When she says baby, well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes and the rain's gonna wash away, I believe this.
- Matchbox 20, 3am
Samantha Wheeler, renowned lawyer -effortless style- and exceptional at manipulating people, slams her shot down on the bar pulling her face into a tight wince as she blindly grabs her purse. "That's it, I'm out." They've been at this for hours now, bar hoping from one seedy joint to the next and she's filled her quota of drinks to erase the shitty day from her memory.
"Out? What do you mean out?" Harvey protests holding up his Slippery Nipple. "We're commiserating, that means we stay and get shit-faced together." He has to yell to be heard over the drum and base beat in the background, "never pegged you as a quitter."
"Watch it pretty boy." She throws back, lifting her heel off the sticky, grime covered floor. As fun as its been to cut loose with the team of lawyers (and Donna) she has a reputation to uphold and staying out until one in the morning is commiseration enough. "You need that beauty sleep more than I do."
Donna cracks a laugh beside him and he dramatically rolls his eyes. Not only has the nickname stuck it's spreading like wildfire and when Alex opens his mouth Harvey shoots him a glare. "Say anything and you're fired."
He downs his shot and Alex holds up his hands in mock defence, deflecting away the attention as Donna orders another round.
She's not quite hammered but is getting close toasting to misfortune with the rest of them. Except Alex who is a self-proclaimed ring in. His margins are up by ten percent, he stopped a case going to trail and if that isn't bad enough he landed them a new client today. He's been the embodiment of good luck this week and she takes his shot back keeping it for herself. "You're out too Williams, your life doesn't suck enough."
A grin turns his mouth taking it as a compliment. She's right. He's going into Friday with a string of wins under his belt but he can't help feeling sympathy for his comrades. The alcohol is only going to fuel their misery tomorrow and he winces watching them each take another shot. "You guys might want to think about slowing down." He shouts over the music but Harvey quickly waves him off.
"Party's just getting started." He glances at Donna who entertains the comment with a burst of laughter. They're drunk, so what? All week he's been trying to get a smile out of her and if this is what it takes, one night of cheap drinks and shitty music, he's in for the long haul.
Samantha pulls a fifty from her purse eyes gleaming mischievously as she slips it across to the bartender. "Keep 'em coming."
"Ah-" Harvey spins on the bar stool pointing a finger at her, "you think that's funny but you forget, Donna and I know how to drink."
She smirks, willing to bet he doesn't feel that way in the morning. "I'm counting on it."
She winks and Alex throws a half-salute jumping on the back of her exit and pushing through the noisy club scene. It isn't until they hit the street outside that a small seed of culpability plants itself in his consciousnesses and he stops between the entrance and the curb. "You sure we should leave them?"
Samantha doesn't have the same hesitation, sticking her arm out to hail a cab. "That's not something you want to get in the middle of, trust me." There's no malice or bitchiness behind the remark. Harvey and Donna's dynamic is an asset to the firm, not a threat, and the whole will they/won't they/just-fuck-already vibe is compelling to say the least.
The fleeting sense of responsibly morphs into a smirk and he moves to where she's standing. Rumours about the pair have been circling for years and even though he's now inside the firm's family circle he still has no idea what the deal is between the two of them. Usually he just keeps his mouth shut but curiosity pushes him to be a little bit more brazen. "You think there's something going on?" He asks with a shrug," I mean... we'd have to know if they were-"
"Banging?" She quips, throwing her arm out again. "New York's finest closer and Demi Moore 'single tear' Paulsen. Please. They could be married with three kids and we wouldn't know."
He snorts at the insinuation but she isn't wrong. They might be a family but at the end of the day they're also lawyers. Manipulation is where their careers started and he brings his hand to his mouth whistling the next cab. Its wheels screech coming to a stop and he motions for Samantha to take it. "I'll get the next one."
She nods her thanks climbing into the warmth of the car.
Whether Harvey and Donna have actually slept together is anyone's guess but one things for certain, she knows better than to listen to gossip.
Why would she when she gets the show for free?
...
"No he didn't!"
Donna's laughter echoes in the street and Harvey defends himself trying to contain his building amusement. "I swear to you! In court, in front of everyone. She told him to do it."
Her eyes gleam as they clamber over the gutter up onto the sidewalk. There's been construction down her road for the past week and her hands bunch around his arm to steady herself. They only stayed another hour but it was enough to get her buzzed and she shakes her head at the elaborate story he's been telling. "I still don't believe a judge would ever say that."
"I give you the Harvey Specter 'word is my my bond' pledge, I am telling the truth." He throws two fingers across his chest finding his footing on the uneven pavement. He can't even remember what prompted the story but it's carried them from where the cab pulled up and he presents her apartment with with a wide grin. "Didn't I say I'd get you home safe."
"Very chivalrous of you. " She rolls her eyes, wobbling on her heels as she moves to enter her code. He doesn't follow, just stands expectantly, and she frowns until she remembers the suit jacket sat snugly around her shoulders. She really ought to give it back but makes no attempt, shrugging and pinning him with a mischievous smirk. "Nightcap?"
He shouldn't but screw it. Any chance of getting home at a reasonable time died hours ago and he uses the banister to pull himself up the stairs. "You miss Paulsen, are trouble."
"And you Mr. Specter need to learn how to say no to women." She clicks open the door with a wicked smile, the heat from the lobby tingling her skin as they step inside. Fall is definitely over and she ushers him through musing that in another few weeks she'll be coming home to sprigs of holly and a warm glow of lights. She loves the holiday season almost as much as Halloween and this year they'll be celebrating with a tiny new addition to world. It makes her sigh wistfully, catching Harvey's arm and dragging him passed the set of stairs leading up to her apartment. "These shoes are not doing that after this much tequila."
He lets out a throaty chuck as he's led to the elevator switching to support her as leans in to press the button. When she swings back her eyes are dancing with curious amusement, a look excitement passing over her rosy cheeks and he can't help being pulled in by her enthusiasm. "Okay, what?"
"Baby names." She challenges, daring him to reveal the name he picked in the pool. So far he's remained tight-lipped but she can tell he's about to cave and grins triumphantly.
The elevator arrives with a ping and he releases her, holding the doors open. Once inside he presses the number two finally conceding "Fifty for Reginald."
"Reginald, as in your middle name?" A laugh puffs in her chest at the size of his ego and she leans back against the carriage wall shaking her head. She can only image what he picked out for a girl.
"Roberta." He winks watching her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. They are going to be the kids godparents, why not assume Louis might use one of their names?
They arrive at the second level and he holds the doors again, following her out and down the hall to her apartment. When they reach the gold emblazed numbers she's still struggling with her purse and he sidles up next to her with a smug look. "Need help?"
"Bite me Specter." She throws back, dragging her keys out and stabbing them unsuccessfully at the lock. Right now water would be a preference to alcohol and when she finally gets the alignment right she proudly remembers to jerk up and push instead of turning.
He may be a little drunk but he's fairly certain he's never seen her do that before and scrutinises the way she jiggles the metal ring back out. "Ah, Donna? That's not how keys work."
"No shit." Her tone is laced with sarcasm as she pulls him inside. "I called the superintendent, apparently it isn't a 'priority'." She uses air quotation marks to denote the point, throwing her purse on the counter and shrugging off his jacket tossing it over the back of the sofa.
He follows behind her ignoring the placement of his favourite threads as he joins her in the kitchen. "So your lock's broken?"
"Uh huh."
She turns on the faucet pouring them both a glass of water and he rolls his eye's at the quick dismissal. They live in Manhattan for Christ's sake, not bloody Idaho. "First thing tomorrow I'm calling him for you. "
She hands him the drink taking a sip of her own. "No you're not." He looks ready to argue and she sets her glass down turning her back to him. "I happened to like living here. I don't need you going all hulk and getting me kicked out." She drags her hand along the top line of cabinets until she reaches the shelf housing the alcohol and pulls down two bottles one containing scotch and the other amaretto.
He watches her find glasses his lips thinning in protest. "I wouldn't-"
"David Fox." She reminds him, haphazardly splashing the liquid so there's a two-ish part whatever shot in each. The concern is sweet but entirely unnecessary and she hands him one of the mixes with tapered amusement. "It still shuts and I have a locked door downstairs. I'll be fine."
The fact it's a secure building is somewhat of a reassurance and switches out the glass in his hand in favour of the alcohol. He still doesn't like it but bites back lecture poised on the tip of his tongue swallowing the irritating niggle. "So," he reluctantly changes the subject, " what name did you go for?"
"Roberta."
She winks, sashaying passed him with a grin and his deep throaty laugh washes over her as they relocate to the lounge. Once settled she can't help noticing how relaxed he looks; sans jacket, no tie and the hint of a five o'clock shadow grazing his jaw. Despite his case load he's been carrying an air of lightness around with him this week or in the very least she's noticed the difference. Louis would still insist he's been acting like a bear but she's been treated to surprise coffees, baked goods and friendly afternoon check-ins all in an attempt to cheer her up. The effort hasn't gone unnoticed and she smiles gently at the view across from her.
He catches her staring out of his peripheral and his gaze settles on the soft curve of her lips. "Something you want to share?"
His eyes are teasing she flushes dipping her head. "I don't know, you just seem... happy I guess." She looks up with a sheepish expression. "It suits you."
"That would be the tequila," he shoots back hoping she doesn't catch the lie. Truth is, he's glad Thomas is out of the picture and knows that isn't fair. She deserves happiness more than he does but he's still relieved they broke up and hates himself for being so selfish. "You doing okay?" He asks seriously, forcing down his guilt with a sip of the ridiculously sweet concoction she mixed up.
It would be leading except for that fact it isn't. Harvey Specter doesn't do subtle and she bites the inside of her cheek thinking about Thomas. A clean break is exactly what they needed. No reminders, just endless hours of work and nights like these to keep her from obsessing about it. "I've decided to buy a cat, maybe twelve. Fully embrace the spinster life, you know?"
He chuckles softly at the idea. "I don't think you're quite there yet." 'Plenty of fish in the sea' is on the tip of his tongue but the jarring reality hits him before the words spill out.
If it's not me it's going to be somebody else.
The alcohol soaked memory of Thomas leaving fuels a tightness in his chest, the involuntary reaction spreading throughout his body. It bothers him and now he knows why Thomas, Mitchell, Stephen and even Mark never warranted any attention except for discontent. Deep down he's always known. He just refused to let himself see it and he glances up with the burning need to say something but his thoughts hit the silence as still air.
She waits for him to speak but he closes his mouth again and she regards his slack jaw with confusion, angling her elbow against the back of the sofa and using her palm as a cushion. There was a time she thought she could read him like an open book, and in some ways she can, but there's a gap she's never been able to connect and she exhales with a slow sigh, "that's happening in that head of yours pretty boy?"
The nickname draws his lips into an impulsive smirk. She really has no idea and he wrestles with the honesty warring inside him.
"You-" he finally admits swirling his glass, "me... us." It doesn't reveal the whole truth and he takes a sip wincing as it slides painfully down his throat. "Everyone else seems to get it right and we just keep getting it wrong."
The nature of the comment is illusive but it hits hard, reaching into a place that she thought she'd let go of.
She has let go of.
That's what she tries to tell herself as his stare permeates her rationality. For once the reckless abandonment in his eyes shows no sign of defences. Its all there including the more she's always questioned and her stomach drops like an anvil as he places his glass down on the coffee table.
"Donna, I-"
The shrill sound of both phones going off in unison slices through the air and Jesus Christ, he's ready to kill whoever it is, but Donna's short gasp tempers the anger. She already has her phone in hand and he reaches for his own swiping the message across his screen.
Sheila is labour! P.s. ohgodohgodohgod! - L
The news jolts through him sidelining anything else he'd been about to say. All he can comprehend is, holy shit Louis is about to become a father. "Holy shit." He exclaims the thought, catching Donna's wide grin and they both push up at the same time. "I'll ring Ray."
"I'll text Alex and Samantha." She multitasks grabbing her keys and purse while he makes the call, forcing whatever he'd been about to admit to the back of her mind. They need be a united front for Louis and slip into the synchrony with ease, her arms sliding into jacket he's holding while he informs Ray about the road works concealing the entrance to her street.
They're out the door five minutes later and in the car by fifteen but the drive to hospital is excruciating slow, the traffic surprising given it's the middle of the night. When they finally arrive the birth is steamrolling ahead and they're directed to the waiting room. Something Harvey is grateful for when Louis' appears with a look of sheer panic stretching across his face. Donna manages to calm his nerves and from then on they alternate the responsibility whenever Sheila's kicks him out.
Eventually a full two hours pass without any sign of the expectant father and Harvey assumes it's a good thing, glancing down at the women asleep on his shoulder with a sigh. They've made the best out of the seating arrangements finding a secluded spot in the corner and his impatience flutters with amusement at the sound of her soft snoring.
Donna Paulsen doesn't snore.
That's what she told him after the 'other time' and she's defended it to the death ever since but unlike before his interest in watching her now is vastly different from what is was back then. He wants to remember the look of ease softening her features, the complete trust as her head lolls against his shoulder and his fingers twitch with the desire to reach out and make her more comfortable.
This is what he wants.
The realisation hits him with full force, the notion spreading with clarity. He wants to keep her safe, protect her at all costs and make sure stays how she is now; content and at happy without a single care in the world.
In an expected flurry of bad timing the doors suddenly burst open and his head snaps up to an exhausted but beaming Louis. The excitement is catching as it washes over him and he nudges Donna awake , standing with an extension of his arm. "Congratulations Louis."
"It's a boy, eighteen inches and nine pounds." Louis ignores the handshake pulling Harvey into a crushing hug which he's surprisingly receptive to and after giving Donna the same treatment he steps back struggling with words to express his emotions. The last few hours have been a chaotic nightmare be he did it. Sheila did it and now they have the perfect reward as a result. "Thank you guys-" he shakes his head feeling the rush of adrenaline right down to his fingertips, "I don't even know what to say-."
"You don't have to say anything." Donna assures with a warm smile, "we wouldn't have missed this."
He nods his gratitude suddenly remembering the phone wedged in his hoodie. He took pictures and he fumbles with the device trying to keep his hands from shaking. "They're not letting in visitors yet... but meet Jackson Daniel Litt."
"Louis, he's perfect." Donna's gaze washes over the little round bundle immediately spotting the similarities between father and son. The resemblance is striking and she's about to pay him the compliment when Harvey suddenly jumps in.
"Well, he's definitely yours." He quips, wincing when Donna slaps his arm.
Louis doesn't even notice the jibe still caught up in the rush as he swipes through the pictures. "I think he has my great aunt Hillary's nose. Definitely my ears but he screams like Sheila. Oh and there's definitely some uncle Donald too, look you can see here-"
Harvey chuckles as the ramble continues but he's distracted by a murmur of activity breaking out behind the new father. Further down, near where the emergency entrance is, he watches a gurney being wheeled through and he's about to dismiss it when a flash of jet back hair and chiseled jawline leaves a haunting imprint.
Something isn't right and he reaches out patting Louis on the shoulder, "excuse me one second." He doesn't answer the questioning look he feels Donna throw his way. Instead his feet kick towards the paramedics and once he's within a couple of feet he realises why he was drawn to the chaos. "What the hell happened?"
The ambulance officer holding the doors snaps her head towards his approach. "Do you know this man Sir?"
Harvey digs into pocket pulling out his wallet and finding a business card. "I'm a lawyer and that's one of my clients."
She releases the gate letting it swing closed to check his credentials. "Car accident-" she supplies handing the card back, "he has a collapsed lung, multiple internal injuries and a contusion to the head. I'm sorry Mr Specter but if you know of any family I suggest you give them a call."
He's frozen in place as the bloody body is wheeled from his sight and it isn't until Donna appears beside him that he snaps out of the shock. When she asks what's wrong prompting him for a second time, he swallows sharply.
"That was Drake Carter."
AN: Was it really an accident? The plot thickens ;) xx