Just something small and absolutely silly to get the writing gears grinding again. This is for people who love pre canon darvey just existing around each other and their dinamic, which is one of my favorite genres of fic and I wish there was more of.
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When he first got to the office, about 20 minutes ago, he had the Berkley deposition in mind, but ever since informing him it had been postponed to 3PM Donna has not stopped chattering in his ear about all the "important information" he had missed since they last spoke on Saturday morning.
It's all gossip and the tiny laugh lines around his mouth don't let him fool her for a second that he's not interested, even though she's going at it at 1000 miles a minute and he's still on his first cup of coffee.
And then, out of the clear blue skies Donna says, "...and so I've decided to go vegetarian and, honestly, I feel so good about it, I mean, it's only been a day and a half, but I've already discovered this great place just on the corner of my apartment I had never even noticed—"
Harvey coughs into his cup, cutting her off. "You've decided you're what?!"
"A vegetarian," she waves her hand like it's nothing, blowing off his questioning.
"You're kidding."
"What? What's the big deal?"
"Donna, I've literally watched you moan while eating a steak before."
"Well, it was a really good steak and I don't want to have this discussion again!"
He had teased her mercilessly at the occasion so he really can't fault her for the prompt dismissal.
"So you don't want no other steak now, do you?" He smirks.
"You know, Harvey, in case you didn't know, unlike some people, I have a lot of self control..."
Don't I know it... he thinks with a heavy sigh, but refrains from saying anything.
"... and once I've put my mind to something there's no changing it."
"Yeah, that's called stubborn."
"Determined, I think you mean."
"Seriously, why you're doing this?"
"You know the planet can't sustain our level of meat consumption any longer. The single most important step an individual can take to reduce global warming is to adopt a vegetarian diet, actually, because livestock generate more greenhouse gases than all the cars and trucks–"
"How the hell did you have the time to do all this research and still be on top of the entire weekend's worth of gossip on just a Sunday?"
"I multitask."
"I really need to give you more work."
"Yeah, that would be called slavery." She throws his tease back at him, getting up to go to her cubicle and leaving him to finally start his work.
Donna has a salad for lunch that Monday, and again the next day. And the next one. At a point, Harvey starts mocking her about being too weak to carry a pile of files to his desk and asks her if she's doing photosynthesis when he catches her seated at his window sill by a streak of sunlight – to witch Donna responds by throwing a basketball in his direction with enough strength to prove her point. But after days of her salad diet he honestly starts to worry she's a little low on energy, and definitely not as chatty and bouncy as usual.
They're working late that night and he decides it's a nice gesture – helpful even – to order in some of the shitty Thai she loves. She can say whatever her stubborn little self believes, but the woman needs protein. And she loves that food – she won't be able to say no and it will be just a nice pick me up.
When the delivery guy arrives, Donna's eyes glimmer at the sight of the little cardboard containers... until she remembers her current restrictions and then she's glaring at Harvey.
"You did not!" she shrieks.
"What? We need to eat!"
"Harvey, I swear, if you have Chicken Pad Thai in there..."
The guilty – but not at all ashamed – look in his face leaves no room for doubt.
"Harvey!"
"It's been days, Donna, I'm sure you've closed a few gaps on the ozone layer or whatever..."
She huffs indignantly. "You've gotta be kidding me."
He places the containers on the coffee table, opening the first one to the delicious smell of Thai Weeping Tiger Beef – one of Donna's favorites and her instant reaction is calling him a fucking dick through her obviously salivating mouth.
Harvey steps closer to her, nudging her elbow. "Seriously Donna, you can't live off of lettuce all week long."
"That's so ignorant. Vegetarians have a rich, well-balanced diet, that's way healthier than this."
"Not this vegetarian," she scoffs, walking her to the couch. He may have just been teasing her most of the time and also selfishly not wanting to miss her company for getting burguers on a Friday night or whatever, but she's honestly not excelling in her new lifestyle. New to it and possessing absolutely no cooking skills, as Harvey had learned in a god-awful way, all Donna's been eating are salads from a bistro that delivers to the office (except for that one vegan falafel she absolutely hated yesterday).
She sits down, huffing in annoyance, but clearly she can't contradict him. "Okay, I see your point, but still. Low shot, Specter."
"Maybe you can go for meatless Mondays and that stuff."
"No, I want to do more!"
"Donna..."
"This is important, Harvey. And it's not just global warming, okay. Factory farms are so cruel to animals. That should be illegal." She looks up at him through big hazel eyes and he shakes his head, not believing the fact that he's going to allow himself to lose this argument just because Donna looks so passionate and, dare he think it, cute, about saving freaking farm animals from suffering, even though she's starving herself in the process.
He sighs deeply. It shouldn't be a surprise that she can get him to agree to anything when she looks at him like that – and, actually, it isn't. He sits beside her, opening another boxxed container and pushing it into her hands.
She looks puzzled for a second, staring down the food in her hands, and then, slowly, her mouth stretches into a smile. "Is this Thai Pumpkin Curry?" She looks at him, smiling brighter "Vegan Thai Pumpkin Curry?"
Harvey rolls his eyes a bit, a little smirk present at the corner of his mouth. "Just eat your soup, okay. I don't need you fainting around the office."
"Slave driver," she whispers, grinning, happy and grateful.
The next day, Donna looks way bouncier, color back on the cheeks, and for a minute Harvey thinks she might have taken a little leave from her diet, until she informs him she went out for lunch with some new paralegal who knew all the best restaurants in town, including an exclusively vegetarian place Donna swears she loved.
And so Donna remains, determinedly, stubbornly, vegetarian.
On Friday night, Harvey takes Donna to Del Posto. Both of them were well familiar with the menu to know that it had a few veggie options, though they had never ventured into those before, so they didn't need to worry about breaking their tradition and picking a different place for their anniversary dinner, which they're pretty relieved about. It's their favorite place and it has been for years of annual dinners.
Donna picks a bottle of wine and they spend almost all of it laughing about old memories from the DA's office, brought on when they bumped into an old co-worker just outside the restaurant. But by the time they get their food Donna seems to be drifting away, absently pushing around the ravioli on her plate.
Abruptly, Harvey asks, "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"
Donna's eyes snap into focus, a little wide and they find his. "Yes yes, Jessica and the trip to Toronto next week," she recites, but for once doesn't fool him at all.
He frowns, eyes laser sharp, reading her face. And then he almost, almost, smirks, but his poker face prevails solidly.
"That dish looks pretty good," he points out, casually.
Donna blinks, straightening her posture and rushing an answer. "Yeah, it's ah– it's great."
"You know, you were right, a vegetarian diet is not really that restrictive. Look at that ravioli! Couldn't you eat that for the rest of your life?"
"Sure." Donna deadpans.
"I have this steak here, and I mean, yes, it's so damn good, juicy and cooked to perfection, but I know it's going to leave me feeling so full afterwards, you know? That's not good."
Donna doesn't even dignify that with an answer.
Harvey smiles sweetly. "Do you want my side dish?" he asks, pointing at a plate full of arugula.
A moany groan escapes Donna's mouth and then she's pressing her fingertips into her temples and admitting defeat in a long stream of "I can't I can't I can't."
Harvey's in the split middle of feeling sorry for her and laughing his ass off, which is perfectly clear on his face as she glares at him.
"Don't say it, Harvey, I swear to god, or I might eat your face off."
He bites his lip, trying to contain a grin. "From vegetarianism to cannibalism… that would make one hell of an autobiography."
"Just give me that?!" She demands and Harvey pushes his plate to her, not containing a little chuckle.
She cuts into the meat, puts it in her mouth and moans in pleasure.
And that's it for him, he's laughing unbridled.
Donna eats his food and, even though he eats her ravioli – which was really not bad – he still ends up ordering another steak for himself. She sips her wine while she waits for him to finish his second dish, feeling utterly, deliciously, satisfied, but more than a little disappointed in herself.
"Maybe I can give up leather purses and shoes instead." She suggests, sighing dejectedly.
Harvey valiantly refrains from saying anything to that, but the little giggly hum in the back of his throat still makes Donna tell him to shut up.
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Vegetarians, don't be mad. She tried. She'll need to start with meatless Mondays, you know, baby steps.
Fancy people who go to fancy restaurants, don't be mad that I have no idea what Del Posto used to have on their menu.
