Mistletoe Tester

"I can't believe you actually wore that."

He grins at her. "It is a themed Christmas party Donna." He points at her own outfit. "I'm following the rules just like everyone else."

"Like you ever play by the rules." She flicks her eyes over the front of his hideous Christmas sweater once more. "You just wore that as a way to makeout with a bunch of people."

He takes a step closer and drops his voice several octaves. "I don't ever need an excuse to get someone to kiss me Donna." A shiver runs down her spine but she refuses to let him know he's affected her, deciding to instead turn the tables on him.

"Well then Mr Mistletoe Tester, don't let me stop you then."

She leans in close, the warmth of his body and the smell of his aftershave floating over her. She sees surprise and a slight touch of panic flash over his face at her proximity, swallowing loudly as his eyes flick to her lips.

"Errr, umm, there's no mistletoe here," he says, sounding suddenly flustered.

She pulls back from him laughing at his sudden nervousness. She wasn't actually going to kiss him, was just teasing him to see what response she'd get. But he's her boss and she doesn't get involved with people she works for. At least that's what she keeps repeating to herself like a mantra in her head, over and over again.

He gets dragged away by Cameron Dennis moments later and the next time she spots him he's found himself some mistletoe and has his tongue down the throat of a blonde paralegal.

She rolls her eyes, not surprised in the least. She's not jealous, she doesn't do jealousy, especially not over someone she doesn't even want to be with. But over the few months they've been working together she's got a few little glimpses of the real Harvey Specter underneath his womaniser persona. She thinks he should be aiming a little higher than slutty Jennifer.

Heading to the bar she grabs another glass of champagne and then joins the huddle of secretaries in the corner, trading gossip and insider information. She doesn't see him again until much later in the evening when she's fallen well past the line of tipsy.

He's leaning against the wall standing by himself when she passes by him, and her shoe skids in a puddle of spilt beer on the floor making her lose her balance.

Suddenly his hands are on her waist, steadying her. He seems to hold on to her for much longer than needed and she tells herself her racing heart is from the shock of nearly falling and not the feel of his hands on her hips.

"Careful now," he says quietly, still not letting her go. She spots it then, hanging high above them. It's likely the alcohol buzzing in her veins that's responsible for what happens next.

"Well would you look at that," she says with a sly grin pointing up at the branch of mistletoe hanging above them. She steps in closer to him, letting her body brush against his as he glances up and then raises his eyes at her.

"You're drunk," he states, but his own voice isn't that steady either.

"So are you."

"But you said never," he murmurs and she can't believe he's still arguing with her.

She runs her hand down his chest, tracing over the words stitched on his sweater. "I can't deny the official mistletoe tester from fulfilling his duties though."

"Donna," he says warily.

"Harvey, are you really going to keep arguing with me or are you going to kiss me?"

He answers her with his lips on hers, surprisingly soft and gentle, and then growing firmer as he parts her lips and slides his tongue into her mouth. His hand tangles in her hair, tilting her face up so he can deepen the kiss further, and even in her somewhat inebriated state she's pleased to discover he's even better at this than she'd imagined.

She kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and grazing her nails down his back, making him groan a little.

She's not sure how long it lasts, how long they lose themselves in the kiss, growing messy and more indecent as time continues. And then without either of them saying anything they part, both seeming to realise they were about to reach the point of no return and neither of them were willing to take that step.

She rubs her lipstick from his mouth and brushes back his hair, and then studies his sweater once more.

"Well I think you've thoroughly fulfilled your duties," she says with a smile. He laughs softly and she thinks it should be awkward but somehow it's not. They both know nothing else is going to happen tonight and that this will be something they never discuss, and that feels exactly how it's meant to be.

He drops her home in a taxi a few hours later, both of them having sobered up somewhat to not make any more dangerous choices.

As she exits the cab she turns back to him with a smirk and tells him he better wear that sweater again next Christmas.

He does.