Chapter 1: Friday 27 August

Donna sinks down and takes a deep, shuddering breath. The shock of the cool night air on her damp, bare skin is a relief after the oppressive heat of the party and her panicked exit, pushing through a crush of bodies to find space and sanctuary in the hotel's rooftop garden.

She had been looking forward to the evening. The Pearson Specter summer party. An annual event, but the first since Specter had been part of the company name. She had gotten ready at Rachel's, drinking chilled rosé as the evening sun slanted into the apartment, teasing Mike about his outfit and trying out a few dresses till she settled on an Oscar de la Renta with a high neck and plunging back, which really suited her shape and colouring, and would bolster her confidence to face the assembled firm. Not usually an issue, but after the humiliation of… Wearily, she pushes the thought from her mind, again. Yes, she thinks, she had started the evening feeling upbeat, positive. Free.

Midway through the evening, she got talking to a really nice guy, a new client of Louis's. Thomas. Quietly confident, tall (very tall) dark and broad shouldered, he quickly charmed her, making her laugh with his gentle, self deprecating humor. Very different to the average cocky lawyer, two in particular, she thinks wryly. Again, she pushes memories firmly and deliberately to the back of her mind.

The evening wore on and, forgetting where they were, they got a little drunker, stood a little closer, got a little flirtier. Thomas leaned in to whisper a compliment in her ear, resting his hand lightly on the bare skin of her lower back. As she felt his touch, his hot breath on her skin, she froze. Anxiety rising, cheeks flushing, she stuttered her excuses and fled. From a nice guy. A handsome guy. Who was probably exactly what she needed to move on.

She closes her eyes and starts taking deep, cool yogic breaths, to quell the panic still rising in her chest.

She feels the air stir against her bare skin, and senses a presence behind her. Opening her eyes, and gathering herself together, she turns.

"Harvey." Of course it was. Before she lost herself in Thomas, she had been aware of his eyes boring into her, as they always were any time a guy showed an interest. He would have noticed her bolt. But none of that meant anything, apparently, she thinks sardonically.

"Donna?" He draws out her name into a question, shifting uncomfortably. He cares, she knows that. She guesses he wants to help her but fears where the conversation might lead. He's probably relieved that she is alone again. Just how he prefers it, she thinks bitterly.

"If he was bothering you, just say the word and I'll kick his ass," he drawls, his words ever so slightly slurred. He'd spent most of the evening at the bar, drinking steadily.

Donna rolls her eyes. "No Harvey, Thomas was a perfect gentleman. No need to kick any more asses." She suspects he would relish the chance to pick a fight with Thomas. He never hides his dislike of the men she dates, and he didn't buy his insistence that his fight with Stephen wasn't chiefly about her.

He tilts his head and shoots her a penetrating look.

"'The problem is alllllll mine," she murmurs, turning slightly away and returning to face the New York cityscape, hugging her arms tight around her body. She is getting chilly, goosebumps rising.

Harvey take a step closer, and she feels him drape his suit jacket around her shoulders. It felt pleasantly warm, smelling of his familiar cologne and him, which feels comforting and disturbing in equal parts.

He rounds the bench and sits next to her.

"So what's up, Paulsen?" he says softly, in the tone he reserves just for her. As far as she knows, anyway. She is glad he is staring straight ahead at the city lights, so he won't see that his care and kindness is making tears prick her eyes and her cheeks warm.

"Stephen. I'm - having trouble moving on." she blurts out awkwardly, regretting her honesty instantly, as she feels Harvey tense next to her. Silence.

"I didn't realise things had gotten that serious," he says eventually, his voice clipped and harder. He maintains his gaze firmly on the skyline.

"They hadn't, I don't mean like that. It's… embarrassing. Are you really sure you want to be having this conversation?" she smiles awkwardly.

"We're friends, Donna, aren't we? I want to know you're ok."

Oh well, they'd gotten this far. She ploughed on.

"I'm having a hard time trusting anyone new. After what happened. I don't want strangers to... However great they seem, they could be anyone." She gives a twisted smile. "A murderer, say."

"Prison's too good for that bastard," Harvey mutters. He has always liked to call her exes bastards, but in this case he's spot on.

Donna stands up and walks over to the railing, gazing out.

"I just want to move on. I hate that he was the last man to touch me. When I close my eyes at night I think of him, that I was with him, and I feel sick. But as soon as anyone new gets close, I want to run. I did just run."

"I could help. I'm not new. I could touch you, he blurts out.

"Harvey!" she remonstrates, wheeling round to face him, genuinely shocked.

"What?" he protests, "Don't look at me like that!"

"Here I am, unburdening my very soul to you, and you …"

"Hey, it's a serious offer. We have before, we got past it. We could again. It might just solve your problem. I'm basically being a boy scout here!" he pleads with a smirk.

"OK."

His smile falls away. "What did you just say?"

"I said OK. But it's a one time thing and we never mention it again. Just like last time," she says firmly.

Harvey steps closer, his eyes dark, all trace of humour gone.

"But not tonight, she cuts in, taking a step away to re-establish a safe amount of space between them.

"What? Why?"

"Cooling off period. If either of us changes our mind, that's the end of it. If not: Next Saturday night."

"I'm not gonna change my mind Donna." The smirk was back.

"I know. But I might."

"Oh I don't think you will." He leans back in, and whispers in her ear, his hot breath tickling. "Once you've started thinking about how good we were together, how good it will be again, this is only going to end one way."

"You're an idiot!"

"An idiot who you'll be seeing on Saturday."

Donna rolls her eyes again. "If you're VERY lucky. 'I could touch you?' Smooth. Very smooth. Come on, back to the party mister."

She loops her arm through his, dropping it before they re-enter the room and she makes her way over to Rachel. They spend the rest of the evening enjoying the champagne and canapés, people watching and making fun of Louis's dancing, with Donna studiously avoiding both Thomas and Harvey.