DA's Office - Halloween Special Part B
"Now?"
Harvey chuckles at the talking pile of blankets burrowed into his side. For all Donna's usual bravado, she cowered less than five minutes in, and he glances up from his work, checking to see if the scene in front of the mirror is over. "It's safe," he confirms, dropping his gaze with a smirk.
She peeks at the TV and breathes out, nudging him with her elbow. "You'd be scared too if you were paying attention."
"I'm paying attention," he defends, catching her unimpressed look in his peripheral.
Okay, so he's not.
But he is starting to get tired re-reading the same sentences over and over again, and he huffs a sigh, closing the folder and giving up for the night.
He sinks back, and she smiles, until a loud bang startles her and she jumps, shrinking at the ominous score of music playing.
His palm falls to the back of the couch to make more room, amused at how skittish she is. "You know this isn't real, right?" he teases, drumming his fingers behind her.
"You go say Candyman three times into a mirror and see what happens." She dares him to try, gleaming at the sudden apprehension on his face. "You do believe it."
He stiffens at the absurd suggestion. Obviously, he doesn't, but he knows not to invite trouble in, and is comfortable where he is, trying a different approach. "Are you going to come with me?"
She snorts. "Do I look crazy?"
He motions his head to the TV, fighting a smile. "So you'd rather sit and watch this all by yourself, waiting to see if I come back or get butchered by the—"
"Stop, fine... you win." She slaps his chest, scolding him under her breath. "Sheesh, you're such a lawyer."
Pleased with himself, he drops his hand down to the fortress of blankets she's hiding beneath, attempting to loosen the twinge in his shoulder. When she raises an eyebrow at the move, he shrugs. "Baseball injury."
She focuses on the answer, not how cozy and safe she feels nestled under his arm."You played?"
"In high school. Batting average of 0.385," he boasts, catching her blank expression. She obviously has no idea about the sport and he clarifies for her. "That's good."
"So you were a jock?" she prods, slightly surprised. Not because she assumes he wouldn't have been popular, but because she figures he would have been bored hanging around that sort of crowd.
The description doesn't fit in a traditional sense, and he shakes his head. Sure, he knew everybody, was sought out for gatherings and parties, but he only ever had a couple of close friends. Though rather than dive into his past, he's more interested in what Donna was like, and he beams down at her. "Cheerleader?" he asks hopefully.
"If I'd wanted to be," she teases. Truth is, she spent most of high school trying out clicks, but never really finding her place. Now she doesn't feel the need to apologize for who she is, but she is surprised by how at ease she feels here with him, like curling up on the couch and sharing stories is something they do all the time, and her mouth wraps around a smile as she settles again.
She doesn't reveal any more, falling quiet, and he finds himself enjoying the laid-back lapses of silence as they watch the film. Every so often something will spark a comment but the chats lull between her gripping his arm or diving beneath the covers, until the credits roll and a hint of disappointment flares inside him.
He could stay up with her like this all night, but it's late, and they should really think about getting some sleep. "You can take the bed," he offers, resisting the urge to reach down and smooth the hair tousled beneath his arm. It's better he doesn't encourage the desires starting to stir, and he abandons them with a sigh.
He shifts and her hand falls to his chest to steady herself, groggy and a little disoriented from the movement, but she shakes her head, not wanting to put him out. "I'm fine here." Logically, it makes sense. She's half the size he is, and her lips curve softly. "Besides, your shoulder."
He's not worried about his shoulder, but he is having a harder time detangling himself now he's found her warm and inviting gaze. They joke around, drink and flirt, but this feels like something else. Her wrapped in his clothes, the conversation light and easy—their time together the most natural thing in the world. She made the evening perfect and he swallows, his body demanding he lean in, but he stops himself, pulling away.
"Harvey." She catches his wrist, facing the same internal struggle. They shouldn't blur the lines. She doesn't get involved with men she works with and doing that would be a mistake, but it's Halloween, a night to dare to imagine.
She brushes her fingers along the line of his jaw, turning him towards her, and she reaches up, feathering her lips against his mouth and kissing him slowly—not with enough pressure to start something, but he welcomes the advance, caressing her tongue and butterflies dance in her stomach.
Harvey Specter is an amazing kisser, a realization that makes her giddy as she draws herself back.
He breathes in sharply, too many emotions ricocheting through him to make sense of any single one. Instead, he does something that's becoming ingrained—he looks to her for guidance. "What was that for?"
She smiles, leaning on a simple and uncomplicated answer. "A thank you… for letting me stay."
He could challenge the explanation but he doesn't. Because she's not just some woman staying the night. She's the one person in this world he never wants to hurt, and he relaxes, a small smirk ghosting his lips. "Well, in that case…" He pretends to act clueless. "Can I 'thank you' for inviting yourself over?"
The innuendo floats between them, and she palms his chest, keeping a comfortable amount of distance between them. "Don't push it."
He grins, soaking her in, and it hits him there and then he loves her. Not in a way he can explain or describe, but it's a forever sort of feeling, one he wants to protect.
And the only way he knows how to do that is by keeping the feeling safe and locking it away until he's sure he can handle them being something more.
"Goodnight, Donna…"
His expression softens, and she wants to keep hold of him, but now isn't the right time for either of them, and she tugs the blankets tighter, instead. "Night."
He leaves the room, flicking the light off on his way out, and she sinks down, still tasting him on her lips, and smiling to herself.
Halloween is her favorite day of the year, and this one has definitely set the bar high.
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Happy Halloween!
