Hi, so um...this is really nowhere near my best work, and I want to apologize for that, but this idea has been bugging me for a while now, and I felt like I had to write it. This is a two-part fic, and I'm like a third of the way through the second half right now, so that should be coming soon. Hopefully, it's better than whatever this, but who's to say?
"And I think that you should know
That the places come and go
But home is where the heart is"
- Missing Home (Flora Cash)
"Then there's one more thing. I have an ace in the hole, but I don't wanna play it unless you're good with it too."
Donna can't help the uneasiness that settles deep in her stomach at his admission. Given the chaos they've been through in the last week, she can't possibly imagine what kind of plan he's come up with that will take care of all that.
"What do you mean?" she asks cautiously.
He swallows, giving her a look she doesn't quite have time to decipher before taking her hand, "Come here."
He tugs gently, guiding her to the couch in her office before sitting and pulling on her to join him. She does so, all the while eyeing him somewhat suspiciously. They don't typically do public displays of affection at work, and not that his holding her hand is anything inappropriate, but the way he's holding her hand does seem a bit like he's scared to let go. He shifts so that their knees are brushing and tucks a strand of her hair that's fallen in front of her face behind her ear.
"Mike offered me a job the other night," he says without preamble.
This doesn't immediately surprise her. Rachel has been dropping hints for the past six months for the two of them to move out there, but Donna never really put much thought into it. It was a fun little joke between them, constantly begging the other to come and visit and never leave.
"Oh," is all she manages to say, not entirely sure where this is leading.
"He was joking at first about making me an associate, but the sentiment was there," says Harvey, his thumb now rubbing against the back of her hand while she continues to stare at him. "I talked to him after the trial the other day, though, just to make sure, but senior partner is mine right now. All I have to do is call him."
Donna continues to remain silent, soaking this in, forcing him to continue.
"I think we both know that Faye doesn't care anything about Samantha or Louis or anyone else at this firm, or the firm in general, for that matter. She only cares about me. And if I were to offer to step down in exchange for her leaving, I'm almost certain she'd take that deal."
"Harvey—"
"And I'm not saying we have to go to Seattle. We could do anything we wanted, really. We could take a year off and travel the world if you wanted to, but I think we'd get bored with doing nothing after a little while."
She loses her voice all of the sudden, and she can't explain why, but his use of the collective "we" does something to her heart that feels a lot like flying.
"We?" she finally manages to choke out.
He gets a little bit of a panicked look about him as he says, "I didn't...I didn't mean to assume you'd come with me if I left. If you wanted to stay here, I mean, it's your choice, of course, I just thought…"
"I wouldn't," she interrupts, using her free hand to caress his cheek softly. "I love Louis, and I love our family here, but I came here for you, Harvey. If you go, I go. That's the way it's always been."
He breathes out a tiny sigh of relief and smiles, "Good. I don't think I'd enjoy sightseeing in Paris very much without you."
She chuckles, giving his hand a small squeeze, "Like I'd ever let you go to Paris without me."
They sit for another moment in silence, the laughter fading away as reality sets back in.
"So...Seattle…" Donna murmurs, looking at their still entwined hands.
"Yeah," he nods slowly. "Seattle."
"Hypothetically, what would I do there, in Seattle?" she ponders aloud. "Would I work at the firm with you?"
"If you want to. Mike and Rachel will find room for you there."
"And if I don't want them to find room for me?"
He shrugs, "You can do anything else. Be a bartender, try acting again, start a vlog, go back to school, everything, nothing, whatever."
She smiles, "The vlog thing sounds interesting."
"Yeah, I don't know, maybe not that, but you get my point."
"I might like to go back to school," she says without thinking, and before this moment she hadn't even known she wanted it, but it seems to fit.
"I'll get you your own little desk with a color-coded filing system and everything," says Harvey.
She regards him carefully, now that he's loosened up and joking around, she can read him more clearly, and though what she sees there isn't entirely shocking, it hits her that it's real. He's serious. This isn't just some "what if" game they're playing. This isn't just some plan he came up with as a last resort to get rid of Faye like he made it seem when he first approached the subject. This is really what he wants for their future.
"You've thought about this a lot in the past couple of days, haven't you?" she asks unnecessarily.
He nods, somewhat sheepishly, but she smiles.
"Tell me about it. This life you see for us in Seattle."
"Okay," he drawls uncertainly, but then he lets go of her hand and instead wraps his arm around her, pulling her into his side and allowing them both to gently fall against the back of the couch. And then he begins:
"I want to start by saying I know that it's a really long way from your parents, but it's not like you see much of them anyway, and I'd fly them there overnight if you needed me to, so you don't have to worry about that. We could buy a house instead of an apartment if you want, one with a yard and a garden and nosy neighbors who send us welcome baskets and want us to join the H.A. Or we could move right next door to Mike and Rachel, so we could pop in every night around dinner time and never have to cook for ourselves. I know there's no Broadway but shows tour, and I'll buy us season tickets every year, so we never miss a thing. It's cold there and really wet, Mike says, but you could keep a little umbrella in your purse, one we'd both have to squeeze incredibly close to both fit under, and if it rains on us on date night, we can run from awning to awning, and I'll kiss you like in Breakfast at Tiffany's. On sunny days we could go for walks together and talk about nothing of any importance. We could get a little cabin in the woods for weekends when we just want to get away for a bit. I'll buy you a piano because I know how much you've missed it, and if you only ever remember how to play one song, I'll listen to it every day."
He pauses for a moment, and it's only then that she realizes she's crying. Not much, but just a little, enough for her to reach up and quickly wipe a tear away, hoping he doesn't notice, but, of course, he does.
"Hey, don't...don't cry," he begs, turning her face towards him. "This is all hypothetical, I promise. I'd gladly spend the rest of our lives doing exactly what we do right now exactly the same if that's what you wanted. I just thought—"
"I don't want that," she shakes her head. "I want everything you just said. I want a house with a garden and kisses in the rain and I really, really want a piano."
"I thought you'd like that part," he grins, finally relieved to know he hadn't upset her at all. "I mean, I'd get you one here too, but I'm not sure how easy it would be to move into the penthouse."
She chuckles softly and gives him a quick kiss, "I guess we have to move to Seattle then."
"You mean it? This is really what you want?"
"Harvey, to be entirely honest, I have no idea what I really want because I can barely think past the next day right now, but obviously it's something you really want, and the amount of time you've spent thinking about what would make me happy there shows me that I will be."
"Are you sure? Because, Donna, I don't want you to feel like you're sacrificing for me. You've done so much of that already."
"It's not a sacrifice. All I really need is you."
He smirks, "Sap."
"After that whole monologue?" she raises an eyebrow at him. "I think you've just about cornered the market on sappiness today, hotshot."
She snuggles into his side and lays her head on his shoulder, taking his hand again and tangling their fingers together.
"Guess I should call Mike, then," he sighs.
"Guess you should," she smiles to herself and closes her eyes, taking a moment to breathe. "Don't let him tell Rachel yet, though. I want to call her myself once we have everything figured out."
"Okay," he agrees and presses a kiss against her temple. "You ready to go home?"
She shakes her head, "Let's just sit here for a little longer. I need a minute to…"
She trails off, not knowing exactly what she needs a minute for, but he gives a little hum that shows he understands and rests his head against hers. She wonders, in the silence of after, if maybe she made this decision a bit rashly. It is, after all, the rest of her life she's talking about. But she knows she was right when she said she'd always go where he goes. He's been the one dictating their moves since the day they met, and she likes that she's never had to think about it all that much. She might've once convinced herself that she didn't, but it's a lie she can recognize now that they're here, like this. As long as he's driving, she'll always be along for the ride.
Hours later, when they're home, lying tangled on the couch while Friends reruns play on the TV, Harvey suddenly stops the hand that had been lazily rubbing her back and adjusts them so that he can see her face.
"What?" she asks.
"You thought I was going without you," he says, though the conversation has long past, and she knows exactly what he means, even though he's wrong.
"No, I didn't," she argues, pushing up to prop her chin on the hand she has lying across his chest.
"You were shocked when I said 'we' like you weren't expecting it," he reasons.
"I was, but not because I thought you'd meant you were going alone the first time."
He gives her a look, and she chuckles slightly at the pout of confusion he wears.
"I wasn't shocked that you wanted me to come with you. I was shocked that you hadn't considered anything else."
He scrunches his eyebrows together, "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she sighs, "that the reason you came to me first wasn't that you wanted me to give you advice on making the decision, it was because it was our decision to make. It's never been like that before, not about anything this important anyways."
He tilts his head in that signature way of his that she knows means he's thinking something really sappy.
"Did you really think that's the kind of decision I'd make without you?"
"No. It's just...you said it like it was implied that we'd go together or not at all."
He frowns slightly, "I didn't think that had to be implied, Donna."
She huffs with frustration, "I'm not...I can't explain it well."
"Try," he urges her. "Please?"
She considers asking him to let it go, knowing her inability to voice her thoughts is starting to make him think she's having doubts, but she's so incredibly proud of how open they've been with each other in these last couple of months that she doesn't want to backtrack now, especially now.
"I guess I just thought, I mean, married couples go everywhere together. People who are just boyfriend and girlfriend aren't automatically bound to each other. Couples do long distance. I wasn't sure if—"
"Donna," he stops her. "If you think I would've even considered going without you for a second…"
"I didn't," she assures him. "I know you wouldn't."
"You know you're not making any sense right now?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow at her.
She smiles, "Yes. Don't worry about it, really. It was just one of those moments where it really hits me, you know?"
"I do," he gives her his signature grin and leans forward to kiss her, long and sweet.
He smoothes down her hair afterward and gives her a look.
"What?"
"Boyfriend and girlfriend," he repeats her words from earlier. "It seems a little juvenile for what this is, don't you think?"
"Well, what else would you call it?"
He shrugs, "I don't know. Just a thought, I guess."
There's a pause, and then:
"Dance with me?"
She sits up, "To what?"
He slowly untangles them and gets up from the couch, walking towards the shelf where he keeps his most prized records, the ones too good to leave at the office. He slides one out with a grayish black and white sleeve that she doesn't recognize, but before she can ask, he shows the cover to her.
"This came yesterday while you were at lunch with Samantha."
She grins knowingly, "Of course you hid it away before I could find a way to make fun of you."
"I'm showing you now."
Soon enough the smooth sounds of one of their new favorite songs fill the penthouse, and he has her tucked under his chin as they sway meaninglessly. She forgoes the attempt to tease him relentlessly over this particular pick. It's a song from Coldplay's newest album, one they've listened to countless times together from the Bluetooth speaker in their shower and the sound system in the Lexus, but never on vinyl. He keeps his Coldplay records tucked into a corner of his collection that no one has ever been given access to but her. They're his guilty pleasure, something she's known for over thirteen years now, but something she never gets tired of teasing him for, no matter how much he hates it. She was never a huge fan herself, but she did know how to play "The Scientist" on piano at one point in her life, so she's always been partial to that one. She likes this new one, though. The song they're currently dancing to is more along the lines of Harvey's normal style—a tune reminiscent of 60s blues.
They don't usually talk much when they dance like this, and it isn't something they do often, but tonight it feels abnormally quiet as they both contemplate everything that had transpired.
As the song is winding down, Harvey finally speaks, "About what you said, though, you know I think of us as one unit, don't you?"
"I do," she replies instantly.
"And just because I'm not ready to propose yet, doesn't mean—"
"I know, Harvey," she assures him, continuing to let him sway her even as the next song begins to play. "I know."
The irony of the situation isn't lost on her. She remembers another time not so many years ago when he'd expressed his feelings about her dating Stephen similarly, but his "doesn't mean" has quite the opposite effect now.
They continue to dance until the record finally stops playing, sneaking soft kisses and every now and then just because. He leads her to bed soon after, and she falls asleep with her head on his chest thinking that if nothing else, they will always have this in Seattle.
I told you it was bad, and you didn't listen. If you made it this far, well, bless you. I'm bad with dialogue. Like very bad, and this story relies heavily on it, so there's not really much to be done about that. Oh well. Stay tuned for part two if I haven't made you hate me yet.