harsher than intended, but it feels like she finally released something she'd been bottling up for a long time. It is still true that she doesn't want to lose whatever progress they've made recently, but ever since she went to work for Louis she's been trying hard to accommodate his needs and feelings, trying to reassure him that she cares about him despite her hurt, whereas apart from his unexpected display of grace a few weeks ago, he's been constantly shitting on her head, throwing tantrums left and right without paying any mind to how he's making her feel. And now this, him acting all entitled and like he has any right to feel outraged by a decision she made in her personal life that has nothing to do with him; it's just the last straw.
Harvey recoils. "You talked to him about me?"
"No, but I could tell that's how he felt over your last interaction, and it struck a chord with me."
He frowns indignantly. "So, what, you slept with him to spite me?"
The comment makes her huff in frustration. "No, Harvey, I didn't. Did it occur to me that you'd be upset if you ever found out? Yes. But I didn't do this because of you, I don't live my life like that anymore. And the fact that Tanner and I managed to find common ground largely because of how we were both treated by you should really tell you something," she tells him firmly.
"What happened between us and what happened with him are not the same thing," he retorts, sounding hurt.
"I'm not saying they are, Harvey," she reassures him, deflating a little, "I'm saying we both felt invalidated and undermined because your vision was so clouded by judgment you couldn't listen to us."
His mouth clamps shut and he locks his jaw, frowning deeply around a look of indignation, though she guesses the fact he didn't immediately reply must mean he's trying to process what she's saying.
"That's not fair," he says eventually, voice dripping bruised pride, "I just thanked you for everything."
She rolls her eyes internally at his self-centered reaction. It is truly remarkable how a man as brilliant as Harvey, who is so good at playing the man and commanding every situation expertly, can be so frustratingly juvenile when it comes to dealing with his own emotions. But she swallows that thought, focusing instead on diffusing tension, seeing as he has finally lowered his guard a bit.
"I know you did, and I appreciate it," she concedes, because she knows him and she understands what it took for him to take that step and everything he was admitting to and apologizing for with those simple words, "But it doesn't erase everything that happened before that, Harvey."
He just stares at her, clearly troubled by this whole conversation, but before either of them can say anything else, his phone pings with a message.
"Hang on, I have to check this," he says begrudgingly, fishing out the device from his pocket.
"It's fine. We should leave it at that anyways, I need to get back to the firm and you should go have lunch before the trial resumes," she sighs, not entirely defeated by this turn of events because he could probably use some time to reflect on everything she just said. They'll likely never mention this again, as they seem so keen on doing whenever it comes to their relationship, but she doesn't know what else there is for her to say either so maybe it doesn't really matter.
He reluctantly nods, and they part without saying goodbye, each trying to collect themselves quickly so they can focus on the work ahead of them.
.
.
She's standing by the elevators, waiting for one to reach her and eager to call it a day, when she hears footsteps behind her.
"Hey, I just got back from court, did everything work out with that document?" Harvey says semi-awkwardly, leading her to turn around.
"Oh, yes, Louis sent it to the client and they okay-ed it already," she replies, silently mourning the sound of the elevator opening and closing behind her.
"Oh, okay, good," he replies, nodding absently, and then buries his hands in his pockets and looks away, not saying anything.
As the silence stretches on, she starts feeling dread spreading through her at the prospect of him reviving their earlier conversation. Her head is pounding and all she can think of is rushing home, taking a warm bath and having a glass of wine. She has no energy or mental power to fight, much less manage, him right now, and she silently pleads to whoever is listening that he'll just let her go.
"So, before you go, I just wanted to say that I heard you," he tells her reluctantly, finally gazing at her from underneath his lashes, "And that I hope what happened today doesn't set us back".
His voice is strained and stilted, denoting how uncomfortable he is with this conversation, which doesn't surprise her one bit. His words do, though - it's as good an apology as she's likely to get from Harvey, and, frankly, it's much more than she expected given the circumstances. It doesn't fully address everything they discussed earlier, nor does it completely validate her feelings, but the way his eyes don't flit away as she stares into them shows he's at least silently acknowledging the implied meaning behind his words. And she decides that that, coupled with the fact that she also doesn't want them to be set back, is enough for now.
"It won't," she nods slightly, infusing her voice with earnestness so he knows she means it.
"And, for the record, you were right, it's none of my business who you sleep with," he continues, still a bit hesitant but visibly more relaxed than a moment ago. "I'd just appreciate it if you could steer clear of our archnemeses next time," he adds with a weary smirk.
She knows there's truth to his request, but the word choice lets her know he's also mostly joking, so she lets out a puff of laughter and gives him a tiny smirk and a quirked eyebrow in return. "I'll try my best."
They eye each other for a moment longer, still awkward and miles away from what they used to be, but she can feel the previous tension dissipating a bit and that already counts for something.
"Alright, well, goodnight, Donna," he says quietly, shifting towards the hallway that leads to his office.
"Goodnight, Harvey," she says back, watching as he walks away.
Once he's out of sight, she sighs a breath of relief. The day ended up taking a turn for the better, against all odds, and, as she pushes the button to call the elevator again, all she can hope for is that they continue to make progress so that one day they can hope to recover at least some of what they lost.