A quick author's note before we get started, since I've had several questions on it - I came up with the outline/concept of the story before we found out the name of Donna's love interest, which is why he's James here and not Thomas

She fumbled with her keys in the lock as she felt his hands snake tighter around her waist, his hot breath on her neck, just below her ear.

"If you keep that up, I'm never going to get this door open," she whispered.

He responded by pulling her even closer and nibbling on her neck. A low groan escaped her throat as his hands moved lower across her stomach. Finally, the door swung loose and the pair tumbled into the apartment.

As soon as the door was closed, she was against it. Purse, keys, and coats strewn carelessly in the entryway. Her hands moved to his collar, making fast work of the top buttons of his dress shirt, his tie soon joining the rest of their items on the floor.

Her head fell back against the door as he bit her bottom lip. She parted her lips and invited him in, deepening the kiss as her hands moved from his forearms into his hair. His hands were everywhere, running up and down the sides of her body before finally landing on her hips. He pushed her dress up higher on her thighs and used his knee to part her legs slightly, taking a step closer and pressing himself into her.

Lips still locked on his, her hands moved from his neck to his hips. She pulled his dress shirt loose from his pants and ran her nails up his bare torso. His lips moved from hers and he started planting kisses down her neck and across her clavicle, which made her eyes flutter closed. She purred as he reached a sensitive spot by her pulse point and she felt him smile against her skin. Her hands returned to his hips and worked to undo his belt buckle. She lifted one leg and hooked it around the back of his thigh, pulling him even closer to her core.

Realizing what her hands were doing, he pulled back slightly and looked at her. Her eyes were hooded and darker than normal, full of lust and love. Despite their compromising position, he paused, and took a second to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear before continuing.

"Here? Against your door?"

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it," she smiled, as she pulled his belt out of its loops, tossed it aside, and moved to unzip his pants.

"Oh, I've thought about a lot of things," he says with a smirk, as he helps her push his pants to the floor, stepping out of them before lifting her off the ground.

She laughs and immediately hooks her legs around his waist. His hands move across her back, unzipping her dress and unhooking her bra. By the time he drops her on the couch, her dress is crumpled around her waist and her bra is long forgotten, joining the rest of their clothes strewn about the apartment.

Donna wakes with a smile on her face and lifts her arms overhead to stretch. She opens her eyes and takes in her surroundings, her stomach dropping as she comes to terms with where she is. She groans as she realizes that not only is she not waking up in her own apartment, she's also waking up fully clothed. She rolls over onto her stomach, covering her head with a pillow as she sighs with frustration and embarrassment after having yet another dream about Harvey while sharing a bed with James.

It was Saturday morning and by the sound of it, James was in the shower, probably just back from his usual morning run. It'd been almost a week since he and Harvey had met in her office, almost a week since she'd had that realization that dating James was the closest thing to dating Harvey without actually dating Harvey. She'd done just about everything she could think of to shake away those thoughts; sleeping with James multiple times in one night in an effort to focus all her energy on him, staying in his bed without actually sleeping with him, staying over at both of her sister's apartments under the guise of maintenance issues in her own, even nearly pulling an all nighter in the office, but nothing worked. It'd been almost a week, and every morning, she woke up from a vivid dream where Harvey Specter had taken her on various surfaces throughout her apartment.

She hoisted herself out of bed and was collecting her things to leave when she heard the water turn off. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips. Damn, she thought, she'd really wanted to be gone before he was out of the shower. When she found herself in the same situation earlier in the week, she all but ran out the door while he was either still asleep or still on his run, needing to get home and get ready for work where she'd be able to push the whole thing to the back of her brain until the next morning. It being a Saturday though, she didn't have the luxury of work to distract her, and she was already looking for alternative ways to occupy her mind for the next 24 hours.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't heard him finish up in the bathroom and enter the bedroom.

"Where are you running off to?" He said, as he took a couple steps toward her and closed the distance between them, "I thought I'd make us some breakfast, I really haven't seen you all week, love."

She couldn't help but tense when she heard him say that L word yet again. She felt like it was the elephant in the room whenever they were together, no matter how many times he insisted it wasn't a big deal.

"I know, I'm sorry," she started as she located her shoes and slipped them on, "but Claire got called into the hospital last minute and she needs me to watch Hannah."

It was a lie, but it was the first thing she could think of that she knew he wouldn't question. She pulled her coat on and was about to turn to go when she felt him grab her wrist and pull her back to him.

"Hey, hey," he said, taking the hand that wasn't clasped around hers and moving it to the back of her neck, pulling her lips towards his, "before you leave."

She broke the kiss after a few seconds, feeling guilty about doing so, but feeling even more guilty about all the thoughts swimming through her head. She rested her hand on his cheek for a second, before turning and moving quickly out of the apartment.

When she got home, she headed straight for the shower, a feeble attempt to cleanse herself from her dream. She felt guilty for dreaming about Harvey, even more so for waking up disappointed morning after morning that it wasn't real. Deep, deep down she had to admit that she knew what these dreams really meant, but she also had absolutely no clue what she should do about it.

Fresh out of the shower, she made herself a cup of coffee and moved into her living room where she sank down on the floor, back resting against the back of her couch. It wasn't just that her apartment was the setting of her repeated dreams that she'd resisted sleeping there all week, it was also the fact that he was everywhere she looked. Echos of "you know I love you, Donna," filled her living room, she couldn't escape the laughter from The Other Time in her bedroom, and, if she thought about it long enough, she could convince herself that the entire placed smelled like shrimp. This had happened before, for a couple days at a time when she was at her loneliest. But now, unlike in the past, no amount of cleaning, scrubbing, vacuuming, or reorganizing could remove him. As she sat sipping her coffee, still wrapped in her robe, she thought about burning some sage, but decided against it - he wasn't a demon, no matter how much he was currently haunting her thoughts.

She didn't know how long she'd sat there - could have been 30 minutes, could have been three hours - but eventually she got up. Her mind still racing with memories from the weeks' dreams and subsequent feelings of anxiety, she knew she needed to do something, anything, to distract herself. Going into the office was out of the question, as she knew Harvey and Katrina would be there preparing for a trial set to start Monday, and seeing Harvey was exactly the opposite of what she needed.

She put on some leggings and an old sweatshirt, pulled on her sneakers and headed out the door. Before she fully realized what she was doing, she was running towards Central Park, a collection of Broadway's greatest hits blasting in her ears.

She was fit, long and lean with toned muscles from years of pilates and barre classes, but she'd never been a runner. Less than two miles in and her labored breathing reminded her of that, but she kept going, hoping that if she pushed her body to the point of total exhaustion and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other her brain would finally shut off.

The entire cast recording of Hamilton later and she found herself coming to a stop in a secluded area of the park, between a couple of large trees. Breathless, she collapsed against one of the trunks, tilting her head back until it made contact and closing her eyes. She took a few deep breaths to fill her lungs with the oxygen she'd been depriving them of.

As she sat, she willed her mind to just shut off. There were so many conflicting thoughts swirling around up there she felt like they were tripping over one another - barely giving her time to process one before another tumbled in. It didn't help that she could feel her anxiety spiking - a small ball in the bit of her stomach quickly turning into a boulder ready to roll through her veins, leaving her paralyzed. She wouldn't be able to control her anxiety until she could get a handle on the situation, and she wouldn't be able to get a handle on the situation until her thoughts would slow down and give her a goddamn minute to sort through them all.

Later in the day, after another shower and attempt to scrub and vacuum the ghosts of Harveys-past out of her apartment, she found herself on her way to Grace's townhouse, bottles of wine in hand. She knew what she needed, and it was the type of therapy only her sisters were able to provide.

Practically pounding on the front door, she tapped her foot impatiently as she waited on Grace. When the door finally swung open, she was met not just by Grace, but by Claire as well. She could hear the muffled noises of both of their children in the distance and felt her heart sink ever so slightly. She knew the two of them got their kids together without her, and it didn't bother her, but now, in this moment, it was yet another reminder of all the things she didn't have.

"Donna, wh- what are you doing here?" Grace asked.

Before Donna could answer, Claire jumped in.

"Well, clearly she's got a problem, Grace, she's holding six bottles of wine."

Giving her younger sister a shove that bumped her slightly into the doorframe, Grace practically hissed back at her, "shut up, Claire!"

Donna looked back and forth between her two sisters, trying to figure out how to put words to everything that she was feeling. Before she could, though, her emotions got the best of her and she felt hot tears prickling in her eyes and spilling down her face.

Her sisters moved towards her as one, catching her in their arms as she choked back sobs.

"I - Harvey - James - help me," was all she managed to get out as they ushered her into the townhouse and up the stairs to Grace's room. As they walked, Claire called out to her husband, who was camped out in the living room with Grace's husband, watching a game on TV while the kids played in the sunroom.

"Craig? Can you take the kids back to our apartment? We're gonna need a bit!"

Over the years, Donna had had a handful of friends she'd felt comfortable crying in front of, Rachel being one of them - but they were few and far between. Even with Rachel though, she'd never felt comfortable being as open and raw as she was with her sisters. Moments like this, with them, were the only time Donna allowed herself to be really vulnerable, to really breakdown and let everything out. After everything the trio had been through with their parents' divorce, this kind of vulnerability and unconditional support had become a cornerstone of their relationship - they saw each other at their worst, picked each other up from rock bottom, and built each other up into stronger versions of themselves. It was what they did for one another and, in this moment, it was what Donna really needed.

After depositing Donna on the floor of the bathroom, back resting against the tub, Claire grabbed a blanket off the end of Grace's bed and draped it across her lap. She reached to the counter to grab a box of tissues and began wiping the tears from Donna's eyes as they continued to fall. Behind her, Grace removed the bottles of wine from the bags Donna had brought them in and lined them up on the edge of the bathtub.

"Do we need glasses?" Grace asked, as she settled herself against the wall across from the tub, Claire taking her place next to Donna.

Slumping down farther into the floor, Donna sighed as she reached for the bottle closest to her.

"Not today."

"Alright, let me just get a cork-"

"They're twist off," Donna said as she broke the seal and took a long swig, before setting it down and passing a bottle each to Claire and Grace.

They followed her lead, breaking the seal and taking a sip. They sat in silence for a couple minutes as Donna took several more sips and wiped away more tears as they continued to fall. Finally, Grace set her bottle down next to her, and focused her attention on Donna.

"So," she started, using her foot to gently nudge Donna's leg, "are you going to sit here and drink in silence, or are you going to let us in on what's going on?"

Grace's bathroom floor and bottles of wine. It was what they did; they drank until they were drunk enough that the tears and the true feelings came. It wasn't exactly healthy, but it worked for them. Their mom had always said that drunk words were sober thoughts and the three of them had spoken some of their best and truest words on the floor of Grace's bathroom.

Donna took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a couple seconds. She didn't really know where to start, but she knew it didn't really matter. She just needed to start talking, let everything out that had been confided to the back of her brain for the last week, and hope that her sisters, and the wine, would be able to help her make sense of it all.

After a couple more sips of liquid courage, Donna sighed, and let it all come spilling out. She let them in on the realization she'd had earlier that week in her office about Harvey and James, and the dreams she'd had every night since. How, the few times she'd been intimate with James since, she'd pictered Harvey, even though she did everything she could not to. How she could hardly look him in the eye anymore without feeling ashamed and embarrassed about everything going on inside her head. How, despite her behavior - their short conversations and her quick escapes in the morning - he was still the same wonderful, compassionate man she'd enjoyed being with the past six months, which only made her feel worse. And how she could barely look at Harvey without her mind wandering to all the things he'd done to her in her dreams. She knew he'd caught her blushing a couple times, but she was thankful he'd had the tact to not call her out on it. She'd probably spent more time avoiding run ins with him in the halls and distancing herself from him in meetings than she'd spent doing work that week and it was exhausting.

By the time she finished talking, the bottle of wine next to her was nearly empty and the hairs near her face were damp from the tears that continued to fall. Claire reached for Donna's hand, which was resting on the floor between them, holding it between both of her own and resting it on her thigh. Grace moved from her spot opposite the two of them and sat down on Donna's other side, Donna's head falling to rest on her older sister's shoulder.

"Oh honey," Claire breathed, as she traced circles on the top of Donna's hand with her thumb. Grace reached behind her, broke the seal on another bottle of wine and passed it to Donna.

"You were right," Donna sighed, looking at Claire in between sips.

"About what?" Grace asked.

"James," Donna sighed, "he's the perfect guy; he's everything I want, but he's not -," she paused, wiping away a couple more tears.

"Harvey," Claire finished for her.

"And he loves me, and I want to love him back; I want to love him back so much it physically hurts, but I just can't bring myself to say it. Because he's not -"

"Harvey," Grace concluded.

Donna didn't respond, instead bending her knees and pulling her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She dropped her head between her legs as her tears started to fall harder. Behind her, Grace and Claire exchanged glances, if they were being honest, they both knew that they'd end up here one day - with Donna trying to come to terms with the feelings for Harvey she'd been repressing for years, but it broke both of their hearts to see how much it was destroying her.

"So," Claire started, "Harvey."

"You love him," Grace said plainly, as Donna brought her head back to rest on her shoulder, knees still pulled to her chest.

"Unfortunately," Donna breathed, which caused both her sisters to smile. "Right now, I really fucking hate him for putting me through this shit, but yes, I love him. I always have, I think, and as hard as I've tried to pretend I don't, or ignore it, or whatever, I just - I can't."

"What now?" Claire asked, hoping she wasn't pressing Donna too hard.

"I really, really don't know," Donna sighed, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Either I stay with James, keep wishing he was Harvey, and hate myself doing that to such a good man. Or I break up with James, go back to being single, and hate myself for being so pathetically in love with someone who's made it pretty clear he doesn't want to be with me."

"How do you know?" Grace asked.

"Know what?"

"Know that he doesn't want to be with you," she finished.

"Because he told me."

Grace paused, she hadn't known what she was expecting Donna to say, but she hadn't expected such a cut and dry response, especially considering the ambiguity that surrounded all things Harvey and Donna.

"I mean," Donna breathed, "not in those words. But when I kissed him he made me promise that I'd never do it again. And that told me all I needed to know."

"But did he kiss you back?" Claire asked.

"I," Donna paused, taking a moment to remember the kiss, the way his lips felt when they met hers. She hadn't even thought about that and honestly, she wasn't sure. "I really don't know."

Donna looked back and forth between her sisters, considering the question further. How had she not thought about that, she asked herself. She'd been so caught up in the fallout from the kiss that she hadn't dwelled too much on the kiss itself, except, of course, for her own realization that it made her feel everything.

"He - he may have?" Donna continued, "but if he did, how do I know he wasn't just reacting on instinct?"

Grace rolled her eyes, "Dee, if you don't want someone who's kissing you to be kissing you, it's pretty easy to not kiss them back," she said matter-of-factly. "Go downstairs and kiss my husband and let me know how he reacts."

Donna laughed and nudged her sister's side, "Gigi, that's not the same thing. So he may have kissed me back, but -"

"Donna, so help me God if you say 'but that doesn't mean anything' I am going to chuck you out this window," Claire retorted, passing her the bottle of wine she'd just opened.

"But," Donna started to argue, "if it did mean something, wouldn't something have changed? After he broke up with Paula? Or after Mike and Rachel's wedding?"

"From all you've told us about him, Donna," Grace started, "when has Harvey ever made a decision about his feelings without you there to guide him through it?"

Donna sighed, knowing Grace was right. But this time, it was different. This time, it was her feelings at stake too, and she couldn't trust herself to not let them interfere.

"You know I can't tell him how to feel on this one," Donna explained, tears once again starting to spill down her now dry face, " I can't risk confusing what he's actually feeling with what I want him to be feeling."

"No, you can't," Claire sighed, "but you need to tell him how you're feeling. And make him talk to you. Use your feelings to make him confront his own. You're Donna, he's Harvey, you can do that."

"Claire's right, Dee," Grace said, "you need to tell him. Yeah, it's going to be awkward, it's going to be uncomfortable, probably a little painful even, and you need to realize you may not get the answer you're after, but you need to talk to him. You're never going to be able to move on until you clear the air, get everything out in the open, and put words to all the assumptions you've both been holding on to for years."

As the three of them settled into Grace's king-sized bed, her husband exiled to the guest room for the night, Donna thought about what her sisters had said. Yeah, she knew that talking to Harvey and telling him how she felt was what she should do; if someone else were in her position that's what she'd be telling them to do, but anxiety washed over her body like a tidal wave at the mere thought of that conversation. She couldn't imagine how he'd react, but she knew it wouldn't be great, considering she promised him she'd never go there again. And she couldn't stand to make him angry like that. She couldn't lose him completely, couldn't go back to the times when he treated her like a stranger. So, she decided, as she snuggled between her sisters preparing for what was sure to be her best night's sleep in awhile, she'd stay with James as long as he'd have her, until he made her choose between him and Harvey. It was selfish, she knew, but she wasn't getting any younger and she was sick and tired of being alone, and when she thought about it, she'd rather be with the wrong person than with no one at all.

Harvey brought his hand to his brow as his eyes adjusted to the bright afternoon sunlight reflecting off the buildings. It was Sunday afternoon and he'd been cooped up in his office practically all weekend putting final details on a trial strategy he and Katrina had been working on for the better part of a year. He stood at the intersection, waiting for the light to change so he could cross the street and grab a much needed coffee and bagel when he noticed a petite, brunette woman crossing the side street and walking towards him. She looks familiar he thought, squinting to get a better look. He shook his head as she got closer, sure his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Harvey," the woman said, stopping in front of him.

"Scottie," he replied, slightly stunned to see her.

"What are you - " he started, trying his best to ask the question without sounding like a complete jackass, as he really was curious. Last he'd heard, she was planning to move to Boston to join a firm started by one of their Harvard classmates.

"-doing here?" she finished, interrupting him. "Don't worry, I'm not here for a case against you. My um - boyfriend lives a couple blocks from here and I'm on my way to meet him. Running into you was a complete coincidence, I promise."

"What happened to Boston?"

"I turned it down," she said simply, "turns out there are more important things than getting your name on the wall."

"That's great, Scottie," he said, smiling, "I'm happy for you." And he was, he really was. He'd always felt bad for how things ended romantically between them, and was glad to hear that he hadn't completely ruined things for her. He'd told her before that he cared about her, and he still did - not in the way he once thought those words meant - but she was one of his oldest friends, and he always wanted the best for her.

"What about you, Harvey?" she asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head to one side, "how are things with Donna?"

"With - Donna?" Harvey asked, thinking he knew what she meant by her question, but really hoping he was wrong.

"Well," she began, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, "based on our last conversation, it was pretty clear that she was the reason things didn't work out with your therapist - Pam, or whatever her name was. So I'm assuming you two finally got your shit together and are together now. Am I wrong?"

"She's seeing someone else," he replied shortly, hoping that answer would put an end to the conversation he really didn't want to be having, especially with her.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Harvey?!"

"Yeah, some finance guy named James who's friends with Louis' sister. She met him at their Hanukkah party. It's serious," he sighed, eyes glancing downward, "she's probably going to marry him."

Scottie didn't respond immediately, just stood in front of him, arms still crossed and eyes laser focused on him.

"Listen Scottie," he started, prepared to make a hasty exit back to the firm, resigned to go without the bagel and coffee he'd come out for, "it was great to see you, but I really need to -"

"No Harvey," she interrupted, bringing her hand to his forearm and turning him back to face her, "you listen to me."

"Scottie -"

"Donna loves you," she said simply, looking up at him trying to gauge his response to her words. "I'd be the first to admit that you're a hard person to love, but that woman has been doing just that every day for as long as I've known her, probably much to her chagrin most of the time."

"Scottie, stop," he said, sighing, "she's with someone else, she's happy with him."

"Harvey, if she's with someone else now, it's because she's trying to move on, or get over you, or because she thinks you don't want the same thing. But if you ever get the chance - if she ever gives you the chance, you should do something about it."

"Scottie, you know I would never -"

"I know, Harvey," she breathed, interrupting him again, "I'm not saying you need to mess with her relationship, but if the opportunity ever presents itself, don't waste it. And you better do a hell of a lot better than 'I want you in my life' this time," she added, giving him a playful shove as she says those last words, which brings a half hearted smile to his face.

"How do you know all this?" he asked, trying not to get excited at the possibility that her words could be true.

"I asked her once, point blank, if she was in love with you. It was back when Darby was at the firm and I was trying to make things work with us. She denied it, but she paused, and she just had this look on her face, almost like she was trying to convince herself she wasn't, not just me."

Just then, her phone started to ring. Pulling it out of her pocket, she looked down at it before looking back up at him.

"Ah, I've got to go, but it was good to see you Harvey. And please, just think about what I said. Life is not long - as much as you like to tell yourself it is."

And with that, and a quick, loose hug goodbye she was gone, her petite frame quickly swallowed up into the busy New York City streets. Harvey stood there, shocked not just by the conversation he'd just had, but also who he'd had it with. It wasn't until his own phone rang, Katrina asking him what was taking him so long - if he was out growing his own coffee beans - that he was brought back to reality. As he walked back to the office, he stored the conversation in the back of his brain, making a half hearted promise to himself to revisit it in a future session with Lipschitz.

It was several weeks later and Donna and James were in her apartment getting ready for a formal event at the firm. They were celebrating one year of Zane Specter Litt Wheeler Williams and Donna and Louis had spared no expense to make it a memorable evening.

At home, though, Donna had been focusing all her efforts on getting her relationship with James back on track, and keeping Harvey as far away from it as possible. Yes, she still hadn't surprised him with her own "I love you," but she was working up to it - as least that's what she kept telling herself. She decided instead, to show him how she felt; being extra attentive to him in bed, surprising him with lunch during a slow work day, suggesting date nights she knew he'd enjoy.

She knew her sisters weren't thrilled that she hadn't taken their advice, but they were being supportive of her attempt to make things work with James. They all had a good time when Donna had them over for dinner with James again, Grace inviting him to her twins' 5th birthday party. He'd met her sisters' husbands at that party, and it didn't go horribly. All things considered, Donna was taking that as a win.

And Harvey, well, she was working on it. His appearances in her dreams were becoming less and less frequent and she was limiting interactions with him at the office to strictly business. She didn't bring him coffee in the morning, didn't seek out his company when working late, and even had his secretary take their annual Del Posto dinner off his calendar. If he'd noticed that little change, he hadn't said anything.

Despite all that, though, she would be lying if she said that part of her wasn't dreading bringing James to the event. Not because she didn't want to spend time with him, but because she couldn't stand another run-in between him and Harvey. It took her nearly a month to get over the last one, and the last thing she needed was to hit that particular brand of rock bottom again. Still, her colleagues would be expecting to see him and she figured it'd be less exhausting to spend the entire evening avoiding Harvey than repeatedly explaining to those who asked why James wasn't by her side.

As they rode the elevator up to the 50th floor, Donna exhaled a long breath. James grabbed her hand that was resting between them and gave it a squeeze. He angled his face towards hers and planted a quick kiss on her cheek before whispering in her ear.

"Don't be nervous, tonight's going to be great."

Donna turned towards him, a small smile spreading across her face. If only he knew it wasn't the party I'm nervous about, she thought, shaking her head slightly.

"Thanks," she breathed, just as the elevator door dinged open.

After some small talk and quick introductions between James and some of the associates gathered in the lobby, Donna guided him deeper into the firm. Her hand was firmly clasped in his as they wove through the crowds of people and she wasn't sure if she was holding so tightly because she actually needed him to ground her, or because she just wanted people to think she did.

A little while later, James found himself standing at the bar as he watched Donna work the room, engaging colleagues, clients, and prospective clients alike in conversation. He was lost in thought nursing a glass of scotch when the arrival of a petite brunette woman at the bar broke him out of his daydream.

"What is it with lawyers at this firm and scotch?" she asked, gesturing towards his glass, "is it like a prerequisite of working here or something?"

"Oh," he started, turning to face her, "I'm not a lawyer, but I could ask you the same question," he finished, gesturing to the nearly identical glass in her hand.

"Jokes on you then," she said, leaning against the bar, "I don't work here anymore."

"But you used to though?" he asked.

"For a bit a couple years ago", she said, placing her glass on the bar and reaching for a handful of peanuts, "but it turns out having your college boyfriend as your boss is bad for business."

James sighed and gave her a small smile as he turned to look out at the party. In a corner of the room, he noticed Donna and Harvey engaged in what looked like a hushed, but tense conversation - probably about client business, he thought.

"What's the deal with the two of them?" he asked, gesturing to the pair in the corner.

"Who? Harvey and Donna?" she let out a breathy laugh as she said their names, "how much time do you have?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's - they're complicated," she admitted.

"How?"

"They've been working together forever - basically since the start of both of their careers. They have this ridiculously infuriating codependent relationship, like - if Donna killed someone and asked Harvey help her hide the body, he'd do it, no questions asked."

Scottie paused, taking a second to gauge the man's reaction. She had no idea who he was, or why he was asking, and part of her felt bad for being so candid with him. She decided to continue though, knowing what she was about to say wasn't any worse than the rumors that had been flying around the firm, and the entire New York legal community, about the pair of them for years. She figured he'd heard those, and was looking to her to either confirm or deny.

"They fight like an old married couple and are at each other's throats half the time but - they're a team. They just work. And everyone who works here can see they're so helplessly in love with one another; except they're too stupid, or blind, or stubborn to admit it."

"Huh," James breathed, nodding his head slightly as he absorbed all that Scottie was telling him.

"Harvey told me a couple weeks ago that Donna's seeing someone, and he thinks it's serious, but I know it's not going to last. They've never been able to make it work with anyone else because, well, they're soulmates. I just hope they realize it soon because fifteen years of this shit is a long damn time and no one's getting any younger."

Downing the last of his scotch and setting the glass down on the bar, he turned towards her.

"Well, thank you. You've been very - informative."

"Anytime," she said, smiling and extending her hand to shake his before realizing he'd never introduced himself.

"James," he said, extending his own hand to meet hers.

"Scottie," she replied.

As the night came to an end, Scottie found herself in conversation with several Harvard classmates she hadn't seen in years. As the crowds thinned, she glanced around the lobby, hoping to find someone she knew so she could use them as an excuse to exit the current conversation, which had switched to babies and birthday parties and she had absolutely no interest.

As her eyes continued to wander, she saw Donna with someone - presumably the man she was seeing - on her arm heading towards the elevators. The pair turned to say goodnight to Louis and Sheila, and as they did, she gasped. The man with Donna was the man she'd met at the bar - the man she'd told that Donna's current relationship had no future.

Before she could even start to feel bad or embarrassed about what she'd said, she thought that it might be for the best that he knew. God knows, she'd have appreciated someone telling her that she and Harvey were never going to make it before she spent too many years and bottles of wine to count trying to fit a very square peg in a very round hole.

James was quiet during the ride back to his apartment, where they'd decided to spend the night. Donna was used to comfortable silence between them, but this was different, he seemed tense, and she wasn't sure what could be causing it. His silence remained as they arrived at his apartment and got ready for bed. She could feel her anxiety growing as a result of his uncharacteristic behavior - usually he was the chatty one and she was quiet - but she wasn't sure what to say to break the ice.

Finally, while she was in the bathroom brushing her teeth, he came to stand in the doorway. Leaning against one side and crossing his arms across his chest, he broke the silence.

"I just need to know, are you ever going to say it?"

Startled both by his sudden presence and his question, she coughed, the water and toothpaste in her mouth spilling out and dribbling down her chin. She stood up straight and grabbed a washcloth, wiping her face clean before responding.

"What," she paused, trying to get a read on his expression, trying to understand if he was angry, hurt, frustrated, or some combination of the three, "are you talking about?"

"I've told you I love you, Donna. I think I've made it abundantly clear how I feel about you. But I just want to know, are you ever going to be able to say it back?

"James," she started, taking a step backwards and leaning against the counter. She wasn't sure where his insecurity was coming from. He'd always been so confident, so self-assured, and his departure from that was making her anxious. She brought her hands behind her to rest on the counter, steadying herself. She closed her eyes and breathed a slow exhale.

"You don't need to say it tomorrow, or even next week, Donna," he continued, "but I just want to know, do I make you happy?"

"I -," she paused, closing her eyes again, realizing she had no idea how to respond to his question.

"Am I wasting my time here?"

His tone wasn't accusatory, and she knew he wasn't trying to force her hand, but just the subject of their conversation made it feel like the walls were closing in on her, the room was growing narrower and narrower and her only escape was getting farther and farther away from her. She knew that she needed to move now or she'd be rooted to the spot for the foreseeable future.

Before taking a step though, she glanced up at him and took in his expression. He looked sad and a bit deflated; a complete 180 from the content and excited expression he was wearing earlier in the night. It hit her then - something must have happened at the party. Someone must have said something to him about her, about them. And she could only think of one person brazen and selfish enough to go there.

"No, you're not but -," she paused, standing up and leaving the bathroom. She quickly gathered her purse and coat and reached into his closet for a pair of tennis shoes she'd left there last weekend. Turning to him before leaving the bedroom, she continued.

"I'm sorry, I can't stay here tonight - I have to go."

He sank down into the corner of his couch, glass of scotch in hand. With the soft jazz music playing in the background, his eyes fluttered closed and he dozed off. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep when he was awoken by a pounding on his door.

Setting his glass down on the counter, he moved to open it, wondering who it could possibly be this late at night. As he swung the door open, he was surprised to see who stood on the other side.

"Donna -" he started as she pushed past him into the apartment, moving to stand in the middle of his living room.

As she turned to face him, he could tell she was angry, but about what, he wasn't sure. Still, he couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face as he took her in. She was wearing leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair was twisted into a loose bun on the top of her head, her face scrubbed free of the dramatic makeup she was wearing earlier in the evening, and she was wearing glasses. He'd seen casual Donna before, but the glasses were a new addition and he couldn't help but think how good they looked on her.

"What the hell did you do, Harvey?"

"Donna, I have no idea what you're talking about."

And he didn't, he genuinely had no clue. Usually, when Donna said something along those lines, he knew it was coming, knew he had skirted some rule or took something too far and was just biding his time until she came and called him on his bullshit. He racked his brain to think about what she could mean, and what would be so important to address at this hour, but he came up empty.

"You did something, said something, to James tonight, didn't you?" she practically spat at him from across the room.

"Donna, what?" he asked "I barely saw the man all night. Besides, you know I'd never mess with your relationship."

"Do I?" she asked defensively, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Donna," he said, his voice relaxed and level as he took a tentative step towards her, hoping to calm her down, "yes, I want you to be happy. I'd never do anything to mess with that."

She didn't respond, just continued to stare at him, arms crossed, eyes practically shooting out laser beams at him.

"Are you -," he paused, knowing, given her current state, that the question was probably risky, but continued anyways, "are you happy?"

"Oh my god," she yelled, uncrossing her arms and dropping them by her side, raising her hands slightly out to either side, "I'm getting really fucking tired of people asking me that question."

By her reaction, he understood that whatever was making her so upset was more than whatever was or wasn't said to James that night. He didn't know what was wrong, but wanted to help her in whatever way he could. He hated seeing her this upset, especially when he didn't know what to do to comfort her.

"Donna, what can I do?" he asked, taking another small step towards her. "How can I help?"

"Don't even, Harvey," she said, her voice a bit calmer now. "You've done enough."

"Donna, I'm sorry." He figured apologizing was the least he could do, even though he still wasn't sure what had gotten her so worked up.

She didn't respond immediately. Insead, she walked to the other side of his couch to the side table where his scotch decanter sat and helped herself to a glass. She took a few deep breaths and Harvey noticed that she seemed calmer now, over the initial burst of anger that had brought her to his apartment.

"Donna, please. Just let me know what I can do."

"You know what you can do Harvey?" she said as she leaned against the back of his couch, not even making an effort to mask the sarcasm and disdain in her voice. "You can get the hell out of my head and let me fall in love with him."

Harvey hadn't really known what he'd expected her to say, but he certainly wasn't expecting to hear the words she'd just spoken. He felt like he'd just been slapped in the face and was sure his facial expression matched the hollow feeling in his gut.

Donna, too, was surprised by what she'd just said, and immediately blamed the amount of alcohol coursing through her veins, both from the event at the firm and the glass of scotch she'd just drank in a few gulps, for her bluntness. But she couldn't take it back now. Maybe what she needed was to let it all out, tell him how much she hated him for making her love him so much, how she would give anything to get over him and be happy in her relationship with someone who actually wants to be with her. After a few deep breaths, she prepared to let the floodgates open.

"He's a catch, Harvey, he's kind, and affectionate, and smart, and so thoughtful. And he wants to be with me, he loves me and I just can't - , because I -, because you -"

She paused, took a breath, and shifted her gaze down to the floor, knowing the second she made eye contact with him all of her courage would be gone and she wouldn't be able to keep talking.

"And I'm so fucking tired. Tired of coming home to an empty apartment, tired of not having someone to celebrate the little things with, tired of watching Grace and Claire get closer and leave me behind because I can't relate to them on things like marriage and motherhood."

As she spoke, she felt tears spill from her eyes and drip down her cheeks. She hated that she was crying, especially about this, and in front of Harvey. She moved her hand to her face and quickly wiped them away, hoping he didn't see.

But he did see them, and it pulled on something inside him to see her so upset. He knew she just needed to get whatever she was feeling out, so he said nothing, just took a small step closer to her and waited for her to continue.

"I hate that despite everything you've done, despite how awful you've been to me, how much shit you put me through in just the last year - you're everywhere. And I want to hate you, I want to hate you so much, but I just can't. And I really hate that."

She finished, letting out a long exhale and bringing her hand to her cheek to wipe away the few more tears that had fallen. She was sure that nothing she'd just said made any sense to him - she could barely follow it herself, but she said what she needed to say. She dared to look up at him, her need to make sure he was ok annoyingly outweighing the need to protect herself.

He stood halfway across the room, looking utterly confused. His eyes were wide, searching her own for answers, and his mouth was slightly agape. She could tell that his mind was spinning - he wanted to say something, wanted to ask her a question, but didn't know where to start.

She stared at him, willing him to say something - anything - to break the silence. She'd laid her cards on the table and needed to know his reaction before she made her next move. The longer the silence went on, the more the feelings of anxiety rose from the pit of her stomach into her throat and down her arms. Every second that passed brought her a second closer to running out the door and never looking back.

Finally, he spoke. She heard him draw in a breath and saw his feet take a couple steps across the floor, bringing him closer to her position on the back of the couch.

"Donna, I - I don't know what to say."

And it was true. They both knew words and feeling weren't his strong suit, but he hoped she'd appreciate the fact that he'd chosen to not really say anything rather than risk saying the wrong thing and bringing back the anger she'd had when she arrived at his apartment.

But, judging from the way she turned her head away from him, rolled her eyes, and coughed out a laugh, he realized that somehow he'd still managed to say the wrong thing.

"Screw you, Harvey," she deadpanned as she pushed herself to standing and made her way to the door, "I just told you all that, and that's the best you can do?"

"Donna," he all but pleaded as she walked by him, bumping his shoulder slightly.

"No, really, Harvey. What more do I need to do before you get it?"

She turned around as she reached the door, finding him right behind her. She was going to leave it at that, but figured what the hell, she'd already hit rock bottom with her yelling, confessions, and tears that night, why not keep on falling.

"I kiss you, you ignore it. I dance with you for hours at our best friends' wedding, you ignore it, I tell you I can't fall in love with my boyfriend because I can't stop thinking about you, you don't know what to say."

Once again, her eyes are laser focused on his and knows he needs to get his response right or this could really be it for them, the point of no return where he'd lose her, not just as a friend, but probably as a colleague as well. And the thought of that made him want to drop to his knees.

"But, you said you didn't feel anything."

"I lied," she said shortly, and before he could respond, she'd turned on her heel and the door was slamming in his face, her on the other side of it.

"I want more," he breathed, the echo of his words ringing through his empty apartment.

Thanks for reading! As always, please let me know what you think and leave a review!