A/N: Luisa (hellcsweetie) and I started this little collaboration back in July. We were both just really taken with the idea of faith having a symbolic meaning for Donna and Harvey; and a few days ago we revived and revised it and well, here we are! Luisa is an angel and I feel so humbled that she wanted to write this idea with me. We hope you enjoy reading it xx

𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒽

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Harvey collapses next to Donna, their heavy breaths echoing around her room. He feels pleasantly spent with all the dopamine flowing through his body, and one look at Donna's satisfied little smile tells him she feels the same way.

"Everything alright over there?" he teases, rearranging himself on the bed.

"Please," she scoffs audibly, though she's still panting. "It'll take more than that to impress me."

"There will be more than that, but I know you're already impressed. No need to pretend, Donna, it's just you and me," he smirks at her attempted arrogance.

She grins and turns her head to look at him. "You're one to speak after I just rocked your whole world."

He considers playing it down like she just did, but he knows there are red marks all over his back and his body is covered in a sheen of sweat and she's looking good enough to eat and his initial instinct dies in his throat.

"Let's just say we make a good team," he proposes with a smirk.

"That we do," she smiles back and turns to the ceiling.

They lay quietly for a moment, absorbing their recent activities, letting themselves rest before the announced second round.

"Were you ever going to tell me about this?" Harvey breaks the silence suddenly, gliding his index finger over the tattoo under her left breast. It's a small, dainty little thing, written in a simple script font.

Faith.

"What, and give you yet another reason to picture me naked?" she almost snorts and he figures she has a point, though he's obviously not going to tell her that.

"Donna," he mock-chastises her, "I thought we were friends."

"Would you have told me if you had any tattoos?" she lifts a knowing brow at him.

"Fair enough," Harvey grins and glides his finger over the ink again.

As far as he knows, Donna's not a religious person. And she hasn't told him about any major life events, like a tragedy or an accident, that would warrant this. It's a little faded, which tells him she got it a while ago, and it's somewhere no one will ever see unless she wants them to, which suggests a private meaning. Finally, he caves.

"What's it about?"

"It's…" she takes a breath. "A reminder. That we all go through difficult times in our lives and that it may seem like there isn't a light at the end of the tunnel. But there is. There always is. We just need to have faith."

She watches as he contemplates the tattoo, caressing it with the pad of his index finger, and ponders her words. It's a surprisingly positive outlook on life, though he knows Donna's an optimist. He hasn't had the same luck; he's gone through difficult times and there was no light, not even a tunnel, just a bottomless well. He had to claw his way up alone, figure it all out himself before he was barely an adult, right wrongs with his bare hands. Faith didn't do shit for him.

"And, what? You saw that on the window of a tattoo parlor and decided to go in?" he teases, trying to coax more out of here.

She rolls her eyes dramatically, shaking her head at him. "If you must know," she pauses, and it seems like she's trying to decide how much to share. "My family went through some stuff when I was a teenager. And… I might have ended up in a really dark place if I hadn't had faith. So," she shrugs noncommittally.

He wants to ask more, wants to know what her family went through and how it shaped her, wants to know what she was like as a kid and a teen and if she gets along with her parents or has any siblings.

But he's weary of abusing her patience and generosity. And he knows from personal experience that family can be a touchy subject, so he just lets it go.

"I didn't take you for a tattoo person," he admires the script one last time before finding her eyes.

"I like to keep an aura of mystery," she smirks and slides her own palm up his arm, possibly to distract him from asking more questions.

He's well aware of her aura of mystery, has been trying to pierce it ever since that first night at that bar, and he's occasionally been successful. But he likes it when she shares things, maybe even more than he likes guessing things right, because it makes him feel like she trusts him, like this bond they've started to forge goes both ways, it's not just him trusting her and relying on her and needing her.

She seems to believe in him and his goodness in a way that no one ever has before and for the first time he realises that this is where their journey ends. The thought of losing this, her faith, hadn't crossed his mind before, but he finds that he doesn't like it one bit. So he focuses on the way her fingers work their magic to rile him up again and they go back to strawberries and whipped cream and forget all about faith.

.

"Oh no, no way," Donna laughs loudly, shaking her head.

"I swear. And, to make matters worse, she had to rename her dog after that," Harvey grins and takes a sip of his whisky, and Donna's head leans back as she laughs harder.

She's sitting on his chair, as she is prone to do when she's feeling proud of herself or the way she does when they agree to have drinks in his office and she swoops in to steal his place when he gets up to put on music or fix the drinks. He doesn't particularly mind; Donna fits well into positions of power, even if her title doesn't exactly evidence that. So when she does that, he usually sits across from her on one of the other chairs, or perches himself on his desk, close to her.

At this point, she might be the one woman who knows him best, except maybe for Scottie. They've been doing this – having a partnership – for years now, and what was once made tense and heavy by the burden of attraction is now easy and seamless. The sex was amazing, but she was right; they work best as this, as a team at work, as adviser and executioner, as closer and assistant.

The record he picked comes to an end and he gets up to choose another one as she refills their glasses. He chooses one by his father, one that just got remastered and his dad sent him the new copy.

"Is that Gordon?" she asks, pointing to his record player. He nods, amused. She's getting good at recognizing his dad's particular style; she wasn't a jazz girl before, as she told him herself, but getting to know him and talking to Gordon on the phone when he calls for Harvey and even attending some of his concerts at bars has made her gain appreciation for the genre and even learn a bit about it.

She asks about Gordon's last concert, the one Harvey went to in March, and he's happy to share all the details, how the bar was more crowded than usual, how his dad told the crowd the exact same jokes and anecdotes he offers every single time.

It's easy, spending time with her, something he's infinitely grateful for. They can talk about anything, and as much as she pushes and prods and teases information out of him, she has never once made him feel forced to tell her anything he didn't want to share, and she has never made fun of him or admonished him for something serious. So he doesn't mind telling her about his father and his music, his childhood with Marcus, even all the stuff with his mom. Donna's a good listener, and trustworthy, and he thinks if there were ever anyone to tell all those things, it would be her.

They alternate between moments of silence and comments about the song that is currently playing. This one has a really good backstory, one he knows Donna will like, so he tells her.

"I can't believe your dad actually composed and recorded a song about a random woman he barely knew and who never wanted to go out with him in the first place," Donna chuckles, still wrapping her mind around it.

"Yeah, he's… He's sort of a hopeless romantic." Harvey looks down, takes another sip. "He can be very impulsive when it comes to feelings and stuff. Jumps right in, doesn't make smart choices."

That's how he chose Lily, Harvey thinks bitterly but doesn't say. For all the qualities Harvey admires in his father, his recklessness when it comes to matters of the heart is something Harvey has always worked hard to avoid. He doesn't like sentimentalism, doesn't like the idea of giving yourself away to someone else because people betray and deceive and you'll end up battered and bruised and fooled.

Donna hums in acknowledgement, picking up on his pensive mood with a simple glance in his direction. She doesn't say anything but he knows she can read him like an open book. It's what makes this so easy with her, he never has to say a goddamn thing for her to know what's going on, and he appreciates her silence more than any words. The record comes to an end and he puts on a new one that he's not sure he's ever shown her before.

It's a soft ballad with a simple swing rhythm that reminds him of the way things used to be before, before his innocence was ripped away, before he was forced to grow up and before everything blew up at home.

He walks back towards the table, perching himself even closer to her this time, making any space between them disappear.

"Have I ever shown you this record before? My dad used to play it all the time when I was a kid."

"I don't think so…" she replies slowly. He thinks it's cute the way she half-closes her eyes and turns her neck slightly to listen more closely to the song. A moment passes, then she furrows her brows in confusion, or maybe recognition. "Hang on. What's this called?"

"It's 'In a sentimental mood' by Duke Ellington. It's one of my oldest records. Why?"

"Hmm, I thought I recognised it," she replies pensively.

"How would you know one of his songs?"

"I don't know. It just sounds like a song I used to play," she muses, her eyes a little distant as she taps her fingers along to the rhythm on the edge of his desk.

"Donna?" he asks, a little amused.

"I played something like that once." She shrugs, reaching for her drink to divert from the unexpected nostalgia that has overcome her.

Harvey hikes up an eyebrow. "Excuse me. Played?"

"Oh, the piano." Her response slips out automatically and she watches Harvey's face contour into surprise and amazement.

"You play the piano?"

"Well, I used to. I haven't actually played it since I was a teenager."

Donna smiles softly, lost in past memories. She'd been an excellent player, hoped to maybe make it into a career one day.

"Why did you stop?" Curiosity gets the better of him and he scolds himself for prying when she looks at him with guarded eyes.

Then she blinks and the look is gone. Removing her legs from the table, she stalls. Her past doesn't cause her any pain or embarrassment, but it's a delicate subject for her. She'd avoided talking about it thus far, but with Harvey openly sharing past memories, she knows she can trust him with hers too.

"We had to give the piano away when my dad made a few bad business deals and we lost all of our money."

She bites her lip almost diffidently and he thinks it's an interesting look on her. It's like peeking behind the curtain of The Amazing Donna and realising that she has a past like everyone else.

He's eager to learn more about her, fascinated by every layer she reveals of herself. He'd learned early on that she's fiercely private and he can sympathise with that. But after sharing memories about his dad all night, he wants to know more about hers too.

"What happened?"

"We had to downsize everything and the piano simply wouldn't have fit into our small apartment. It burst my dream of ever making it as a pianist."

He's struck with the sudden urge to give her shoulder a squeeze, or take her hand in his but he clamps down the urge as soon as it arises.

Instead, he says, "Donna, I'm so sorry. That must've been a big change."

"It was," she replies, looking down. "The move put a strain on my parents' relationship and we all needed to work hard to make ends meet each month."

"Is that how you got into theatre?"

"Yeah. I started working as a part-time waitress and actress on the weekends. Initially, I just did it to support my parents but I quickly became my only escape from dealing with my fighting parents."

He thinks back to the afternoons spent at the batting cage, passing time to make sure he got home late enough that Marcus would already be there and there was no risk of finding Lily with some guy in his father's bed again.

He remembers the days spent slaving away at summer jobs, fixing every car available and mowing every lawn, having to stay up well into the night to catch up on schoolwork and not even being upset because that was his path towards finally leaving the house and putting his past behind.

But he also remembers the pain, the complete disappointment of an injured shoulder and a dream washed down the drain. That was an accident, and he could deal with accidents. He doesn't know what he would have done if it had been someone's fault.

He gapes at her. "And you were fine with it? With giving up on your dream?"

"I was sad," Donna admits. Heartbroken would be more fitting she thinks but doesn't say. "But it was out of my control, and my dad was trying his best and I had to recognize that."

He shakes his head, not understanding. "How could you forgive him?"

To him, what Jim did was simply reckless and stupid. He'd knowingly put his whole living, his family and life, on the line and the whole thing leaves a bitter taste in Harvey's mouth, reminding him of his own mother's shortcomings.

"My dreams weren't as important as showing my dad that one mistake didn't need to define the rest of his life."

"How?"

Donna tilts her head and looks at him patiently.

"Well, I had faith in him. I still have faith in him."

All pieces fall in unison like a loose pack of cards and Harvey pauses for a second then points at his own chest.

"Is that what this is about?"

She takes a steadying breath, aware that she just revealed much more of herself than she ever thought she would.

Eventually she shrugs a shoulder. "In part, yes. I got it as a reminder to have faith that everything will turn out the way it's supposed to."

Harvey isn't entirely sure he shares that sentiment. He's used to making his own luck, instead of trusting fate, and so faith isn't exactly a familiar concept to him.

But, throughout the years, Donna continues to be living testament of her belief. Harvey falters, and stumbles, and falls, and at every turn Donna is there, ready to assure him that his mistakes don't define him.

When he screws things up with Scottie, when he almost ruins the career of an innocent, if lost, man, when Mike is on trial and Harvey is as far away from having faith as he's ever been, Donna offers a calming word, a new perspective, and her undying faith in life and in him.

He thinks he's never met someone as trusting of the world, of others, of him. It's Donna's faith that leads him to let Mike make his own choices for himself, her faith that guides him through navigating life without Jessica, her faith that convinces him to reconcile with his mother and help his brother despite not being sure he deserves it.

Donna trusts, and she has enough faith in him for the both of them. In the end, he realizes how integral that has always been.

.

The dim light of her bedroom casts her skin in a golden hue as he runs a finger delicately over the ink below her left breast.

"What?" she snickers, watching him.

"This," he replies simply and lays a soft kiss on the tattoo.

"Forgot I had it?" Donna lifts a brow, amused by his sudden fascination with the thing.

"No, actually. I thought about it a lot through the years," he says, and remembers every single time that her positive outlook on life had saved him.

"So you never did put it out of your mind, huh?" she smirks, and he could go down that road with her, tease her about it because he knows for a fact she didn't put it out of her mind either. But he goes with honesty this time.

"I was just thinking how true this is. What you told me that night. You never lost faith in me, never doubted I could do the right thing, or that things would turn out alright. Even this, us, here. You believed in this. And I don't think I would have gotten where I am if you hadn't," Harvey props himself up on an elbow and looks down at her, face soft but sober. He wants her to believe this.

"I've told you this before but it's even clearer to me now. This," he touches the tattoo, "Your faith in me is all I need."

She watches him for a moment before reaching for his cheek, smoothing her thumb over it. "You have it," she says softly, and pulls his head down to seal her lips with his.

.

Harvey buys Donna a piano as an anniversary gift a year later.

They are living in Seattle and she's giggly from all the wine they consumed during dinner at their favourite restaurant and flushed from the way Harvey has been stealing touches and kisses in the cab on their ride home.

So when Harvey ushers her into the living room with a self-satisfied, proud little smirk on his lips, she laughs and warns him that his surprise may better not include watching an episode of Survivor before they get down to business.

"What's this?" she asks, stopping dead in her tracks upon seeing the shiny, black object.

"It's just a reminder," he smiles, wrapping his arms around her frame from behind. "That everything turned out the way it was supposed to."

Donna wriggles around until she's facing him, her lips parted in surprise. Her eyes search for him and she shakes her head, chuckling softly.

"You bought me a piano?"

"I bought you your piano."

Donna inhales sharply and turns around again to inspect the item. It is indeed the piano her father had to sell all those years ago, but it's polished, looking as good as new.

"I don't know what to say," she whispers, tears pooling in her eyes at his thoughtfulness.

"You don't need to say anything. Just promise me we'll use it for more than just practice."

She breaks into laughter but gets the hint, a come-hither look in her eyes.

"Alright, Mr. Specter. What exactly did you have in mind?"