legs

They've been working together almost a year when it happens.

It's a Saturday, and he's at the DA's office prepping for trial when he sees a flash of red cross his vision. He thinks he may have imagined it so he goes back to his trial prep but then he hears the tap on his door.

He's not sure what she's doing here on a Saturday, after she proclaimed that working on weekends was for nerds, but as soon as he looks up he suddenly loses all train of thought and any quip he may have had vanishes.

She's wearing shorts. Donna Paulsen, his secretary, is wearing shorts, and not just any shorts, but small, tiny white shorts with a frayed hem and with legs that go on for miles longer than any pencil skirt he's ever seen them in. It takes him another full minute before his eyes meet hers and he can tell she asked him a question but he hasn't any idea what she could have said.

"Um, huh?"

Clearly seeing his fluster she revels in it for a moment before she repeats, "I said, what are you doing here on a Saturday?"

"I could ask you the same thing?" He retorts, finally grasping the English language again.

"I just forgot my script here last night and I need to run lines," she says. "Harvey, you should go home, or at least take this home, it's Saturday."

"I'm only going to be here a few more hours. I promise."

Staring him down, she finally gives in knowing she won't change his mind, and then she's nodding her head and bidding him goodbye, turning on her heels and heading out the door while his eyes never leave her form until she turns the corner.

A few weeks later, when he shows up at her door proclaiming he's quit, those same legs wrap around his torso and he thinks they looked amazing in those shorts but they look better wrapped around his midsection.