Past & Present
(Repost from Secret Santa)
Donna ducks her head into his office while on her way out for the night, still twirling her green scarf around her neck.
"My place, 4pm tomorrow," she announces casually, like he's meant to know exactly what she's talking about. He frowns at her in confusion.
"It's Christmas tomorrow, Harvey, you can't spend it alone."
That is, in fact, exactly how he intended to spend it. Alone and preferably drunk. Maybe later in the evening he'll go seek out some company, bury himself inside some random woman who's also looking to escape the misery of the festive season. But that's the sum total of his plans for Christmas this year and he has no intention of changing them. The festive spirit isn't exactly something he embraces at the best of times, but this year, this year he'd prefer to pretend that December 25th simply didn't exist in the calendar.
"I'll be fine," he says, trying to placate her. "It's just another day, Donna. Besides, I've got to get started on the Blakewood case."
She rolls her eyes at him. "It's not just another day, it's Christmas. And that case doesn't start until February and you won't even open the file until the day before, so don't bullshit me with fake excuses."
She shoots him a pointed look, unimpressed with his lies and he guesses he should have known better than to try and mislead her.
"Donna," he sighs, because he knows she won't let up until she gets her way, and as much as he cares for her, he's really not in the mood for company.
"Harvey," she says, tone softening. "This is your first Christmas without Gordon and I know you always spent the day with him. I just want you to have somewhere to go."
He deflates, dropping his gaze, unable to handle the overflowing sadness emanating from her eyes. He's not looking for anyone's pity, not even Donna's.
"I'll be fine," he mumbles. "Don't worry about me."
"Just think about it okay? I really don't think you should be alone tomorrow. It's Christmas," she adds again wistfully, like the word alone is magically enough to make him change his mind.
And he supposes for a lot of people it is, but Harvey hates Christmas. It's never been some joyful, magic filled holiday for him. At least not since he became a child keeping a secret not even an adult should have to.
His mothers infidelity had bled into every aspect of his life, stealing the joy of his childhood like a silent thief. It tainted every holiday, including Christmas, every family moment he spent after finding out forever overshadowed by the memory of his tightly constricted throat as he fought to keep her secret locked away and protect his father. Something he ultimately failed to do.
Once he moved to the city he refused to return home to Boston for the holidays, and because Marcus had unofficially chosen their mothers side in their family war, it left him with only his father to mark the day with.
They had a simple tradition. Gordon would stop by his condo in the afternoon and they would exchange gifts (which in recent years Donna had always purchased and decoratively wrapped for him) and share a drink before heading out to dinner at his fathers favourite jazz club. It wasn't some big, elaborate celebration, but despite his intense dislike of the season he had always looked forward to spending that time with his father.
But now Gordon was gone and so not even some half hearted, vague version of a family Christmas existed for him anymore, nor ever would again.
Harvey knows Donna means well by her invitation, but she loves Christmas. The thought of spending the day with someone who basically embodied the spirit of a Christmas elf during the month of December is the last thing he wants to do. Nor does he want to ruin her love of the holiday. Saving Donna from having to spend her second favourite day of the year with a worse version of the Grinch is about the only gift he's capable of giving this year.
But she's still staring at him with that hopeful expression, waiting for an answer, and he also doesn't want to hurt her feelings. So he promises he'll think about it, even though he already knows he won't be stepping foot inside her apartment.
But the next day Harvey finds the hours of Christmas ticking by infinitely slow, like time has been somehow stretched and warped, every minute tripling in length just to spite him. Not even the scotch helps, rather the single glass sitting alone on his coffee table is nothing but a harsh reminder of what was missing from his day. He abandons it after two drinks. By early afternoon he feels like the walls are closing in on him and he suddenly can't handle staying in his apartment a moment longer. The ghosts are too strong.
He goes to a bar at first, but that's even more depressing, seeing his own sullen, broken expression reflected back at him by all the other lonely souls seeking solace from the day in the bottom of a glass.
An attractive brunette with sad eyes catches his attention as he knocks back the last of his drink and he wonders if maybe she's the solution he needs to forget this god awful day. But he feels claustrophobia tickle his lungs at the thoughts of returning to his condo and he has a strict rule about never going home to their place, which not even the misery of Christmas is enough to make him break..
So instead he leaves the bar, meandering without purpose in the chilly afternoon air, feeling morose and sorry for himself, until, without even having made a conscious decision, he finds himself standing in front of Donna's front door.
He's not sure how long he stares at the three gold numbers affixed to her door, trying to figure out what it is that drove him here, before eventually he finally gets the courage, or perhaps it was more the desperation, to knock.
To Harvey's surprise it's Donna's mother who answers the door, something he was entirely not expecting, and he's caught off guard by the flash of envy that immediately churns in his gut. Of course Donna has family with her for Christmas day, that's what normal people do. Only fucked up people like himself, with fucked up familes, spend it alone. He was an idiot to assume otherwise.
"Harvey?" chirps Clara in surprise. "I didn't know you were joining us today." There's a level of delight in the woman's voice which is so at odds with his own gloomy thoughts.
"Oh…umm… yeah…Donna invited me…" He stumbles over his words, flustered by her unexpected appearance and his own foolishness for some reason assuming Donna was home alone today. Regret and embarrassment trickle heavily down his spine. He really shouldn't have come.
Clara tilts her head at him, her eyes twinkling with curiosity, and he immediately suspects she's forming the wrong idea about just why her daughter's boss is standing at her front door on Christmas day.
"Harvey?"
Before the older woman can make the comment he knows she was about to, Donna appears behind her mothers back, the soft smile on her face a mix of surprise and relief. But she also looks so genuinely happy to see him that it cracks open something inside his chest. Having spent all day wallowing in loneliness, feeling wanted is almost overwhelming.
Clara continues to eye them both suspiciously as Donna quickly beckons him inside and shuts the door behind them, giving him no avenue to flee like he was half contemplating.
"I'm really glad you changed your mind," she says to him quietly as he shrugs off his coat and scarf.
"I did say I'd think about it."
"And you and I both know you were just placating me," she replies with a quick raise of her eyebrow and he can't help but chuckle lightly. He had hoped he hadn't been so transparent.
Donna leads him into her living room and he spots Jim sitting on her couch. He remembers now Donna mentioning her parents had reconciled a few months ago and he wonders what that must feel like, having your family unit reunited once again after years apart.
"Harvey? I didn't know you were joining us today," Jim says, echoing his wife's words, however with a far less enthusiastic tone.
"Harvey got stuck in the city this year because of a case. I insisted he drop by since he couldn't make it up to Boston. No one should be alone on Christmas," Donna says solemnly, staring straight at him, and her grace makes his throat tighten. She didn't need to lie for him, but he's beyond grateful he doesn't have to explain his pathetic reasons for being alone on Christmas to her parents.
Donna fetches him a drink, and steers him into a chair, and he's half certain he hears her whisper in her fathers ear to be nice as she tops up Jim's glass. It's awkward of course, but Donna soon gets the conversation flowing in the way only she can and he begins to slowly relax. She's always had a soothing effect on him, just being near her, and it helps expel some of the ache of the day.
While he remains polite, Jim shoots him wary glances all evening, which is not all that surprising considering their one previous meeting had not exactly been a pleasant one. Harvey is certain he's not on the list of people the man wanted to spend his Christmas with. But regardless of his reservations around Jim Paulsen's business dealings, observing father and daughter together it's quick to see the man loves his daughter immensely, something Harvey makes a mental note to remember in the future.
Her mother on the other hand seems utterly delighted at his unexpected appearance, and he doesn't miss the whispered conversation she has with Donna that has his secretary vigorously shaking her head no multiple times. Clara had been heavy with her insinuations and assumptions that his relationship with her daughter went beyond the professional the first time they met, and it appears nothing has changed her opinion.
He supposes it's probably not that normal for a boss to spend Christmas with his secretary, so its unsurprising his attendance has raised concerns on Jim's behalf and hope on Clara's.
Harvey is quick to realise that Donna likely inherited her love of the holidays from her mother as he watches her sway around the kitchen, humming Christmas carols to herself as she finishes preparing dinner.
He can't help but laugh at the concerned words and expressions that Donna's parents echo each time she attempts to assist with any food related task. Cooking is not an area of expertise for Donna and it's clear her parents are well aware of this fact. He grins widely at her as she exits the kitchen with a pout after being shooed away by her mother once more.
"Burn the turkey a decade ago and you're still not even trusted in your own kitchen," she pouts, rolling her eyes at him.
"Honey, you didn't just burn it, you set fire to the kitchen. The fire brigade had to be involved," her father chuckles good naturedly.
"A total overreaction," Donna grumbles, making a face.
"A kitchen fire sounds pretty serious to me," Harvey teases her and she shoots him a dirty look.
"And Donna, need we remind you that's not the only time we were forced to call emergency services thanks to you?" her mother chimes in from the kitchen.
Jim laughs, launching into a tale about a birthday cake and too many candles and the three Paulsen's are soon trading stories back and forth about each other's humorous moments.
While he enjoys listening, it's also bittersweet hearing them recount their family history, memories that are overflowing with laughter and joy and happiness, and just maybe the occasional 911 call, rather than being tinged with pain and secrets and regret.
Anger suddenly prickles around his chest. He could have had this, he could be sitting in his family living room right now surrounded by his parents, his brother, trading childhood stories and favourite memories. But instead his mother took that all away from him with her own selfish choices. Fate then decided to add to the misery this year and now he's truly all alone.
His chest feels tight, and the loss of his father, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally, suddenly feels more fresh than the day he died six months earlier.
He sees Donna eyeing him with a concerned expression and he forces himself to casually lift his glass and swallow a mouthful of scotch, trying to ease the lump that had formed in his throat, momentarily afraid he might actually cry.
"You okay?" she murmurs quietly, coming over to top up his glass.
He nods brusquely.
"It's okay to miss him, Harvey. I do as well." As usual she's seen right through him, like he's made of glass. He nods a second time, still not entirely back in control of himself after his strange moment of emotional turmoil.
"Dinner is ready!" Clara calls out, carrying a large tray to the dining table.
Donna squeezes his hand quickly before going to help her mother.
Dinner is delicious, which he repeatedly tells Clara, Donna clearly not inheriting her lack of cooking skills from her mother. The meal is filled with more family anecdotes of Christmas's past and he truly enjoys hearing stories about a young Donna, tidbits he mentally tucks away, further information to explain the complex woman that sits beside him every day.
He tries his best to ignore the melancholy feeling that sits heavy on his shoulders as he watches the textbook definition of family play out before him. He's never had this. He'll never have this. Despite Donna and Clara's welcoming embrace he can't help but feel guilty for intruding on their special family day.
Eventually, after dessert and final glass of champagne, the Paulsen's head back to their hotel, Clara departing with a lingering hug and heavy inflection when she says she hopes to see him again soon, and Jim with an awkward hand shake, leaving him alone with Donna for the first time.
"See, it wasn't that bad was it," she smiles at him, collapsing onto the couch, her refilled champagne glass almost spilling in the process.
"Guess I survived," he chuckles. "Thank you for today Donna," he adds more sincerely. Nice to see how things should be, even as it makes his heart ache.
She studies him for a long moment. "You still look sad," she observes softly.
He shrugs and glances away. He doesn't like to be vulnerable or emotional, not even with Donna.
"It was nice seeing you with your family, I guess I was just reminded of what I don't have, and won't ever," he eventually says as explanation.
"You could though," she says slowly, and so quietly he knows she's aware she's crossing a line she normally wouldn't.
"Donna," he says in warning. His family, his estranged mother, it's the one area of his life she knows not to interfere with or give advice.
She bites her lip, clearly holding back on saying what she wants to.
"I just mean Harvey, sometimes family is what you make it. It's the people you build around you. You can have one, you just have to let people in here one day," she taps her chest, right over her heart.
I let you in, he immediately thinks, but of course doesn't say.
She's in there somewhere, he knows it, even if he can't access it. She's in there mixed up with all the other shit that's darkened the muscle to the point he knows it's no longer worth anything to anyone. That's why she'll never be anything more than what she is right now, his everything and his nothing all at once.
He's caught in her gaze, those hazel eyes swallowing him whole like she's reading every thought in his brain. She shakes her head slightly, like she's disagreeing with his conclusions. But he knows in this instance, for once, Donna is wrong.
Despite that there's a small part of him that's suddenly tempted by her presence close beside him on the couch. Tempted to lean in and for just one night let himself be with her, let her rid him of the grief and pain and the overwhelming loneliness that sometimes consumes him. Lean into that phenomenon that flickers between them, buried under rules and lies and a thousand reasons why they shouldn't.
Donna is still looking at him intensely, her expression morphing in a way that says she's also thinking the very same thing, that she's considering breaking all those carefully constructed boundaries. It can happen like this between them sometimes, that thing they ignore suddenly igniting itself without warning, making the usually contained desire beat louder in their blood, pushing them towards temptation. He's never given in before, but tonight suddenly his will power is paper thin.
His eyes run over her pink tinged cheeks, her slightly parted red lips, the slope of her nose, the sweet scattering of faint freckles until he locks onto her hazel eyes, the openings to a universe he wants nothing more than to explore. He feels himself leans forward ever so slightly, testing to see how strong the boundaries of temptation are and Donna's breath hitches in a way exactly like he was expecting, and that's what makes him stop.
The evidence of how well he knows her, how well he reads her, is the thing that makes him stop before they make a mistake. Because she's precious to him and he tarnishes the things he lets too close to him. As badly as he wants to be with her, he won't do anything to risk what he has with her now, because some of Donna will always be a better option than none of her. And because she deserves so much more than his broken self.
"I should go." He forces out the words, painful on his tongue, his body repelling against the words that are the very opposite of what he really wants at that moment, even if his brain knows it's the right thing,
Donna blinks, draws in a deep, shaky breath, the momentary spell now broken. She nods slowly, like she's also trying to convince herself that's the right thing. "Okay."
She walks him to the door.
"Thank you again for today. You're right, I didn't want to spend it alone."
"You're welcome Harvey."
He leans in then, unexpectedly to both of them, and not in the way he truly wishes he could, but in the only way he can, softly pressing his lips to her cheek.
"Merry Christmas, Donna."
"Merry Christmas, Harvey"
He returns home. Home to his cold, lonely, apartment, which feels so barren and empty after the warmth of Donna.
As he walks back into the room, Harvey finds himself pausing, needing to take a moment to absorb the scene before him.
He does that a lot lately, finding it important to take stock of what his life has become, because he never wants to stop appreciating it, never wants it to become mundane and commonplace.
His house looks a little like a Christmas wonderland, tasteful decorations placed around every surface. There's a beautifully decorated tree positioned beside the fire, the scent of pine dusting the air, fairy lights twinkling amongst the collection of decorations. An abundance of Christmas cards dot the mantle, and he can spot the ones from Alex and Samantha and everyone else back in New York.
In the kitchen he spots Marcus and his mother in law, a title that still sounds foreign and surprising each time he uses it, crowded around a bubbling pot on the stove, deep in conversation.
There's Rachel and Mike relaxing together on a corner of the couch, Mike's hand repeatedly stroking over his wifes eight month pregnant belly as they talk about all things babies with Sheila.
Lucy Litt toddles around the living room, sparkly red party dress glowing by the light of the fire. Hayley hovers beside her, his niece showing an impressive amount of patience for a teenager as she attempts to teach the toddler how to dance like a reindeer, the sounds of Jingle Bells playing in the background.
Over by the bar cart it looks like Louis has Jim trapped, animatedly telling a story in a way that makes Harvey wonder if maybe he shouldn't rescue the man soon.
And there, most importantly of all, moving gracefully around the large dining table, adding the final touches to the table settings, a vision in emerald green, is his wife.
She still makes his heart skip a beat every time he sees her, still makes the atoms in his body come alive like no one ever has before. She's beautiful and perfect and his, in all the ways, and that's something he knows will never get old. Because he spent a lifetime thinking they could never have everything and this new, wondrous reality where they do, is beyond anything he could have imagined and he'll never, for one second, take it for granted.
There's so much life filling the room in front of him, so much happiness and joy. He keeps finding himself reflecting back in time, his brain continuing to bring back the memory of that painful Christmas over a decade earlier when he was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was never a possibility for him.
He's never been so happy to be proven wrong about something.
Donna spots him observing things, shooting him a warm smile as she places down the final napkin and walks over to him.
"Penny for your thoughts?" She asks, softly brushing her fingertips along his jawline.
"I just keep thinking about that year you invited me to Christmas."
She smiles wistfully at him, understanding immediately in that Donna way of hers that still never fails to surprise him, even as he expects it.
"I told you you could have it all. If you just opened this up." She brushes her hand over his heart, a mirror image to her actions from years ago. Leaning up she presses a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. "And I'm so glad you did."
Harvey winds his arm around her waist, pulling her tight to his chest and deepening the kiss for a moment.
"Thank you," he murmurs, moving to brush his lips over the silky strands of hair beside her ear. "For my family."
Harvey no longer hates Christmas. He gets it now, why she's always loved this day, this time of year, why it makes her eyes sparkle and her footsteps bounce. He finally understands, now that he's surrounded by family and friends. Now that he's surrounded by her.