Hello, remember me? And this fic? This has taken way too long and I'm so sorry. Life's just been busy and inspiration has been a bitch (3 one-shots aside that happened out of the blue), I feel like I've been working on this chapter forever and while it's formatting wise not what I envisioned it to be, I decided it's 1) long enough already and 2) cruel enough to end where it does. So here's a new chapter; it are all flashbacks. There will be lots of parallels to come, so yes there's a purpose to the backstory, but for now, I hope it gives some insight into their relationship and why they stand where they stand in present time. Enjoy, and let me know your thoughts in a review. They're always a big inspiration.
x - M
MISTLETOE MYSTERY
PART IV
January 15th, 2015
She clears the table, stashing the empty glasses on her tray and makes her way over to the next seat. She steals a look at her colleague down the other end of the bar. The student, just like her, finishing up for the night and when the younger woman looks at her too, she signals that she'll finish the last table.
"Thanks, Wheeler," the redhead smiles when the blonde meets her behind the counter. They work side by side on cleaning the glasses and the countertop; a towel tossed back and forth whenever the other needs it.
"Hey," Samantha calls after the freshman student, she waits for her to turn around and face her again. "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?"
Donna frowns a bit, it's not uncommon for the blonde to talk about what's buzzing on campus, she'd never extended an invitation though, but she did have plans. With Stephen. A nod follows, and she shrugs apologetically. "Why?" she can't help but ask.
"There's this party in my apartment building," Samantha explains. "Birthday from some guy three floors up, but they always invite the entire building, hence."
Donna smiles and thinks over her friend's words. "Sounds fun, but I am going away for the weekend."
The blonde laughs and shakes her head; she could have known. Nine out of ten times she asked, the redhead had plans. "Your loss."
.
.
January 18th, 2015
She runs a hand through her hair that Monday evening, a tired sigh escaping her lips and she drops her forehead onto her folded arms on the bar.
Samantha glances at Donna, a hand landing on the redhead's back in support. "Was your weekend that bad," she teases when she moves along, pulling the fridge open and reaching inside for two drinks, sliding one over the bar to her friend. "Told you, you should have come to the party. It's a shame you couldn't make it."
Donna bites down on her lip, hand falling around the cold bottle and she brings it to her lips for a refreshing sip. She knows Samantha is just teasing her; she can't help but play along. "Miss Wheeler, are you flirting with me?"
Samantha laughs, wholeheartedly. They both know their banter is harmless.
"What if I was?"
"I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate it," Donna counters in a beat.
The blonde nods in silence, she takes a sip of her drink, and she grins then. "I think she'd understand," she counters, signalling the redhead with a bob of her head. She laughs, recalling a memory from the weekend. "Her ex was there too, and he was so drunk he made a complete fool out of himself trying to hit on me. God, what's his name, Ha… Harold? Harvey," she finishes chuckling again. "Anyway, you should have been there."
Donna smiles softly and glances down. Taking in the compliment, she realises then she doesn't know much of her colleague's personal life. A lot of information just shared; she focuses on the important one. "How did you meet her?"
Samantha stalls for a moment to take a deep breath and then sits down too. "Pride party at orientation week last May," she explains, "and well we had a night."
"But?" Donna asks, sensing there's more to the story.
"Woke up the next morning and she was gone, didn't have her number and tried to forget about it, but she happened to have a summer internship at my dad's firm." she pauses for a moment. "It was an awkward first day, but by the end of the week we picked up where we left off, and it's been eight months since."
"Wow," the redhead breathes out. "That's -"
"I know it sounds fake when you put it all together, but-"
"No," Donna interrupts her soon. "I think it was just meant to be. Romantic too," she adds, sipping from her bottle once more. "That makes the way I met my boyfriend sound super boring."
Samantha laughs, tilts her head to the side and silently asks for an explanation.
"We're roommates," Donna shrugs.
"Does he study theatre too?"
The redhead shakes her head. "No, Stephen is actually a law student like you," she explains. "But my apartment building isn't one of those fancy exclusive ones you know."
"Like mine."
"Ooh," Donna bites down on her lip, plays with the label of her bottle. She swivels over her barstool, not sure what to say.
"It's not exactly exclusive," Samantha reasons, "it just happens to be mostly law students. Which is both fun and annoying at the same time, to be honest."
"Does your girlfriend live there too?"
"Dana, no," Samantha answers, "she does study law, but she's a first-year as my baby sister."
"I'm not a baby."
Both waitresses' heads turn in the direction of another voice echoing through the room. Donna's eyes roam over the two young women making their way over.
"Speaking of the devils," Samantha answers with a grin. She pushes herself onto her toes, leaning over the bar when the petite brunette does the same, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.
"Hey, babe."
Samantha smiles at her girlfriend's greeting, nods at her sister and then turns to Donna again. "I was just talking about the two of you. Donna, this is Dana, my girlfriend. And this is Rachel, my baby sister."
"Hi," both girls shake the redhead's hand.
It's Rachel who ends up chatting along with her as they finish up. The four of them walking out of the bar about half an hour later. Greetings exchanged once more; it's a joke Rachel makes about her sister that has Donna laugh.
"You're weird," she tells her. "We'll be friends."
.
.
November 16th, 2015
She sniffs, eyes cast down, and her forehead leans against the doorframe as her knuckles hit the wooden door once more just below the three brass numbers. She exhales again, patiently waiting for her friend to answer the door, and even though she came here to talk the second the brass 206 moves away from her and the brunette comes into sight, she straightens herself up. A quick wipe over her eyes with the back of her hand, she forces a fake smile on her lips and tells herself she's okay.
Rachel knows she isn't though, but she doesn't call the redhead out on it yet. Silently steps aside and holds the door open for Donna to enter the apartment. The look on her friend's face enough for her to suspect the reason it's there, she also knows the redhead won't willingly share the news she did come to talk about. So she fixes her a cup of tea and guides her to the couch.
"Thanks, Rach," Donna whispers, holding the ceramic mug in both of her hands, she blows over the steaming content and takes a sip. Soaking at the moment, she knows she'll have to explain her presence soon, but she isn't ready for it yet.
.
Samantha opens the second drawer of her desk, removes the first stack of paper from it and places it in the cardboard box. She thoughtlessly repeats the motion another two times but halts when a picture slips out of the files and darts to the ground. The sight of it startles her, and she stares at it for a moment, eventually bending down to pick it back up.
The picture was only taken two months ago; the present couldn't be further from what the piece of paper depicts. Her blue eyes are shining brightly, the grin plastered on Samantha's face a rarity these days and the woman right next to her someone she hasn't spoken to in weeks.
Her fingers slip from the bottom edge over Dana's face for the briefest of seconds, reminiscing the past she expels a deep breath. Her eyes close for a moment, and she wills them open again with a renewed determination. She pulls her left hand back then, in full force and she rips the picture in half. Separating the two of them, just like they are in reality. It's not easy, but it's for the best.
She tosses both parts in the bin, a metaphorical weight lifting off her shoulders as she does so and she removes the last stack of papers from the drawer, placing that into the cardboard box as well. She lifts it and carries it to the living room.
.
Harvey rushes his way down the stairs, following in Mike's footsteps until he surpasses the younger man. He stalls at the landing on the second floor, glancing back to see his roommate make his way over to apartment 206 and he rolls his eyes then.
His friend has not been the same since he started dating their classmate over the summer break. He misses his wingman, not that he needs it. But the nights the three roommates claimed the bars as theirs are just with Tanner and him now.
"Have fun with your girlfriend."
Mike rolls his eyes at the sneer, merely brings his hand up to the door and rings the bell. "Have fun with yourself," he counters, making a jack-off motion with his hand.
Harvey shakes his head but doesn't comment. Instead, he rounds the landing and continues his way down the stairs to go out.
.
"Paulsen," Samantha quickly greets Donna when she carries another box from her room to the dining room table, placing it next to another.
"Wheeler?" Her greeting sounds more like a surprise and it sort of it, to the redhead at least. Even though she knew Samantha before Rachel and hung out with her after the blonde quit her job, there hasn't been much contact. Samantha almost always having been out when she came over. She spots the boxes then, a frown settling on her face. "What are you-"
"She's moving out," Rachel fills in on her sister's behalf, as she makes her way over to the door. "Dad got Sam a place on the other side of town."
Donna's mouth opens and closes, not sure what to say.
"It's closer to the firm," Samantha explains, "the travelling back and forth just
took too much time."
Donna nods then, in understanding, but she's still sorry to see her go. "Robert must be happy you'll be working for him."
Samantha chuckles and shakes her head. "I'm working on my master thesis at Bratton and Gould," she answers, shrugging when she notices the redhead frowned. "Rach once had a huge blowout with dad, telling him she wanted to make it on herself first before following into his footsteps, she is right about that."
.
"Hey."
"Mike," she greets her boyfriend with a bright smile, she momentarily contemplates about inviting him in, but she doesn't get the chance to do so when he steps forward and kisses her.
She answers his kiss, it's loving but quick, and the palms of her hands find his chest mere seconds later. Gently pushing him away, she creates a little bit of distance between them.
His brows knit together and he questions her actions, but before he can ask he overhears the two voices coming from the living room. "Ooh I get it, I can't come in cause Samantha's girlfriend is over."
The brunette chuckles and shakes her head, she grabs his arm then and guides him inside. "Mike, this is my friend Donna," she signals the redhead. "Donna, this is Mike. My boyfriend."
"Ooh you're Stephen's girlfriend," he answers in a beat, now remembering how the international student had talked about a redhead from time to time.
Donna presses her lips together in a thin smile, she doesn't answer but nods nonetheless. She takes his hand then, shaking it once before letting go.
Rachel watches the little exchange between the two of them, the look on her friend's face not going unnoticed. It's the same one she saw when she opened the door earlier that afternoon, but this isn't the time to confront the redhead about it. She does, however, slap Mike's arm, a playful way of scolding him for his question.
He looks up at his girlfriend and back to the redhead, not entirely sure what was wrong, but he figures it's the way he phrased it. "Only good things, I assure you."
The redhead grins then she likes the way he covered for himself, and any other day she'd have told him that is, of course, the only thing that could be heard about her. Instead, she throws his comment back at him. "That's funny; I only heard bad things about you."
It's Samantha who laughs now, and Rachel merely rolls her eyes as Mike glances back and forth between the two women.
"She's joking," Rachel fills in, her hand finding his arm again, she walks him back to the door. Pausing there she reels him in for another soft kiss. "Rain check?"
"Sure," he answers, pulling her in one last time. "See you tomorrow."
The brunette smiles softly, waits in the door opening until he's out of her sight before she returns to the living room. She drops herself down on the couch next to her friend.
"You didn't have to send him away because of me, you know."
Rachel wants to protest but doesn't exactly know what to say to that. She shrugs and reaches for her cup of tea, the beverage now lukewarm, but she drinks it anyway. "He'll be fine, probably going out for drinks with Harvey now."
Donna bobs her head to the side, a silent question as she's can't remember having heard that name before. Then again, she had just met Mike for the first time after months of being friends with the brunette.
"Second-year law student as well," Rachel explains, placing her empty mug back on the coffee table, she shifts over the couch and pulls a leg up, hugging it tightly to her chest. "But, that doesn't matter," she starts. "What does, though, is why you showed up here out of the blue. And that look I saw on your face not once, but twice now."
Donna inhales deeply, glances away and bites down on her lip.
"It's Stephen, isn't it?"
The redhead nods then, finally turning to look at Rachel again. "We broke up." She catches Rachel's gaze change, thinks she spots a hint of pity, and she shifts over the couch, out of the brunette's reach. Covering up the movement by placing her mug down too. "That's not- that was a week ago, and since then he's been making my life a living hell. Telling me he's going to get me kicked out; I don't know how long I'll be able to live there anymore."
"Move in with me."
"What?"
The smile Rachel sports shows that she knows the redhead heard her, she repeats it anyway. "Move in with me."
"But Samantha -"
"I haven't even moved out yet, and you've already replaced me," Samantha mocks her sister when she happens to overhear the last part of the conversation.
"Samantha, I-" Donna starts, but she stops when the senior holds up her hand.
"Do it," Samantha encourages her old colleague. "I'll be leaving in two weeks anyway. You need a place to stay, and I need someone to look after her," she finishes bobbing her head to the brunette.
Donna turns to look at Rachel. "You don't want to ask Mike?"
She shakes her head. "He lives three floors up, and if things turn out okay well have plenty of time for that later."
Donna chuckles and nods then. "Okay."
"Okay."
.
.
December 21st, 2015
She has been studying for days, even on a Friday evening she's sitting in the library. Anything to be at the top of her class. She sighs, turns another page of her book and goes over the notes again. Highlighting some key points, she makes another three flashcards and decides to call it a night then. The texts from her classmates asking her to come to the bar too enticing at this point.
She gathers her stuff, swings the handle of the black leather backpack over her shoulder and makes her way through the rows of books to the centre. It's there when she spots her, the blonde, soon to be an official lawyer, her ex-girlfriend.
Samantha Wheeler.
She hesitates for a moment, wondering if she should stop by and say hello. They have been amicable to one another after the breakup, the reason for it being timing: the blonde a graduate, the brunette only a second-year.
That's also why it hurts so much when she sees the redhead with her. Her hand on Samantha's lower arm, smile too bright and eyes too focused on her ex.
She sighs, looks down and decides on another route out of the library, avoiding Samantha Wheeler and Allison Holt in the process. She reaches for her phone then, spots the text once more and wonders if her other ex might be with them — their deal a welcome distraction over the last two months.
I'll be there soon, leaving the library now. - Dana
.
She comes back from the bathroom, her gaze automatically searching for the group she had been with the better part of the night. She notices Rachel and Mike getting up and making their way around the group. No doubt to say their goodbyes, she doesn't wait for them to stop by her instead she looks around once more for him.
She spots him then, alone, sitting at the bar almost on the far right side. A small smile tugs on her lips at that, she grins at herself and takes a deep breath. It's not one hundred per cent what they once agreed upon, but she recognises the tell from a mile away anyway. She would be lying if she said it hadn't crossed her mind since the moment she arrived.
She redirects her gaze once more, glances down at her outfit and adjusts her top just so. She knows what he likes, and she isn't ashamed to use it in her advantage, to get what she needs. Dana rounds the half-wall separating the wardrobe from the rest of the bar, she nods at Rachel and Mike once on her way past them. Then she makes her way to the back of the bar, like many times before.
"Har-vey."
The sing-song way his name is pronounced familiar, and it snaps him out of his daze. He places his barely touched bottle of beer back on the bar and swivels on his barstool.
The flashes of red hair he envisioned disappearing, merely a memory of a moment so short ago it can barely be just that, but they are, and as he turns to face her they make place for a brown curly bob and dark piercing eyes to match.
"Scottie."
The smile she had been sporting slowly fades away. The severe tone of Harvey's voice tells her tonight isn't like all the times before. She can't help but try, though. Her eyes searching his, she tilts her head and leans forward just enough to make use of the button she popped off her blouse as she slides onto the barstool next to him. Her knee hits his thigh and her left-hand lands next to his on the counter. "What do you say?"
His fingers flex over the wooden surface, his jaw sets and he searches for an answer. Her proposition not uncommon and if it hadn't been for the events earlier that night at the Weihnachtsmarkt, he might have given in. The way his eyes close is a way of his mind to correcting himself. The truth is; he hasn't been the same since the beginning of the month.
She takes in his silence and shakes her head, then laughs once to herself. She could have known, and she ticks the glass bottle next to his hand then. "I know this isn't the usual drink but-"
"Dana," he sighs, glancing at her once more. "I-"
She can see it in the look on his face but what gives it away is him using her actual name. "What's her name?"
His head bobs up in surprise, and he frowns at her. "What?"
The brunette purses her lips and narrows her gaze in on him. Then she repeats her question. "What's her name?"
Harvey scoffs now, fakes offence and maybe he is. He grabs the bottle of beer now, looking away from her as he takes a big chug.
She rolls her eyes in annoyance, moments like these reminding her of why it never worked out between them. Not the first time, definitely not the second, but he now even managed to take the fun out of their arrangement. Sex aside, she does care for him, and she pushes him again. "What's her name?"
The sigh that follows is long, and she knows she's put a dent into whatever mood he was in with her presence. She also realises it was just that, a dent, when she notices the small smile for the third time after the question, only proving her right.
"I don't know what you're talking -"
"That," she interrupts him, pink-painted nail pointing at his face. "That look right there when I asked about her name," she continues, studying his reaction, but the hint of panic in his eyes tells her she has him. "That's how you once looked at me."
He tears his gaze away, for all their differences and arguments over the years she did have the ability to see through him. He lifts the bottle of beer again, downing the remainder in one go, the glass hitting the surface with a soft thud as he pushes himself to stand.
He remembers the time they dated back in high school, the numerous of hookups they've had during college since and he knows he's anything but an expert in the field, but Harvey does know he has never looked at her the way he thinks he looks at the redhead that kissed him earlier that night.
He doesn't acknowledge her questions with an answer, answers he doesn't dare to think about. Doesn't allow himself to wonder about, but he also doesn't want to hurt her any more than he already has, so instead, he walks away.
.
.
January 8th, 2016
Donna opens up a cabinet, pushes herself to stand on her toes and tries to reach for Brody, the honey bear from the top shelf. Twisting the cap, she pours a little of the golden content in the bowl with the rest of the spices. Mixing the marinade, she whisks the spoon around, before tapping the excess content off.
Making dinner for one has never been something she enjoyed doing, and in the month she's lived here this is the first time she has to do so. All others, which were just a handful because of the two week holiday period, spend with Rachel and on occasion Mike, but tonight she is by herself.
It isn't the being alone part she finds hard; it's the cooking part because for the many talents she does poses, cooking isn't one of them. That's also why she ended up in the kitchen so late this evening, prepping alone having taken hours and when midnight comes around hunger and tiredness are a challenging combination, but she's stubborn and doesn't go down without a fight.
Deep down she knows it's just a matter of time though and when she does indeed reach for the pan, the handle too hot to hold because of the gas stove. It drops as fast from her hand as she reached for it.
"Fuck." The exclamation loud, but doesn't come with another shriek of pain, she flicks her hand in the air and turns off the gas with her other. She leaves the pan to be, bringing her burnt hand under a lukewarm stream of water.
Teeth clenching together as she winces in pain, Donna's tear-filled eyes examine the palm of her hand. It's a bit red, but there are no blisters, and she knows she got off lucky. It still hurts like hell.
She twists on her spot, keeping her hand under the stream of water and she reaches for a kitchen towel with the other. Bringing that under the flow as well, she wets the fabric and wrings it out as best as possible after. Closing the tab, she wraps the cold towel around her hand and clips it together with a clothing pin.
She lifts the pan at last then, placing it in the empty sink. Half of the ingredients for the dish she was preparing never making it out of the fridge, her appetite gone now.
Donna makes a beeline for the bathroom, scouring through the cabinet above the sink for something to put on her burn she comes up empty-handed. She forgoes searching her cabinets , too much still packed in boxes; Donna also knows she doesn't have it. And thus she sneaks into Rachel's room, but she can't find anything there either.
Rushing back to the living room, she grabs a cardigan and pulls it over her shoulders. She lifts her keys from the bowl on the cabinet and gets outside. She rushes to the first door on her left, apartment 204. Her hand mid-air when she changes her mind and remembers the odd hour it is, and how she doesn't exactly know her neighbours yet.
She pulls her hand back and purses her lips in contemplation, pacing back and forth she ends up near the staircase, she looks up then. Remembering that Mike lives three floors up and Rachel is with him at the moment, if anyone is willing to help her it's them.
She begins the climb, hesitating a bit, but when she remembers a picture of the happy couple that hangs on the wall in her living room, she knows it's the right decision — the photograph in question including an Aloe Vera plant in the background.
"Yes," she whispers to herself, tapping against the railing as she reaches the fourth floor. She's got no clue if the plant is still alive, but she's willing to bet Rachel is the one to water it every week and thus the odds are in her favour.
.
He pries one eye open at the strange sound, turns around and eyes the clock on his wall. A groan leaving his lips as he pushes the sheets aside and gets himself to stand. Running a hand over his face and through his hair, he tries to suppress a yawn but fails as he makes his way towards the knocking noise.
Glancing over his shoulder once, he throws a look to the closed door of Mike's room. It's much closer to the front door of their apartment but the laughter coming from it indicating they didn't hear or didn't care about the intruder. He hopes for Tanner's sake that it isn't his fellow law student's drunk ass in front of the door. An angry "What?!" on the tip of his tongue as he opens the door, he never gets to say it when the red locks come in to view.
"Alo-." She trips over the words she'd been wanting to say, blurting out the one thing she was looking for and this wasn't that. Her breathing falters, and her eyes skim over the sight in front of her — Harvey merely dressed in a pair of sweatpants. The view surprises her, and she has to shake her head for a moment to gather her thoughts, a greeting eventually leaving her lips.
"Hey."
He can't help but notice how his heart skips a beat at her sudden presence; he hadn't seen her since she crushed his hopes a few days back and yet here she was knocking on his door. His eyes roam over her delicate frame, a greeting forgotten when he spots her hand.
"Let me look at that," his words aren't a question, but it is inquiring in nature, one that gets backed up by a stretched arm and his hand falling around her elbow.
It's his touch that surprises her, wakes her from her thoughts, and she pulls back. Remembering what or rather who she was looking for. "I uh- I'm looking for Rachel."
He presses his lips together in a tin line, balls his hand into a fist and nods in understanding. He steps to the side then, signals the door to Mike's room but warns her before she gets two steps inside. "Be my guest, but I'm not sure you want to see whatever it is that's going on in there."
She laughs, shakes her head, and she doesn't want him to be right, but he is. She nods then, turning to face him again and that's when she connects some dots. The way he is dressed, or more like the lack thereof. His comment about the couple's activities, it could only mean one thing. He, himself, was in a similar situation.
"Ooh," she mutters then, glancing around but not knowing where to look. Her eyes find Harvey's bare chest once more, she glances down at her hand. "I'll manage."
Her words surprise him; they're the opposite of what her presence tells him. "Donna," he hears himself objecting.
Her eyes flicker back up to meet his when she hears her name; she hadn't expected him to remember it. Their conversation a few days back unique but brief, and yet it shakes her. "I'm fine, I should go," she reasons then, turning around on her spot, she signals his lack of apparel with her hand. "You probably have a girl waiting in your bed for you to get back to anyway."
He doesn't know what to make of her remark, but he can't help but chuckle at it either. "I don't," he answers truthfully.
"Right."
He shakes his head at her mocking tone and bites down on his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling, can't place why they're having this conversation after what she told him and yet he feels the need to prove her wrong about his reputation. "I'm serious."
She eyes him suspiciously, head tilting down to the right when she tries to make up her mind. She has heard the stories. "I know your reputation, mister."
And there it was, the words that killed any last chance he hoped he still had. He swallows once, eyes falling shut for the briefest of seconds. Deep down, he knows there's no point and yet he tries to reason with her. "Paulsen."
"Specter," she parrots his surname in the same tone as he used on hers. Her eyes locked with his, one look that challenges his words, she finds nothing but the truth in them and yet something inside of her doesn't want to believe it.
She catches the sigh that leaves his lips now, she doesn't miss the glance either, and a part of her sees it as an invitation for her to find out. Her rationale telling her it's him checking that whoever is there stays put.
It would be smart if she left if she never finds out whether or not he was telling the truth, but there's something about him. The way he acts and talks to her that is so different from how Rachel and all other girls described him to be that makes her move.
It is twelve steps from the front door to the one slightly opened bedroom door and with each step, her heartbeat increases. The control freak inside of her is ready to prove him wrong, and she expects Harvey to stop her any second now. But when her left-hand finds the wooden surface and slowly pushes it aside, she feels her stomach flip.
"Told you."
His voice is soft and so close to her ear that a shiver runs down her spine, making the hairs on her arms stand up. The surprise it comes with makes her take another step forward.
He watches her move and grins then at the memory of her own words. His shoulder finds the door frame, and he leans against it, arms crossed in front of his chest. He takes a second before teasing her. "There's a girl in my bedroom now."
She rolls her eyes, and she wills herself not to smile. It's so predictable, and yet, she shakes her head then. Doing that on purpose as she turns to face him cause she doesn't want to show him he amused her.
He spots what she's doing but stops her movement by placing his hands on her shoulders. The touch more deliberate this time and he puts a bit of pressure on her frame to guide her to his bed. He notices a hint of hesitation and let's go just before they get there. "Sit down, and let me look at that."
She's not one to follow orders; usually, the one that is bossing everyone around but she does as told. She holds her burned hand in her good one, sits down on the edge of his bed, shifting a little as she takes in her surroundings. A painting catching her eye, she doesn't get to focus on it as she watches him leave and return a few seconds later with a first-aid kit.
The box is placed just behind her when he sits down on her right side.
He doesn't have to ask to see her hand this time around, her hand already lifted and shifting towards him he turns it gently and holds it in his. His eyes are searching hers as his fingers near the knot she tied into the towel, and only after her nod, does he undo it.
She watches him slowly unwrap the towel from her hand and in doing so, undoing all the prejudices she had about him. The man in front of her matching that of the one from her assessment; and suddenly it doesn't surprise her anymore why she told him about that one night from a few weeks back.
A soft stroke of his thumb over the back of her hand and the goosebumps that spread over her arm because of it are what wakes her from her thoughts. Her gaze slowly lifts, and she inspects the face of the man next to her.
He doesn't look at her, his gaze directed at her hand. She doesn't pay attention to the way he takes care of her burn as her focus is on the look of determination she reads on his face.
He removes the cloth he had used to cool her hand, dabbing the damaged surface gently before he reaches for a bandage from the first aid kit behind him.
That has her look down again, her gaze fixated on the movement of his hand. Wrapping the bandage around it, once, then twice until he tapes the end down on the part around her wrist.
He runs his thumb over the edge of the tape, securing it and the movement is repeated once more. He should say he's done, that this is all but the words don't leave his lips. So instead of telling her to go, or letting go himself, he brings back their earlier conversation.
"What would you have done if you had walked into someone here?"
His question takes her by surprise and a chuckle escapes her lips as she visualises the situation. She knows deep down he wouldn't have let her pass if that were the case. Another idea crosses her mind then, and she tosses it right back at him. "I'd have put up a show," she counters, a smirk spreading across her lips. "Pretend to be the girlfriend you cheated on."
He didn't know what he was expecting, but this wasn't it, and he swallows thickly. He might be a playboy, but that is something he would never do. He makes sure she doesn't see his actual reaction, though. As much as she sparks his interest and as easy as it is to talk to her; this part of him too much to share. Thus he kicks the teasing up a notch, his hand softly squeezing the one that was still placed on his. "You sure it would be just for show?"
His touch sends another jolt down her frame, she redirects her gaze as quickly as possible and pulls her hand back then. "I'm sure," she fires back in a beat, and she pushes herself to stand as she speaks.
She isn't sure if it was to emphasise her words or because the effect he has on her keeps taking her by surprise, but it's probably both. She nods then, once, at him. A soft smile given with it. "Thank you."
.
.
January 15th, 2016
Sixpack of beer in hand she climbs the three flights of stairs. Her fingertips play with the cardboard wrapping, it's a shitty gift and that isn't her, but what is she supposed to give a guy she has never met?
She knows his name, she knows he studies law and she knows from stories that everyone in the building is always invited, so it wasn't that weird for Rachel to extend the invitation on behalf of Mike, who did so because of Tanner.
She stalls just before the apartment, unlike a week ago the door is open. Music is playing and the party is clearly buzzing. She glances inside, looking for the birthday boy or anyone she might know.
Rachel, Dana, Mike, Harvey.
If she has to be honest with herself, the doubly extended invitation and a night with her friends isn't the only reason she finds herself stepping into the crowd.
A part, a big part, of it is curiosity. If this party truly attracts everyone that lives in the building, it means the one person she had been looking for the past month should be there as well.
She steps aside to let a drunk guy pass, another that's running after him, and she dodges a paper cup flying through the air by just an inch. The party is wild, but precisely as expected.
.
He hums and nods at the brunette in front of him. Pretending to still listen to her story, but the second he had spotted the familiar auburn locks his attention had been elsewhere.
His gaze follows her from afar, the way she moves through the crowd. He catches a glance at her face, the look on it telling him she was about to leave again.
"I'm sorry, Scottie," he cuts off his ex-girlfriend in the middle of her sentence. One hand lifted in the air; he points in a random direction signalling he has to go.
.
Donna turns around again, a hefty sigh escaping her lips. The apartment crowded to the brim, and yet the only familiar faces she had seen were too busy with one another.
She doesn't blame the happy couple, usually is fine on her own and can strike a conversation with anyone. It does, however, sting that even amid every single tenant she still can't find the guy she kissed on the Weihnachtsmarkt. Not one face in the crowd that rings a bell.
"Don't go."
She jumps a little on her spot, his familiar voice taking her by surprise. She eventually turns to face Harvey, a questioning smile on her face and a silent question asked in the way she bobs her head to the side.
"You looked like you wanted to leave," he explains, taking another step towards her. He offers her one of the beer bottles he snatched out of the fridge on his way over to her.
She glances down from his face to the bottle in his hand, she bites down on her lip and looks back up at him again. "I'm not," she reassures him, accepting the cold glass bottle from his hand.
"Good."
She sees him grin then; it's nothing like the smiles she has seen before, this one reminding her of a Cheshire Cat. She chuckles softly, lets the neck of her bottle cling against his in a silent toast on the birthday boy — both taking a sip after it. The conversation flows smoothly after that.
One drink follows another, and if other people had been dancing,they might have joined them. Instead, the pair found themselves a quieter spot on the couch.
It's her who takes over the controller from Harold, challenging Harvey into a battle on the PlayStation. He throws her a line about how he has a better and bigger one nearby. She says he has to beat her first.
.
"I have to go."
His brows knit together and he glances at her, saw her lips move, but the music is too loud now. "What?"
She sees a look of confusion on his face, and she isn't entirely sure is it's sincere or if he's pretending he can't hear her. But the music is loud, and she read his reaction of his lips more than she heard it herself. She moves closer, a hand falling on his shoulder and she pushes herself onto her toes, bringing her face closer to his.
He tenses the second her hand finds his frame, her hair tickling his cheek and he can't help it when her lips are close to his ear, his hand finds her waist so quickly.
"I have to go."
His grip on her increases so fast it's almost a second nature, the gesture made before he can even find the words.
"Why?"
Her eyes close involuntarily, his breath hot against her neck and his scent overwhelming from this close by. She has to think about his question now, fight her thoughts because even if she wants to, she really can't stay. "I have rehearsal tomorrow morning."
He already knew that, but it's the way her body is pressed against his, the slow way her hand slips from his shoulder to his bicep without letting go, that makes him wonder if she's giving him an opportunity to make her stay.
I
t's the look in her eyes when she's face to face with him again that tells him it is, the apologetic smile on her lips, however, confirming and emphasising her words.
He bobs his head up and down then, a silent agreement to something that wasn't his to agree on, but he shifts on his place and hooks his arm around hers.
He catches her surprised look, grins brightly as he starts to walk. It's only when they're on the landing near the stairs that he explains. "Making sure you get home safely."
She feels a blush creep up on her face, but she laughs it off. Head falling back and her loose auburn locks falling in front of her face as she does so. She flashes him a curious look that tells him what they both know. She lives three floors down.
He doesn't let go though; they're already halfway down the second flight of stairs now. "I know how much you had to drink tonight and given your record, the chances of you showing up at my door hurt again tonight are big."
His answer catches her by surprise, more than she expected. Even though his response was far from what she thought he would say, suddenly she feels a warmth spreading around her and a part of her wants to ask if he didn't want her to show up at his door then, but she doesn't.
So she rolls her eyes, shakes her head and flashes him a smile that even after two weeks had become just for him. "You're ridiculous."
He bites down on his lip, increases the grasp on her arm as they near the landing in front of her apartment. "And you're a safety hazard."
She exhales slowly, turning around as much as his arm around hers allows her to do so and she stalls in front of her door. It just about misses the dangling key from her hand.
"Har-vey."
"Donna," he parrots her name in the same tone, his eyes searching hers and he can't help it, but his gaze slips to her lips and he finds himself licking his own.
She catches the way he looks at her and she can't say she isn't tempted. She can't say she isn't drawn to him, cause a part of her is but at the same time she can't place why. If it's her search for the mystery person that's transferring her feelings on to him or if it's more. She tells herself it's the former, Rachel's words not forgotten. It isn't him, and thus she shakes her head.
The movement is subtle, almost hesitant but he catches it anyway. He presses his lips together in a thin line and nods, hides the hint of disappointment he feels, but he realises he should have known better. "I know," he tells her, "the rule."
"Yeah," she whispers, looking at him one more time before she brings her key to the door. "The rule."
He waits for her to enter her apartment, his gaze fixated on her till the second she is out of his sight. The sound of the door falling shut wakes him from his daze and he exhales then, deeply. Suddenly hyper-aware of the situation, his surroundings, he takes a step back and glances to the stairs. Looking back and forth to make sure no one had seen the interaction and the failure he doesn't consider to be one.
The steps are heavier now, going back up alone but he increases the pace with each and every one of them. Rushing his way back to the party, to submerge himself in another atmosphere, another mood. He grabs himself another beer, chucks half of it away in record time and then decides he really doesn't feel like partying anymore.
.
She lowers herself down from standing on the tip of her toes, pats her hands down the skirt of her dress and purses her lips. Shifting on her spot ever so slightly, she leans against the doorframe and counts the five seconds it will take for him to run into her.
"Harvey."
He snaps out of his thoughts, his gaze immediately falling on his ex-girlfriend. He bobs his head to the side, lets his brows draw together, and he doesn't even try to hide how he isn't the mood as he forgoes any greeting but goes straight to the point. "It's not going to happen."
Dana chuckles, not because she figures she could change his mind but because it only proves what she expected weeks ago and put together this particular evening. She just hadn't realised she knew the girl all along. Dana shifts her weight to her other leg, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She isn't going to let him pass without getting the truth out of him.
"Because of Donna?"
She knows she's got him in the split second his expression changes, it eventually settling in a look that says nothing at all. Much like she predicted it would, he was never the one to truly share his feelings with her, but it's enough for her to understand.
"I can't blame you, you know," she muses then. "She's hot."
He watches the grin spread over her face, the sparkle in her eyes that comes along with it and he should know better than to fall for her traps, but even if he draws in a breath and tries his best not to comment, words slip out of his mouth regardless. "We've never been attracted to the same person, so let's not start now." He has said too much, and he knows it. Silently cursing himself for doing so, and he averts his gaze, bringing the half-full bottle of beer to his lips to down the remainder of alcohol.
She didn't expect him to admit it and she bites down on her tongue to stop the grin she feels tugging on the corner of her lips. She knows better than to dive right into his admittance, and thus she pretends to let him off the hook. "Samantha told me differently," she counters, tilting her head to the side. "Quite literally a year ago."
He frowns first, wondering what she is talking about but her words start to ring a bell at the mention of Tanner's last birthday. He rolls his eyes then, shakes his head and gives her a disapproving look. "I thought she was someone else," he explains truthfully.
Dana laughs, she knew that too, but it's still fun to make him cower so she merely bobs her head to the side; challenging his answer.
"You really think I'd hit on your girlfriend in front of your face."
She doesn't miss how the playful tone had made place for a more serious one and she knows his history. Knows this is something he wouldn't ever do and she shakes her head, mouthing an 'I know' in return.
"What did you even see in her anyway?" His question based on genuine curiosity but mostly a way to divert the topic of their conversation away from him, away from Donna.
Dana looks down at the floor, taking a moment to think. Three months ago she would have been able to give him a list of reasons, tonight she, too, wonders what. The hurt from the last couple of weeks still too real and in a way, it reminds her of how things ended between her and Harvey. Her answer therefore based on that.
"She is kind of like you," she starts, noticing the look on his face she puts him in his place again. "Better of course, but – " Dana stalls, she bites down on her lip. Her emotions overtaking again and she pictures her with Allison again. "She just doesn't need a dick to act like one."
He near chokes on his beer at her answer, needing another sip after a cough to comfort his throat. There are plenty of things crossing his mind but it's the way she looks down again that makes him ask. "What did she do?"
"Things ended because she said the timing wasn't right. Too busy with graduating, her internship," she sums up, shrugging again, she hugs her arms to her frame once more. "But I saw her with Allison Holt."
Harvey doesn't know what to say to that. The woman in front of him might be his ex, but he still doesn't like to see her hurt and he finds himself taking a step forward, letting his right arm slide over her shoulder. He envelopes the petite brunette in an embrace. "I am sorry, Scottie."
She sniffs once, her eyes close and she knows the four softly uttered words aren't just about Samantha. They're also about them, their past, the present and the future. She bobs her head ever so slightly, her hand falling against his chest as she moves away again. Her gaze locking with his.
He looks at her again, knows she wasn't there for what he wrongly assumed the first time around, but he uses the same words to break the tension again. To step out of the serious conversation they just had. "I'm still not taking you up on our old deal."
His words have the desired effect because she laughs genuinely. She nods then with a smile and agrees to his statement. She shifts on her spot and steps to the side, ready to leave him alone, but she can't help but give him one last piece of advice.
"Harvey."
He turns to look over his shoulder in her direction.
"Timing may not have been right for Sam and me, but I think it might be right for you and –"
He already shakes his head before she gets to finish her sentence and he's relieved the redhead's name doesn't get pronounced. It doesn't matter though; they both know who the subject of their conversation is anyway. "It's not like that," he tells her. "We're just friends. That's it."
Dana looks at him for a moment, and she knows there's something he isn't telling her. His answer not the full story but she doesn't push him any further, she teases him one last time. "Well, if you don't make a move, I might."
"Don't –"
She grins proudly, taps his arm with a flick of her wrist and nods. "Got you."
.
.
February 13th, 2016
He spots her familiar red hair in the distance and increases his pace until he runs the few yards to catch up with her. Swinging his backpack over his shoulder, he uses the movement to bump into hers. "Hey, neighbour."
She has to take a step to the side to regain her balance, her head tilts to the ride and she playfully slaps his arm to scold him for his actions. But it's his gaze that meets her that makes her forget about it almost immediately. "Hey," she whispers in return then.
"Big plans for the weekend?"
His question takes her off guard and she frowns in return. Only realising what he's really asking when he signals the weekend bag she's carrying with a bob of his head. "Ooh," she shakes her head. "This. Just on my way back from rehearsal."
He takes in her answer and nods in understanding as they continue their route down to the apartment building. "So no hot date then, okay. Good to know."
She glances at him again, isn't entirely sure what to make of his remark. She's told him about her rule before, but she can't tell if he's serious or if he's just playing with her because of it. Because he knows it's a way to get her attention. "What?"
He signals one of the Valentine's day banners spanning behind the window of a restaurant they pass. "Just figured you'd be one of those girls who celebrates."
"One of those girls?" she repeats with a raise of her eyebrows. She cuts him off before he can answer. "I'm not," the words leave her lips so quickly, it's on principle but now that she gives it a minute's thought she realises there hasn't been a single Valentine's day in the past five years that hasn't included some sort of celebration. "Okay, maybe I was."
"Was?"
She shrugs, glances at the window display of the stationary shop they pass now. "It's a stupid holiday, I know that." The sigh that follows a little bit too long and too loud to go unnoticed and she realises there's no point in denying the truth. "It's not that I ever cared about the day, but I can't say I haven't been trying to forget about it this year."
He looks at her face through the reflection of the window. "Why?"
"It's not about the stupid gifts or – It's just I can't remember a year I didn't – " she pauses, glancing down at her feet. "And tomorrow, well."
He lets her words sink in, thinks about his own track record with the particular holiday and one mandatory card making session in fourth grade he's never done anything about it. "Is that a not so silent hint or?"
Her mouth drops at first, a look thrown his way and she laughs then. She shakes her head but doesn't actually say anything.
"Okay."
He sounds way too mischievous to her liking. "Harvey," it's one word, his name but a warning this time.
He recognises the tone she used in the pronunciation of his name, remembers her using the exact same one the night of Tanner's party. He also remembers how her rule was brought up again that night and he doesn't have to say it this time around cause he knows.
"I don't do that shit."
"Never?"
"Never."
.
.
February 14th, 2016
Never.
She can still hear him say it and even though she knew it to be the truth she already didn't believe it fully then. The mischievous glint in his eyes and that signature grin he sported when he said it. She should have known he would do this, and deep down she may even have expected it.
And that's why it makes her laugh now.
The envelope with her name on it pushed under the door. Shaking her head, she bends down and picks it up. It's his name she mutters twice, in amusement and she all too easily snaps a picture of the envelope. Sending it to him with a quick message. "This made me giggle, thanks."
Phone and card in hand she quietly wanders back to her room, she may know the object in her hand is nothing more than a joke. Running into Rachel or Mike right now would prove to be a challenging explanation and she rather avoids it altogether.
Shutting the door behind her, she tosses her phone on her bed and slides her right knee over the duvet until she lets herself fall down. Leaning on her elbows she turns the envelope around in her hands. Opening it at last.
She has no clue if he has even written something down in the first place and if so what it would be, but the second she pulls the card from the envelope another chuckle escapes her. The quick message, even without it being signed, being so clearly his.
"Screw the rules."
She rolls her eyes and bites down on the side of her cheek. She knows he isn't here to witness her reaction but it would have been exactly this. Their banter always playful, toying a line but both aware of the boundaries there.
Her smile however fades as quickly as it came when she turns over the card.
It isn't a Valentine's day card, doesn't even have a single obnoxious heart on it. In fact it features another holiday altogether. The Merry Christmas greeting crossed off and replaced by a Merry Valentine's Day one in his writing, but her stomach flips at the sight of mistletoe in front of her.
She swallows thickly, her eyes close and she blindly places the card back into the envelope. The simple graphic triggering more than she was prepared for, it's hurt she feels now. Because of how hung up she still is on this one moment, how she can't put it out of her mind even though she doesn't know who she kissed.
She finds herself wishing the card wasn't from Harvey, but from him.
The hurt slowly makes place for anger, not necessarily at her upstairs neighbour but at herself. For telling him, for sharing this secret with him and she decides then that she won't ever bring it up again with Harvey. The search for the mistletoe mystery man something that she has to do and that in no shape, way or form includes him.
.
.
February 25th, 2016
She feels her phone buzz in the pocket of her pants, a grin already spreading over her lips in anticipation of the message as she reaches for her phone. She expects it to be him and one of his ridiculous messages, that come at all hours of the day even at midnight or six in the morning and it would be very him to text her knowing she is busy.
I'm off to Samantha - have a good weekend and see you on Sunday night. X
Except the message is from Rachel, a reminder of what she told her this morning already, how she would visit her sister and how the two of them would go to DC for the weekend. She texts back a "have fun" and doesn't think much of it until hours later.
Hand going over every pocket, searching all corners of her bag. She even lifts the painting Rachel said they should keep a spare key behind but she was against it and right now she regrets her decision more than anything in the world.
She is halfway through writing a message to Rachel when she realises there is no point, the brunette already having left the city by now. She sighs then, letting her head fall against the wooden door.
That movement coming with a painful pinch against her head because of the bobby pin in her hair. An idea crosses her mind then, she moves back and pulls the pin out, making her auburn locks fall loosely down her eyes. She blows them away and brings the pin to the lock.
He spots her even before he reaches the landing, confusion washes over his face as he studies her every move and he takes his sweet time making his way over to her.
"You know," he starts, leaning against the wall next to her, "most people would use a key for that."
She rolls her eyes and looks back up at him. "I'm not most people." She sees him purse his lips and wordlessly agrees to her statement, the reaction also an unspoken question. "I forgot my key, Rachel is away for the weekend, so I locked myself out."
He pushes himself onto his feet, dropping his hand and he holds it up just in front of her. "Give me that."
She chuckles at first, studies him then wondering if he's serious but his expression doesn't change and so she does, placing the bobby pin on his palm. "Okay, James Bond."
"Move over, pussy Galore," the comeback accompanied by a flick of his wrist against her shoulder.
"Ooh I'm no pussy Galore," she objects but moves aside anyway, signalling that the floor is al his with her hand.
"Why not?"
"She had a thing for him," she reasons, "and that's not the case here."
He grins proudly, not because he just got put in his place again but because she didn't let him bluff her with his movie knowledge. He squats down and brings the pin to the lock once more, only countering the statement then. "Isn't it?"
She purses her lips and bites down on the side of her cheek, doesn't justify his question with an answer but tells him to hurry up anyway.
"Fuck," he mutters a minute later, pulling it out again.
"You didn't break it, did you?"
"No," he answers, showing her the bobby pin in his hand.
The shake of his head and the sigh that follows enough for her to realise it isn't going to work. "Fuck," she mutters then too because there's no way she's getting into her apartment now.
"Do you have a window open?" He wonders out loud then, pushing himself to stand again, he hands her back the pin. "We could try and get in using the fire escape, money penny."
"Ease up, James Bond." She brings the pin back to her hair, sliding a lock behind her ear. The look on her face already conveying the we're not going to try that message. It's the somewhat disapproving look she gets in return that has her add. "Rachel left for the weekend, nothing is open or unlocked."
"Does Mike have a spare?"
"What?"
"Mike," he repeats. "Doesn't he have a spare key?"
"I…" She pauses, thinking about it. "I don't know, but I guess so. Is he home?"
"Only one way to find out."
.
She shifts over the leather couch, pulling a leg up under her. Her head leaning against her hand that rest on the back of the couch and a yawn escapes her lips then. Eyes closing along with. She jerks her head back up as she snaps awake again, her gaze instantly locking on the time displayed on the microwave in the kitchen. It's almost midnight now.
"Where the hell is the puppy?"
Harvey turns his head away from the movie they were watching, the second instalment in the Star Trek franchise. The first one he made her watch one night mid-February. "Puppy?"
"He reminds me of a golden retriever."
He laughs at the way she delivers her answer, trying to sound all innocent but the shrug she says it with anything but that. "I don't know," he admits then to her previous question, not having heard from Mike since this morning. Texting him not an option as the object lay there right in front of them on the coffee table. "Guess he should be back any minute."
Another ten minutes pass and there's still no sign of the blond, he has however caught the redhead yawn at least a dozen of times and when he catches her eyes falling shut once more he pulls his legs from the table. He shifts ever so slightly, briefly places his hand on her knee to wake her. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
"Huh," she whispers, yawning once more as she glances up at him in confusion.
"You can stay over, I'll sleep on the couch."
She freezes on her spot, needing a second to take in his words and she runs a hand through her hair and over her face to wake herself up again. "I'll sleep on the couch, I'm the idiot that locked herself out."
"Donna," her name rolls off of his tongue too easily and he shakes his head. "I'm not letting you sleep on this shitty couch." He motions for her to get up and he's already halfway to his bedroom when she finally gets up as well.
He didn't have to say end of discussion for her to understand that it was and she does follow him to the room she set foot in just once before. She watches him reach for a pillow, but she isn't one to give in without a fight and thus she counters. "Let's share it then."
"What?" He pauses his movement, holding the extra pillow and sheet he pulled from the cabinet.
She signals his bed in the middle of the room, shrugs once. "We're adults; we can share a bed."
"What if I sleep naked?"
If she wasn't completely drained his comment would have made sure she was fully awake again, but she can only manage a lazy laugh and a shake of her head. "You don't." She takes a step forward and pulls the pillow from his hand, snatches another from the chair next to her and places them along with one from his bed in the middle of the mattress.
He watches her pat the pillows twice, placing another in the middle. "What's this pillow mountain for then?"
"Just making sure your fully clothed ass stays on your side." She points at the left side of the bed sitting down on the right end herself, she kicks off her shoes.
He doesn't actually bother but it's her confidence that has him highly amused and makes him fire back another statement. "You're on my side though."
"You snooze, you lose," she counters pulling both of her legs onto the duvet, pulling the red lace of her dress over her lap once more. She turns to face him. "Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow? I'd hate to ruin this dress."
He hums, makes his way over to the cabinet and pulls out an old NYU baseball team shirt, handing it to her. He retreats to the bathroom and lets her change here.
When he returns she has already moved under the covers on her side of the bed, her auburn locks a stark contrast against his wise sheets and practically all he sees peeking out from under them.
He tosses his clothes towards the chair, now dressed in solely a pair of sweatpants, he rounds the bed and slides under the covers too. It takes three turns to find a comfortable position and he hears her giggle coming from the other side of the pillow mountain.
"So I take that's a no on you sleeping naked then."
Anyone else saying stuff like this to her and she'd have freaked out, with him it just makes her grin now. She shakes her head, turns on her side to face him even though she can't see him. "Good night, Harvey."
.
.
February 26th, 2016
She rolls around, eyes still closed and a warmth spreading over. She is still tired and wills her waking mind to give into the rest of the night, but when she inhales once more and takes in the scent that surrounds her it results in the exact opposite. The sheets smell nice, but it isn't the laundry detergent she uses, they're soft, but not the same as hers and suddenly her heart starts beating faster.
Eyes still closed she's awake now anyway, the sudden fear of not knowing where she woke up or with whom she woke up replaced by the exact knowledge of it, but it terrifies her more. Even when it shouldn't. She swallows thickly and pries one eye open.
The darkness of her closed eyes replaced by the darkness of the room, one quick glance at the clock tells her it's six past two and suddenly she feels relieved. It's still the middle of the night and even though she knows she won't have a place to stay, she can make it out of here without anyone noticing. Anyone but the man sleeping next to her.
Harvey.
Her -
Her mind fails to fill it in on autopilot, her friend she settles on at last, because he is. It could be more though she feels that too, just doesn't know which more that would be and a part of her is terrified by his ability to make her question herself. The worst part is that he doesn't even know he does it, thinks it's a game, a joke.
One she knows he's mastered over the years in and her rational tells her to not become a part of that.
She doesn't look to her right, or her surroundings for that matter. As quietly as possible she lifts the duvet and moves her legs to the side of the bed. Reaching for her dress from the floor, she figures it's safest to get dressed in the living room. To do so here she'd make too much noise and wake him.
The red lace fabric pressed in hand against the oversized NYU t-shirt she was wearing, she tiptoes to the door. Opening it as quickly and softly as possible, it's her own squeal that breaks the silence when the darkness makes place for bright sunlight coming from the opposing windows. Her squeal not triggering one but two pair of blue eyes to turn in her direction.
"Oh my god." Mike stops dead in his tracks at the sight of his girlfriend's roommate coming out of his own roommate's bedroom, barely dressed.
"Red," Tanner acknowledges her presence from his position on the couch, a grin spreading over his face as he watched her eyes widen.
"Shit," she mutters, entangling her own arms in the fabric of the dress as it slips from her grasp and she reaches for it again, simultaneously trying to cover her legs. She stares back at them in shock, eyes almost closed at the sudden brightness.
She turns to look over her shoulder, her squeal and the guy's reactions loud enough to have woken him up but she realises then that the warm mass she felt next to her were just the pillows. His side of the bed already abandoned. It was to be expected and yet it bothers her, reaching out, she quickly closes the door.
It's Mike who pulls on her arm after having seen the same bump under his covers, but the words that follow make it clear to her that he has come to the wrong conclusion. Or the partially right one, but still not the truth.
"You're running away after -"
She shakes her head, already tries to deny his words before he even finishes his sentence. "It's not what it seems."
A laugh comes from the couch. "Is he that bad?"
Her mouth drops ever so slightly and she has no clue how to answer that, but Tanner is faster again. "Doesn't surprise me one bit, now if you want a real man you know where to find me."
She bobs her head to the side, an unamused look on her face. "Thanks but no thanks," she answers with a fake smile, hoisting up her dress in her arms again, she now lifts the backpack she had left near the couch up too and makes her way to the door.
"Donna?" Mike calls after her, following close behind her.
"Nothing happened."
The blond stops the door with his hand when she opens it, his head already tilted to the side by the time she looks at him.
"Mike," she breathes, trying to stay as calm as possible and the look on her face is enough for her friend to drop his arm and take a step back. "I'm telling you, nothing happened. I forgot my key, Rachel is gone for the weekend. You didn't come back and Harvey offered me a place to crash, that's all."
He nods then, once but withholds another answer. He isn't quite sure if he believes her, because her words are the truth. He knows that, he just isn't sure that whatever it did was, was still nothing, but maybe that's his own disappointment on his roommate's behalf.
He does however reach for the bundle of keys hanging next to the door, removing the spare from the clip he hands it over to her without a word.
"Thank you, Mike."
.
Using the edge of the crate to uncap his beer, Tanner takes a sip of the cold beverage as soon as he's able to and he makes his way back down to the couch. Plopping his feet up on the table, he forgoes his books and grabs the PlayStation remote instead.
He's halfway beating Germany on FIFA when Harvey makes it through the door past six, and given Donna's rushed escape earlier in the afternoon he decides there's something more fun to do at the moment than play virtual football.
"How was your afternoon?"
The question such a common pleasantry but out of Tanner's mouth a rarity and it has Harvey taken aback for a moment. He frowns, shrugs once, mumbles a "good" at last.
"Don't you mean delightful?"
"What?"
"Ooh come on," Tanner reasons. "You left class in a hurry to get a snack and two hours later I see Donna sneaking out of your bedroom."
.
The buzzing coming off of her phone wakes her from her thoughts and she glances down at the object in front of her on the table.
Harvey - 5th Floor.
The sight of his name on her screen catches her off guard, and her chest tightens. They have been hanging out for a while, a text here and there but he has never called her and after the night they shared it brings her off her game. When the ringtone goes again, she snaps out of her thoughts and answers the call at last.
"Hey."
He finds himself smiling at her greeting, the lack of introduction what he expected if he had given her answer a minutes thought. But calling her happened on a whim and thus he forgets to greet her too, diving right into why he called instead.
"So, Tanner thinks we slept together."
She had no clue why he was calling or what he was going to say but this wasn't it and yet it is so him she can't believe she hadn't realised there would be an aftermath to her interaction with the tennis playing douchebag.
"Mike does too," she admits then, even though she told the blonde the truth. She knows he too thought they did.
"Maybe we should."
She laughs then, head moving down and her hair falling forward. He's impossible, never gives up and yet she can't even say she finds it annoying. Might actually enjoy the banter back and forth. A retort is on the tip of her tongue when a knock on the door interrupts her first.
"Sorry," she answers then, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder, she pushes herself to stand and walks to the hallway. "Have to get the -"
The word door dies on the tip of her tongue when she finds him standing on the other side of it. Shit eating grin spread across his face, phone in hand as he waves.
She shakes her head briefly, chuckles and then gives him a serious look. "That's presumptuous."
He merely shrugs.
"What are you doing here, Harvey?"
He ends the call and puts his phone away, using his other hand to reach inside the pocket of his pants. "I came here to deliver these," he explains pulling out a brown leather keychain holding two keys.
Her eyes dart to the two metal objects he's holding up right in front of her. Questioning eyes flashing back and forth between the item and his face, it's another signal of his hand for her to take them that she complies. But she shakes her head as she does so, indicating to him she has no clue what's happening.
He presses his lips together in a thin line, trying to hide his grin. Feeling proud of himself for managing to surprise her, he hasn't known her for that long but he knows the ability to do that is once in a lifetime.
"It's a spare to the building, and a spare to mine," he tells her.
She stares at him open-mouthed, glancing down at the two keys in the palm of her hand again.
"In case you forget yours again… or whatever," the last line delivered with a shrug and a wave of his hand. Trying to downplay any meaning to the gesture at all, he finds himself swallowing then. Suddenly overwhelmed by what he just did for her and looks to the side.
"Anyway," he mutters then, "I should go."
.
She registers his voice somewhere in the distance, it's only when she hears footsteps and feels him move away that she looks back up. Her throat dry and her chest tight.
It are her feet moving before her mouth does, croaking out his name and a thank you, but it's her hand on his arm that has him turn around.
"Thank you," she tells him once more, pushing herself onto her bare toes. She places a kiss on his cheek.
The moment her hand found his arm his body tensed and he became hyper-aware of their proximity, yet her lips finding his cheek takes him by surprise.
She notices that look when she pulls away again but never actually moving out of his reach, a small smile tugging on her lips when she looks up at him.
His eyes lock with hers, the tension between them ever-present but her proximity and her touch are what make his gaze slip to her lips. It's when he watches them slowly part that makes him throw caution to the wind, and he crashes his lips down on hers.
The kiss takes her by surprise, but she answers it willingly. The hand that was placed on his bicep automatically caressing up over his arm to his neck, her fingers slipping through his hair the moment he deepens the kiss.
His arms wrap around her delicate frame, pulling her closer as his tongue meets hers. The kiss a push and pull, a tug on her bottom lip just before he pulls away from air. She feels his forehead lean against hers, his breath still hot on her lips.
Her eyes flicker open and a gasp escapes her as the redhead finds herself seated upright in her bed. Hands falling flat to the duvet, she pats around the surface for a moment but there's nothing but sheets beside her.
She exhales deeply, closing and opening her eyes once more, she turns to look at her alarm clock. It's a quarter past four in the morning, and the key Harvey gave her lays right next to it. Taunting her dream, because that's what it was, just a dream.
.
.
February 28th, 2016
Rachel opens the door late that Sunday evening, her carry on back landing right next to the couch. She moves over to the cabinet near the wall and tosses her key into it like she always does. Except for this time the sound that reverberates back from it is different. It shouldn't be of any concern, but she looks anyway.
"Whose keys are that?"
Donna pokes her head out of the kitchen at the voice of her roommate's, cupping a cup of tea in between her hands. Blowing over the steaming content, she walks back. "Whose what are what?"
The brunette lifts the two keys with the brown leather chain by the metal ring, letting it dangle from her hand.
"Harvey's."
"Something you want to tell me?" Rachel cocks her head to the side, raises an eyebrow as she waits for her friend to elaborate on that answer.
Donna chuckles once, a facade for the question the brunette was really asking, the one she read on her face. Because she does know what he's like, but she also knows about his reputation. The fun she has with him and the way she feels at ease meets the first category, her dream in the second and the confusion it has brought her caused her to drop the simple object in a bowl.
Out of her sight.
Out of mind.
It's the shake of her head that has the brunette comment again. "Right."
"What?"
Rachel shakes her head, in the same manner Donna did before, shrugging once to indicate it doesn't really matter, but the redhead pushes again.
"I never told you this, but before the whole mistletoe thing," she pauses for a moment, "I wanted to set the two of you up."
Anything else would be less of a surprise than these words and Donna frowns instantly, repeating them in her head. It doesn't mix with what the brunette had told her before. "But you said he is -"
"I know what I said," Rachel answers, and she stands by it because it's true. He is a player. "It's just, I thought, with you, he'd be different." She lifts the key from the bowl again and dangles it once more. "And he is."
Donna draws in a small breath, the words she feels to be true, but it doesn't make it easier. Not when she has her rule and he isn't the one she's been looking for. So she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, pretending it doesn't mean anything. She is emphasising it by explaining what really happened.
"I locked myself out Thursday," she reasons, "and this was —" she pauses her sentence because it suddenly doesn't make that much sense anymore.
Rachel bites down on her bottom lip, noticed the explanation wouldn't make sense even before the redhead started her sentence. She also knows the logical thing to do would be for her roommate to leave Harvey a spare, not the other way around. Or just use the key Mike has. She decides, however not to comment on either of that, just nodding at last.
Donna watches her roommate walk away, the lack of rebuttal leaving her more at unease than words could have done and another wave of confusion washes over her. His behaviour, her dream and the combination is everything it cannot be, and it results in another night of dreams.
This time it's the very few things she remembers from that night before Christmas, the face she gets to see though, suddenly sporting that Cheshire cat smile she's gotten used too.
She wakes up in a sweat again, a groan rolling off of her tongue and she turns around in her bed. Burying her head under her pillow, a sudden headache overtaking her. She feels confused, betrayed even by her mind. The lack of memories and the way her mind is filling them in with things that can't be true.
Rachel said as much.
He said as much.
She knows as much, and yet she can't convince herself anymore that she wants that to be the truth.
.
.
March 5th, 2016
"Hey."
She nearly jumps on her spot, a shiver running down her spine when his voice appears behind her out of the blue. She had successfully managed to avoid him since he gave her a spare key, but the more she distanced herself from him in real life, the more he showed up in her subconscious.
She exhales deeply, wills herself to calm down and she channels the actress she is before she turns around on her spot. A smile already on her face she thinks she's ready to face him, but the second she spots that shit-eating grin on his, she feels like he knows and the in her mind so carefully crafted response is reduced to the same simple greeting.
"Hey."
He notices the slightest change in her demeanour, gaze flicking up and down over her frame to take her in. The way she looks down causing concern. "Everything okay?"
She panics but looks at him all the same. "Yeah, sure. I'm fine," she counters, doing her best to sound as such. She realises that the 'why' she adds after that is a mistake the second it has left her lips.
"Nothing," he answers quickly, not knowing how to explain, why he asked her in the first place and he hears himself rambling on with words as his mind tries to catch up with the conversation. "Just hadn't seen you in a few days, that's all," he adds, now noticing her eyes widen a bit and it unsettles him even more. Eventually pronouncing the words as a joke for he feared them to be truth. "You weren't avoiding me now, were you?"
"Avoiding you?" she repeats in a beat, and her breath falters. She had been, but he wasn't supposed to know that and thus she laughs, shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "I wasn't, Harvey," she reassures him, but the words more a reminder to herself. "I just have an audition coming up, and I needed to prepare. That's all."
There's something in her tone that makes him wonder, but he lets it slide. He just smiles at her and tells her he was joking anyway.
She purses her lips together, mirrors his nod and then breaks his gaze once more. It is leaving her too confused and on edge, something she can't be if she has to be on stage in an hour. "I should go."
He bobs his head up and down, shuffles on his spot and pushes his hands down the pocket of his pants. The shrug that follows enough to show her he isn't holding her back. He watches her continue her walk, only calling after her when she's three steps away. "Break a leg."
The phrase is common knowledge, yet she didn't expect to hear it from him. She stalls and looks back at him over her shoulder. Eyebrows raised, she silently stares at the law-student.
He chuckles, knows why she is giving him that look. "I'm not some savage animal, Donna."
The redhead cocks her head to the side.
He rolls his eyes at her dab but explains why he knows the phrasing anyway. "My dad … He is a musician, so –"
She smiles then, genuinely. "Thanks, Harvey."
.
.
March 8th, 2016
Phone pressed between her ear and shoulder she rummages through her backpack in search for her keys. Hoisting it up on her knee, she tries to listen to the casting director on the other end of the line.
Hand tapping against the railing, he takes two steps at a time on his way down. His pace slowing down the second her auburn locks come in his view and he slowly walks down the flight of stairs next. Just watching the clumsy mess she can be as she balances her bag on one leg.
He contemplates helping her but he finds the view too amusing to do so. Before he has a chance to take another step he sees the bag drop to the floor. Instead of her cursing, he hears her yell out in excitement.
"Ooh my god," she exclaims, hands automatically reaching for her phone again and she jumps up and down on her spot. "Yes. Yes, yes. Thank you so much."
Harvey smiles proudly, knows instantly what the news must have been that he just witnessed his friend getting — sauntering down the five final steps he makes his way over to her, stopping next to her. He leans down to collect her bag from the floor.
She glances at the man next to him, smile only increasing when she sees his. Her excitement in full swing, she tries her best to listen to the woman on the other end of the line. "Yeah, I'll be there," she answers with a nod, hanging up the phone then. An in-depth, content, breath escapes her.
"You just made the lead," he vocalises the news she is supposed to tell him. Her reaction and smile having given it away even before her nod now, but he mirrors that in understanding. "Holy shit, Donna, we have to celebrate. Tonight."
She beams, still a bit shaky from the news and Donna almost says yes regardless of all her hesitations when she remembers she is supposed to meet the rest of the cast tonight.
"Ooh I am –" she pauses, catching her breath and her thoughts. "I … I have to meet the rest of the cast tonight."
He swallows once, caught off guard by his invitation. Her answer not a complete rejection, and he takes it as a win. "Dinner tomorrow then."
"Okay."
"Okay," he repeats, holding the bag up in front of her. "Congrats, Donna."
.
He walks around the stage, hands behind his back but chest proudly stuck forward, his head held high. Can't believe he made it, or actually, he can. He has known all along he had the skills, just never brave enough to try and there were just so many other things he did in high school. Baton being one of them.
He looks around the group again; it is a bunch of unfamiliar faces until he spots her. Red hair framing her face and a smile he remembers seeing before. She'd been talking to Harvey Specter at the time, his nemesis but also the one person he so desperately wanted to call his friend.
The first time he saw her, he thought she studied law too, but he was quick to learn she was Rachel's roommate and had gotten to learn the guys through her. He figures then that this might be his chance. If Harvey can be friends with someone who does theatre, he can be friends with him as well.
He inhales again, nods at a fellow actor and crosses the stage in three massive strides to the woman he's just learned to be the lead in the play. "I'd say congratulations are in order, but I got a glimpse of your audition; it's not a surprise at all."
The redhead looks up and smiles, almost blushes at the words. "Wow," she mumbles, surprised to hear something like that from a co-star, has had more experience with jealous reactions in the past. "Thank you …" she smiles then, extending her hand.
"Litt," he answers, accepting her hand in his, he squeezes just a bit too hard and too long. "Louis Litt."
"Well Louis," she answers, pulling back her hand and bringing it behind her back, she rocks back and forth on her spot. "I'm Donna Paulsen."
"I know."
"Ooh." It takes her off guard, someone knowing who she is and marching up to her when she has no clue who the guy in front of her is. And for the first time in her life, the words that come so naturally to her are a strange thing to hear.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?"
She glances to the right when a new voice interrupts them, her eyes locking with a pair of blue ones. A bright smile to match and apart from just having heard he is the male lead in the rounds they did, she doesn't know him either. The blond makes her feel a little less uncomfortable than Louis, though.
"Yes, of course," she answers in a beat, pretending she was supposed to talk to him anyway as an excuse to step aside. "Sorry, Louis, I'm —" she doesn't finish her sentence but points over her shoulder as she follows the other guy.
"You looked like you needed saving."
She chuckles once, shakes her head. "I didn't," she counters, "but I'm glad you did anyway. I'm Donna," she introduces herself to him.
"I'm Mitchell."
.
.
March 9th, 2016
It's been years, but she can still sense him entering any room; it's no different in the diner this evening. Something in the air changes and she mindlessly turns to look at the entrance. Her lips curve into a smile as she watches her ex-boyfriend walk through the door, it's one nod in his direction for him to spot her too and it takes a few seconds for him to make his way over to her. "Fancy seeing you here."
He bobs his head to the side, eyes Dana for a moment. "It's the campus diner; everyone comes here."
"You never do, Harvey," the brunette fires back in beat. "Yet you are here." The nonchalant way he spoke not matching the way his jaw sets and the way he shuffles on the spot, looking over his shoulder for the second time in as many seconds. "To eat by yourself?"
He draws in a breath, the cat and mouse game fun when they were younger it gets on his nerves just as quickly now. "Who says I'm by myself?"
She wants to chuckle, throw her head to the side and mock him as he's standing there in front of her, alone. But she instantly knows who he means, why he is here and she wastes no time teasing him about it. "Donna."
He opens his mouth, ready to fire back any response but he comes up empty.
She watches his hesitation, the way his jaw clenches and the huff that follows, she grins knowingly. "Did you finally ask her on a date?"
He manages to roll his eyes, give her an annoyed look along with it. "It's dinner," he counters then. "Not a date."
Dana chuckles at that. Her ex one of the smartest people she knows yet the man in front of her could be oblivious when he wanted to. It's not her problem anymore, yet she finds herself helping him anyway. "Harvey," her tone is soft, the hand she places on his hand just to get his attention.
"We might have been seventeen but in the months we've been together, you've asked me out for dinner, exactly… Ooh yeah, zero times," she recalls. "And now you want me to believe this isn't a date."
It's more a statement than a question but he answers regardless. "It's not."
The answer is exactly what she expected him to give her, the tone it got delivered with, to anyone else just sounding like annoyance on her behalf. She knows better though. "It could be."
.
The redhead eyes the diner, checks the time on her phone and the last message from him, indicating he would wait for her inside. She inhales once, has no clue what this night will bring or what it is supposed to be or not be. Donnna convinces herself that maybe, just maybe, for one night she shouldn't think about some other guy she can't remember or a rule she has.
Perhaps she should just let things fall where they may.
She exhales then, deciding that that's what she'll do and she takes a step forward. Hands falling onto the push bar, she enters the establishment and it takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. She blinks once, let's her gaze roam through the area until it lands on the bar.
On him.
And her.
Them.
Dana's hand moving from his arm to his neck, the redhead stares for a second and her stomach tightens.
.
"There," the brunette fixes his tie, hand tapping his arm after and she smiles at him. "Now you look ready for your date."
"It's not a date."
"Well, whatever it is, you better make up your mind cause she just walked in," she counters, bobbing her head to the side to indicate the door.
Harvey turns to look over his shoulder, his gaze instantly landing on the redhead and he swallows once taking her in. He's halfway turning around when Scottie calls for him again.
"Harvey, if by the end of the evening you're still the dumbest person in the room, you know where to find me."
He rolls his eyes, clearly enough for her to notice he's not amused but his mood changes the second he turns around and his gaze lands on the redhead already sitting in the corner booths near the side. He takes a deep breath and makes his way over then.
.
She fiddles with one of the cardboard coasters, waiting for him to show up as she tries to figure out what this was supposed to mean or if there was even any meaning to give to this. She had so readily agreed she hadn't even thought about how it would be just them, how they'd never gone to a restaurant together before and most importantly, Donna couldn't decide on what she wanted it to be.
"Hey."
Her stomach flips and the coaster falls from her hand, the movement of her fingers coming to an abrupt halt before she lets her hands drop to rest on the table, she glances up to look at him. Her questions not answered, but her worries forgotten at the sight of his smile, she finds herself smiling back and returning the greeting.
He slides down onto the green leather booth next to her, arms landing on the small square table in front of them as well and he signals for a waiter to come by even before he has a chance to say anything else.
Harvey looks at her then, taking her in and his breath catches in his throat. He's always thought she was attractive, hell it's what sparked his interest in the first place, but seeing her here now with Scottie's words in mind he smiles at her again. Suddenly aware of his appearance he coughs and brings his hand to the tie around his neck, loosening the knot until it's undone and he pulls the silk fabric from the collar of his dress shirt.
"Don't," her injection comes too late; the hand that almost landed on his arm falls back to her lap when the tie is removed already. His head turns so he looks at her again. She sees the question in his eyes and she voices her opinion without much thought. "It looked good," she tells him, "you're going to be a real hotshot one day."
His eyebrows raise and the corner of his lips turn up into a big grin. The nerves he might have had gone out of the window when she picks up the banter like old times. He leans forward, ever so slightly, and the hand with the blue tie comes to rest closer to her than before. "Miss Paulsen, are you hitting on me?"
His words a tease, she knows that much and yet they make her stomach drop and her heart skips a beat. Was she? No, maybe. Her breath falters because she definitely was,and he knows. "No," she counters, her voice turning higher than she intended and she finishes it by putting on her best smile, rolling her eyes and giving him a pointed look.
He studies her, purses his lips as he does so and a small frown settles between his brows. Something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Shame."
Their banter is interrupted by the waiter arriving at their table and taking their orders. A beer for either of them, a cheeseburger for him and pizza with yellow tomatoes for her. The latter results in a curious look on his part, but she merely shrugs and says she likes it.
He thinks he likes this, them. Going out, having dinner. A date, but not. He doesn't say it though, only reaches for the cold glass that's brought over by another waiter. Bringing his drink to meet hers, he toasts on her getting the lead role in her play, a reminder to himself of why they were here.
She uses the interruption and toast to steer the conversation away from him calling her out on their flirting, sticking with the reason he asked her to come here in the first place.
"Guess who's in my play?"
"You," he counters in a beat and he grins at the way she rolls her eyes. The chuckle that leaves her, making him place his glass back down, he licks his lips as she shakes her head. Oblivious to the way his gaze trails to her lips, expertly diverting them the second she looks at him again.
"Louis Litt," she enlightens him, leaving him speechless for a near minute.
She watches him visibly process the news, tries to keep her gaze on his eyes as his facial expressions change from time to time. It's the way his mouth turns up to the side that makes her look at his lips and she swallows thickly.
"No way."
She snaps out of her thoughts and reaches for her glass. She is letting her index finger trail over the rim before she lifts it. "Way," she reassures him, nodding now too.
"I'll have to see that."
"Ooh," she scoffs, hand playfully hitting his bicep. "So you're coming to my play to see him and not me."
"I -"
"One cheeseburger."
He swallows in the rest of his sentence, not even sure how he was going to answer her question anyway. He redirects his attention to the waiter, lifts his hand and pulls his tie to the side to make place for his plate.
She reaches for her wallet with her left hand, bringing it to the side she wants to drop it on the booth in between them. Her hand brushes against Harvey's in the motion when he seemed to have the same idea regarding his discarded piece of clothing.
She doesn't dare to look at him, quickly brings her hands in front of her to take the pizza from the waiter's tray.
It's not like they haven't touched before, but the jolt he felt rushing through him at the briefest of contact now is pathetic and he balls his hand into a fist. Clenching it tightly he presses it down on his knee until it relaxes again. He tells himself to get a grip.
Donna tries to distract herself from feelings that shouldn't be about him, but are starting to be, by focussing on what she saw when she walked into the diner. The two law students, Dana and Harvey, the way they interacted and she knows about the history between them. A past she considers to be a possible future as well, so when she speaks once more she convinces herself her words are just about Dana.
"So I heard someone has a thing for you?"
He glances at her in surprise, swallows once, and his gaze drifts off to the bar in the back of the diner for a second. He remembers the words his ex spoke to him, the ones he so deliberately denied and yet hearing this now sparks his curiosity. When his look returns to the redhead next to him it's become expectant and soon after he grins at her.
"Is she a redhead otherwise I'm not interested."
She laughs, nervously and his words hit too close to home for her liking, and thus she falls back into a pattern of denial. Something she hasn´t noticed and won´t notice will become her default when it comes to him. So she shakes her head and looks away. The words to follow the truth and in them she hopes to find an explanation; an excuse. "You're my best friend, Harvey."
He swallows upon hearing the words, a rejection woven in them. It's not like it's the first one coming from her and while still in the redhead's presence, it is easily forgotten. Focussing on what he had figured to be the truth before but was voiced for the first time today instead. "Best friend, huh?"
She slaps his chest, playfully, "don't act like you didn't know."
He smirks then, proudly, because he did. "For the record, you're in the top ten too."
She purses her lips and shakes her head once more. "You don't even have ten friends, mister."
"Fine," he gives in, "don't act like you didn't know either."
"I didn't hear you say it though."
"That you're my best friend?" He asks, "because you are."
She smiles again, reaches for her glass and brings it up to meet his in a toast. "To us..." Taking a sip from her drink, she glances up from under her lashes and over the edge of the glass. Her gaze dropping to his lips for a second as he licks a droplet of beer away. The glance merely a second before it locks on his eyes again.
"Best friends," he fills in and even though she was the one to chicken out. Using the truth to steer away from another, hearing him using her excuse brings a pit to her stomach she didn't foresee.
She tries to distract herself by focussing on her food; finishing the first slice of pizza, she is halfway the second when she reaches over the table and steals a fry from his plate and then another. Her smile is only growing more mischievous when his frown deepens and his look becomes a more prominent warning.
"I thought you didn't want fries," he comments, reaching for one himself.
She shrugs, pulls on the edge of her napkin and lifts her slice of pizza again. "Just because I didn't order it, doesn't mean I don't want it," she reasons but takes a bite from her pizza again — eyes closing in a pleased hum when she tastes the yellow tomatoes.
The next couple of minutes of their dinner is spent in silence, stolen glances back and forth. Both pretending it's just a staring contest over the fries on his plate. It's Donna's hand reaching over the table when there's only one left, but he's quicker this time around. His hand instantly wrapping around her wrist and stilling the redhead's movement with it.
His eyes meet hers and he uses his free hand to take the French fry back, demonstratively eating it as she looks at him in surprise. His grin only spreading further once she starts to shake her head. He only realises he's still holding onto her when the waiter returns to the table and asks if everything is to their liking.
They both nod, pull their hands back and sit up straighter. Harvey hands his empty plate over to the man; Donna fidgets with her napkin; dropping it on her plate too when the blond asks her if he can take it as well. Her hand automatically falling around her glass, the other tapping against the rim. She only looks back up when they're left alone again.
There's something about her behaviour that has him on edge, and he can't place where it's coming from. The only logical thing something he already knows not to be the case, and she denied before yet he finds himself bringing it back up. "So back to our earlier conversation," he presses after a sip of his drink, his gaze finds hers again, he slides over the leather seating to sit just a tad closer than before.
Her breath falters in her throat, making a warmth spread over her, equally enjoyable and terrifying all the same. The latter winning it once more and so, in line with her previous answer, she pronounces a name that isn't hers. "I meant Dana," she clarifies, the flick of her wrist added to it to pretend the news meant nothing to her. "And by the way I see the two of you act -"
His eyes close for a short second, a small shake of his head as he takes in her answer. He tries to wrap his brain around it, but it only results in more confusion. "Scottie?" he inquires.
He interrupts her sentence, but it fills in everything she figured already. The nickname he has for the other woman is enough of a confirmation. She nods then, tapping her hands on the table in an unsteady rhythm. It doesn't take long before she pushes herself to stand, grabbing a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet, she tosses it on the table. "I have to go," she excuses herself, bobbing her head to the direction of the bar she glances back at him. "You should ask her out."
His mouth slowly drops, resulting in him speechlessly watching her leave. He turns to look over his shoulder, his gaze following her out of the door and only when the sound of it falling shut echoes through the diner again does he snap out of his thoughts.
"What the fuck?" he mutters to himself, shaking his head for a second time. He quickly turns to look out of the window, but when the redhead is nowhere to be seen; he sinks back into the green leather of the booth and his gaze travels back to the bar.
Donna lets out a deep sigh, her eyes closing and she curses under her breath. She stops in her tracks then, standing there for a moment wholly frozen and confused. She moves to look back over her shoulder, gaze locking in onto 'Citizen' again and her heart swells.
Why couldn't you just give it a go?
It's what she imagines Rachel would say. Deep down she knows her friend would be right and she has no answer for it. Not really, scared not an emotion that's usually common to her but what he does to her terrifies her beyond recognition.
She exhales once again, her body winning it over her mind and without a chance to think it over, she makes her way back to the diner. Her paces growing faster with every stride she takes; Donna climbs the small concrete stairs with two steps at the time.
His name is on the tip of her tongue when she swings the door open, but she never pronounces it when the first thing she sees is the exact same two people she saw upon entering over an hour ago. Except this time it isn't a simple touch she witnesses; it's a kiss.
.
Dana pulls back, a gasp escaping her lips and it takes her a moment to wrap her brain about what just happened. She closes her gaping mouth, only for it to drop again. The brunette stares at her ex, they've shared plenty of kisses and more even after their break up. They have a deal after all, but after months of disinterest on his part it's why she can't place this one happing. "Why now?"
He stares at her with a blank expression, words lacking a shrug is all he can muster, but it's enough for her to know. He didn't kiss her because of their deal, or because he wants her. He kissed her because Donna doesn't want him.
She doesn't speak but nods in understanding, and when his hand finds her arm she lets him. Because she gets it and he did the same for her. It's the distraction she needed after her break-up with Samantha, and it's what he needs now.
.
Searching for her key, she wipes the back of her hand under her eye, removing any possible traces of smudged mascara. Her walk back home already challenging enough, she knows that if Rachel gets wind of what happened, there will be even more questions and she isn't ready for that either.
Taking one more deep breath, Donna composes herself and enters the apartment. Quietly making her way in, she's halfway to succeeding by making it to her bedroom unnoticed when Rachel's voice echoes through the room. It's a simple greeting, but she has to show her face now, that much she knows.
"Where were you?"
Donna opens her mouth and pauses almost instantly, but decides it's best just to tell the truth. Her roommate's boyfriend was bound to know anyway, and that means Rachel would eventually know too, making it the best solution to explain her herself. "I just went for dinner with Harvey."
The brunette studies her friend, that much she already knew. "Just?"
"Just what?" The words leave her lips too soon to take back, and she immediately knows what will be next, cursing herself for it.
"Is that all it was?" Rachel spells it out this time, she eyes her friend with a newfound curiosity and the redhead doesn't miss the hopeful tone in her voice.
"What else would it be?"
Rachel shakes her head and glances away, eventually pushing herself up from the couch and walking over to the dining room table and sitting down again. "You know," she starts, "I wanted to set the two of you up. That day of the market, and -" she pauses eyeing her friend again. "I just figured with the way you two hit it off; I wouldn't have to do so anymore."
Donna's breath catches in the back of her throat, her heartbeat increases and she shuffles on her spot. Gaze landing on her own feet and remaining there as she speaks. "I don't like Harvey like that, I -"
"Like the guy from the mistletoe kiss," Rachel fills in the sentence for the redhead, shaking her head as she does so and she watches her friend's gaze return to her. She nods then, in acknowledgement of the words she said herself. "I know."
Donna gives her a look that is a combination of "that's my line" and her being unamused.
"Don," she continues, hand falling to the table. "You don't even know who that is."
"So?" She fires back with a shrug. "Isn't that the fun of it? The mystery?"
Rachel shakes her head, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth and she does her best not to comment but her friend would be nothing but brutally honest with her and she decides to give her the same respect. "You keep setting yourself up for failure if you can't forget about this guy."
Donna draws in a breath and exhales through her nose. She knows it's the truth but she won't let her friend get away with it, and thus the argument continues, building a dialogue on a night she can barely remember, but she can't handle reality right now. "Isn't that the thing though, that a guy should make me forget about that event."
There are so many things Rachel wants to counter with; she eventually settles on what she knows to be a simple fact. "Harvey does."
"Please." The redhead scoffs, loudly, and more dramatically than the situation called for; only telling the brunette that she is spot on.
Rachel bobs her head to the side, studying her roommate and the stiff stance she's taken on. She may not have the specific reading skills the woman in front of her does, but she's picked up on a few things along the way. "Besides the first time you spoke to him," she challenges Donna by recalling a conversation, "has it ever come up?"
Donna looks away, chewing on the side of her cheek. She focuses her attention on a stain on the back of the couch, her thumb running over it now. "That's because I don't want him to know."
"Know what?"
How hung up she still is on that kiss? How a part of her wanted it to be him even though she knew it wasn't at all possible. How she cried on her way over tonight because she watched him follow up on the advice that she gave him?
Rachel doesn't wait for an answer; it was a rhetorical question anyway. "That you got drunk?" She recalls, "that you partied too hard? Donna the guy is hardly a saint; he won't care that you can't remember one night from months ago that in no shape way or form involves him."
The brunette takes a second to breathe, her words finally bringing her friends gaze to meet hers again. The look in them something she recognises but misidentifies. "You're not not bringing it up because you're ashamed," Rachel continued. "But because he makes you forget. Which is exactly what you said you wanted, so I don't know what the big deal is here. You two are obviously into each other."
Donna bites down on her tongue at the last words, only a partial truth. Her mind brings her back to the last thing she saw before she waltzed out of the diner again. Harvey kissing Dana.
"I'm going to walk away now, before you and I can't go back from this."
"Don," Rachel calls after her, but it's to no avail, just seeing the red hair of her roommate as she turns around the corner. The slam her door falls shut with tells Rachel the conversation has truly ended and is not to be brought up again any time soon.
The redhead lets her head fall back against the door, an unsteady snicker escaping her and she wills herself not to give in to what she can't define. Instead she reaches for her phone, unlocks it and switches to the number she'd only recently gotten.
Hey Mitchell, how about that drink? - X Donna