Chapter 2: Friday 3rd September

Late on Friday, the office is still busy as everyone scrambles to finish up ahead of Labor Day weekend. Donna is done for the week, but she's finding tasks to kill time. She sneaks a covert glance at Harvey. She knows he is pretty much done too, but he is still staring intently at his laptop, brow furrowed in concentration, making no attempt talk to her, and showing no sign of leaving any time soon

A week had passed since their conversation at the party, and nothing further had been said by either of them. How embarrassing if he had forgotten all about it when she had been able to think about nothing else all week. Donna aims to project flawless confidence at work, but she's not totally immune to self doubt.

She knows she should probably say a quick goodbye and head for the exit without a backward glance. It would be prudent to let the idea drop. Write it off as a moment of alcohol-fuelled madness at a party. She has her rule for extremely good reasons. There is danger in casual fun with Harvey.

She never wanted to be known as the secretary whose boss uses her as a diverting way to pass time, nothing more. She is certain that Harvey doesn't see her that way, and she knows that a lot of people think it anyway. But it's a point of pride for her that they're wrong.

It's not just other people's opinions though. Their one night together had been a revelation. She hadn't known before that it was possible to feel such connection, for sex to feel… so much more than just sex. Her feelings after the other time made it clear to her that she could all too easily fall for him, hard.

And a real relationship with him was out of the question. His handling of things with both Zoe and Scottie had proved that he wasn't ready, even if he wanted to try. And he'd never shown any sign that he did. Sometimes a little voice in her head would suggest that just maybe Zoe and Scottie didn't work out because they weren't right for him, maybe he was supposed to be… But she would squash those thoughts flat, remembering the plunging disappointment she felt in that diner, the other time. She had to protect herself.

Despite knowing that their plan was reckless and deeply unwise, however, Harvey had been right at the party. Once she had invited in the idea of suspending her rule for one night, of being with him one more time, it had taken root and she would have a hard time letting it go.

She had successfully pushed the other time to the back of her mind for over a decade (for the most part anyway). But now, flashes of that night are constantly forcing their way into her consciousness unbidden: the thrill of his warm hand sliding under her top for the first time as he kissed his way hungrily along her throat, the look of awe on his face when he pulled back, having found her braless...

Through the week it has taken every ounce of self control she possesses to repeatedly force herself away from the movie playing in her head and back to work. They had had a big case, and she couldn't sit around fantasising about what was essentially a one night stand from years ago. And the last thing she needs is to look like a lovesick teenager obsessing over her crush. For a start, she can imagine his smug reaction if she were to give him any hint of what was on her mind. And if anyone else were to notice, it would put the Pearson Specter gossip factory into overdrive, and of course only confirm those rumors that she had bridled against for years.

Despite her efforts, she has hardly been acting normally though, he has to have noticed. She hasn't been teasing him like usual. Their flirtatious banter works when they both know it isn't going anywhere. It's altogether more dangerous, and inappropriate for the office when it feels like it might.

Yet he hadn't said a word.

So here she is, marking time, running through different possible scenarios for how the next hour or so might play out.

The sky is darkening, streaked with pink and orange, when she finally hears Harvey slam his laptop shut. Here goes. Her stomach is knotted with anxiety as she stands up decisively and walks into his office, hoping that she looks her confident, usual self.

"Harvey, do you need anything else from me?" she asks, trying to keep her voice steady and nonchalant, just in case he has forgotten, or, perhaps worse, regarded it as a joke.

"No, I think I'm going to head home. Goodnight Donna."

"OK, well…" she stumbles, heat rushing to her cheeks. Shit, he isn't going to mention it. Thank God she didn't say anything either.

"Oh Donna - there is just one thing." He lowers his voice, leans in conspiratorially, grinning. "I need a decision."

Seriously, thinks Donna. This man. He's toying with her, the arrogant bastard.

She folds her arms and rolls her eyes. "A decision on what, Harvey?"

"Tomorrow night. Are we still on?" he replies in a softer tone, looking suddenly serious.

"Yeah," she rushed out, before she has time to change her mind.

"Yeah?" his grin returns broader. "OK, I'll pick you up at 8am. Have a bag packed. We'll be back Monday evening."

"Harvey. We said...one night," Donna stumbles again, totally thrown off balance

"No, we said one time. This weekend is that one time, and I say we make the most of it. So, 8am."

She rolls her eyes. "You're such a lawyer."

"Guilty as charged."

"I'm guessing you won't tell me where we're going."

"Not a chance."

"Goodnight Harvey." She turns to leave. He lightly catches her arm. His touch, innocent as it is, feels incendiary on her bare skin.

"Oh and Donna - you'll need a swimsuit."

Donna turns quickly to hide her blush (since when did Donna Paulsen blush?), grabs her bag and heads for the elevators, brain - and body - buzzing. She's in trouble. Their conversation just confirmed that she had always known: this is a very bad idea. Sure, it will shift, it has already shifted, Stephen from her mind. But she may well have a whole new problem.

When she had agreed to this, she had imagined they might have a few drinks for Dutch courage, one evening of fun, and then he'd probably slip off in the night, just like the other time, and they'd get back to pretending it never happened. Now it all feels a lot riskier.

She thinks about calling Rachel and talking it all through, but she decides against it. If she is honest, she doesn't want to be talked out of it. Or, perhaps more likely, knowing Rachel, be buoyed up with false hope that this might be the start of something more. It's Harvey, after all, and if she is to protect herself, she can't let herself lose sight of what that means. Or rather doesn't mean.