.

He goes to the firm.

The whole building is empty, the corridors of their offices dark and deserted; it compliments his mood perfectly. He stops in front of the reception desk, looks left to his office, but turns right towards hers. Reaching it, he stops in the doorway, leaning against the glass. There's a vase with fresh flowers on her desk, and he knows it's from him and he knows he should leave well enough alone.

He walks over and fishes out the card.

It's been a pleasure working with you, Donna. Here's hoping we are just as compatible outside of the offices. T.K.

Harvey rolls his eyes, flicking the card away. It lands on her desk. He doesn't waste any time, he'll give him that. Fourteen days instead of fourteen years. He still hates his guts, but he can't say he doesn't get it. Donna is not someone a man would want slipping between his fingers.

Not unless he was a complete idiot.

Exiting her office, he considers going back to his own, getting blindingly drunk and passing out, but he thinks better of it. He goes back for the elevators and presses the button for the roof. He wants to see the city welcoming the new year. Afterwards, who knows. The original plan of sofa and scotch still looks pretty damn good.

.

The air is cold and smells of winter. Harvey takes a lungful of it, feels it burn in his chest, feels it clear his head. He's been standing there for long enough his feet are starting to get cold when he hears the doors behind him and knows it's her. He knows her step.

"Couldn't find somewhere warmer to stew?" she asks, approaching him.

"I needed to cool off," he replies because it's true. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"Well, actually," she comes to stand next to him. "I figured you'd be getting drunk in your office." His lips tug against his will. "But then I found it empty and this was my next stop." She leans against the wall, her hands in the pockets of her coat.

Sometimes it scares him that she knows him as well as she does. "Shouldn't you be at the gala anyway?" With your date is unsaid but understood.

"I've had enough of the festivities for one night."

Harvey hangs his head, closing his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It only just happened. There's not that much to tell."

Neither mention the fact that she doesn't owe him an explanation in the first place.

Harvey nods. "I hate being blindsided."

"I know."

"It bothers me," he says into the corner of his mouth, sneaking a sideways glance at her.

"I figured that. Subtle as it was."

Harvey smiles, looking away. He didn't include the usual addendum, the "it doesn't mean" crap that's lost its credibility a good long while ago. He's trying truth for size tonight.

"We smile and drink and flirt, and we do it more than we ever did," he muses quietly. "You're the one I call when my brother is getting a divorce. Hell, you're the one my brother calls when he's getting a divorce."

"I guess I am."

"Our normal isn't normal, is it," he glances at her for confirmation. Considering he just spent fifty grand instead of telling her he wants to be the one kissing her at midnight – kissing her at any time of any day – he thinks the question is pretty rhetorical.

Donna smiles down at her hands as they fold on the concrete wall. "No. It's not."

He turns back to the city. "I never realized. We've always just been," he pauses. "Us."

"Don't feel too bad. I was pretty clueless about a lot of it for a long time, too. And I'm so much better at this than you." He can hear a smile in her voice, and that's a relief. And then it's gone. "All of them saw it. Mark. Scottie and Paula. Thomas." She snorts, "God, even Stephen Huntley saw it."

He wants to ask what "it" is, but he's pretty sure "it" cannot be put into words. He kind of knows, anyway. "So just us then."

"Just us."

And that sounds about right, and it sounds perfect.

But it's not just them, not in that way. And he had his chance – he had several, in fact – and now he owes her an apology. She shouldn't be skipping on parties and dates on New Year's Eve to nurse his pride on the rooftop of an empty building.

"I'm sorry for ruining your night, Donna," he mumbles. Deserved or not, apologies never did come easy to him. "I was an ass."

Next to him, Donna lets out an undignified snort. "That's one way of putting it."

Harvey moves his jaw in a hopeless effort to hide a smile. "How would you put it."

"A huge fucking idiot."

"Wow," his eyebrows skyrocket. "Can't believe I paid fifty grand for such a potty mouth."

"Buyer's regrets?" she asks, tipping her head inquisitively.

Never. But also, "Yeah. I shouldn't have done that."

"Can you repeat that? I want to record it this time."

Harvey makes a face, but then he catches her eyes, his words serious, "I really am sorry, Donna."

Donna sighs, shrugging, "Let's face it. That whole auction was just a disaster waiting to happen." She lifts her hand, palm up. "Personally, I blame Louis."

"Seems fair," he agrees. She lets him off too easily. She usually does.

He feels them slipping into their normal again, except it doesn't fill him with a sense of ease or reassurance. Instead, he feels slightly irritated. He looks over at her. She's looking out at the city lights, her hair in her coat, her arms hugging her middle. It's started to snow, and her hair is peppered with white flecks. He wants to run his fingers over them, feel them melt under his touch. Feel her melt under his touch.

He wonders when he became such a sap. Realizes with stark clarity she's always been his soft spot, his greatest weakness.

Their normal is the farthest thing from.

He hears singing somewhere down below. Donna hears it, too, because she starts humming. He loves her voice.

He loves everything about her.

"I think it's happening."

Her voice brings him out of his reverie. "What is?"

"The new year," she lifts her finger and puts it in front of her ear. "Can you hear that?"

The city is quieter. Somewhere in the distance, he hears the countdown. It's not quite passionate enough to be the final ten. Glancing down at his watch, he sees they still have about thirty seconds left.

"I guess we're ringing in the new year at Zane Specter Litt Wheeler Williams."

She turns to face him. "That just shaved off at least ten seconds."

He smiles at the dig but he's really smiling at her. A snowflake lands on her nose and she brushes it away.

She'll move on and you'll end up alone.

Another snowflake catches on her eyelashes. She blinks and then his arm is moving of its own accord, his thumb gently brushing it away. He sees her throat bob and her lips part. He stares at them.

"Donna," he starts but is interrupted by ten, nine, eight.

He licks his lips and she does the same. Taking a step closer – five – he can feel her breath washing over his face, so warm against the cold.

She's seeing someone.

Only just.

It's New Year's Eve.

It's an excuse.

There are bangs and cheers as the clock strikes midnight and they enter the new year.

Harvey takes the plunge.

Closing the distance, he presses his mouth against hers softly. Her eyes are hooded and he looks at her for a long moment as his lips start to move against her gently, and then he's closing his eyes as she softly returns the kiss. His thumb brushes along her jaw, fingers digging into her hair as the fireworks explode over them.

"Happy New Year, Donna," he murmurs against her lips.

"Happy New Year, Harvey."

Pulling away, he forces himself to step back. His hand slips from her face and down her hair, his thumb lingering on the skin below her ear before he retrieves his hand completely. They look at each other for a moment, neither moving. Taking a deep breath, he turns his head to the exit. "Come on, it's freezing. Let's get you back to the party."

He's halfway across the roof when he hears, "Wait, that's it?" He turns around to find Donna hasn't moved except to turn and stare incredulously at him. "We're just leaving it like this. Again?"

He wonders if she's comparing it to the time he told her he loved her or the time she kissed him and fled. Maybe both. They have a lot of unfinished conversations.

There are about a dozen different thoughts running through his head, so he latches on to the most pressing one. "You're on a date."

"Am I," she asks, lifting her arms in question. "Cause it seems to me like I'm on a rooftop with you, freezing my ass off and having the same conversation we've been having in one form or another for well over a decade now!"

"What are you saying?"

She takes a tentative step forward but doesn't advance any further. "Why did you kiss me, Harvey?" It's barely above a whisper.

He knows why and he thinks she should, too. "What do you think, Donna," he says, mouth pulling to the side, eyes never leaving hers. It's a rhetorical question that's not a question at all. It's an answer.

Donna disagrees. "I think," she starts and he can already tell she's wrong. "It's New Year's Eve and it's natural, to feel lonely, to wonder about the future. And seeing me with someone else on top of all the recent upheavals –"

He looks at her blankly as she ticks off all the things she thinks would make him kiss her. All except the fucking truth.

She notices his expression because she stops. "What?"

"I was just wondering how someone who prides herself on knowing people so well can be so incredibly wrong about this."

"Am I, though?"

"I wasn't honoring a tradition, Donna," he exclaims, his hand waving at the spot where he kissed her. "That wasn't some perfunctory kiss because it was midnight and you were the only one here."

She's staring at him, her mouth parted, unblinking. He shakes his head in disbelief; for all her emotional intelligence and intuitive nature and perceptive mind, it's going to have to be him who finally puts it into words.

"Okay, you want to know why I kissed you, Donna? Here it is," he takes a step in a subconscious gesture. "I kissed you because, yeah, it's New Year's Eve, which means I'm looking at another year where I don't get to have the one thing that I actually want." His gaze never falters from hers, no matter how strong the instinct is. "And the thought of you moving on doesn't just bother me. It's fucking killing me," he says, getting the words out before his brain catches up with his mouth.

Her lips form an o and he thinks she's going to say something, but he's started now and he's going to goddamn finish it.

"I'm tired of not having this conversation and missing my chance, but mostly I'm just tired of not kissing you." He purses his lips, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "I kissed you because I love you, Donna. That's how I love you. You wanted to know how? This is how!"

He feels out of breath, like he's just run a mile instead of simply saying what's been on his mind for most of the night. For most of the decade.

It takes a moment for Donna to get her bearings, and he sees the exact moment she does. Taking a deep breath, she moves a step closer to him. "After you left," she says quietly, looking down at her shoes and the thin white layer of snow underneath them. "I told Thomas we wouldn't be seeing each other anymore."

Harvey's heart feels like it's going to beat its way out of his chest. "You did."

"I did."

"Why?"

She arches an eyebrow at him. "Are you seriously that clueless?"

He thinks he might be. But then he thinks about her dating someone else and not feeling anything and maybe he's not so much clueless as she's really bad at giving clues. "Let's just say I like a safe bet."

He expects her to roll her eyes at him while covering up a smile; it's what usually happens when he's being obtuse. Instead, the look she gives him is open and serious and significant. "It's been how many years, Harvey? And I'm still here, ringing in yet another year with you. What the hell more do you want?"

Not a goddamn thing.

Striding across the concrete, he's in front of her in three long steps and then his hands are on her waist and his lips press against hers, firm and sure. It's not gentle or tentative this time, he isn't testing the waters. He's diving in, head first, and that's not something he saw himself ever doing.

Donna loves proving him wrong.

He feels her mouth open under his, catching on his upper lip as her fingers press into his chest, travelling under the collar of his coat. He hums when he feels them sneaking under his scarf and brushing the side of his neck, his tongue sliding against her bottom lip. He tilts his head to the other side, changing the angle of the kiss, deepening it further. Leaning into him, her arms slide around his neck, her nails on the back of his head and the sensation travels all the way down his spine.

It's really cold now, but he doesn't feel it with Donna pressed against him, her warm open mouth moving against his as she lets her tongue glide along his own. Groaning, he tightens his hold on her and pulls her tighter against him, walking them back to the door.

"Where are we going?" she murmurs between kisses.

"Somewhere we don't risk dying of hypothermia," he feels for the handle. "I don't want our first kiss this year to also be our last."

Donna pulls back slightly. "No," she says, her thumbs brushing the spot behind his ears. "We wouldn't want it to be the last."

He's going for a satisfied smirk but all he manages is a happy smile. "Definitely not."

His lips brush against hers as he presses the handle and pulls her inside.

"So, what were you planning to do after you were done brooding on the roof?"

Harvey shoots her a look. She can be such a smartass sometimes. "I had a date with that bottle of scotch in my office."

Donna looks at him, cocking her head and lifting her eyebrow in silent suggestion.

He gets the message. "Donna," he says her name in that low tone he knows for a fact gets to her. "Would you like to join me for drinks in my office?"

Scanning his face, her eyes land on his lip. She bites her own. "I really hope that's a euphemism for sex." Her voice is sultry and Harvey feels himself responding.

His hand is firm on her back as they make their way downstairs.

.

The ride down to their floor isn't long but it is excruciating.

They're standing close enough to touch, but it's as if neither dares to do it; as if the slightest contact would make it impossible to make it to his office.

She gets out of the elevator first, and she's just starting to round the corner for his office when he stops her. His hand on her wrist, he yanks her back as he steps forward and she doesn't have time to react before he's kissing her. She moans, her mouth opening to him, her hands grabbing his face to pull him closer. They stumble down the corridor to his office, his hands on her hips guiding her back as she parts his scarf. His coat is next and she pushes it off his shoulders just as he backs her up against his closed office door.

"Fuck, Donna," he breathes. "I can't believe," he pauses, trying to catch his breath.

"That we're about to fuck in your office?"

Harvey lifts his head to find her smirking. "I was gonna say that it's taken us this long to do this." Her face softens at his words as his expression turns playful, "But the other thing, too."

"Well, if we were ever going to do it, tonight's the night," she says as she opens the glass door. "The building is completely empty."

He follows her inside, his two fingers hooking around her own. "People are out celebrating," he points out.

"There's a lot to celebrate," she says, a significance to her words. Taking her coat off, she places it on the armchair next to her.

He takes her in, standing there in her red dress that goes just perfectly with her red hair and pale skin; here in his office, with him. He has to agree. "There sure is."

She turns around and goes for his drinks tray. Pouring them each a scotch, she walks over to him and hands him his glass. "Thought we should have one. It's tradition after all."

He raises a little toast at her and she smiles as she does the same. She's sipping on hers, but he finishes his in record time, placing it on the table next to him.

"Impatient, are we," she chuckles, eyeing his glass.

"Don't get me wrong, Donna," he says, stepping closer to her. "I enjoyed each and every one of our drinking sessions. But if I have a choice between having a drink and having you on my desk, I know which one I'm choosing."

Letting out a bemused chuckle, Donna says, "I knew you had a desk fantasy."

"Of course I have a desk fantasy."

He watches as she walks over to the desk, running a finger along it and he feels himself harden at the sight. Putting her unfinished drink down, she props herself up, pulling on her dress a little so it bunches up around her thighs, and sits herself on the edge. Harvey watches her, the tip of his tongue touching his back teeth. "Donna," he says, his voice just a little strained. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" And she has a point, it was a stupid question. "Happy New Year, Harvey," she says and he wants to chuckle at that but he suddenly finds it hard to swallow.

He approaches her slowly, unbuttoning the cuffs on his sleeves, undoing his tie, taking her in. Strawberries and whipped cream aside, this really is the ultimate fantasy.

Happy New Year to him is right.

Closing the distance, he runs a gentle finger over her cheek, pushing her hair away and behind her ear. Tilting her head up and leaning in, she places a gentle kiss on his lips. The movement makes his hand slip in her hair, his fingers threading through the soft strands.

"Show me," she reaches out for his hand, places it on her thigh. "Show me what you've wanted to do to me here over the last twelve years."

"Fuck, Donna."

"That's a start," she comments and he groans.

With both hands on top of her thighs, he bunches the dress under his fingers, pushing the material up her legs slowly. Spreading his palms, he runs them back down then up again, never once looking away from her face. Her lips part on a breath when he hitches her dress all the way up to her hips and he wants to take pride in that, that she seems so affected by his ministrations, but he's too fucking gone himself to bask in that now.

Returning to her knees, he hooks his fingers behind them, bringing her closer to the edge of the desk, her panties now just barely brushing against his erection. Moving forward, he presses against her and she moans.

His hands fly to her hips, his thumbs sliding along the apex of her thighs then just above her pussy as he kisses her, long and hard, their tongues meeting in a desperate need to taste. Her hands find his belt as her knees close around him. He puts his on the outside of her left knee, bringing it up and holding it there. Lets her undo his belt and unbutton his pants because he's getting uncomfortable.

Just as her fingers find his erection, Harvey stops her. "Wait."

"Why," Donna whines and he nearly laughs at how eager and frustrated she sounds.

"Because," he explains, his thumb caressing her palm as he drags it away. "You wanted me to show you what I've been wanting to do to you on this desk." He pushes her gently down until she's resting on her elbows, her eyes dark and expecting. "And that's exactly what I intend to do."

Licking her lips, Donna gives him a small nod and Harvey's lips quirk in a smile. Tearing his eyes away, he looks down her body, her heaving chest and her long legs; her red underwear peeking from where her dress is riding up at her middle.

He's unsure where to start. There are too many things he's wanted to do to her – with her – over the years. Taking a moment, he indulges in just looking at her, splayed in front of him and looking up at him with amusement and desire and love, Jesus Christ, so much love, and he really has been clueless.

Donna can make anyone feel like they're the most important person in the room. She's always made him feel like he's the most important person to her.

Running his fingers up her calves and over her knees, he pushes her legs apart, his fingers skimming along the insides of her thighs. She gives a moan as he reaches the edge of her panties, feels along the edge, runs his thumb across just to see how she reacts. He finds her already wet and it's him thrusting forward, groaning deep in his throat.

He wants to run his hands all over the bare skin of her stomach, but the dress is in the way. The sound out of his throat is one of frustration, "I didn't think this through."

She doesn't seem to mind, her hips circling, looking for friction. "Harvey," she urges, but he stills her hips, pretty damn impressed with his own self-control.

He's too turned on to demand she get off the desk and unzip her dress, so he makes do and it's pretty high up there as fantasies go. Pushing her knees down, he gives his thumb and index a quick suck before he places them over her panties, feeling her swollen clit underneath the material.

Moaning, she collapses until she's lying flat across his desk, her palm flying to her forehead as he rubs wet circles on her clit. Blindly feeling for the lacy edge, he watches her face as he sneaks his thumb inside. The way she screws her eyes shut when he presses down; the way her lips fall apart as he starts to lazily massage the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Jesus, Harvey," she swallows down the words and they come out broken.

Moving his thumb down, he feels her wetness, smears it up and over her. When he goes to do it again, she pushes her hips forward in blatant invitation.

"Patience," he murmurs.

Moving her hand from her forehead, she cracks her eyes open to look at him. "Harvey, I've been patient for twelve years. I've had enough of waiting."

God, he can relate to that sentiment.

Pulling her panties down her legs, he takes them off, takes her shoes with them and they fall to the floor with a thud. Grabbing her hips, he pulls her forward until her naked pussy is pressed against his hardon; he rubs fervently against her.

He trails his hands up her sides and over her breasts, cupping them. She's not wearing a bra and her nipples peak through the material as he runs his fingers over them; her hips buckle up off the desk. She takes him by the wrist and brings his hand to her mouth. She looks him straight in the eye before she sucks on two of his fingers and then it's him thrusting forward because shit goddammit.

She releases his fingers with a plop. "Please."

He slides the two fingers slowly inside her pussy, watching her head fall back as he fills her. "Is this what you want?"

She nods, clenching around him, "More."

He adds a third finger and God she feels so tight. Pulling them out, he pushes back again, her hips starting to move in time with him fucking her, and he brings his other hand down, placing the thumb over her clit just as he curls the fingers inside her.

"Shit," she cries out, pushing up to sitting, as one of her hands grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. Throwing her legs around him, she moans into his mouth, "Harvey. It's time for you to come inside."

He thanks God, the stars, the universe that he doesn't come right then and there.

He pushes his pants down and she fusses with his underwear until both are around his calves and he's sliding into her hand. "I wanted to," he pauses when she smears his precome over his throbbing tip.

"You were saying?" she has the audacity to ask.

Fingers sliding out of her and over her clit, he says, "I wanted to do more."

Her eyes flutter closed as he continues to tease her soaking pussy. "There's time for all that, Harvey."

His hand stills when the truth of it sinks in. There's time for everything. Forehead resting against hers, he nods, "I guess there is."

Giving his dick a slow stroke, she guides it to her, rubbing herself with the tip. He's so goddamn sensitive and she's so incredibly wet. Looking down between them, he watches as she brings herself pleasure with his cock, making them both skirt on the edges of an orgasm.

"Donna," he grunts as his hands travel up, roaming her sides and her back, thumbing along her clavicle. "Donna, please."

She pulls back a little, her breathing labored but her eyes suddenly clear and there's something there. Something relevant. She scoots that bit forward and he feels her guide him to her entrance. He holds his breath and her stare, forcing himself to stay still and not push into her like he desperately wants to.

"What?" he asks because it's clearly something.

She shakes her head once. "I'm never leaving you, Harvey," she says, quiet and certain. "Ever. No matter what." Her brow softens, her face solemn, "I just need you to know that." He frowns because he has no idea where the hell this is coming from, but he'll take it. He'll fucking take it.

"Okay," he says simply because he doesn't really know what else to say.

"Okay," she nods, content that he knows.

And he does. He's sure he'll think his way out of that knowledge a hundred times over just like he has done in the past, but he knows it in his bones.

Him and Donna, they're forever.

A small push of his hips and he's inside her, feeling her stretch and mould to accommodate him and he takes his time. They have plenty of it.

He's pulling her into him with hands on her spine and on the back of her head, grasping for hair and skin and her. His nose is aligned with hers and she nudges it, his head tipping to one side, to the other, their eyes locked as he fucks her slowly, deliberately.

With each thrust, he fills her completely, hitting her in just the right place. He feels her nails dig into his thigh, his buttock, urging him to go harder. Her eyes start to close and a moan escapes her lips and he captures it with his own. She returns the kiss, catching his lip between her teeth then soothing it with her tongue.

Chasing her lips, he falls forward, one hand on the desk, the other under her ass, her fingers around his neck for support as he fucks her faster. He still has his shirt on and his tie dangles undone around his neck, and this is everything he ever fantasized about, and it's nothing like it at all. This is more.

His head falls to her chest, his lips and tongue on her skin, and she cradles him there as he pounds into her, her breath hot in his hair. Fingers under her find their way to her clit and it doesn't take much, even with the awkward angle, to make her come. She digs her fingers into his scalp, her heel on the back of his thigh as she becomes rigid in his arms, under his fingers, around his cock, clenching and unclenching, bringing him to the very edge.

He lifts his head to see her let go, her head cast backwards and her lip between her teeth, and he keeps his eyes right there as he speeds up, needy and desperate, so close, so fucking –

"Let go," she says and he didn't even realize she's opened her eyes and is looking at him, and God, it's Donna, in his office, on his desk, under him and around him. Harvey closes his eyes as he spills inside her, his head falling to her chest, muffling the moans into her skin.

They stay like that for awhile. He runs his fingers everywhere as he softens inside her and she makes a mess of his hair.

"Happy New Year to us," he hums, kissing her shoulder.

This year is going to be good. It's going to be theirs.

.

Eventually, the desk becomes too hard and the office too cold, so they clean up – each other and the office; her whiskey glass they find next to his desk, having been knocked over at some point – and head home. He's not sure where home is and he doesn't think she is, either, but they're going somewhere and they're going there together, so he doesn't really think it matters.

They're exiting the elevator into the lobby when he remembers.

"So, you gonna tell me what Louis promised you in exchange for doing the auction?"

"Nope," she replies, being difficult.

"See, that won't work," he points out. "We're together now, you can't keep secrets in a relationship."

He's waving his arm to emphasize his point, looking over at her, except she's not there. Turning around, he sees her a few steps behind.

Smiling.

He rolls his eyes. "What."

"Nothing," she catches up, linking her arm in his.

They exit the building into a flurry of white. He turns to her. "I'm really glad I bought you, Donna."

That takes her by surprise and she laughs, smacking his shoulder. Ray comes round to open the door for them. "Joke's on you, mister," she smirks, bringing her lips to his ear. "I was yours all along."

She ducks inside the car, leaving him standing there, getting covered in snow, grinning like a goddamn idiot.

Fin.