On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...
A massive Christmas tree
Tinsel, bulb, tinsel, repeat. Donna works in a clockwise direction as she and Louis set up the Christmas tree in the firm lobby. When Donna arrived at the office that morning, she found Louis standing proudly next to a Douglas fir taller than him. They'd been decorating for nearly an hour, and Louis had finally decided they were on the right track and had relinquished control of the tinsel to Donna.
"I think I'm just about done," Donna says, peering around the tree at Louis.
"Me too," he nods. "Every time I have to decorate this stupid tree I'm extra thankful I'm Jewish."
"Oh?"
"Decorating a tree is such a pain in the ass. We just spent a good part of the morning hanging little metallic balls on tree branches that can hardly support their weight. I can't imagine having to do this at home. Hannuakuah preparation is simple. Boom. Menorah and we're essentially ready to roll."
"Louis, I've been to your house during the holidays and nothing about the way you decorate is simple," Donna points out. "Wait, if you hate decorating the tree so much, why did you volunteer to organize the party?"
"Do we really trust a party like this in the hands of one of the imbeciles around here?" he shrugs. He hangs one final ornament on the tree and steps back to admire his handiwork. "There. Done."
"I think it looks good," Donna says.
"You don't think it's off center?" Louis asks as he gets closer to examine the tree, thumb stroking his chin.
"Looks perfect to me," she says. She hadn't even given the tree a second glance, she just wanted to get back to her desk.
As they're packing the spare ornaments back into boxes, Jessica steps off the elevator and greets them both with a smile. "Looks good," she remarks, "A little too far to the left."
With a smirk, she turns on her heel and begins on her way to her office, leaving a flustered Louis with Donna.
He sighs, tosses an extra strand of tinsel into an open box and throws his hands over his head. "I need a day," he groans as he steps onto the vacant elevator and leaves Donna to finish putting the remaining ornaments away. At least with Louis out of the way, she's able to quickly clean up and put tree decorating behind her. She'd already decorated the one she bought for her apartment, and this was no longer something she wanted to think about until next year.
"What's he so upset about?" Harvey asks, coming up behind her and nodding in the direction of Louis' dramatic exit.
"What isn't he upset about," she laughs, "he's up in arms worried we won't get everything done for the party and the tree is too far to the left."
"It is a little off center," he teases and is met with a prompt smack on the forearm.
"Ouch," he whines.
"That didn't hurt, and if it did you should really start hitting the gym more."
"I'll have you know I hit the gym plenty."
She knew. Donna would never admit to noticing Harvey's physique, but she wasn't blind and those morning runs and boxing sessions were definitely working. Not that she noticed.
"I don't suppose you've put up your tree yet?" Donna asks.
"Nope," he replies, "I don't need a tree."
"You're not getting a tree?"
"I never get a tree, why ruin a perfectly good tradition?"
"Wow you really are…"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence with the Grinch!"
"Well, you don't have a tree…"
"Why do I need a tree? I'm the only one that will see it."
He had a good point. She put a tree up each year but it was because it made her apartment seem homey and it reminded her of how much she loved the holiday. She supposes if she didn't put a tree up, no one would ever know.
"It's festive," she insists. "It'll bring you some holiday spirit."
Harvey glares at her without saying a word.
"What if we get you one after work?"
"You want to go Christmas tree shopping after work?"
"Sure, why not? But this doesn't count as festive fun."
"Of course it doesn't," he teases, "this isn't fun."
Donna leans over and once again smacks Harvey on the forearm, this time with far more force. He lets out a shocked whimper and extends his lower lip in a pout.
"Fine, I'll get a tree. But I'm not touching a single decoration, that's all up to you."
"I can handle that," she says with a satisfied grin. "Shouldn't you be in the conference room?"
"I was on my way when I got distracted by the slanted tree."
"I'm telling Louis you said that."
"I was kind of hoping you would," he grins, leaving her to continue cleaning.
.
.
After work, Donna and Harvey head to the small tree lot located up the street from Harvey's apartment. Harvey manages to convince Donna they only need a medium sized tree, and Donna excitedly talks about how much she enjoyed picking out the family tree as a child.
They wind their way through the slim aisles, Harvey with his arms folded across his chest, Donna with hers stuffed into the pockets of her red wool coat. It was an unusually warm winter afternoon in the city, and for the first time all week it wasn't snowing. Donna gently tugs on Harvey's elbow and leads him to the next aisle, where they begin to search through the medium sized trees for what she keeps referring to as "the one." He's not sure what the perfect tree looks like, but he assumes Donna knows what she's looking for.
"God," she groans as the sounds of Last Christmas begin to play over the small box speakers suspended on wood beams around the tree lot. "Why are most Christmas songs so sad."
"I thought you loved Christmas music?"
"I do, it's just sometimes I wonder why so many of the songs are so depressing. It's supposed to be a happy holiday and yet…"
"There are some happy Christmas songs," he says. "They just aren't very good."
"Not a fan of Christmas music?"
"You already know the answer," he replies, "I like some of it."
"Do you have a favourite song?" Donna asks as she begins to sift through a few of the trees on display. Harvey follows close behind and watches as she inspects each fir.
"White Christmas," he replies almost immediately.
She stares at him quizzically and waits for the explanation she knows is coming.
"It was the only Christmas song my dad's band covered but every year they played it during their last gig before he came home for the holidays and he always made sure Marcus and I were at the show, regardless of where it was. My dad hated Christmas music, but he claimed that song was special."
"I bet he sounded incredible, his voice was made for a song like that," Donna says.
"I have a recording somewhere, I'll have to show it to you."
"I'd love that," Donna smiles. "This is the one!"
Donna grabs a tree hidden in behind a lot of others and tugs on it to free it from the string preventing it from tipping. Harvey reaches out to help, hand grazing the back of hers as he helps her steady the five foot tree.
"This one?"
"This one," she nods, "It's perfect."
"What makes this one any different from the others we've seen."
"I can't explain," she says, "I just know this is the one."
"Alright, let's take it," he beams. He trusted Donna's judgment. She was always right, even when he hated that she was.
.
.
Bringing the tree up to Harvey's apartment is much easier than expected; though the help of the doormen Harvey tips is likely the reason.
The doormen set the tree down in the basin Harvey carries and see themselves out while Donna steps out of her coat and lays it over the back of Harvey's sofa.
She smiles to herself as she looks around and spots the cactus she once gifted Harvey on the counter. Nothing in Harvey's apartment ever changed. She admired his dedication to consistency. It once dawned on her that perhaps he feared change rather than favoured consistency, but she quickly dismissed the thought when she began to think about how it applied to their relationship and instead liked to think of Harvey as a consistent person.
Harvey removes his own coat and places it next to Donna's before offering her a drink and switching on the fireplace. She basks in the immediate warmth of it, running her hands over her face as she frees her hair from her hat. She's still dressed in her office attire, not having had time to go home and change before they headed to get the tree, and she shivers.
"Do you want to borrow a sweater while you warm up?" Harvey offers.
She debates declining the offer, knowing that the sweater will smell of him but the goosebumps lining her limbs prevent her from getting to choose.
Without waiting for her response, Harvey retreats back into his room and returns with a Harvard crew neck.
"Here," he says, tossing it towards her. "It even matches your dress."
He was right. The grey sweater with the maroon lettering matched the maroon colour of her dress. She pulls it over her head and immediately wraps her arms around her torso. "Thank you."
"It suits you," he remarks.
"I basically went to Harvard Law."
"Don't you have a BA in musical theatre?"
"And I still manage to do your job for you," she winks. She likes that they're comfortable enough to tease each other.
Harvey chuckles, shakes his head and excuses himself to fetch them some hot drinks. She tugs the collar up towards her nose and relaxes into the sweater. She was right, it did smell like sandalwood, aftershave and Harvey.
Once they successfully secure the tree into the stand and Donna arranges the brand new tree skirt around the base, she and Harvey begin to sift through the two boxes of random decorations he had.
He insisted they not purchase new ones with the tree because he "had some somewhere" and upon unearthing two battered boxes filled with miscellaneous shapes and coloured lights, Donna was beginning to regret not insisting they purchase new ones.
She begins to sort through the containers, placing the lights on the counter top and the bulbs in a seperate box as Harvey overlooks.
"Have you always enjoyed decorating like this?" Harvey asks. He's standing between the island and the couch, watching Donna's hands as they work.
"For as long as I can remember," she says. She holds up a massive red bulb and twirls it in her palm. The light from the fixture catches and it reflects across her cheek.
"When I was a little girl, we had this kitten, Mittens. He was this scruffy grey old thing with white paws that looked exactly like mittens, hence the name. I remember one year my mom and I convinced my dad to get a real Christmas tree and Mittens took it upon himself to climb into the tree and knock every single ornament down, including the family heirlooms. It was years before we got a real tree again."
"The cat didn't go after the fake tree?" he asks.
"For some reason, no. Only the real one. It must have been the smell."
"I didn't know you were a cat person," Harvey states.
"Who do you think cat-sits for Louis?" she smirks.
"No way!"
"Way," she says, "I haven't thought about Mittens in a long time. Wow. I miss that little guy."
"What happened to him?"
"We had to give him up when my dad lost his job. One of our neighbours ended up taking him in."
"I'm so sorry."
"It was a long time ago," Donna shrugs.
Harvey rounds the counter and fishes around in the box of decorations until he triumphantly lifts a small red ball and smiles at Donna.
She watches in silence as he walks towards the tree, and cocks her head to silently ask what he's doing.
"For Mittens," he explains. He secures the red orb onto a branch and steps back to admire his own handiwork.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't just put an ornament on the tree before we put the lights in because that was extremely sweet."
"Who says the lights have to go first?"
"Everyone who has ever decorated a tree," she laughs. "Now help me unravel this strand."
They manage to unravel two strands of lights, one red and one green, and Harvey checks to see if they're working while Donna polishes off her coffee.
"Bad news," he calls. "Only half of the green ones are working."
"That just means one of the bulbs is dead, we just need to find and remove it," she says. She places her mug back down and moves to help him.
Donna crouches down next to the lights, Harvey's sweater covering her knees. She unscrews the first three bulbs, one at a time, but the second half of the strand remains dull.
"Maybe we could just use them like that?" he suggests.
She glares and removes another bulb. "If you helped me this would go much faster," she says.
They work to remove each of the bulbs, waiting with baited breath to see if the removal will illuminate the rest of the strand. Harvey kneels on the floor next to Donna, his knee brushing against hers with each movement.
Donna sighs as they near the end of the strand, ready to deem the set as hopeless when Harvey removes one final bulb and the entire strand is illuminated in green.
"It works!" she exclaims, excitedly tossing her arms around Harvey's shoulders. He embraces her, palms settling on her back before the excitement wears off and they blush and pull apart.
She looks at the ground and mumbles an apology that he accepts with a whisper as he scrambles to his feet.
They didn't touch.
It served as a reminder that try as they might to ignore it, there was an undeniable physical attraction between them.
"I'll help put them on the tree, if you want," he says. She notices he isn't looking her in the eye and wonders if he felt the spark when they touched.
"Sure," she nods, rising to her feet.
They work silently while putting the lights in the tree until Harvey slips and nearly takes out the tree and the sound of their laughter breaks through the awkward silence. The next hour is spent decorating the tree and sharing stories from their childhood Christmas'. At nearly 7pm, Donna puts on her coat and prepares to head home for dinner. She thanks Harvey for a fun afternoon and promises to return the sweatshirt he insists she wear home the next day.
Once home, Donna settles down on her sofa in Harvey's sweatshirt, and turns on the new episode of The Twelve Days of Christmas. She knows she should take the sweater off and wash it, but it smells like him and she feels at home cozied up in it.
.
The Twelve Days of Christmas
Chapter 4: A massive Christmas tree
She had one job - get the tree for the office lobby and somehow she'd managed to screw up in every way imaginable. She ordered the wrong type, from the wrong company in the wrong size. Mr. Shawn had been out of town less than 48 hours and she'd managed to screw up the only thing he told her to have done by the time he got back.
During her first year at the company, Michelle was surprised to learn that Mr. Shawn was a huge fan of Christmas trees. She always imagined that workaholics despised Christmas traditions, but her boss was the exact opposite. While he wasn't a fan of the holiday itself, he was the first one to suggest they decorate and play festive music in the office elevators, and he was obsessed with the tree that proudly stood in the lobby of the offices.
This year, he'd left Michelle in charge of getting the tree while he and his intern went out of town on business. Michelle was quickly learning that ordering a tree was not as simple as it seemed. First, there was finding a company willing to deliver to the 63rd floor of a corporate office in the heart of Manhattan. Then, there was the tree type and size.
Michelle had a fake tree at home, a dingy little plastic thing she'd got on sale when it was out of season. She had no idea what size and type of tree would look best in the lobby, so she made an educated guess and boy, was she uneducated when it came to trees.
The delivery boy who arrived after office hours had a hard time lugging the massive 8 foot tree into the elevator, and called her to inform her he was stuck in the lobby with the tree. She heads down to the lobby to investigate and finds a young man standing next to a massive pale green tree.
"What the hell is that thing?" she asks as she approaches.
"Your tree?" he replies, confused.
"Why is it white? Aren't all Christmas trees green?"
"No, and this is the type you requested."
Strike one. Shit, she thinks to herself.
"We have a problem though," the boy adds.
You bet we do, she thinks.
"It wont fit in the elevator," he explains.
She eyes the tree and sighs, this was definitely too large for the lobby. "What if we bend it?"
"You want to bend the tree?" he asks.
"Yeah, what if we just bend the top down."
"I don't think it will look very nice if we do that," he replies hesitantly.
"It'll be fine," she insists as she helps him move the tree towards the elevator.
It wasn't fine. It was far from fine, but she had been determined to make it work and now she was staring at a hardy green Christmas tree covered in strands of multi-coloured lights, half of which were blinking, a star hanging far to the left off the bent tree top.
She places a few final ornaments on the lower branches and steps back to admire her work. Blinking, broken lights aside, it didn't look half bad. Especially if you squinted and tilted your head.
Who was she kidding, it looked nothing like the proper trimmed tree they had the year before and Mr. Shawn was going to blow his top when he saw this. Her only hope was to pick up a new tree and some new, working, lights on her way into the office the next day. Hopefully she could have it set up before Mr. Shawn came in. She knew his flight was scheduled to land earlier that afternoon, but she didn't expect him in the office until the following day.
She folds her arms as she examines the tree, racking her brain for anything that could possibly make it look nicer when the elevator dings and two small children step off it in front of Mr. Shawn.
"Wow! Look at the tree daddy!" the younger blonde she knew as Sadie squealed. "It's so pretty."
She looks up and catches Mr. Shawn's eye. He's holding his oldest, Rebecca's hand and leading the two girls out of the elevator into the lobby.
"You're back," she says.
"I am, I have to grab something from my office before I bring the girls home," he explains. "You put the tree up?" It's said as more of a question than a statement and she wonders how long it'll be before he makes a comment about the colour and size.
"You did that?" Rebecca asks, looking at Michelle.
"I did, would you girls like to help while your dad gets something from his office?"
"Can we daddy?!" they yell in unison.
"Of course," he says, mouthing a thank you to Michelle before quickly venturing to his office to retrieve what he came in for.
"Here you go girls," Michelle smiles as she hands each of them an ornament to be hung on the tree. She watches with amusement as they decide on the best places to put the shiny silver balls.
"Are you going to come to the Christmas party again?" Rebecca asks Michelle. "Because I remember you came last time with a really pretty dress and you gave really good presents."
Michelle smiles at the memory. She'd been pleasantly surprised to discover that Mr. Shawn brought his kids to the yearly staff party, and she'd purchased each of them a doll that they spent the evening showing off. Of course, she'd seen them since the Christmas party, but each time they referred to her as the lady who gave them the dolls, and she didn't mind one bit.
"I am going to go to the party," she leans down and tells the small girl.
"Daddy got us new dresses to wear," Rebecca explains.
"Mine's pink," Sadie chimes in. She's still mesmerized by the lights on the tree, while Rebecca has shifted her focus to Michelle who has squatted down to look her in the eye while she spoke.
"Mine's purple," Rebecca says.
"Well, I bet you two are going to look just like princesses," Michelle grins.
"Just like you!" Rebecca beams.
"I'm not a princess," Michelle explains.
"But you could be! You have pretty hair like a princess and dresses like a princess," the young girl explains.
"And you're pretty like a princess," Sadie adds.
"I'm pretty like a princess? That's so sweet," Michelle gushes.
"Even daddy says so," Rebecca brags.
"What do I say?" a voice booms from behind them and they all turn to find Mr. Shawn in the lobby holding a folder.
"That Michelle is pretty," Sadie informs him.
Michelle looks down at the floor before daring to let herself look at her boss. He's blushing and fumbling to say something.
"He told us that you're the prettiest girl at work," Rebecca adds, which only causes the shade of pink on both Mr. Shawn and Michelle's cheeks to darken.
"Alright," he claps, "I think it's time we head home girls, say goodnight to Michelle."
"Goodnight," they both sing, oblivious to what has just happened. Rebecca runs to give Michelle a hug while Sadie stands by her father and helps press the elevator button.
With the girls between him and the elevator, Mr. Shawn turns to face Michelle and whispers. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"You didn't," she smiles softly. "They're so sweet."
"About what they said—" he begins but the chime of the elevator cuts him off.
Rebecca tugs him forward and into the car, urging him to hurry so they don't miss it.
"They weren't wrong, you are," he manages to say before the elevator door closes.
Michelle watches as the girls wave, hearing his words ground her and she stands staring at the closed elevator doors for several minutes before unplugging the tree and heading to pack up her own items.
You are, she hears her say over and over as she moves. She's so preoccupied with how she should interpret what just happened she doesn't notice he never said anything about the disaster of a tree.