DA's Office - Halloween Special Part A

Harvey stares at the visitor standing across the threshold of his doorway, not sure what to make of the unexpected appearance. He bid Donna goodbye in the afternoon, telling her to have a fun evening, and didn't expect to hear from her until Monday. But now she's here, dressed in a skintight Catwoman costume, and his mouth hangs open, at a loss for words.

Donna tugs her arms around her waist with a sheepish smile. "Hey."

"Hi…" he answers, pinching his brows together, trying to keep his gaze up and not let it veer south.

"You said I could call—" She flusters, tipsy and a little unsure of herself. They're friends. They tease each other, help each other out, but she isn't sure they're at the 'turn up close to midnight unannounced' stage, yet.

He did. Anytime she needed anything, and God knows he's bothered her enough outside of working hours, but calling usually involves a phone, and his eyes slip down, realizing she's not holding any belongings. No purse, cell—and nowhere she could possibly be concealing them in the tight leather costume, and a flicker of worry draws his attention back up. "What happened?"

"Someone took my clutch at the party. It had my keys and, well, you were the only person I could think of who doesn't go out on Halloween." She motions to his casual clothes when it dawns on her, even though he's here, she might still be interrupting. He isn't exactly welcoming her in with open arms. "I have a spare set at work, I just need to borrow yours to get in."

"Donna, don't be ridiculous." He catches up, not about to let her go anywhere this late without a phone or cash, and he opens the door wider. "Stay here tonight, we can get them in the morning."

She peers around his shoulder skeptically. "You sure?"

Now his shock has worn off, he softens his expression and smirks. "Looking like that… definitely."

She rolls her eyes. A faint blush covering her cheeks as she moves past him. "I'm borrowing something to wear."

"Shame..." he mumbles to himself as he closes the door, following her around into the open plan living space, waving his hand. "Make yourself at home. I'll go find you some clothes."

He disappears into his bedroom, and her fall over the apartment. The fireplace is on, basking the area in a soft glow. Half a glass of scotch is on the table, surrounded by some files, and crosses over to his collection of spirits, pouring herself a vodka neat.

When he re-emerges with a bundle of clothes, she nods at the stack of papers. "You're working?"

"I'm not out trick or treating," he quips with a shrug. "Bathroom's through there."

He points in the direction he came from, and she sets the glass down on the island in the kitchen. "Don't you want to watch a horror movie or something?"

He grins, hooking up an eyebrow. "I could be persuaded by the or something."

"Never going to happen." She tugs the t-shirt and sweats from his grasp, giving him a nudge. "Go find a scary film."

Sensing there's no point arguing, he takes one last lingering look at the form-fitting costume, cocking his head to the side with a smug smile. "Sure you don't need a hand unzipping?"

She shoots him a glare, and he lifts his palms in cheeky surrender, trailing her sashay as she saunters toward the bedroom. He mentally shakes himself, sweeping the case files up off the table and transferring them into his entertainment area. As a rule, he doesn't watch horror, so he bypasses the DVDs going to his VHS collection where he digs out the movie Candyman. After putting it in the player, he goes back out, rummaging for some snacks in case she's hungry.

He lands the assortment of bowls next to his work, and fetches their drinks, before pulling the top brief from the pile and making himself comfortable on the couch.

When Donna finds him, he glances up at her arrival, doing a double take—and damn. If he thought the Catwoman costume was enticing, he's lost staring as she casually struts in wearing his slacks and Harvard shirt. Her hair is down, face free from make-up, and she looks radiant. More than that, like she belongs in his apartment—something he's never encountered with any woman who's stayed the night, and he quickly clears his throat. "You find everything okay?"

She nods, teasing him with a smile. "You have more products in your bathroom than a teenage girl."

He reaches for the remote, smirking as she drops beside him. "Can't put a price on being handsome."

She snorts, watching him fast forward through the anti-piracy warning, and she curls her legs up, pressing her head into palm. He looks good out of a suit, relaxed, even if he can't leave work behind for one night. When he presses play, her gaze pulls from the file in his lap, landing on the TV screen. "What did you pick?"

"Candyman." He sets down the controller, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "Scary enough for you?"

She rolls her eyes, reaching forward to take a handful of mixed nuts. He didn't have to go to the trouble, but she appreciates he did, and her lips twitch back as she settles in to watch the movie.

…..

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