Hey, homies.
When I first watched 7x11, I really wanted that argument in the lobby to go in a different direction. So instead of letting it eat me up, I wrote it lol. I wrote this almost immediately after the episode aired so this is kind of old now and this first chapter was actually the first fic I ever wrote. It has a very special place in my heart so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The next chapter I wrote more recently so there has been some time separating both of them so if my writing style turns absolutely ludicrous, you'll know why.
Much love,
Gabby.
Chapter 1
He's walking, running. His legs move slower than he'd like, but his heart races, his head just trying to keep up. Each step he takes, his thoughts become hazier, his vision becomes blurrier, and suddenly he doesn't know where he's walking. He just knows that he needs to get away.
Consumed with anger, guilt, whatever emotion there is, he just knows that this moment right now is not the place to be. The choice that he made wasn't the best, but they never are. In the heat of the moment, it's what he did. And as un-Harvey like as it is, in this moment, he doesn't feel like having to deal with the consequences.
Not tonight.
But he hears footsteps approaching and even though he could never admit it to himself right now, it's the only sound he doesn't want to hear but needs to.
"Harvey, we're gonna have that talk and we're gonna have it right now." He doesn't turn to face her. He can't. She can't see him like this; empty.
"Donna,"
"No. It was one thing to take it out on me, but what you did in that interview was horrible, and selfish."
Selfish? Is she kidding? He scoffs at her words. But then thinks about it more deeply.
Selfish.
Oh, god.
His stare remains unfixed on her and she hopes she can hear him. Hopes that somehow the words circling around in his head are making their way to her.
Can we just talk?
Talk. Not shout. Argue, fight or yell. Talk, because what he's hearing is true and what she's telling him is right, as it always is. Because she is Donna Paulsen and he is Harvey Specter. Because after all, Harvey Specter would never admit to anyone that he was wrong. Because Donna Paulsen is the only one that can see it before he even needs to admit it.
But as he's turning around to face her, his vision suddenly becomes clearer, and his head is screwed on straight because she's there in front of him like she's always been. She's never left and she never will. But although he wishes he could, his thoughts aren't what he formulates into words. Because it's easier to push people away than to admit to weakness.
"You wanna talk about what happened? Then let's talk about what happened because if anyone knows about selfish, it's you."
And without even thinking properly, those words are out before he can stop himself, immediately regretting his poor choice of vocabulary. He sees her face drop and in that instant, everything seems to hit him. Like bullets and rain, it hammers onto him and there's nothing there to protect himself because he's him and she's her. He was never one to talk with his heart; his head always being the better option for him in any given situation. But this isn't another situation. This is her, and so he takes a step closer, pushing his limits and extending hers.
Donna doesn't notice that she also does the same, but not for the move he was hoping for.
"You have some nerve saying that to me when you know I have put you over myself for years."
Years.
It's been thirteen years, and not once has there ever been a slip-up. They've come close, sure, but never. Never in the long nights at the office, sharing a glass of scotch and laughing until the early hours of the morning. Never in the midnight phone calls, or the late knocks on her door. And what Harvey is really angry about isn't Donna, but himself. Because in all those nevers, he wishes that there was something.
Anything.
"Why did you do it, Donna?"
"I told you, Harvey." She doesn't want to repeat it again. The hurt is all too consuming.
Stepping closer and closer until their ten feet apart turns into two, he keeps going. He keeps pressing onwards, and she thinks for a moment that he's going to yell and scream and shout at her because he's angry at what she did, and she can never take it back. Because she made him the one thing he never wanted to be. Because she had a rule and she wasn't supposed to cross it for the safety of them both.
But the truth is, he was always the one thing he never wanted to be with every woman in his life that wasn't Donna. Because his heart would always belong to her, and hers to him.
And Harvey Specter isn't angry because she kissed him.
He's angry because she got there first.
He stares at her, just for a second, and she stares back for another. He takes a step closer, and she stays rooted, barely raising her chin to look him in the eyes.
It was supposed to be me. Me kissing you.
He's lost for a moment, and so is she. His mind wanders. Maybe for a second, maybe for an hour. But he doesn't notice, and neither does she.
What have I been waiting for?
"You're into me."
.
"The only thing I got going on tonight is you."
.
"Anyone else loses faith in me, doesn't matter..."
.
"Are you saying you're coming back to me?"
.
And it all starts coming to him now.
"Because she's different."
.
"I needed to know," she says, barely above a whisper. Breath slowing, eyes teary.
"I know," he says. Quieter. Their shouting match was now a thing of the past, not being able to hear any sound but the ones coming from her. The only moment they would ever need to remember was this one right here.
She closes her eyes.
"Do you want to be alone?"
"No."
.
No. He doesn't.
One beat.
Two beats.
Three.
He leans in.