Hi everyone, once again thanks for all the support on this fic. It truly means the world to me, especially now that I've truly come to realise it's time to say goodbye to this one. The next chapter will (with 95% certainty, cause it's me. hi. I'm the problem, it's me) be the last. It's been a long and wild ride with this one, from thinking it would be a long one-shot, okay maybe a two-part fic, to it turning into this beast, now nearing 200k words. I like to plan in advance and outline, but I truly had not foreseen this back in December 2018 and I can honestly say no other fic has taken me on a journey like this one, creating so much joy and doubt as I went along, so to see that now, four freaking years later some of you are still here waiting for this fic. Yeah, it means the world and I hope you'll all stick around for the end.

Anyway you can thank or blame (depending on how you like this chapter) Miss Taylor Swift for the sudden burst of inspiration, so with that. Here's chapter 19. I hope you'll like it and as always, would love to know what you think in the comments.

x - M

MISTLETOE MYSTERY CHAPTER 19

Flinging her red scarf around her neck, she pats the pockets of her coat to check for her keys as she opens the door with her other hand. Just as she's about to step outside she comes to a halt again, her eyes widening the second she sees his face.

"Ooh my god," she breathes. "Harvey, you're hurt."

Her concern sounding so genuine his ingrained response is to slow down and reassure her. He automatically lifts his hand back to his injured face, realising it's a mistake when it stings just the same. He catches her move and wants to tell her not to bother but she's back with a first-aid kit in a beat.

She doesn't invite him in or commands him to do anything, but he drops his bag and slumps down on the stairs all the same. His elbows come to rest on his arms and he exhales deeply. He shouldn't torture himself like this but he can't help but watch her. Follow her every move, take in the way she bites down on her lip as she rummages through the kit.

She seems to have found what she's looking for cause it gets disposed of with a toss on the step beside him before she moves closer. Stepping between his legs as she brings her hands to his face. His heart rate increases the second she tilts his chin, bringing his gaze up and hoping so much to look into hers but Donna firmly keeps hers directed away.

She swallows deeply and tries everything in her power to keep her breathing steady. Her fingertips dance gently over his delicate sting, touching up the wounded area as carefully and slowly as possible. She feels her skin burning under his intense stare but she's too scared, too hurt to truly look at him.

Her touch is gentle and delicate, almost enough to challenge that hopeful side of his brain over his rational one.

Almost.

But the words he fired back at Rachel are still fresh on his mind, and it's the way she avoids looking at him that hurts him the most. She's so incredibly close, yet they've never been further apart and his eyes fill with tears at the sad reality.

"There."

He feels the loss of her touch more than he hears her soft whisper. He blinks back a tear as she steps back and he's quick to get up. Looking anywhere but in her direction now too, he mumbles: "Thank you."

And then he walks away.

.

Hands nervously tapping by her side she paces through the living room, Harvey's words still on repeat in her mind. She's discussed them briefly with Samantha, and what the hell it all means. What the hell she's supposed to do with the information?

On one hand, she feels sad for her friend, cause it's clear in one way or another she's hurt, on the other hand, she feels betrayed - for her roommate, her best friend to lie to her, to everyone like that. There better be a reason and a damn good one at that.

Rachel turns around once more, thinking over how to broach the subject once more because Donna's been distant at best these past couple of days and if she wants any answers she knows she'll likely have one opportunity to ask for them.

Dinner, she thinks to herself then, storming off to the kitchen and turning on the stove. If she can get Donna to sit down with her favourite meal she'll be less likely to run off.

.

The redhead returns home an hour later, the smell of her favourite curry greeting her and her stomach rumbles instantly - a clear sign of how little she's managed to eat this past week.

She hangs her coat, kicks off her boots and tiptoes her way into the living room. Rachel just places the pan on the table and turns to smile at her.

"This smells great."

Rachel nods and watches Donna sit down, she still looks tired but at least her eyes aren't as glassy anymore. The glow the redhead used to sport that made her friend so radiantly beautiful hasn't returned though. She grabs a plate and fills it for her, doing the same for herself before she pours both of them a glass of wine. Settling down on the seat across from Donna.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks then.

"I'm -" Donna swallows in the fine that's on the tip of her tongue. She knows better than to say it to her friend. She sighs then, shrugs and shakes her head, silently indicating that she doesn't know how she is.

"Thank you," the redhead says then. Cause what she does know is that Rachel will always be there for her. "For looking after me. For being such a good friend."

Pressing her lips together in a tight smile, it's all of an answer she's giving. It would've been the perfect opening to return the sentiment or lack there off. But as mad and hurt as she is at Donna's lies, she can feel Donna's hurting more and so she says nothing. Just sits there, talks idle chit chat and waits for her friend to confide but it doesn't come.

.

The following week it becomes clear to everyone in their friend group that things still aren't anywhere near to being normal, in fact, quite the opposite as Donna and Harvey are downright avoiding one another.

Donna hasn't joined them for lunch in over ten days, no matter Sean's effort to drag her to the other side of the campus. The excuses don't even vary any more, she simply states she has no time, too busy with practice.

Sean knows it's a lie though, but he doesn't leave her alone. Instead, he often joins her on stage or in the dressing rooms. Running lines over little food, keeping an eye out on her. Just being there in case she wants to talk about what happened, but she never does.

And while Donna doesn't meet with her friends during the day, it's Harvey who avoids them at night. This week is the second taco Tuesday in a row where his absence is felt, but Donna graces the table and so no one says a thing.

They all share looks though, and by midnight Tuesday night, after Donna has said her goodbyes and left the rest behind at the cafe, it's that the group decides they can't go on like this.

They have to do something, anything.

.

Wednesday, January 16th, 2019

Stalling with only two steps to go to the fifth floor, Donna balances the bowl and glances at her watch once more to check the time. She may not have seen or spoken to him in weeks, but that does not mean she doesn't still know his schedule by heart - the only reason she's going up now is the fact that he shouldn't come home for at least an hour.

She inhales deeply and then takes those final steps to the door. She ignores the doorbell and uses her keys instead, it feels strange but she doesn't want to wake Tanner if he's truly sick.

It's what his text in the group chat said, cancelling the party for his birthday tonight.

Hearing a key turn in the door, Tanner knows it can't be his roommates and there's only one person who would let herself in - Donna.

He quickly places the beer he'd just opened back in the fridge and sprints back to the living room, jumping over the couch he groans as his back hits the broken frame.

Tossing the plaid over him, he pretends to blink as if she's waking him from his sleep. "Hey," he mumbles then, seeing the redhead come to a halt at his feet. "Happy birthday."

She waves briefly and places the bowl of soup on the coffee table as Tanner pushes himself to sit. "No," she stops him, "you need to rest. I uhm… brought you soup."

"I'm not sure that will make me better," he answers, unable to hide his grin. He's heard too many stories about her cooking skills, or rather lack thereof.

She rolls her eyes, shakes her head and realises then he isn't ill at all. Nudging his legs with her knee, she sits down on the edge of the couch as he turns to sit. "Why did you postpone your party to Friday?"

He brings his hand to his mouth and coughs, a futile attempt at not blowing his cover. They both know better. "I'm not feeling so well."

She bobs her head to the side and gives him a look.

"You're avoiding Harvey."

"I'm not." Her rebuttal comes instantly but so does his stern look, matching the one she gave him seconds early. She looks down and then, shrugs lightly. "You didn't have -"

"Two of my best friends can't be in the same room with one another," Tanner cuts her off. "I think that's reason enough."

Donna draws her lips together, pauses for a moment and then apologises.

"Just talk to him."

Her mouth parts automatically, but no words come out. She doesn't remember when it's become her habit to deny or object to any suggestion that involves him, but it's tiring her out regardless.

"Okay," she agrees, it's just a simple word but it feels like a weight is lifted off of her all the same. She smiles softly and pushes herself to stand, pressing a kiss against his cheek as she does so. "You better be better by Friday night then."

He chuckles and smiles up at her. "Then I think it is safest if you take that with you again," he counters, indicating the bowl with a flick of his wrist.

She laughs now, genuinely even if it's at her own expense but a tear rolls from her eyes all the same. She's missed this, laughing.

And she misses the person she used to laugh with even more.

"Rachel made it."

"Ooh," Tanner mumbles, shifting and reaching over to grab it. "In that case."

"Asshole," she says, it's barely above a whisper and it's not like she didn't mean for him to hear it but he snickers all the same before he fills up the spoon once more.

"I should go."

Tanner merely nods, too focused on the food in front of him now. He does call after her when she's almost out of the room, making her stall.

"He's miserable without you, you know."

.

Thursday, January 17th, 2019

He's miserable without you, you know.

You know.

It would be funny if it wasn't so ironic, her most-said words feel so foreign now. Cause the truth is she doesn't know, not anymore and maybe she never truly did.

She likes to think the words are true, not that she likes to think of him being miserable but at least then it wouldn't just be her feeling this way.

It's poetic in a way, they've shared every other emotion before why not share this one too?

But the implications with it stick with her, especially and even to herself it sounds strange, but because it was Tanner saying it.

She'd expected Rachel to do so, Mike as well, but both stayed rather quiet on the subject even if she could read it from the mere looks they shared when they thought she didn't notice that they had a lot to say.

She also knows they know she wouldn't have listened.

Tanner, however, is always around for a good laugh but rarely a serious conversation. So for him to bring it up, it means it's not just one's closest friend trying to say the correct thing, to cheer one up.

It means it might be the truth.

And since it's also the truth that she's miserable without him, the truth might also be they could be happy together.

It's that final thought that she repeats over and over again, taking a deep breath with every step she takes towards the diner - only to come to a standstill in front of the window.

She spots him then, or rather them.

Sitting in their booth.

Harvey and the blonde.

She turns around and walks away.

He doesn't seem miserable without her.

But she is, without him.

.

"So," Evan says, wrapping her hands around the warm cup of coffee in front of her. "Why did you ask to see me?"

"I uhm," Harvey pauses, and shifts slightly on his spot. "I wanted to thank you, for the other night."

Evan frowns at that. "But Harvey. I didn't do anything. I just stood there."

"I know," he replies, giving her a sad smile. "But it was enough."

"Harvey," the psychology student calls for his attention. "What's going on?"

He thinks over his answer for a moment, there's a lot he could say, but it ends up being nothing more than the simple truth. "I'm in love with her."

Evan stares at him for a moment, his answer not that surprising but it takes her off guard all the same. "But you broke up," she mumbles then. "Why?"

"Because she isn't in love with me." It pains him to say it but he has to, keeping it in all this time isn't doing any good, not if he wants to move on from these feelings that plague him so.

Words start to flow from the tip of his tongue without any way for his mind to catch up and stop him. Telling her about the kiss from all those years ago and how she was all over him versus now, having her tell him she didn't feel anything.

"Wait, wait," Evan mumbles, "how come you two only got together now and not back then."

"She didn't remember it was me," he says. "We became friends instead. We were never together," he counters. "Not really."

"I don't understand," she says. "I thought you said you broke up."

He nods, shrugs and then tells the truth. "We were pretending."

"But you weren't," she reasons. "You've been in love with her this entire time."

He chuckles and nods. "Yeah, I guess."

"Wow."

"Yeah," he mutters, taking a deep breath.

"Sorry I'm just.." she shakes her head; trying to wrap her mind around the information presented in front of her. "If you two weren't together, how come you kissed again?"

"A mistletoe at a party."

"Hmmm."

"I didn't expect her to react the way she did," he adds then. "We had some moments, I guess I thought she felt the same, but she said she didn't."

"She told you that in front of everyone?"

"No," he says, with a shake of his head. "She started acting nervous and I called her out on it. Cause she never acts like that. It turned into an argument and she said that it was just acting, she's an arts major you know. So she kissed me again and said that she felt nothing."

"Right."

"Yeah," he sighs heavily. Suddenly it dawns on him how much he's said. "Sorry," he adds then, moving to get out of the booth. "I uhm I didn't mean to unload this all on you. I just -"

"Wanted to thank me."

He bobs his head up and down.

"Harvey," Evan calls out for him before he manages to turn around. He watches her shift, and folds her hands – she's clearly thinking over whatever it is she's going to say. "I can't pretend to know Donna, but what you described to me just now. Is someone finding out about something, getting overwhelmed and not knowing how to handle it." She watches his brows furrow as he takes in her words. "You know what most people do in a situation like that?"

Harvey shakes his head.

"Say or do whatever comes to mind to keep things the way that they used to be."

"What are you saying?"

"Do you think it possible that your kiss made her remember the other one?"

.

Friday, January 18th, 2019

He turns the bottle of beer around in his grasp, picking on the label for the umpteenth time that night. It's the same one he got the moment people started to come over and it's been three hours now. Three hours of nursing the same, now warm and flat, beer, but he keeps it close cause he isn't in the mood to drink neither for questions whether he is or isn't drinking and why.

He leans against the dining table that's shoved into the corner of the room, eyeing the rest of the party from his lonely corner. His gaze lands on the couch, the three girls dancing on it and he shakes his head at the sight. It's a good thing they hadn't replaced it yet after all.

Dragging his gaze across the room in front of him, he sees all his friends happily chatting away and then a bunch of other people who live in the same building. It's as busy as every year before and yet it doesn't feel the same.

He hums, a mere sound leaving his lips at whatever Mike is raving about next to him. He tuned out a few minutes ago and he knows his friend knows. He also knows Mike uses it as an excuse to not leave him alone and he is glad for it.

He gazes to the left once more, his eyes landing on the redhead for the twelfth or thirteenth time that night. In truth, he's stopped counting after the third time her gaze didn't return to meet his, but he keeps looking anyway cause the two times it did happen he felt it in his entire being.

Her gaze has always affected him, but after his talk with Evan the other day, he's taken some time to think over the events of the past couple of weeks. Tried to see them in this new light, and a part - albeit a very small one - thinks there may be truth to her assessment of Donna.

He turns the bottle around again, absentmindedly bringing it up to his lips, he takes a sip only to be reminded once more of how it stopped tasting good hours ago.

She's in the kitchen when she feels his gaze on her again, she can barely even see him through the crowd but she knows he's there. Knows he's watching her and it's comforting in such a cruel way. A glimpse of how things used to be, a notion so familiar she never paid much attention to it, but now, now that she knows his attention should be elsewhere it's on her.

"Hey," a voice comes along. "Donna, right?"

She peers up to her right, breath faltering the second she does as she finds herself eye-to-eye with the blonde girl she's seen Harvey with on New Year's eve and just the other day.

And suddenly it makes sense as to why his gaze is directed at this angle.

Donna downs the remainder of her third class of gluhwein in a big sip. Eyes closing as she feels the warm alcohol burn on her tongue, she takes a moment to force a smile on her lips before she looks at the woman next to her again.

"Yes, I'm Donna," she says then, but it's too difficult to keep her mask from slipping so she refills her glass once more. Absent-mindedly she reaches for another one, lifting the big spoon from the simmering pot of mulled wine. "Do you want one too —" she pauses. "Sorry, I've seen you around, but I didn't catch your name."

"Evan Smith," the girl smiles, nodding to the redhead to indicate she would indeed like a drink. "Yeah, I'm not a law student as everyone else here seems to be."

"I'm not either."

"Right," Evan answers. "Harvey told me."

She doesn't want to show any interest in the mere mention of his name but the drinks she consumed to feed her nerves eliminate the perfected control of her facial expression and an eyebrow raises a tad.

Evan presses her lips into a thin line, accepting the glass. She wants to say she isn't here uninvited, that Harvey told her about the party as they parted the other day. A simple thank you for the advice she gave him.

She eyes the redhead and sees then that her silence alone conveyed the message all the same, but gets registered with completely different reasoning. Her name is on the tip of her tongue when the redhead speaks.

"If you'll excuse me," Donna mutters, before taking a large sip of her drink. A few droplets of red wine fall on her dress as she moves through the crowd.

Mike looks to his right and watches the way Harvey's head turns. No doubt following the redhead in the distance and a small smile forms on his lips at the notion.

Maybe there is no need for the plan after all.

He catches Rachel's gaze from the other side of the room, smiles at his girlfriend and then shrugs and shakes his head. Telling her without words, much like two days before, he isn't sure their interference is for the best.

Rachel nods in understanding and twirls around as Katrina spins next to her on the music. She laughs and continues dancing while at the same time keeping an eye out for her roommate. The latter not truly having joined in on the festivities, much like Harvey in that regard, but they're both here and where it would have been a forgone conclusion a mere month back it's a rare occurrence now.

Mike's certain his friend is aware of Donna's upcoming presence but he nudges Harvey's shoulder with his own anyway, bobbing his head in the direction of the party when Harvey frowns in return.

He turns them, his breath automatically faltering the second his eyes lock with hers again. His chest swells and his the pit in his stomach sinks even further at the same time, but even if he were capable of movement he stays rooted on his spot.

He has half a mind to register that Mike gets up, wishes him luck and then watches him walk away.

She feels Mike's hand land on her shoulder, leaving a gentle but encouraging squeeze before he moves on.

Leaving them alone.

She takes another step ahead and feels her stomach flutter. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her sleeve, suddenly longing very much for the glass she deposited on the mantle sill on her way over here.

"Hi."

It's barely above a whisper, the music playing in the room tuning it out altogether anyway, but he reads it from her lips more than anything else.

Drawing in a deep breath, he places the bottle on the table beside him. "Hey," he greets her in return.

He catches the way she inches even closer and his hands fall on his thighs right after. Fingers curling up, fighting an urge to reach out for her.

She does it for him.

Index finger landing on his bicep, slowly tracing up over his arm until her hand lands on his shoulder.

He freezes on his spot, eyes darting to where she's touching him and he swallows thickly as he feels her fingers dig into his skin. The effect she's having on him after everything is embarrassing and yet he shifts on his spot anyway. Legs parting just a tad, but it's enough for her to step in between them, and he slowly turns to look up at her.

She feels her heartbeat quicken, doesn't know where this sudden confidence is coming from but he isn't turning away from her touch, if anything it's the absolute opposite.

When her thumb slips over the side of his neck in a slow caress, his right-hand settles on her hip. To keep her at a somewhat safe distance or to pull her closer, Harvey isn't sure but not touching her isn't an option.

"Is he your best friend now?" Donna whispers as she trails her hand up to his jaw until her thumb rests on the corner of his mouth.

"No."

She feels the small shake of his head, his breath hot on her skin as he speaks and it's enough for any resemblance of her hesitation to come crumbling down. Her left-hand settles on his shoulder and her right-hand moves to the back of his head, fingers slipping between his hair as she leans down.

His mouth opens willingly, partly in shock, partly in anticipation. Trying to catch one last breath, his tongue slips out to wet his lip as he feels his body angling further into her direction of its own volition, their lips meeting a last.

Mike's hand finds his girlfriend's elbow, nudging her softly. He motions for her to look across the room with a simple nod and then he watches her lips form into a grin.

"Told you," he muses. "No need for your elaborate schemes."

"Fine," she signs, shaking her head as she chuckles softly. She looks at him again then, smiling fully now. She brings her hand to his face and pulls him closer, mumbling: "But it would have worked," in between kisses.

Harvey's free hand moves to her waist as the one on Donna's hip slips over her bottom, squeezing her butt softly, and drawing her closer as her tongue meets his in another searing kiss.

It feels so good and tastes so familiar and yet it's completely different from the three kisses they've shared before. There's an urgency to this one that has them clinging to the other and his mind is clouded by arousal that he only notices it when she moans.

The taste of gluhwein.

His fingertips dig into her hip and using every ounce of rational thinking he has left to pull back and pushes her away, creating some distance between them. His breathing is still heavy when her clouded eyes find him again.

"We shouldn't."

"Why?" She whispers.

Her hands are still in his hair, her touch dangerously torturous now. He inhales deeply, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to find the words. The cinnamon flavour reminds him of that particular night years ago, and he, as well as she, knows what happened next. "You know why."

Her grasp slips a little, hands sliding to rest on his chest as she pulls away. "Is she a better kisser than I am?"

"What?"

"The blonde girl you're always hanging with these days," she whispers, looking down. Her index finger circles the button below his collar.

His eyes widen at her words, he knows exactly who she means and while he'd used her presence to end the farce they'd gotten themselves into. He never in a million years would have thought she would buy into it, that she'd be jealous.

His gaze drops to her lips for a moment, and he swallows thickly. She's so close and he wants her so much, but this isn't the moment for them to cross the line any further than they already did. Willing his attention on her eyes once more, he waits a moment until her gaze lifts from his lips to his eyes as well.

"I wouldn't know," he admits. "She's just a friend."

"I'm just a friend."

"No." He shakes his head at that. "With you… it's different."

She leans back in then, her eyes closing when his hand cups her face, but her lips never meet his. He holds her close and whispers her name and she does the same, but his wasn't a plea for more.

"You're drunk," he says then.

"I want you."

He almost, almost, gives in but he's seen this play out once before and he can't have them cross that line knowing full well the outcome will be the same. "You wouldn't say that if you were sober."

She is the one to pull back now, taking a step back. No doubt a way to display her disagreement with his statement, but he knows it's just that when she trips over her own feet while still being in his grasp. His hands find her waist and he keeps her upright, and if she felt any embarrassment over her behaviour it doesn't show. Instead, she lifts her chin, looks him dead in the eye and says "is that the only reason you're holding back."

He isn't entirely sure it is, but he likes to think so. That if she'd kissed him in the middle of someday and the only thing he'd be able to taste on her lips was a simple cup of coffee with vanilla, yeah he'd have been confused too but at least then he'd have the certainty she's aware of what she's doing.

He nods nevertheless because a drunk Donna is just as big a force to argue with as the sober version and he has enough experience with both of them. "Tell me tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she repeats after him. Her grin is growing even bigger now that an idea comes to mind. "I'll kiss you again, tomorrow."

His lips twitch involuntarily, and a whispered "yeah?" is about to leave his lips when she chuckles, once, twice, each time louder until it's followed by a hiccup and she loses her balance in the aftermath of the shockwave moving through her.

"Okay," he sighs then, pushing himself onto his feet, he towers out above her no as she wobbles on her spot due to his movement. "I think it's time to get you home."