On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
A walk in the park and a trip to Tiffany's.
Strolling into the firm library, two cups of coffee in hand, Donna pauses and giggles at the sight before her - Louis waist deep in a massive box of what appeared to be tinsel, and it looked like the box next to him had erupted paper snowflakes all over the floor.
"Good morning," she greets him, setting his coffee down on a table free of Christmas clutter.
"Where have you been?!"
Louis removes himself from the box and whirls around to face her, his cheeks flushed. "We have so much to do!"
"Louis, relax. It's hardly 7:30 and I'm still on my first coffee," she says. Donna glances around Louis at the mess of decorations before calming asking, "what is all of this?"
"Jessica said we don't have the budget for new decorations, so it looks like we're going to have to make do with what we have. I had Harold pull these out of storage last night."
"That's a good use of the associates," Donna chuckles to herself under her breath, certain Louis won't be able to catch what she's saying. "I don't see what the problem is, there's plenty here."
"Don't you see, that is the problem! How are we supposed to pick a consistent colour scheme when we have so many choices?"
"I thought you wanted the party theme to be winter wonderland?"
"Of course I do, but we only have 8 days, is that enough time to create an entire wonderland?!"
"Here," Donna says, handing Louis his coffee, "Drink this while I sort out the blue and silver tinsel. We'll have everything in order by lunch."
"How is that even possible? Do you understand how much we need to get done?" Louis flails his arms.
"Louis," she says softly, reaching out to rest a reassuring palm on his shoulder, "I've got this."
.
.
Later that afternoon, Donna finds herself sitting at her desk, peering into Harvey's office. Jessica is seated across from him, her back to Donna, preventing her from reading either of their lips. She wasn't often this nosy, but the rumor running rampant around the firm that morning was that an old friend of Jessica's had recommended Pearson Specter Litt to a high-profile client, and Jessica was going to ask Harvey to represent them.
Much like her colleagues, Donna was dying to know who the potential client was, but Jessica had been tight lipped when she tried to ask her about it while discussing the firm holiday party. She knew her best bet was to pressure Harvey into telling her. Despite his professionalism, she knew he was a secret gossip and she was positive she could get him to tell her if she asked nicely (and maybe put an extra swing in her step as she walked into his office, all men were the same - predictable).
Donna watches as Jessica gets up and offers her a tight lipped smile and a nod while she brushes past her desk and back towards the large corner office that had her name etched in glass. Once Jessica is out of ear-shot, Donna scurries around her desk, tugs at the hem of her navy blue dress and puffs out her lower lip in a subtle pout. She saunters into Harvey's office slowly, allowing herself to study his record collection before wandering towards his desk, her hips swaying with more than her typical enthusiasm with each step.
"Donna," he acknowledges her presence without looking up.
"Harvey," she volleys.
"What can I do for you?" he asks. "I figured you'd be sick of me after yesterday."
"Sick of you, never. Bitter because you stole the last egg roll, definitely, but I guess I can forgive you if you tell me who this new client of yours is."
"You're telling me you didn't listen in on that meeting? You listen to all my meetings."
"I respect your privacy," she replies.
"You weren't at your desk when she said it?"
"Nope," she nods, "so, are you going to tell me who it is?"
"Nope," he smirks.
"After I did you such a huge favour yesterday, this is how you repay me," she sighs dramatically, her hand flying up so that the back of her palm makes contact with her forehead and she flops down in the chair opposite him.
"Are you done?"
"Are you going to tell me?"
"Jessica specifically told me I couldn't tell anyone until we had the agreement signed," he explains.
Donna frowns and crosses her legs, tinkering with a pen on Harvey's desk. He watches as she continues to fake pout and he shakes his head. They both know he's going to tell her, but something about this game intrigues him. It was as if he was waiting for her to call his bluff, and the longer the game went on, the more invested he became. He always had been an impulsive gambler.
"I was going to head out to get them signed this afternoon," he says. "Maybe you'd like to accompany me?"
"You need me to hold your hand while a client signs some forms?" she teases.
"Do you want to know who it is or not?'
"Sorry," she giggles, "Yes."
She smirks to herself. She knew he'd be the first to give in. He always was.
"We're meeting her at 3:30," he says, dismissing her with a wave.
"So, it's a her," Donna grins.
"Be ready at 3:15," he replies, ignoring her comment.
"Sounds good," she smiles, practically skipping out of his office.
As the hour approaches four, Donna and Harvey step out of an office building located across from Central Park into the brisk winter air. Harvey tucks the blue file folder containing the forms securing their new client into his briefcase, and tugs on a pair of leather gloves.
"I can't believe you represent Sarah Jessica Parker," Donna squeals. The pair step out into the street and cross traffic where they find themselves standing at an entrance to the snow covered park.
"I can't believe you two spent the entire meeting talking about shoes," he laughs.
"Um, HELLO," she dramatically waves her arms around her face, "we had to talk shoes. This might be the single greatest day of my life."
"Better than the day you came to work for me?" he teases, though the weary smile he's forced upon his face indicates that he's genuinely asking.
"Let's call it a tie," she replies, pulling her own pair of mittens on.
"It's surprisingly nice out, what do you say we walk back through the park?" he suggests.
Donna nods and the pair begins down one of the paths weaving through the park. It wasn't a far walk to the office and the morning wind chill was long gone, but Donna found herself pulling her jacket tighter as she and Harvey strolled leisurely. Everything in the city was so festive this time of year. The iron railings that lined the paths were decorated with soft white lights. Sparkly, decorative snowflakes hung from the lamp posts and from her vantage point Donna could see the skaters twirling around one of the ice rinks across the park.
"So, how was your stupid show?" Harvey asks.
"It was actually really good, you should've stayed. I bet you would have enjoyed it."
"Doubtful."
After their dinner, Donna asked Harvey if he wanted to join her in watching, but he politely declined and claimed he wanted to have an early night. She knew he really went home and worked. It was something he tended to do near the holidays; overwork himself to distract from the fact that he would likely be spending them alone.
They're coming up on the edge of the park as Donna briefly explains the plot of last night's episode and Harvey pretends to be amused, though she can tell he's simply humoring her.
"It's just not fair. Michelle's life is so glamorous."
"Your life is pretty glamorous," Harvey points out.
"I'm not saying it's not… It's just… I don't know, watching that episode made me realize I want so many things out of life."
"Like?"
"Well, last night they just spontaneously made a trip to Tiffany's to pick out a gift for Mr. Shawn's mother."
"You want to go to Tiffany's?"
"Not exactly… Michelle is just so spontaneous, she never says no and it makes for these amazing memories, I guess I just want to be more like that. I suppose I want to be the type of person that can make spontaneous decisions and memories."
Harvey shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Despite thinking this show that Donna and Rachel were watching was a ridiculous over-romanticized way to sell women a version of true love that failed to exist in real life, he understood where Donna was coming from.
Over the past year, he often found himself wishing he could be more like the fictional idols from his childhood, in the sense that he wished he'd been more spontaneous and made more rash decisions solely because they seemed like fun.
"Sorry, I sound crazy," she apologizes.
"Not at all. I get it. Sometimes I think it's easy to forget that we can do things because they seem like fun, not because we're driven by some motive or purpose."
"Next year I'm going to try and keep that in mind."
"Why not start now?" Harvey asks. They'd reached the edge of the park and he was grinning towards the shop on the corner of 5th Avenue.
"Tiffany's?" she asks.
"I've actually been meaning to stop in and get something for Jessica."
Donna smiles and links her arm through Harvey's elbow as they cross the street. They didn't often touch, and the sensation she feels even through their winter coats serves as a reminder as to why, but she dismisses the feeling.
She beams as they make their way towards the store, exterior decorated in hundreds of blue and white lights. A familiar giddy feeling takes over her gut, one she experienced when watching Michelle and Mr. Shawn walk into Tiffany's the night before. There was just something about the city at Christmas time.
.
The Twelve Days of Christmas
Chapter 2: A walk in the park and a trip to Tiffany's
"What about this one?" Michelle asks. She's pointing into a large glass display case that contains an assortment of silver bracelets.
"I'm not sure she'd wear a bracelet," Mr. Shawn replies as he slowly marches over to her, hand planted firmly beneath his chin.
"You weren't sure she'd wear a necklace either. Remind me again why we came to a jewellery store?"
"It was your idea!"
"You asked me to help pick a gift for your mother. The only things I know about her is that she attends those high society tea's and that she wears a lot of beige. I figured you couldn't go wrong with Tiffany's. What did you get her last year?"
"I got her this antique set of tea cups," he huffs.
"What about this?" Michelle asks, pointing to a small circular pendant hanging on a slim chain.
"That could work," he says. "Can we have a look at it?" he asks the saleswoman.
"A lovely selection sir," the woman says as she removes the pendant from the display case. "Would the Mrs. like to try it on? Or should I wrap it up?"
"Oh, I'm not… we're not… together," Michelle blushes. She looks over and catches Mr. Shawn doing the same.
"Oh I'm so sorry. I just assumed…"
"It's alright. We'll take it packaged up, please," Mr. Shawn interrupts. Michelle flashes him a timid smile and the two of them wait in silence for the woman to return. Michelle awkwardly drums her fingers against the counter while looking around until Mr. Shawn clears his throat and catches her attention.
"Ridiculous, isn't it?" he scoffs with a semi-laugh. "Her thinking we're together."
"Oh absolutely," Michelle replies with a forced enthusiasm. The two of them chuckle softly before silence once again consumes the space between them. He seems to be standing closer to her than she remembered and suddenly it's harder to breath.
She locks eyes with his and forces herself to expel a breath while a strand of hair falls forward and into her face. His eyes roam her face for silent permission, one she grants without hesitation, and he reaches forward to tuck the strand back into place. Time stands still and for a moment, she thinks they're the only people in the room. He's standing close enough that she can smell his cologne and feel the cold winter air that is still lingering on his jacket.
"Absolutely ridiculous," he says in a near whisper, before stepping back and breaking the trance. She stares after him while he retrieves the bag from the saleswoman. While his words said absolutely ridiculous, his eyes and the hammering in her chest said something else.
.
.
Donna takes in the blue and silver Christmas tree as she and Harvey make their way through the revolving doors and into the lobby of Tiffany's. It had been years since she'd been to this location and it never failed to amaze her just how large it was. Everything inside the room sparkled, from the jewels in the display cabinets to the tinsel hanging from the ceiling. Holly Golightly was on to something, it was nearly impossible to be sad while at Tiffany's.
She follows Harvey across the sales floor and into the elevator where the women asks what floor they'll be heading to.
"Two?" Harvey shrugs.
"Oh, congratulations!" the worker gushes, "I think you'll find something you absolutely love. All of our rings are gorgeous!"
Donna glares at Harvey with wide eyes but he avoids her gaze and does his best to stare straight ahead and keep an emotionless face. When they step off the elevator, she immediately smacks his arm and asks why the hell he chose the floor filled with engagement rings. He doesn't answer, instead he chuckles and turns to face her.
"Honestly, I had no idea what this floor was. I just guessed a random number," he admits.
"We're supposed to be going to the third floor to pick a gift."
"Okay, no big deal we'll just get on the next elevator up," he shrugs.
"Hello sir," a young man smiles as he approaches them. "Is there anything I can help you find?"
"Actually…" Harvey begins to explain, but is promptly cut off by Donna.
"Actually, yes," she beams. She steps closer to Harvey and loops her arm over his elbow, watching as his brows scrunch in confusion. "My fiancé and I are looking for a ring."
Harvey catches on quickly, but rather than out Donna for the charade, he panics with her touch and nods at the worker. The worker introduces himself as Jeremy, and leads them over to a display case filled with engagement rings.
"Did you have a specific cut in mind?" he asks Donna.
"I'm thinking something square cut, white gold band, of course."
"Naturally," Jeremy nods. He leads Donna over to another case along the far wall, Harvey following close behind.
"White gold?" he whispers.
"Let a girl dream," she says, tugging him forward.
Jeremy begins to explain the difference between two of the rings that had caught Donna's eye, and removes each from the display case so that she can try them on. With a flashy diamond on her left hand, Donna turns to face Harvey with a massive grin.
"What do you think honey," she smirks, "is this me? Or is it too flashy?"
Harvey stares, blinks twice and swallows hard before he manages to squeak out "it's nice," and Donna returns her attention to the other ring.
There was something about Donna standing in front of him, trying on diamond rings, that tightened the knot in his stomach. Harvey never really pictured himself getting married. Sure, there had been a time in his life when he thought it might be in the cards for him, but as time wore on he realized he'd never met a woman he wanted to spend his life with. That is, he'd never met a woman who romantically wanted to spend her life with him. He'd met one woman he knew he'd be content spending the rest of time with, and she was jokingly trying on engagement rings right in front of him.
He knows it's ridiculous, to even fantasize about what could be with Donna. She had her rule and it was the one rule in life he was determined to follow. It meant a lot to her and she meant a lot to him, so he kept his mouth shut and pretended that the relationship they had was enough. He knew deep down that perhaps he wanted something more.
Harvey watches as Donna continues to interact with Jeremy, excitedly slipping rings on her fingers and his heart hammers against his chest.
There was something so magnificently beautiful about the way Donna interacted with others, something magnetic.
Snapping out of his spiraling train of thought, he walks up behind Donna and allows his palm to settle on her hip. She wanted him to play the part, and that was exactly what he intended on doing. He feels her stiffen at the contact, but within seconds she relaxes into his touch and smiles over her shoulder at him.
"What about this one?"
"It's pretty, but not as pretty as you," he beams.
Damn it, he was good. She was wondering when he was going to stop sulking and play along.
"You're sweet," she replies. "Honestly, none of these really feel like me. I think we're going to keep looking," she informs Jeremy before thanking him for all his help.
With her arms looped through Harvey's, the pair make their way back to the elevator where Donna requests the third floor. As soon as they step out of the elevator, Donna starts laughing.
"I can't believe you made me do that," Harvey pouts.
"If you'd have played along it would have been over sooner," she says. "Admit it, that was fun."
Harvey just shakes his head.
"Shall we go find something for Jessica so we can get out of here?" she asks.
"Please."
The pair browse through the store, finding nothing of interest until Harvey calls Donna over to a set of wine glasses displayed next to an extremely overpriced bottle of wine.
"What about these? She can keep them in her office."
"Wine glasses?" Donna asks, "when have you ever seen Jessica Pearson drink wine at the office?"
"Okay fine. What about these?" Harvey directs her attention to a set of crystal glasses.
"You mean the glasses that you got for Scottie?" she smirks and places a hand on her hip, "or should I say that I got for Scottie."
"Right," he muses. "I never did ask what her middle name was."
Donna shakes her head, not the least bit surprised, and allows herself to laugh. She hated that she'd forced herself to be so welcoming towards Scottie, when really she never thought that she and Harvey were a good fit together. She did it for Harvey, that's what she told herself every time she forced a smile and complemented Scottie's outfits. It was for Harvey. The glasses, however, were a metaphorical olive branch. At the time, she thought that maybe Scottie and Harvey would make a run at a real relationship, and she wanted to be on Scottie's good side if things happened to work out.
"I think Jessica would like them," Harvey says, oblivious to the Scottie spiral Donna found herself in.
"I'll take them," he motions to the salesmen.
"Are you going to have them engraved?"
"Of course. Could you make that J-L-P," Harvey informs the man who nods and jots down the letters."
"L?" Donna asks, surprised that Harvey knows Jessica's middle initial.
"Believe it or not, I listen."
"Sometimes," she smirks.
She spends the remainder of the time that they wait for the glasses thinking about the fact that Harvey remembered Jessica's middle name and not Scottie's.
She knows he knows her middle name, he's used it to tease her on several occasions (thanks to her mother who had to call her by her full name when Harvey came to dinner). She wonders if maybe he only pays attention to the middle names of those he considered to be his close friends. Jessica was his mentor, it made sense that he knew her middle name. Mike was his associate, they signed the same forms all the time, but she - she was nothing but his secretary, and yet he never forgot her middle name, her birthday, or the way she took her coffee.
Harvey returns with the wrapped gift before Donna can venture deeper into the analysis of what this all meant, and the pair head back down to the main floor and into the crowded city street.
"I guess we should get back to the office," she says.
"Probably. This was really fun, we should do it again sometime," he suggests.
"We should shop for fake engagement rings?"
"We should do something….festive."
"Harvey Specter wants to do something festive, now I've seen it all," she teases him as she pulls her gloves on.
"I'm serious. You said you wanted to make more spontaneous decisions and so do I. What if tomorrow after work we do one of those mainstream holiday traditions you love so much?"
"And you won't be a Grinch about it?"
"I'll try my best to fake a smile the entire time."
"Alright," she says, a smile breaking out over her face. "Why don't you come over tomorrow night and we can figure something out?"
"Sounds like a plan to me."
The pair walks back to the office just as the snow flurries begin, and by the time they reach the lobby, Donna's hair is covered in a sheet of white.
The rest of the work day passes quickly, and Donna finds herself wrapped in a throw blanket next to Rachel watching the day's episode in her apartment before she knows it.
Rachel leaves shortly after the episode, leaving Donna alone with her thoughts and a half-full glass of wine.
She settles back down on the sofa and changes the channel, putting on a Christmas movie she'd see a thousand times.
Rachel had said something earlier in the evening that made Donna stop and think.
"You know, you and Harvey kind of remind me of Michelle and Mr. Shawn, in a weird way."
She's been replaying the sentence over in her mind since Rachel vocalized the thought. All day her mind had been wandering off and getting lost while trying to over-analyze her non-existent relationship with Harvey. She was hoping her evening with Rachel would take her mind off of things but here she was, right back in square one.
Michelle and Mr. Shawn were co-workers, sure. But what she and Harvey had was nothing like what Michelle and Mr. Shawn had. She and Harvey were friends, they had a friendship that went above and beyond their working relationship, and they genuinely cared about one another. They knew things about each other, they supported one another, and damn it, maybe Rachel had a point. It was obvious that Michelle had feelings for her boss. Otherwise, she wouldn't go above and beyond for him the way she did. What wasn't obvious was whether or not those feelings were reciprocated, and Donna, though she spent years denying it, had feelings for Harvey. The kind of feelings that friends don't have. She just wasn't sure he felt the same way.
Some days, when he held her gaze and their fingers brushed while she passed him a file, or when they shared drinks in his office after hours, she could convince herself that he felt it too. Other days, when he came in late because he'd over slept after spending the night with some nameless twenty-something year old, she wasn't so sure. Maybe she and Harvey were like Michelle and Mr. Shawn. Perhaps, she was destined to be on the giving end of a one-sided love story, just like Michelle.
Donna first knew she was in love with Harvey a year after she started working for him. It was a gloomy Tuesday and they were working late at the DA's office, shamelessly flirting as they so often did when it hit her. She felt something for him. She wasn't sure if it was the way his smile made her go weak in the knees or if it had something to do with his arrogant cocky attitude that she found oddly charming, but she did know that watching as he bit down on the end of his pen from where she was seated across from him, that she felt something she couldn't describe for him.
After much deliberation, she forced herself to suppress the thought and it didn't resurface until years later when Harvey was getting serious with a woman named Zoe that the little voice in her head screamed, you love him.
From that moment on, the thought lingered in the back of her mind like a bomb waiting to be imploded. Only, it had been dismantled. She never acted on it, never even dared to voice the thought out loud, but on some days, like today, when it seemed like everything was just within their reach, she found herself wishing she'd told him how she felt.
What if, while they were laughing about something pointless, she were to sigh and simply state, "I love you." What was the worst thing that could happen? Well, first, she supposed he could freak out and she would ruin their relationship. She would likely have to find a new job. Maybe even move. She doubts he would say it back. She knows Harvey well enough to know he doesn't feel the same way. And if he did, he didn't know it yet.
Sitting alone on her sofa, glass of wine in hand, she allows herself to wonder what would happen if she said it. What would happen if she finally made it real, for both him and herself?
She knew she didn't want to take a risk when she knew Harvey wasn't on the same level, but sometimes it was nice to tempt fate by thinking about the endless possibilities that came with the what if. Her life was certainly no television show. No one was going to come knocking on her door with a long awaited confession of love, that wasn't how real life worked. She knew that. But damn, wouldn't it be nice if just this once her life could be more like a romantic comedy. Then again, Mr. Shawn would never perform a grand gesture, even though both he and the audience knew he was in love with Michelle. Donna sighs and supposes even fairytales can't all have happy endings. At least she could settle down beneath a fuzzy blanket and enjoy her glass of wine while she watched the third episode of The Twelve Days of Christmas and once again lived vicariously through the lives of fictional characters.