Ground Hog Day - does it classify as a Christmas movie? I'm going with yes :)
This fic is set at the end of season 8 and pre-cannon. It'll be a 3 part-er for over the holiday season! I hope you enjoy!
Happy reading and happy Christmas! As always it would be lovely to hear what you think. Have a fabulous holiday season! Bella xx
Disclaimer: I don't own suits and I don't own Groundhog Day! Alas.
Part 1: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
"It's not all about you Donna." He says without conviction and refusing to meet her loaded gaze.
"Isn't it?" She pauses, looking up towards the ceiling to try and stop any tears from falling. "You're a selfish coward. You always have been."
With his tie askew and a half-dressed model in her twenties still sat on the bathroom sink watching the scene unfold before her, he reaches for the half empty whiskey glass placed next to her and sloshes the contents in his unsteady hand.
It's then that the redhead in the room looks at him with something in her eyes that he's never seen before. He lowers his gaze to the floor to escape the truth that's plain to see; contempt. It has the ability to knock the air from his lungs and shatter him into a thousand pieces.
She walks away and exits the room. And he wonders if this time, is truly the last time.
Earlier that day:
"Then put your little hand in mine. There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb. Babe, I got you babe."
"Rise and shine New Yorkers, it's Christmas eve, it's your last chance to finish your Christmas shopping."
The blaring radio wakes him from his restless sleep. He'd been a bad mood lately. That in itself was not unusual. He knew he could be prickly and unapproachable at times. He knew that over the years Donna had provided a buffer between his outburst and other people's reactions. That she had smoothed and softened his rough edges.
But this time it was different. He'd noticed the twitches, the little looks and mutters under the breath of those around him. The interns cowered a little more and Samantha didn't bother to modulate the volume on the quiet "fuck yous", as she walked out his office.
And Donna - where Donna just a few months ago would have come to his office to talk some sense into him, has instead given him a wide birth. And that thought alone, has only made his mood worse.
He knew he needed to snap out of it. Missed opportunities and half spoken truths had wrapped themselves around him so tight that nothing could lift the veil of anger and bitterness that had descended. It was those half truths and missed opportunities that made him toss and turn at night and reinforced the tiredness that fed his short temper and self enforced solitude.
He hears his phone ring and wonders who the hell it could be at this ungodly hour. He reaches over blindly to his bedside table to shut off the offending object, but in his sleep deprived haste manages to knock his alarm clock to the floor in the process. "Fuck" he mutters loudly into the early morning silence as he hears the object smash into a dozen pieces. He looks down at his phone and moves to sit up in bed before answering the call. Reading the name that appears, he figures no good news comes from the other side of the country at this hour of the day.
"Either you've landed yourself in prison again or this is an intervention." Harvey says with a sleepy rasp and unconcealed irritation.
"Apparently someone needs to tell you to stop being a jackass, and unfortunately, that someone is me." Mikes answers not bothering with pleasantries.
"Let me guess . . .Donna?" He says her name in a way that betrays just how much he hopes she care enough to complain about his behaviour to his best friend.
"Louis actually." Harvey simply huffs in disappointment and frustration. "Is everything OK?" Mike pushes back.
"Everything is fine Mike. But maybe Louis should spend more time worrying about getting some new clients instead of worrying about how I'm feeling." Mike can hear how tired he despite being a thousand miles away.
"Whether you like it or not, he cares about you. We all do."
"Maybe you shouldn't." Harvey was many things, aggressive, stubborn, dismissive. But in his voice he detected sadness and the warning signs of the fight within him fading, as he loses his grip on the one thing he'd never admit meant the most to him.
"You need me to take out a hit on Mr tall, dark and lamp shades?" Even Harvey has to laugh at that.
"We're not talking . . that's not what this is about." He says knowing exactly what Mike is implying.
"Yes it is. But I wasn't expecting you to admit it. You fancy coming to Seattle for the holidays, you could get a flight tonight?" Mike offers, hoping his best friend will take him up on his offer.
"Things aren't that bad." Harvey says sarcastically, and Mike's relieved to hear his best friend sound a little more like his usual self.
"So someone from this year's Victoria's Secrets catalogue and a bottle of Scotch it is."
"Actually, I'm going to see my mom and brother."
"Well don't ruin their Christmas with all your brooding."
"Don't ruin Rachel's Christmas with your face and your bad taste in gifts." Mike just laughs down the line. He knows his friend can be a blind as fuck ass hole at times, but he misses him. He misses their partnership at work and the trust they shared. And he worries every day that without him and Jessica, and Rachel and now maybe even Donna around to push him to be happy, that happiness in the form they know he deserves, might completely evade him.
"Try and be less of a dick. It's what Santa would want." Mike concludes.
"Can't make any promises."
"Happy Christmas Harvey."
"Happy Christmas Mike. Give my love to Rachel." And with that Harvey hangs up. As he finally gets up, he hears the pieces of the broken alarm clock under his feet. "God dammit" he shouts into the empty apartment. Merry fucking Christmas, he thinks to himself.
He stands in the elevator with a coffee warming up his hands in the cold December weather. As the floors climb one by one, he's beginning to realise that the place that once felt like home, filled with the people he cared about and that cared about him, is turning into a place he simply goes to work.
As he steps out of the elevator the first thing he sees is a slightly manic looking Louis, directing two exhausted looking interns who are hanging Christmas decorations. Harvey grips the coffee in his hand a little tighter as he tries to slip by Louis unnoticed.
"Harvey!"
"Damnit." Harvey mutters under his breath.
"Oh thank god you're here, I need your advice. Where do you think we should put this?"
"Well I have some ideas where we could stick it." Harvey says smirking at him.
"Harvey this is important!" Louis implores.
"Actually Louis, it's really not. It's about as far removed from important as we could get." Harvey glances towards the two interns who look like they're about to pass out from holding a wreath above their heads for the past few minutes, while Louis procrastinates on where to place it.
"I think a little to the right, and it'll be perfect." He hears the object of his affections, his dreams and increasingly his nightmares come to the rescue. The interns shift to the right with the wreath in hand, as Donna appears by their side.
"Perfect. It's perfect. Donna you're a Christmas angel." Louis gushes, wiping perspiration from his brow.
"Jesus, what do you put in his coffee in the morning." Harvey says to her.
"I don't make anyone's coffee around here." She says smirking and taking the coffee he bought out of his hand.
"Hey that's mine!" She just smirks up at him while she takes a sip and hums in appreciation. It's more arousing that it should be, and he quickly shifts his eyes back to Louis who is furiously sorting through another box of decorations on the floor. "Don't you have a boyfriend you can steal coffee from in the morning?" He doesn't know why he said that, imagining her mornings with Thomas Kessler is the last thing he wants to think or talk about.
"We don't have time for making coffee in the morning." It slips out before she has time to think and from the look on his face she wishes she could push the words back inside. It's a comment she'd have made to Rachel or Mike, but definitely not the man in front of her. The implication is clear as to why they don't have time to make coffee in the morning. And while he's already looked her straight in the eye and said he's happy for her, she watches every muscle in his body tense and his jaw tighten. There's an awkward pause for a few moment, neither quite sure how to steer the conversation back to safe waters.
"Louis, I think you've already reached perfection in here, why don't you start on the bullpen." She says offering them both an out.
"You're right, you're right, you're always right." He says breathlessly back at her. Harvey rolling his eyes while Louis rambles on. "So is Thomas still coming later to the party? I wanted to ask him where he bought the Chateau Neuf that he brought for dinner the other night. I know for a fact my wine dealer is charging me through the nose for the import on the '81." Louis concludes.
"Yes he's still coming. I'm sure he'll be delighted to talk to you about it." Harvey stands there wondering how soon he can leave the conversation. He also realises that his friends have a new reality that doesn't include him. Things are meant to be back to normal but they're not. She'd fallen in love and he'd just grown more angry. She no longer has the energy or the inclination to push him to give half answers and partial declarations. And he'd concluded that to keep what they'd managed to salvaged from the wreckage of the disaster that was Paula, that his distance not his closeness was what was needed. Seeing her shape a happier life without him, had cut him into a million tiny pieces.
It had meant dinners with Louis and Sheena that he wasn't invited to. It meant her leaving the office a little earlier and fewer drinks shared in the evenings. It had led to a distance that allowed for little more than passing pleasantries in the corridors or meetings.
If he thought about it too often it made him gasp for air. Like he hadn't just lost Rachel and Mike lately, but also Donna. But it was an agony of his own making. By giving her no choice but to resign, by avoiding her and closing himself off, and by never truly telling her what he wanted - her.
He could see that lately she'd taken all the energy she used to use to analyse, encourage, care for and protect him; and instead was pouring that energy into a man who was offering her a future and emotional availability.
"I have a meeting. I'll leave you guys to it." Harvey says turning around.
"Not before you. . . " Harvey turns back around towards Louis who is pointing above his head at a piece of mistletoe hanging precariously held in place with just a bit of sticky tape. When Harvey shifts his gaze from the offending plant back to Louis, Louis is looking excitedly and expectantly between Harvey and Donna.
"I'm not kissing you Louis." Harvey says frowning at the shorter man.
"Not me. . ." Louis declares, looking towards Donna.
"Uh . . Louis I think these are merely decorative. I think you have enough on your plate enforcing all the Christian and Jewish traditions, without enforcing the Pagan ones as well." Donna offers in a fluster. But before Louis has a chance to explain in greater detail the historical links between all religious festivals and traditions, she feels Harvey lean towards her. Her heart begins to thunder, her eyes flutter closed, and he places the softest kiss she's ever felt upon her cheek.
"Merry Christmas Donna." He whispers in her ear. By the time she opens her eyes again, he's already striding down the corridor towards his office.
Her eyes quickly dart to Louis, who's looking wide-eyed back at her.
"Right." Louis announces to the interns. "Go forth and decorate." Leaving a stunned Donna in the middle of the firm's Lobby.
It had always been their tradition. Unspoken, but a tradition nonetheless. Both of them would go to the Christmas eve party alone, so they could be together. They'd stay up drinking in his office until dawn and then go up to the roof. Surrounded by the falling snow they'd welcome Christmas by watching the sun rise. She'd always been the best part of Christmas for as long as he can remember. But this year would be different.
Now that he thinks about it, it was a foolish notion to think it wouldn't change this year. He'd secretly been hoping that the party might give them a chance to catch-up, to laugh, and maybe even sneak off to his office to share a drink and old stories. He realises now that it may never be like that again. That she was someone with a plus one. It leaves a bitter and distracting taste.
He's barely got through two legal briefs today. He'd read the same page over and over again, in the hope that the words might begin to rearrange themselves to make sense. But he's struggling to focus on anything other than the feel of her skin under his lips and the thought of her hand wrapped around Kessler's at this evening's Christmas party. This was a hell of his own making, and he can't see a way out.
He'd known deep down, since he'd sat opposite her at the diner and offered her a job rather than a date, that he loved her. But rules and boundaries and boss / secretary professionalism has provided a safety net from his own failures and vulnerabilities and her misplaced expectations and faith in him. He'd worked hard to keep her within reach but never touching distance. Over a decade later and he'd built a wall so thick with denial and excuses, that by the time he'd realised he couldn't live without her, he couldn't knock down the wall in time to stop her from falling in love with someone else.
With the day a lost cause, he throws on his coat and heads out of his office. It's 6pm and he's going for a drink. Anything to help blur the edges of an evening offering nothing but sharp edges. As he steps into the elevator, Louise shouts behind him.
"Harvey no being late or not showing up – tonight's important. For me and the firm.' Louis looks at him with hopeful eyes.
"I'll be there Louis." Harvey mutters as the doors shut behind him.
She should have seen it coming, is her first thought. She thought he'd grown-up, was her second. That he'd meant it when he said he was happy for her. She figured as he approached his 45th birthday that at least he'd have the common sense to not show up at all or sulk in the corner by the bar. Instead, he'd outdone himself. She could tell from his unsteady gait and his lopsided tie that he'd had more drinks than were necessary or advised before turning up to a Christmas party attended by your colleagues and your clients.
She looks at Thomas across the room, laughing, relaxed and lovely, and an unsettling feeling swirls around the pit of her stomach. Harvey likes a drink or two, often three. But he's never been a "drinker". He's always been too controlled to want to get drunk. His life is about order and precision, even if the ethical lines of the law he follows are slightly messier. So, when she sees him drunk like this, she's not sure what to expect. Harvey's reactions can be unpredictable at best when he's got a bee in his bonnet. But when he's like this, he's dark and dangerous.
And then she spots her. She's tall, blonde, and wearing a short black dress as she reaches out and places her hand on his shoulder. She looks no more than 25, likely an aspiring but already too old model he's found in the upscale bar around the corner. It's somewhere she knows he goes to drown his sorrow's alone, but always leaves with company.
With the exception of Scottie, Zoe and Paula, he's always had the decency to keep his conquests to himself. And even then he'd always been discreet and keen to keep them distanced from her and the professional space they shared. So when she sees him place his arm low around her back and whisper something in her ear that makes her laugh, something twists inside her. She thinks it's unfamiliarity at seeing something she's never seen before. She has no right for it to be anything more, especially with her wonderful boyfriend just the other side of the room.
She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly in order to gather herself. Harvey has loose cannon written all over him. With Thomas she's gotten used to open and safe. She hopes that the blonde distraction on his arm, proves to be just that; and that no drama will come of the evening. As she goes to look for Thomas and tries to place as much distance between her and the newly arrived pair, Alex appears by side and confirms her worst fears.
"Jesus, he looks hammered." Alex declares. She watches Harvey uncharacteristically grab a glass of champagne off a passing tray carried by a waiter. He grabs just one and downs it. Oblivious to the woman at his side, not bother to offer her one. He places the empty glass back on the waiter's tray with more force than intended, bringing the other glasses crashing down on the floor. Everyone turns to stare as he holds his hands in the air and says to those around him "nothing to see".
"Can you go deal with him, it's someone else's turn." Donna says to Alex as she walks off to go find Thomas.
For the rest of the evening, she does her best to ignore him. But her subconscious scans the room to ensure disaster doesn't head her way. As if sensing her unease, Thomas gives her a reassuring smile and a squeeze of her hand at regular intervals. He's an intelligence and emotionally aware man. She's pretty sure he's worked out that the complicated history her and Harvey share, is more complicated than she's dared to explain.
She feels him before she sees him. Every muscle and nerve in her body contracts with tension.
"Donna."He says with an arrogant and teasing smirk.
"Harvey." She offers as both a greeting and a warning.
They stand in awkward silence. Harvey and Donna still looking at one another. The other two are left baffled as to what is going on. Thomas, ever the gentleman, introduces himself to Harvey's date who clearly has no idea what she's stepped into.
"Hi, I'm Thomas."
"Mia." She replies in a sickly sweet tone.
"And how do you know Harvey?" Thomas dares to ask.
"Oh, I don't really. We met earlier at a bar and he said there was a party happening here." Donna looks over at Harvey, her eyes loaded with judgement and disappointment.
"If you have something to say Donna, please say it." Harvey bites back. She ignores his provocation and stretches out her hand to the young girl by his side.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Mia." Her refusal to take the bait and desire to keep things calm appears to only irritate him further.
"So, Thomas what brings you to our Christmas party?" Harvey asks with barely concealed agression.
"Well, I am a client." He says smiling at the woman next to him, letting everyone know the real reason that he's there this evening. Donna smiles warmly back up at him. It pokes and prods at Harvey's insecurities and years of rules that were set in stone for no one but him.
"That you are. And I'm sure Donna is servicing you very well indeed." It's said with no humour and dished out with spite. As silence befalls the group, Donna visibly tenses at Thomas's side. Thomas takes a step forward towards the man who's acting like a complete jerk, someone he thought was her good friend, before thinking better of it, and turning back to Donna.
"Donna, let's go grab a refill." He says taking hold of her hand.
"What, I'm not allowed to talk to her anymore?" Harvey says raising his voice.
"Not when you talk to her like that."
"Excuse me, she's stood right here." Donna interjects, irritated at the two men having a pissing contest over her.
"Look buddy. . . ."
"Don't buddy me! And unless you haven't noticed, you may be a client, but it's my name on that wall over there." Thomas steps a little closer again, and she panics as she sees Harvey's fist clench by his side.
She's never been more grateful to anyone in her life, as when Alex appears from nowhere and puts his arm around Harvey's shoulder, leading him off towards the bar, quickly asking questions about a case they've been working on lately. The blonde girl quickly follows behind them. Alex looks back over his shoulder towards Donna, and gives her a tight smile. She mouths a thank you in his direction. Before they reach the bar, Harvey grabs the blonde girls hands and makes his way to the exist.
"Donna I'm sorry." Donna's attention snaps back to the man trying to apologise at her side.
"I'm sorry he behaved like that." She says knowing that Thomas was not the bad guy in this situation.
"Why are you apologising?" Thomas asks with a confused look on his face.
"Habit. I've spent 13 years apologizing for him." Thomas gives her a look, one she's seen many times over the years. But she's quick to defend herself.
"It's not like that."
"Isn't it?" He doesn't say it with judgement or jealously, but with the knowledge of a man that can guess what it must feel like to lose her. But whatever he's just said flips a switch in her, and he can see from the look in her eyes that she's furiously angry.
He watches her flee across the room before he can try to stop her.
She presses the elevator button to go down. She figures he's probably sent the girl home and he's now sulking in his office. That he's likely poured himself a too generous helping of Whiskey in order to drown out the knowledge of his own self-destruction.
His office is empty and so is "Jessica's". She figures he must have gone home instead, maybe with the girl. So much for personal growth. She glances at her old desk, and it makes her want to cry. They'd been through so much together. Years of loyalty, sacrifice and partnership; and yet all she had left to show for it was the burnt and bitter embers of a friendship that could no longer be salvaged.
A future with a wonderful man who was willing to give her everything, was waiting for her on the floor above. So why was she looking to have another pointless argument with a man that didn't even want what he was angry someone else had - her.
She turns towards the lifts and heads towards the bathrooms to freshen up before she heads back to the party. She opens the door and there he is.
"Shit." He mumbles as he quickly and clumsily steps away from the woman whose legs are currently wrapped around his waist. He goes to wipe his hand across his mouth, but the red lip gloss merely streaks across his face. His shirt's untucked and they both look like they've been doing exactly what they've been doing.
"How could you talk to me like that? Who the fuck do you think you are?" Her rage outweighs her shock and upset at what she's walked in on.
I'm sure you're about to tell me."
"You really don't get it do you?" She says with fury.
"That I'm a dick? Yeah, I get it. You've informed me plenty of times over the years for that to sink in." If the situation wasn't so awful, Donna might have laughed at the sight of the girl still sat on the sink looking bewildered while they tore strips off each other.
"Things are exactly how you wanted them, but you're still not happy! You spent years placing all of us - Mike, Jessica, me, Louis, like chess pieces on a board. Positioning us all in your life so it was comfortable for you. So you could never get hurt, so that we weren't too close. But that's not how it's turned out is it?! Because eventually, one by one, we don't want to play your game - we're all leaving you!"
He'd like the ground to swallow him whole. He can't bring himself to look her in the eye, truth and shame weighing him down. Instead, he picks a spot on the wall. A piece of chipped paint that maintenance has been meaning to fix for the past five years. She carries on regardless.
"But at least you never intentionally tried to hurt me or humiliate me, until tonight . . . I thought you were a good man . . I thought at least I meant . . . " he hears her choke back a sob and he thinks this is the worst moment of his life.
"It's not all about you Donna." Drunk, hurt and lost, he has nothing better to say back to her.
"Isn't it? You're a selfish coward, you always have been."
"And you. . . Mia is it?" She says looking at the dishevelled blonde still sat there. "Some advice. He's not going to remember your name or call you again. Maybe at best, in two months time when he's lonely and bored and he can't be bothered to go to a bar to pick up someone new. Take it from me, decent men that make your life better, don't come in the form of a 45-year-old drunk, who can't commit. You seem like a nice girl, so put your daddy issues aisde and go find someone your own age; someone who's less damaged."
And with that she walks out the door not even bothering to glance in his direction.
"Then put your little hand in mine. There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb. Babe, I got you babe."
"Rise and shine New Yorkers, it's Christmas eve, it's your last chance to finish your Christmas shopping."
He wakes with a start, his alarm clock baring out at his side. His first thought is to think of a diplomatic way to get the young blonde sleeping next to him out of his apartment, sooner rather than later. He hopes she's slipped out during the night, saving him the hassle. He expected to wake up with a banging headache, he certainly deserves one.
Before he dares to turn around and face the music and his unwanted guest, he opens his eyes to check the time. He'd hoped to get an early jump on the day and finish up some paperwork before dragging himself up to Boston. Boston was meant to be a welcome escape, but now he just wants to curl in a ball and block out the world. He can't bring himself to think about what happened last night. He's sure he'd be in the middle of a panic attack if he did.
The alarm clock beside him reads 06.00. He figures the lack of headache is probably due to him still being drunk, rather than having successfully slept it off.
He closes his eyes one more time before he has to wake Melanie, Melissa, Meryl, or whatever her name is.
He must still be drunk. Maybe the ringing in his head is his hangover, rather than his alarm clock. Because he's pretty sure that the clock that he smashed all over the floor yesterday morning and threw in the trash; is now sitting perfectly intact on his bedside table.
He turns over slowly and where there should be a naked blonde woman, lies a perfectly untouched set of sheets. Before he has time to try and piece together what is happening his phone begins to rings. He reaches onto his bedside table to grab his phone and knocks the alarm clock to the floor as he goes to answer it. "Fuck" he mutters.
"What could you possibly want this time?" he says not bothering to greet Mike any more cordially than he did yesterday.
"Well apparently, someone needs to tell you to stop being a jack ass, and unfortunately, that someone is me."
"Really Mike - two days in a row. I know you miss me but . . ."
"What are you talking about?" Mike says with confusion in his tone.
"I really don't need this lecture from you two days in a row."
"Seriously, you're losing it old man . . . look Louis is worried about you. I know this is difficult for you, not that you'll ever admit it. But you're going to lose her and everyone around you, unless you get your shit together." Mike here's Harvey walk across the room. "Harvey are you there?" His stomach churns as he feels beads of sweat form on his forehead. The reality of the situation begins to hit him.
"Mike! What day is it?" Harvey ask imatiently.
"What?!"
"What day is it?" He repeats.
"It's Friday Harvey. It's Christmas eve." Mike hears Harvey drop the phone.
"You've got to be kidding me!" is all Mike hears before the lines goes dead.
Part 2 coming Sunday! I'd love to hear what you think! Bella xx