Hi everyone. THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the reviews, made me work on this immediately again. Here's the second part (of the 3 part fic).. I have to say this fic started as something more funny, but it took a turn on it's own as I started wondering more and more how this little object is going to influence Donna's arc and possibly darvey.. and it transformed into this. Enjoy, and I would love to read your thoughts. x

The Donna. – PART II

EARLIER THAT DAY

He turns over another page from the manila folder in front of him. Clicking twice with his pen, he scribbles something down on the notepad next to the folder. Staring at his own handwriting for a moment, he frowns and goes back to the previous page to check some facts.

"Are you okay?"

His already less than usual concentration broken, the pen drops from his hand back on the table and his head automatically pops up to look in the direction of her cubicle. He notices then that she isn't even there and he crooks his head, studying his view for a moment. A frown forming on his lips when she really is nowhere to be seen. Not even in his office he now realises as he turns around in his chair. His gaze drops to the little device on his desk at last. "Ooh god," he sighs. "It was you."

"Don't Ooh God me. I was just asking if you were okay, geez."

"Aren't you supposed to respond to me talking to you," he counters, making a face at the object. "Not the other way around?"

"Newsflash, mister. Two can start a conversation."

His brows draw together and he shakes his head. Pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're a …" he pauses his sentence, not even sure how to fill in the rest. "Thing," he settles on.

"I'm not apologising for who I am, Harvey."

His hand now drops back to the table and he grins at first, remembering the time the redhead said those actual words to him. He shakes his head, this device something else and in a way it was pretty entertaining. He crooks his head then, his gaze narrowing in on the object again and he realises it just said his name. "Wait," he mumbles. "You know my name?"

"I'm The Donna, I know everything."

He bites his tongue and shakes his head, once again trying not to smile when the machine throws another classic Donna-ism in his direction. He thinks about all the times she said that to him and all the times that line came up short and he realises all those times have something in common. Him and his feelings towards her. Not everything, he thinks to himself.

He now notices the redhead appear in the corner of his eye and his gaze follows her for a second. He watches her lift a stack of files from her desk before she walks off in the direction of the copy room again. He decides to keep his comments to himself, but he can't help but smile a little at the idea that for once he knows more than she does.

.

He hits enter, sending the email he typed up to one of his clients. He turns his laptop off, closing the lid. He tidies his desk and turns his desk chair around. His elbow leaning on the arm rest, his chin leaning on his hand. He stares out of the window for a moment, just taking in the view as his thoughts wander off to recent events.

"You want to talk about it?"

"What?" he mumbles, his eyes closing for a moment. He keeps looking at the Manhattan skyline, trying to recollect his thoughts. He's been doing that a lot these past days, thinking.

"You're so quiet."

He smiles softly realising the witty remarks from earlier have now made place for comments that were even more like the redhead and if he tries to ignore the idea that this is all a machine, it's actually having a somewhat calming effect on him. He always spend his days with her and they'd always been filled with conversations here or there, but this constant back and forth something else. Even if it was just a machine, it showed him of something that could be. "I was just thinking," he answers.

"About?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head, not willing to admit the things he's been realising more and more everyday out loud yet. He glances at her desk from the corner of his eye once more. Letting out a sigh when he sees it's still empty and he knows she's probably just making copies for him, but something inside him aches.

He hates this sight, it reminding him of the times she left him and people aren't supposed to leave him. That's the line he'd been telling himself for almost two decades, almost a mantra. The images of the dream not forgotten, mixed with the redhead telling him he spend so much time outside the office lately and suddenly he wonders if she ever felt that he had left her.

The idea only bringing him back to that one line that's been haunting him since the moment the redhead threw it in his direction. "All I know is something happened and YOU RAN AWAY, but not before you told me you loved me."

It followed by a production of his own subconscious. "YOU BAILED OUT the second I wanted more."

And to top it all off, the hard truth his mother shared with him. "I said take a look in the mirror, Harvey, because I may have neglected my family in the past, but you've been doing it for as long as I can remember."

"Got it. Your mother."

He lets out a breath, too tired to fight it. "Ok," he mumbles instead. "How?"

"I told you. I'm the Donna –"

"I know," he answers before the machine could and he chuckles softly at the absurdity of the entire situation. He's fully aware he's having a conversation with a mysterious device, yet it feels strangely familiar.

"That's my line."

He smiles shaking his head. Letting out a laugh at a sudden thought. "God, I'm glad you're called The Donna and not The Louis, cause I'd probably have thrown you out of my window if you said 'I just got Litt Up' every five minutes."

"I can add that to my vocabulary, if you want."

He groans, rolling his eyes and mentally cursing himself for bringing that up. "No."

"Too late."

.

He pushes himself out of his chair, making his way over to his record collection. Glancing at her cubicle from the corner of his eye for a moment, he softly smiles and focuses on the task at hand again. Pulling out a record, he studies the cover for a moment before he places it back. Opting for one of his father's instead. He quietly walks over to the record player and puts it on.

"I love this song."

He smiles, letting his hands rest on the cabinet for a moment. He looks up at the picture, his smile only growing when he thinks back to her helping him place the picture on his wall. "Me too," he answers then, turning around to face the table. He steps between two of the chairs, his right hand lifting the bottle of scotch from the table. Automatically pouring two glasses. One in each hand, he turns around. His hand almost stretched to hand it to the redhead, he reminds himself that she wasn't even there and he lets out a laugh then.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head. Placing both glasses of scotch on his desk. "It's just.." he paused for a moment, thinking over this answer. "Your comments are generally so on point with how Donna could answer, for a moment I forgot I was talking to a machine instead of her."

"So you like talking to me? I mean her?"

He stays silent for a moment, thinking over the remark the little device made this time. Just smiling, he looks at her cubicle again. "I thought you knew everything."

"I'll take that as a yes."

He chuckles, bringing his gaze back to his own desk. He reaches for his glass again, taking one sip from it. The alcohol burning on his lips, he swallows. "I do," he mumbles, but he doesn't mean just talking to her.

NOW

"I think I broke it," Harvey says, bringing his hands behind his back again. "Please don't tell her."

His words making Benjamin's eyes widen and the younger man just shakes his head now, lifting up the little device as if it was a delicate bird. Turning it over in his hand. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Harvey counters instantly. "I uhm.." he pauses, thinking back to the last things he said before the device stopped answering. "Nothing really. Donna asked me to test it and she said to talk to it and it would respond," he signals the object in Benjamin's hand. "That's all I did, until it didn't answer anymore. The lights just blinked a few times."

Benjamin lets out a sigh, humming once as he's already thinking over what could have gone wrong. "Might just be the battery," he mumbles, more to himself than as explanation to the lawyer.

Harvey lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The battery sounding like an easy enough thing to fix and something he couldn't possibly have caused to go wrong. "Good," he states with a nod. Taking a step back, he retreats himself from the younger man's office.

"Mr. Specter," Benjamin calls after Harvey, making the lawyer turn around again. "Can I ask you something?"

Harvey nods.

"She uhm," the IT guy starts, looking at the object on his desk for a moment before he faces the lawyer again. "She only agreed to work with me if I were able to make it more like her," he explains and he sees the older man nod. "Do you… Do you think it's like her?"

Harvey thinks for a moment about the comments the little device threw in his direction during the day, his lips curling up a bit. "It's certainly a part of her," Harvey comments. "But not everything. She's more than that."

Benjamin takes in the other man's words and swallows, looking down in disappointment.

"But maybe," Harvey continues when he notices the mood change on Benjamin's face. "That's a part one can't capture in a device."

.

He walks out of the bathroom, his gaze lifting when he spots her pink pumps and he looks at her in surprise for a moment. "Hey," he smiles softly. "I thought you'd gone home," he adds then, he hadn't seen her in over an hour and it was late already.

"No," she shakes her head, but she knows why he could have thought that. She spend most of her time today running around the office, fixing things for him and helping Benjamin. The other moments shared with her thoughts and questions this situation had brought up. Rocking back and forth on her feet for a moment when he doesn't immediately continue the path down to his office. "I uhm.. was on my way to see you actually," she adds then and he grins.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he counters teasingly, bobbing his head to signal his office. Both of them start walking again.

"I work for you," she answers with a laugh when they turn the corner and he offers her a bright smile, but she swallows and looks down for a moment when she's sure he can't see it. That being exactly why she wanted to see him, she just isn't entirely sure she's ready to bring it up yet.

"Well you're lucky," he opens the door to his office for her. Letting her step inside first. "I just ordered from that shitty Thai place you love," he smirks, signalling the bags on his desk.

"It's not shitty," she counters, moving over to his desk. Smiling when she spots the box with her favourite food, she looks at him from the corner of her eye and he nods, indicating for her to take it. She lifts the cardboard box from the plastic back, opening it on her way over to his couch and she closes her eyes when she takes in the smell of food. Her stomach now starting to growl.

He pours two new glasses of scotch. Placing both of them on the coffee table, he walks back to his desk to get the other cardboard box. Waiting with opening it until he sits down next to her on the couch. She hands him his chopsticks and he smiles, finally focussing on his noodles just like she already did.

She suddenly notices the silence in his office and she slowly lifts her gaze to his desk. "Did you turn it off?" she asks, but she doesn't see the little black box.

"Actually," he counters, moving some noodles around in the box in his hand. "I brought it back to Benjamin, because I thought you'd –"

"Gone home," she remembers his words and he nods, offering her a smile again. She lets out a breath, staring at the box in her hand for a moment, trying to clear her thoughts. But once something is on her mind, she can't shake it anymore. "Do you like it?"

"It's pretty accurate," he answers instantly, but he sees her swallow and look down. He remembers her concerns about the project and the words he actually spoke to Benjamin. "On the sassiness department for sure," he rephrases his answer. "And in a way the other parts are there too. It just takes some time for The Donna to show them," he explains, looking at her again. "Just like you."

She feels a blush creep up on her cheeks and she smiles softly.

"It's fun," he concludes. "But no device can ever capture everything you are. You're far too special for that."

She swallows, looking away before she really starts to blush. "I know," she counters his answer with a grin.

He presses his lips into a thin line. He knows she's never really been able to accept a compliment from him and this answer was proving it again. "You have no idea how many times it said that," he counters and she smiles a genuine smile now.

"What would The Harvey say?" he thinks out loud then.

She chuckles at his questions. "O and everything, The Donna. O and everything," she answers imitating his voice, her head falling to the right. She looks him the eye again and she can feel a current run through her body in that moment. Her breath falters when she notices his gaze drop to her mouth and the way he wets his bottom lip.

Nerves getting the better of her, she shifts on the couch. Leaning forward, her elbow leaning on her knees she reaches for her glass of scotch. She swallows deeply and takes a sip of liquid courage. It not having in her to run away, but she doesn't know what exactly is happening either.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she shifts a little and looks in his direction over her shoulder. Watching him stir the chopstick through his noodles for a moment, his gaze lifts from the box and when he looks at her again her heart skips a beat.

"I don't have dreams I have goals," she says then, deciding to focus on the conversation they were just having. The silence became too much and she remembers him saying this to her on more than one occasion, it being another perfect catch phrase for The Harvey.

He clears his throat, shaking his head. "No," he answers, closing the cardboard box again. He places it on the coffee table. Looking to his left he notices the questioning look starting to from on her face. "Not that line," he clarifies, mirroring her position. His hands falling around the glass tumbler, his thumb traces the edge of the glass.

"Why?" she whispers now.

He can hear the sincerity in her one word question. She's genuinely wondering and it only confirms what he suspected earlier. She has no clue what's going on with him, with them and how much he's starting to realise what he wants. Who he wants. He takes a deep breath, taking one more second to look at her before he focusses on the auburn liquid again. "Because it's not true anymore."

She repeats his words in her head and presses her lips into a thin line, breaking his gaze again when realisation hits her. "You too," she states then, more to herself than to him and she lets out a sigh. Her head dropping in defeat, her left arm falling over her knees and her hand dangles in the limited space between them.

He hears the sudden sadness in her voice and he swallows, it's the one thing he's never been able to handle. His gaze drops to her hand and he's fighting every fibre in his being not to reach for her now, to just hold her hand. Let her know he's there for her in the same way she did just a couple of weeks ago, but things are even more different now. Tilting his torso the slightest to get a better look at the redhead instead, his left knee moves along with it and brushes past her fingers. He freezes for a second, his hand flexes over his own knee when she moves hers back. "What… What do you mean?" he asks, trying to focus on why he wanted to hold her hand in the first place instead of the effect she's having on him.

She closes her eyes, momentarily cursing herself for bringing something up she's still not even sure about herself. But she also knows that just like herself he won't let it go. Her teeth scrape over her lip and she takes a deep breath. "Everyone…" she starts, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "Everyone's moving on and I… I can't.. I'm..."

He frowns and slowly shakes his head. Not entirely sure what she exactly means with those words, but the tone she's using is killing him and he needs to do something. The fingertips of his left hand brush over her wrist and he whispers her name. Needing her to look at him.

A shiver runs down her spine at his sudden touch and her eyes flicker back up to his when her name leaves his lip in that one tone that always leaves her breathless. Instinctively she turns over her arm, his fingers sliding over her pulse point to her thumb, he briefly squeezes it and gives her a small smile. "Donna, what's going on?"

She swallows, biting on her bottom lip to fight the tears from forming in her eyes. Everything too much for a moment. "Ooh god," she curses the emotional mess she's becoming. She can't handle his touch anymore and she pushes herself on her feet in an instant. Her motions surprising both him and her, she looks around wondering about her own actions, he merely whispers her name again.

"It's just," she mumbles, shaking her head. She brings her hand to her face, her hand slipping through her hair as she paces up and down his office now. She stalls when he pronounces her name once more and she's really fighting the tears now. "Jessica left everything she built," she states, signalling the space around them. "Rachel did that death row case, she's killing it in law school. Mike got out of prison and found a place at a legal clinic. Louis is getting married and you…" she swallows, not pronouncing the rest of her sentence, she looks away again. "Everyone is doing something new and I'm just here. Still behind my desk, answering the phone. Doing the exact same thing as before."

He shifts over the couch, wanting to get up too, but she shakes her head and he sits back down on the edge. His gaze searches for hers and his hands momentarily clench into fists. "Donna you're not just.. ," he tries again, but the way she avoids his gaze makes him realise it doesn't matter if he denies her words or not. He swallows, the only option left pronouncing the question on the tip of his tongue. The thing he's really wondering. "What… Where's this coming from?"

She turns on her spot again, staring at her shoes for a moment. Her shoulders dropping once more. "I don't know," she fires back, not necessarily at his question, but at herself. She always managed to keep it together and right now it feel like she's at the point of no return. Words are going to spill out of her whether she wants them to or not. "Maybe," she mumbles now hesitant. Her feet starting to move again, she turns around when she reaches his desk. "This stupid The Donna thing," she speaks signalling the spot the little device was located earlier that day.

"What?" he counters, staring at her. "I thought you liked the project."

Donna shifts her weight on her other leg, not wanting to pace around anymore, but unable to stand still either. Unsure what to do with her hands, she starts fidgeting with her fingers. "No," she counters with a shake of her head, but she knows she's lying and she doesn't need him to point it out. "Yes," she says now before he can comment. "Yes," she repeats, glancing in his direction again. "It's just…" she swallows. "I… I didn't realise that was all people thought I was and I'm –"

"You're more than that," he answers, finally pushing himself on his feet. "Donna," he tries again taking two steps towards her, but he stalls when she speaks again.

"It made me think," she whispers then, using words to keep him at distance. Figuring as long as she's talking he can't do what her brain isn't willing to accept yet. She isn't even sure what that might be or where her answer is going or why exactly she's telling him all this, but she needs to get it out there. More for herself than for him. "You know," she adds, her eyes flickering up to his.

He understands what she's doing, whether it's consciously or subconsciously, but he remains in his spot. His foot scraping over the floor, he buries his hands in the pockets of his pants and nods. Silently encouraging her to continue.

"About why Benjamin… or anyone for that matter gets that image of me being just that," she half repeats her earlier words. "If it's because of what I say or how I act or what I do and have done over the years, what I've accomplished," she pauses with a shrug of her shoulders and a shake of her head. "Working for you has changed a lot over the years," she explains. "Especially lately."

He brows knitted into a frown and he crooks his head.

"You've grown so much," she tells him with a soft smile, for the first time really vocalising how unbelievably proud she is of him for dealing with his issues. It's all she ever hoped he'd do and at the same time it brought her into this tail spin of thoughts about what's left for her.

He thought he had for a while now, all the things he's been through these past months. The panic attacks, therapy and visiting his mom. A lot of things he dealt with on his own, so many more he started to realise, but it are her words of confirmation that act like the final push he needed in order for him to know for sure and he breaks out in a smile that reaches his eyes.

"And now," she lets out a breath, the sparkle in his eyes making her swallow because it makes everything so much more difficult. "Benjamin needed my help, not just to develop it further, but to get the confidence to believe it would work. With the presentation and… I don't know," she shakes her head, biting her lip, her eyes well up a little. She's already getting emotional at the thought. "A part of what I loved about working with you was that, the fact that you didn't treat me as just a secretary. You really needed me."

His smile fades a little and he swallows at the past tense she uses.

"You needed me to do my Donna thing with you to help you make decisions. Explain your…" she pauses, swallowing once when she notices his face fall even more, knowing her words will hurt him just as much as they will hurt her. "Thoughts," she continues, not able to use the word feelings, "for you, but you… You don't need me like that anymore."

His mouth drops a little and he gasps for air, he wants to take two steps towards her, but he can't. His body nailed to the ground after one. "Donna," he stutters, "I do… I do need you."

She feels her bottom lip starting to tremble when his eyes start to tear up too and she closes her own when a tear slips down her cheek. The saltiness of the tear burning her mouth, she draws her bottom lip between her teeth. Shaking her head before she looks back up at him again.

"No," she whispers, shaking her head once more. "Not really, not anymore. All you really need me for is to answer the phone. Manage your calendar," she breaks now. "Be the just a secretary and I don't know if that's going to be enough for me."