REGRET

When he finally gets his bagel back from Rachel, he thinks it's the end of their conversation, so imagine his surprise when she suddenly blurts out the following words:

"You know, I always thought you and Donna had some history but she said nothing ever happened."

It's that he wasn't taking a bit of this food at that moment or he's sure he would have choked on it, but he still finds himself out of breath and unsure how to respond other than, "what?"

Rachel keeps waking, simply answering him. "She said you two never slept together, honestly I think everyone at the firm thought you two did."

She only notices he stopped walking altogether five steps ahead, and she turns around to face him then. The look on his face telling her everything she needs to know. The shock in his eyes isn't there simply because of the insinuation, it's there because Donna lied about the other time.

"Ooh my god," the young paralegal blurts out then. "She lied, you did."

He doesn't manage to school his features fast enough, and the damage is already done. So instead of denying it, he tells her: "don't you dare tell her you know."

Rachel presses her lips together in a thin line, nodding repeatedly and following him silently as he continues their way back to the office.

His appetite is long gone, but the finishes the bagel anyway. A mere way to keep himself busy, to not talk, or rather think about it: when he catches Rachel's mouth starting to move, he cuts her off before she even gets a chance to talk. "Shut it, or you're off this case."

When Donna walks into his office late that night, it's regret he feels. Not for agreeing to her rule; sure, he wishes things were different from time to time, but he also knows deep down that if it hadn't been there and they'd continued seeing one another, he'd eventually screw it up and lose her completely. At least this way, she's still in his life.

No he regrets the way he's been acting all afternoon, for she's been on the receiving end of it.

She doesn't ask what's bothering him, and he doesn't apologise with words, that is. Simply pouring both of them a glass of scotch as he watches her settle down on his couch, he sits in the chair next to it and takes a sip of his drink - needing the liquid courage to bring it up.

"I know we agreed to put it out of our minds…" he starts, staring at the auburn liquid as it swivels around in his glass. "I just didn't think you'd lie about it."

Donna feels her breath hitch at his words, but all she can do is look at him.

He turns to meet her gaze, pressing his lips together in a sad smile. "Rachel," he admits.

Donna nods then, looking down at her folded hands. She knows exactly where the inspiration for whatever Rachel said to him came from that night in this very office.

"I panicked," she admits, briefly glancing up and she finds him looking at her still. "It's not that I want them to know -"

"I know."

"It's just," she starts but pauses right away, shrugging lightly. A rare occasion of her admitting she doesn't know how to deal with this either.

He accepts it for what it is, the truth. "I don't know what I would have said either if Mike had asked."

Neither of them speaks after that; they share one last look before returning to their drinks. Silently agreeing once more how they won't tell others about their past, and yet at the same time, it's a promise to one another to never forget about it either.

That night, what it meant, and what they agreed to after. It's better like this, for now, at least.