6. Between the Lines

Paula stares over the rim of her mug, taking in her boyfriend as he moves around the hub of her kitchen, getting fruit from the fridge, and making their usual breakfast preparations. Recently there's been something different about Harvey she can't quite place. He's moving through Mike's departure with more maturity than she expected, with more clarity to the adjustment than when he went through a similar situation a few months back. When Donna resigned he'd struggled through the stages of acceptance. He'd made a point of telling her he didn't regret what happened, but whenever she'd pressed him, his answer had always been the same; he'd needed time.

Maybe it's because the circumstances are different, but now it seems he's come full circle. The signs of stress he'd been exhibiting have reduced, he's no longer pushing himself with a grueling exercise routine, and the other night he'd reached out to Mike of his own accord. She's immensely proud of his progress, but there's still worry niggling at her subconscious. It could be surprise impairing her judgment, making her too cautious, or even her nerves coming into play over a conversation she's been waiting to have with him. The idea he might be ready pushes a hesitant smile onto her mouth as she swallows a sip of coffee. "I thought we could go out to dinner when I get back, try Eleven Madison Park?"

He pulls down a glass, his mouth curving as he places it next to the carton of OJ on the counter. "Sounds good." She's going to be attending a conference in Boston for a few days and he'd floated the idea of travelling with her. It would have been nice to introduce Marcus, plus smooth things over with Lily. He's only spoken to his mother once since the awkward dinner the three of them shared while she was in NCY. The reference to Donna wasn't her fault but it couldn't have come at a worse time, and then when Donna left the firm, he hadn't been in the right headspace to reach out. He'd needed to find his footing again, which he has, but since his misstep with David Fox, he's still working to make it up to Robert. Taking leave would only rile things up again, but he's looking forward to planning something when Paula gets back. "I'll make us a reservation."

He picks up the juice, unscrewing the cap, and she can't help but scrutinize his relaxed features, taking a deep breath. She doesn't want to create a problem where there isn't one, and not everything needs to be over-analyzed, but she can't ignore her instincts and pushes them gently. "Harvey… is everything okay?"

There's a slight waver beneath the question and he frowns, genuinely confused. "Sure, why wouldn't it be?"

He doesn't mirror any of her hesitation, not holding anything back, so she doesn't either. "With Mike leaving, you just seem—" she searches for a word that won't come across sounding patronizing but draws a blank. He's allowed to be happy. It's the turning point she's been wanting to see happen, and she tries to separate how he's acting from her own insecurities. "I wanted to check in, that's all."

He recaps the OJ, and is no therapist, but has a fair idea where her concern is stemming from. The truth is, he hadn't been okay. But he'd kept the details to himself, needing a distraction more than an analysis. He didn't want to work-shop his fight with David Fox, he'd wanted to go in guns blazing, which he did, and the aggressive move had nearly cost the firm its home but it was his call. Turning to Donna had been a reflex, his mind tunneling toward a solution that she'd claimed she couldn't give him. Except she had. She'd made him see the real problem with a few simple hard truths, pointed him in the right direction and he'd found a way to fix it. Speaking to Mike had not only given him a solution, it had made him realize the man hadn't left him, just the city. Compared to how he'd felt when he and Donna had cut ties, the distance to Seattle doesn't seem that far, and having Donna back within reach has eased the anxiety that's been residing in his chest. When he'd mentioned to Paula they'd both had a good time at the wedding, he was surprised but relieved she didn't see it as an issue, and it feels like he can finally breathe again, his mouth winding around a smirk. "Would you rather I be moping around miserable?"

She's worried for a moment, until the crinkle cresting his eyes reveal he's teasing, and she offers a small smile in response. "You know that's not what I meant." He raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his juice, and she sets down her mug, facing up to what she really wants to ask with a deep breath. The underlying motivation that's been driving her to push him. "I just want to make sure you're happy with how things are between us."

"I would've thought that was pretty obvious after this morning," he jokes, an image of their bodies sweaty and entwined making him grin. If their recent sex life has been anything to go by, it more than proves things are back on track between them. He's still buzzing with endorphins, maybe a little too carefree, because her contemplative look doesn't match the amusement in his gaze, and his grin falters, dipping into a frown. "Paula?"

"It's nothing," she assures him, but his eyes don't leave hers, and she knows it's hypocritical to keep what she's feeling hidden. The problem is, if now isn't the right time to bring up what she's been wanting to discuss, then two days away could do more harm than good, and she doesn't want to risk rocking the boat now that it's settled.

He can read straight away there's something she's wrestling with, and it's one of the reasons he loves being in a relationship with her, because there's never any mystery he has to decipher. She wears her emotions openly and would make a terrible poker player, but he can always trust she's going to be honest with him, and he puts his glass down, taking a step towards her. "I'm here, see." He rests his palms over her shoulders, urging her to talk to him.

Her stomach flutters under his full attention, and she bites the bullet, spilling what she's been afraid to say out loud. "I know I was the one who wanted to wait to move in together, but if you're ready, I would really like it if we could start talking about the future, looking at things we both want in the long-term."

A flare of apprehension ignites inside him, a default reaction whenever he's faced with any kind of commitment, and he focuses on the first thing she said, needing a moment to process the rest. "Are you saying you want to move in together?"

It's not the enthusiasm she'd been hoping would engulf his features, but deep down she'd suspected the hope was just a fantasy. He's a man who likes to be in control of change, one of the reasons she wanted to get a jump on things now—give him time to consider how they want to be shaping their future together. "I'm saying, we're not getting any younger, and it's important we understand each other's priorities, that we're on the same page."

He absorbs what she's saying with a slow nod, particularly the part about their age—which almost always means starting a family—and he attempts to curb the panic winding around his trepidation. It's not that he doesn't want those things with her. They're working to build something and asking what that life would be like isn't unreasonable. It's the logical next step, he just wasn't expecting it to suddenly feel like a schedule, but he pushes his reluctance down along with his hands, resting them in the crook of her elbows. "It's a good idea."

The words sound strained but she can see he's trying, that he wants to believe what he's saying, he just isn't quite there yet— and that's okay. Better for him to take the time now rather than six months down the track. This is a meet-in-the-middle kind of situation and she lifts her palm, brushing it against his cheek. "Nothing is changing, Harvey. These are all things to think about. We don't need to rush straight out and buy a minivan tomorrow."

The humour releases the dread clamped in his chest and his body calms in response, his shoulders dropping with a sigh. "I know that," he replies softly, wishing he knew an easy way to access what should be obvious, to find a way around the block that's always kept him from giving his heart what it truly wants. But he's closer to figuring it out than he ever has been, and when she pulls out of his grasp to go get her bags, he sinks back into the counter, closing his eyes.

Pushing himself to commit, finding open ways to communicate, making sacrifices—he thought he already was considering their future, but maybe he wasn't. Maybe he's just been going through the motions with a vague sense of where he's headed, propelled by the fact he's in a relationship that makes him happy each morning when he wakes up and every night he comes home. Honestly, he hasn't been focusing on anything else, and his thoughts subconsciously drift to Donna, when she'd declared she needed more. He'd asked what she'd meant and her answer had been evasive which is exactly how he feels now. Like he's clutching at something he can't see, hoping it will fall into his hands and he'll finally realize what's been missing.

...

...

Donna's on her way out of the office when her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she's half tempted to leave it, not in the mood for company tonight. Her day was spent in meetings, trying to move timelines ahead of schedule so when Collin finally decides to grace her proposal with his attention, she has the full support of other departments. From what she'd managed to pry from HR, going after him directly, without documented proof of his behavior isn't going to get her anywhere. She needs to go around him, build her reputation first, which fortunately, is something she has a knack for. But she's exhausted, and when she reads Harvey's name on the screen, she's even more hesitant to answer.

The insinuations Collin had made about her relationship with Harvey have been festering, fuelling her to analyse all the rumours that have circled throughout the years. Harvey had told her their lines had been clear from day one and she'd challenged him, listing all the ways he wasn't just her boss, and now all of those reasons are chipping away at her. Hushed voices replaying all the moments people had questioned her feelings, like Louis and Scottie, but never questioned his.

It shouldn't matter, that part of their history well and truly buried in the past, and she hates that Collin is in her head, leading her to swallow her reservations. She'd told Harvey to let her know how things turned out with David Fox and if she doesn't answer, it's just another hold Collin has over her. She's not going to give him anymore power and swipes the device, bringing it up to her ear. "You called Mike."

His mouth quirks against the receiver. "I did."

She can tell by his tone that he's ringing with good news, and she's glad, forcing her mind to remain in the present, and not keep drifting. "David Fox is taken care of?"

He nods, even though she can't see the response, and his gaze drifts to the two fingers of scotch in front of him. He'd found himself at a loss with what to do, go home to an empty apartment or stay in the office for a drink, and once he'd poured it, his mind had wandered to the nights Donna would slip her heels off and plonk herself down on the couch to join him. He knows those days are over, and things are still tentative between them, but having a positive story to share has batted away his nerves. Or at least the majority of them. "Why don't I fill you in over a drink?"

She stops at the curb, missing the cab she had her eye on, and dropping her hand down. Her first instinct is to decline, go back to her apartment like she'd planned and sink into a hot bath, but the hesitancy in his silence tugs at her guilt. He's been doing everything she's asked, while still keeping an olive branch extended, and saying no would be her pushing him away. He isn't responsible for difficulties she's having at work, not directly, and taking them out on him wouldn't be fair. "O'Malley's?"

Relief spreads through him, having half-expected she wasn't going to agree, and he pushes his glass to the side, ignoring the flutter in his stomach as he stands up. "I'll meet you there."

The call drops out and he catches himself in the reflection of the window, subconsciously straightening his jacket, and taking in the small smile curving his lips. Being without her has never felt right, and even though it's just a drink, it's a start.

...

He goes straight to O'Malley's and arrives first, shrugging out of his scarf, but leaving his coat on as he waits by the edge of the bar for Donna to show up. He has eyes on the door, but knows even before she's fully visible that it's her, copper tendrils pulling his focus to her wind-flushed cheeks.

She spots him immediately, her mouth curving at the edges but not quite delivering a proper smile. He tries not to read into it, playing this casually when she joins him. "Hey."

"Hi." She takes in the absence of a drink in his hands, the fact he's still rugged up, and assumes he can't have beaten her by much. "Sorry, the traffic was—"

"Donna," he smiles softly, leaning his elbow on the ledge next to her. She knows him, but he also knows her, and can see she's flustered. "It's fine."

She breathes in, willing herself to relax under his soft gaze. "Weather then?" she jokes, making light of the need for small talk.

"How about we just order drinks instead?" he suggests, angling himself around further at her nod, and catching the bartender's attention. "A Whiskey neat, and—"

"Espresso Martini." She ignores the inquisitive look Harvey sends her way. In his defence it's not her usual choice, but she needs something to jolt her awake, and thwart the chill that's still present from being outside. When he goes to pull out his wallet, she reaches into her purse first, handing her card over to pay, trying not to think about all the expenditures over the years, trips to Hermes, breakfasts at Nougatine—things Collin would have a field day with.

It strikes Harvey as odd but he doesn't comment, sliding the leather bi-fold back into his pocket.

They find a booth at the back, and she doesn't give him a chance to help with her coat, shedding it before his drink lands on the table. He's unhurried removing his own, watching how she slides quickly into the seating arrangement, fingering with the stem of her glass before lifting it to take a gulp, not a sip. He could write it off as nerves, but she wasn't wound this tightly at the wedding, even before she'd hit the champagne. He gets the sense there something else going on, and shuffles in opposite her with a slight frown. "Everything okay?"

She glances across at him, reading the concern set in his gaze, and she takes a deep breath. Collin is her problem, not his, and she'd promised herself she wasn't going to let the director get inside her head tonight. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Me?" he queries, genuinely confused. "Yeah. I'm fine." He isn't sure if she's deflecting or angling at what happened with Mike. It could be either, leaving the direction up to him, and he decides to play things safe, keep the focus on himself until he can figure it out. "You did talk me off a bit of ledge, so thank you."

"I didn't really do anything," she muses, not being modest, just telling the truth. He'd had to go find the answers for himself and she's glad he did, but it's not her place to take credit for his actions.

She ducks her gaze down, but his doesn't move away from her, his pride taking a momentary back seat. He hates admitting to his weaknesses but when he'd called, she'd tapped straight into his insecurities, and he'd listened. Not because he was on the cusp of screwing everything up, but because he trusts her completely. She might not see it but to him that's more important than anything, and he picks up his glass, swallowing a sip of the amber liquid. "You were there."

His voice is soft, and she knows he means well by the comment but for weeks she wasn't around, and he'd managed to keep the firm standing. She doubts one phone call had the impact he's implying it did. "Wasn't Paula?" It slips out and she regrets it instantly, her mouth pulling into a thin line. Honestly, she has no desire to hear about how their relationship is going and she really doesn't care why he rang her instead of his girlfriend. She's still stuck trying to justify what her role had been, not in his life, but at Specter and Litt, and she hadn't meant to come across sounding petty. "I'm sorry," she steals a breath, sincere with the apology, "that wasn't fair."

He relaxes, but only slightly, grateful he doesn't have to answer because the reason he hadn't turned to Paula is complicated. Part of him hadn't wanted to take his work home, but there's also a small part of him that didn't want to hear the truth from his girlfriend, afraid it would sound condescending. As his therapist she'd been able to move him forward, dig into things he hadn't been able to admit, but now they're in a relationship he wants to feel like they're equals. He and Donna have been on the same footing from the start, which is how he knows that now is the right time to let her comment slide, and push his concern instead. "Donna, what's going on?"

Her stomach flutters, not wanting to drag him into it, but she's boxed herself into a corner, and navigates around her hesitancy with a sigh. If there's anyone who can help her work through the doubt she's facing, he's uniquely qualified to fill the position. "Why did you promote me to COO?"

She finally glances up, something he can't identify swirling behind her curiosity, and he answers it with a shrug."Because you asked me to."

"That's it?" She tenses, his flippancy doing nothing to disprove all the rumours about him being biased towards her over the years. "The only reason is because I asked?"

"No, well... I mean—"

She angrily moves to grab her purse and he flusters, reaching across the table to grasp her wrist. "Yes, because you asked… but you wanted more, and you deserved it, that's why I promoted you."

His fingers slide back, leaving a tingle against her skin, but she's sat poised still on the edge of her seat. "Deserved it how?"

He can read in her eyes what he couldn't before—the same uncertainty that had been present the night she'd confronted him about Stu's job offer. The reaction slams him with guilt, the comment about Paula suddenly making sense, but he'd thought Donna understood his position didn't reflect her performance as COO. She'd been brilliant in the role, to the point he still hasn't been able to find a permanent replacement, and he swallows, for once not coming up short with his words. "Donna, you were the best damn legal secretary the firm ever had. Louis and I both agreed putting you in that position would benefit everybody, and I never meant to make it seem otherwise. I wouldn't even have the career I do now if it wasn't for you, and I'm sorry, because it's something I should have said a long time ago."

She sinks down again, the validation easing the tension that's been thrumming through her since last week. She wasn't expecting him to be so forward, instinct preparing her for the opposite, and embarrassment heats her neck as she fiddles with the stem of her cocktail again. "You really mean that?"

A sheepish smile ghosts her lips, and his own twitch in response. "The best decision I ever made was putting you on my desk."

The air between them shifts, feeling lighter, or maybe that's just her, but her mouth winds around a smirk. She'd been the one to approach him when they were at the DA's office, and she's quick to point out the fact. "I seem to recall putting myself on your desk."

She hikes up an eyebrow over the rim of her glass and he chuckles softly. "Well, maybe I can't take full credit for that... but I did mean what I said, I couldn't have done any of this without you."

"Thank you, Harvey." A warmth spreads through her chest as she takes another sip of her Martini, which has nothing to do with alcohol hitting her system. She is genuinely touched by his appreciation, even if it has taken nearly fourteen years to drag it out of him.

"You don't usually need—"

Reassuring, is what he stops himself from saying, not wanting to put his foot in his mouth. Just because he rarely sees her acting insecure doesn't mean she isn't capable of it. But he is worried that something might have prompted it, something she isn't telling him. "You sure there's nothing else going on?"

She downs the last of her drink, shaking her head, deciding to keep the expanse between hime and Collin as wide as possible. A little self-doubt is one thing, but having Harvey think that she can't handle herself, or worse, that he needs to step in, isn't something she wants to invite in the conversation. "You want another?" She points to the whiskey he's still nursing, suspecting she's the one out of sync but he breaches the gap, swallowing half with a nod as she pushes up from the table.

She decides to switch and change to whisky as well, slow herself down now she's starting to unwind, and she clutches her purse, waiting in line behind a young couple at the bar.

"Mr. Hot-shot over there clearly doesn't know how to treat a woman."

She angles her head at the voice next to her, eyeing the suited man and his smug grin. It's something she has no intention of engaging, her usual sass tampered down for the night, and she averts her eyes forward, ready to let it go when she feels a light pressure at her elbow.

"Why don't I get this round, show him how it's done?"

She pulls free of his grasp, snapping a glare at the unwanted advance. "Whatever you're trying to overcompensate for, not interested." She steps into the space that opens up at the bar, hearing him murmur a 'Frigid bitch' under his breath, causing every muscle in her body to tense again.

Maybe it's her fault for coming out when she wasn't in the right mindset, or maybe he's just another asshole who needs to learn some goddamn respect, but either way she reverts back to the part of herself that wanted to go straight home, making her hesitate when the bartender asks what she wants.

In the short seconds that tick by stubbornness forces the order out of her, and she ignores the leering gaze behind her, focused on paying and taking the drinks once they're poured, taking them back to the table where Harvey is toying with his now empty glass.

He watches her slide into the booth, not sure if he should mention the exchange he'd just witnessed. He's seen her turn away guys before and has always felt a small clench of relief, knowing she deserved better than some cheesy pick up line, but the way she hunches over, absorbed in the whiskey between her hands, makes him revert back to his earlier worry and he forgets they're supposed to be adhering to a new normal. "Want me to punch his lights out?"

She scoffs, amusement slipping free in spite of the fact it's the completely wrong thing to say. The very last thing she needs is Harvey Specter rushing in to save her, but he has a way of making things seem like they're going to be okay, and she leans on that, taking a sip from her drink. "Why don't you tell me about David Fox and what you had to do to close him?"

He accepts the change of topic, but only because when she settles her gaze is softer, and he can't help being drawn in by it. He's not ignoring the fact something is amiss—far from it—but she's always had to work to bring out his vulnerable side, and it's about time he started doing the same.

He wants to put in as much as he's gotten back over the years, because he doesn't just need her.

He needs her to be okay.

Because if she isn't, he can't be either.

AN: I will never be okay writing Paula and Harvey scences! So to every Darvey fan reading them and sticking with this story, you won't have to put up with them much longer ;) A massive thank you for all the reviews and to southsidesister (darvey_love) who gets me over the line evey time! XxXx