Chapter 6: Thursday 18th November

Donna wonders if she might be depressed. She has been lucky until now. Her mental health has always been pretty solid. But in the weeks that have elapsed since the weekend away with Harvey, she has lost all interest in the everyday things that normally gave her pleasure.

Drinks with Rachel, the theatre, Saturday morning yoga - she can't muster enthusiasm for any of it. She has the part of Portia, in The Merchant of Venice, but she hasn't learned any of her lines yet, and everyone else is almost off-book. She is bone-tired and just wants to be left alone to sleep. And any time she isn't in the office, that's what she does. Every evening she kicks off her heels, makes toast for dinner then collapses into bed, and she sleeps heavily till her alarm wakes her.

Twice she hasn't even gotten as far as changing into her pyjamas. She lay down to rest for just a moment and as soon as her eyes closed she was pulled under into a deep sleep, waking a little disoriented, a little embarrassed. She likes to present herself as in control. These days she feels anything but.

That first Tuesday back in the office, she had thought it was as if their weekend away never happened. All traces of Vacation Harvey were gone, and her pride wouldn't allow her to betray the fact that she noticed or cared. It was like the previous 72 hours had been totally erased. He gave her a curt, entirely ordinary, good morning when he arrived. To think they'd always thought she was the actress out of the two of them: after he'd opened up to her on the beach, she can't believe he's genuinely moved on so swiftly and comprehensively. But that's how it looks. And the thought he might have makes her feel sick.

In the days and weeks that follow, neither of them can maintain the charade that it's all normal however. They are considerably more distant, with a certain coolness in their interactions that wasn't there before. It makes her feel like she's done something wrong, and he's punishing her. Or he has, and she's punishing him. They've gone back to being scrupulously careful never to touch, and have become adept at ensuring they are never alone together.

No one else would notice her low mood or their estrangement. They've all been working long hours on the Logan Sanders case, Harvey is going head to head with Mike, of all people, and everyone is stressed and on a short fuse. Harvey is yelling at anyone who crosses his path, and she is utterly drained.

Tonight, for once, she is leaving early, as she has a rehearsal. She is forcing herself to go. It's not fair to the rest of the cast if she misses another one, she thinks wearily. She doesn't even bother to tell Harvey she is going. He won't like it, but he's been like a bear with a sore head all day and she just wants to escape.

By the elevators, she bumps into a familiar face.

"Thomas?"

"Donna! It's a pleasure to see you again."

"I was hoping I'd run into you some time so I could apologize for disappearing at the party. I had a headache and went to get some air."

"Not a problem. I've just finished up a meeting with Louis. Where are you off to this evening?" He gestures at the enormous bag she is carrying.

"I have a rehearsal with my theater group."

"Oh, what's the play?"

"I'm in The Merchant of Venice. Portia, if you know it."

"I do. The perfect choice given your line of work. Let me see, if memory serves 'The quality of mercy is not strained: It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.'" He smiles, pleased with himself.

"I'm impressed! I fear you might know more of my lines than I do."

The elevator arrives and they step in

"Work keeping you busy?"

"Always." She smiles.

"I know the feeling." He pauses. "I'm meeting a few friends at Incognito later this evening. If you feel like swinging by after your rehearsal, it would be lovely to see you."

She thanks him, says something noncommittal about seeing what time she's done.

Rehearsal finishes up late and she is itching to put on some comfortable pyjamas and fall into bed. She has done nothing but work or sleep for several weeks however, so she forces herself to go along with the group. It might do her good, she thinks. She suggests Incognito on the off chance Thomas is still there, because why not? She enjoys his company, and they have a lot in common. And it's always lively on a Thursday night, perfect for the theater crowd.

The bar is packed, just as she expected, and she doesn't immediately see Thomas. She has just ordered a glass of wine when she sees another familiar figure further along the bar.

Harvey is with a twenty-something brunette. She looks just like a young Scottie. He's sitting on a bar stool, she's standing between his legs. He has his hands wrapped around her tiny waist, she has hers resting lightly on his shoulders, leaning towards him. They're clearly flirting hard, unaware of everyone around them.

She instantly feels sick to her stomach. Heart racing, breath quickening, she downs her wine, grabs her bag and coat and heads for the exit, her friends all oblivious to her panic due to the noise and crowds. She's pushing her way through as best she can when she runs straight into Thomas.

"Woah there." He sees it's her. "Donna! You made it," he exclaims, before taking in her panic-stricken face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I need to get to a bathroom."

"He steers her quickly through the crowd to the toilets, nudges her gently in one of the cubicles and closes the door. After she has been sick, she sinks to the ground, trying to steady her breathing. Shit. What on earth would Thomas think of her? She has met him three times and twice she has had some kind of panic attack. He is going to think she is insane. She hears a gentle knock, and she pushes the door ajar with her foot.

"You ok?" He takes her in. "You're not." He steps inside the room and locks the door behind him, then crouches next to her. He puts a hand on each of her upper arms. Breathe with me, ok. In… and out."

They sit there together for a few minutes until Donna's breathing steadies, and her heart stops feeling like it's beating it's way out of her chest. Now she just feels exhausted. And really, really sad.

"OK, shall we get you out of here?" He stands up and offers a hand to help her to her feet.

He hauls her up, picks up her coat and helps her into it, and grabs her bag.

"Let's get you home."

"Thomas, thank you, but I'll…"

"I'm going to see you home, no arguments. Now lean on me, I'll get you out of here and into the fresh air in no time."

She takes his arm, and once again he steers her swiftly through the crowd, politely excusing them, his stature helping to beat a path through the press of people.

Their route takes them right past Harvey and his girl. Donna keeps her eyes down and sees nothing more than their legs, concentrating on her breathing and trying to blank her mind. She prays he didn't see her.

In the fresh air, Thomas drops her arm and stands facing her. "Are you doing any better?"

"I am. I'm sure I'll be fine from here."

"I really would like to see you home, if that's ok with you? You'd do the same in my place."

She smiles gratefully. "Yes, OK. I'd like to walk if you don't mind? Clear my head. It's about 15 minutes." She's glad she'd changed into more comfortable shoes for her rehearsal.

Thomas offers her his arm. "Lead the way."

They walk in silence for a minute or two.

I'm so sorry Thomas, what must you think of me?"

"Honestly? I think you're a wonderful person who is going through a hard time. I won't pry, but I hope things get better soon."

"Thank you Thomas."

"Look, I don't know if this is helpful right now, and I don't want to complicate things. But that night at the party, I felt we had a connection that doesn't come along very often. If things change someday and you'd like to get dinner, then call me."

She nods and smiles up at him. "Thanks Thomas. I had a really good time that night too. But you're right, there are some things I need to resolve first."

They lapse back into silence.

"How come a great guy like you is single?" she ventures, wanting to turn the subject away from herself and the giant mess that is her life."

"I was widowed six years ago."

"I'm so sorry Thomas."

"Yes, obviously it really sucked," he gives a sad little chuckle. I'm in no hurry to meet someone, but I'm ready now, and open to it. But - full disclosure - I'm looking for a real relationship, not just a fling."

"That's refreshingly straightforward."

He fixed her with a piercing look. "You'll always know where you are with me. I'm too old for games. I'm in or out, and I'll always be clear on that."

They walk in silence. He has obviously worked out there's something considerably less straightforward going on between her and someone else, but she wonders whether he has deduced that it's Harvey. He might feasibly have seen him looking at her at the party, or even noticed him in the bar tonight.

"I'm looking to settle down too. And if we'd met at a different time..."

"Donna, you don't owe me an explanation. If it's meant to be for us, it'll work itself out."

He leaves her at the door to her building, leaving her with a chaste kiss on the cheek and his card.

The more Donna sees of Thomas, the more impressed she is. He's so kind, so considerate, so honest. But as she gets ready for bed, however, Thomas is not the one on her mind.

She is trying desperately not to picture Harvey as she'd seen him tonight: his playful, flirtatious grin, his body angled towards the girl's perfect young body, the placement of his hands low on her waist, almost wrapped the whole way round it.

Trying not to wonder if tiny brunettes are more his thing than tall redheads.

Trying not to imagine what he was doing right now.

Is he with that girl, but thinking of Donna, wishing it was her, pretending it is her? She isn't sure if that thought disturbs her, comforts her, or, if she's brutally honest with herself, turns her on.

If she were to be with someone else now, she certainly couldn't trust herself not to close eyes and make it Harvey. Harvey devouring her neck, Harvey's hands roaming over her body, Harvey filling her, pounding into her until she forgets it all and feels good again.

Sex with someone else would never really feel like sex him though. With Harvey sex is always more than the sum of its parts. What she craves is the feeling of being with someone she knows so well, desires so intensely, loves so deeply, and that's impossible to replicate with someone new. It's in the tender way he looks at her, the reverence in his touch, the sense of wonder at it all being so familiar, yet so new.

Chasing the feeling, she squeezes her eyes shut and runs her own hands over her bare skin, imagining Harvey touching her, which turns without warning to Harvey touching Scottie, to Harvey touching the girl in the bar, until she comes and finds she feels shaken and unsatisfied, worse, not better.

If she wasn't so mad at him, she would feel sorry for him. He had told her picking up girls in bars didn't make him happy anymore. Although she doesn't really have a right to be mad, she thinks. It's not like he made her any promises, not ever. Unless the whole weekend had been a huge unspoken promise.

Exhaustion overcomes her anger, and she is spared these thoughts for any longer as she falls into a heavy sleep, until the alarm wakes her and realises that it's another week day and she has no choice but to face Harvey.