A/N at the bottom guys, instead you get a definition :D
This lovely little thing is courtesy of Urban Dictionary (excuse the language guys)…
**Douchebag : Someone who has surpassed the levels of jerk and asshole, however not yet reached fucker or motherfucker. Not to be confused with douche.**
RANDOM WARNING: the language in this chapter gets a bit rude, so be prepared.
Disclaimer: I do not own Suits—*cries*—the boys and Donna belong to USA Network and Aaron Korsh.
DATE 2: DOUCHEBAG SMACKDOWN
"How was dinner with the antichrist?"—Donna
Donna POV
"This is absurd," I heard myself repeat into the receiver for the fifteenth time.
"I'm sorry Donna, but we agreed. You agreed," the voice on the other end reminded.
I very nearly banged my head against the desk and cursed my inner pride at being a woman of her word.
"But Amy I—
"No buts Donna," Amy's tone turned amused. "Besides, I already reserved a table at Le Bernadin for the two of you. Steve will meet you there at eight. Try to be nice. You still owe your end of the deal."
I let the line pause, still stewing in my decision.
"Fine," I finished in a far more exasperated tone than I intended. It was not like I had a choice after all. I gave my word, and I never go back on it.
"Fantastic," I could almost hear the girl smiling. "It was nice doing business with you Donna. Tell Harvey I said hi."
The line clicked and I set down my end of the receiver. I barely held back a groan. What had I gotten myself into?
"Who was that?" Harvey's voice made me jump.
I looked to find said lawyer leaning over my desk. For once I had no idea he was there, and that thought alone scared me as well as the curious expression on his face. Whether it was from the phone conversation or from my reaction to his question, I would never know.
"Just Amy," I responded as I subtly tried to regain my composure. "She wanted to know how the case went," I lied with far more ease than I should have.
Harvey clearly did not believe me, but he played along.
"Well I hope my greatness was properly alluded to," the closer smirked.
"I assure you that your ego was stroked enough to last for the next three months," I grumbled at my computer, fingers returning to the familiar pace of the keys. "Jessica needs to see you," I glanced at the clock, "Now."
"I was on my way there when a certain redhead decided to grab my attention," Harvey's smile was cocky as he leaned further into my space.
I glared. Harvey straightened.
"So little faith Donna," he patronized as he strode down the hall.
"Oh I have plenty of faith," I called after him, eyes still on my screen. "Enough to save your ass again," I muttered to myself.
I eyed the clock again. 7:15 pm. Forty-five minutes before I had to meet Steve.
Steve. I actually did groan this time.
Sometimes I wondered if Harvey was really worth it.
Amy Collins was the top accountant for William & Peterson, and was currently at the top of my web of assets. She had an exceptionally executed habit of digging up legal skeletons. A habit that proved invaluable to Harvey's most recent case. It was also the reason the closer was currently in Jessica's office reaping the benefits of yet another win.
I sighed and turned my head to the glass door behind me: Harvey Specter, Junior Partner. Those words were the only reason I had ever agreed to this mess.
It was no secret to the firm that Harvey was a few wins away from promotion. The promotion. And I'd be damned if I did not help him get it. Even to the extent of agreeing to absurd demands from a valued informant. I owed Amy. It was simple as that. And it was never unheard of for information to come at a price. This particular price, however, was a bit of a stretch.
A date.
A blind date.
I had balked at first. I was not that kind of woman. But Amy had been adamant that this was the only type of payment she would accept for her aide. And Harvey had needed the information. Badly. So I did what any delusionally loyal assistant would do. I sucked it up and took one for the team. The resulting victory was worth it. Even more so was the look on Harvey's face when I handed him the damning document. Basking in my superiority was a rare thing for Harvey Specter.
I smirked at my computer screen. Remembering the scene six hours before helped ease my current discomfort at the night ahead. My eye caught the clock again and I forced myself to leave for the night. Normally, I would wait for Harvey. I still had not congratulated him after all. Not that he needed it. And celebratory drinks between the two of us had been a tradition since Harvard. I frowned and glanced towards Jessica's office, almost wishing the lawyer would appear.
I shook my head. Harvey could not save me from this mess. Harvey did not need to know about this mess either. Alerting a certain closer of a date, let alone a blind date, did not seem to be in my best interest. I could save myself. It was my decision and I would see it through. Grabbing my purse, I slipped into Harvey's office and poured a glass of scotch. I scribbled a quick apology and set the scotch on top of the note. It would have to do.
I tried to reason with myself as I made my way to the elevators. It would not be that bad. I liked Amy. We had met for lunch a couple of times. Granted, it was mostly to talk information, but she was not an unreasonable person. If I could handle Amy, Cousin Steve should be easy to deal with.
...
..
.
Never in my life had I ever considered the prospect of murdering someone with my bare hands. It was messy and left far too much evidence to cover. The hands-on experience also tended to negate even the best legal loopholes. No, murder was far better served through subtle strategy and blackmail, and a well reasoned revenge never hurt. Now though, it took every ounce of my willpower not to rip Steve's eyeballs out of their sockets and bludgeon his head in with the tequila bottle placed dangerously close to my right hand.
How I had even made it this far I would never know. Maybe it was an attribute to dealing with lawyers for fifteen years. Or maybe that god-like patience Harvey always admired was finally paying off. Neither option would make the night go by faster. I glanced at the neon clock by the door. Midnight. I groaned. Another goddamn hour.
Amy had been very specific in her demands. The payment was a date, and a complete one at that: dinner, some recreational activity, and drinks to end the night. Unfortunately beating my douche of a date's head in and leaving within the first minute was not included in the itinerary. So I did what I always did in self-deprecating situations: I smiled. And put on the best damn act of my life. It hadn't been easy.
It did not take a grade-A genius to figure that Amy's cousin was a class-act douchebag. Steve's very presence put our Harvard associates to shame. Dinner, if you could call it that, was a monologue that redefined narcissism. I never got a word in, not that I wanted to. While his mouth was going non-stop, his eyes wondered every inch of my frame, undressing as they went. I was too busy glaring holes into Steve's skull to comprehend anything the man said.
The movie was not any better. The cliché did not help. Dinner and a movie was so cookie-cutter, and I was unwillingly reminded of every high school date gone wrong. Steve did not disappoint. Insert "romantic" comedy. Foul humor and plenty of naked women to give any guy an excuse to grope his date. I apparently was not an exception to this. I lost count of how many times I had slapped his hand away. It did not matter. The idiot acted like it was a game, encouraged by each hit. It was like dealing with a five year old.
By some well-placed miracle, we had made it to the bar: the seventh and last gate of my personal hell. The place was packed, and I fought the temptation to slip away. Far, far away. I shifted in my stool and reminded myself of my word. Reluctantly, I looked to my left to find Steve shoving beer number five down his throat. The tequila bottle mocked me again. I glared at the bar and made myself breathe. One hour. That was it. Then I was home free.
I flagged the bartender for a shot and welcomed the relief as the alcohol burned down my throat.
It was short-lived.
I had barely set the glass on the bar when I felt a familiarly unwelcome hand grazing up my backside. I was surprised it had taken him this long. Steeling myself, I grabbed his wrist as opposed to slapping it. That tactic did not work so well last time. Instead, I guided his hand back to his side of the bar with far more experience than I should have had. As I released his hand, I noticed he had added two more beers to his tally. I sighed, completely at the mercy of the clock. 12:25 am. The seconds were literally ticking by.
Five minutes later, doucheking was back to his grope-fest. I did not hesitate in slapping him this time. The glare on my face capable of withering the most esteemed lawyers. Steve seemed to be immune. I rolled my eyes as he yielded to yet another beer, and decided to spend my time on more pressing matters. Like how I was going to get home. Steve was obviously not an option. I would chop off my arms and legs before getting into a car with the likes of him. A cab was a better choice.
Contrary to popular belief, New York cabs were not late-night deathtraps. If anything they were safer, the drivers paying more attention to the copious nightlife. I vetoed the idea quickly despite the fact. The cab was not the problem… I was. The cab may be relatively safe, but the drivers were not always the most polite bunch. And I knew that by the end of this night my patience for anything less than a gentleman would be completely shot.
That left one option.
Despite my guilt at the hour, I dialed the familiar number. Ray answered on the second ring.
"Hello Donna," the man responded, polite as ever and an extreme relief to my current company. "What can I do for you tonight?"
"Hi Ray," my voice was as happy as I could muster, but it sounded fake to my ears. "I'm sorry for the hour, but I find myself in a bit of a predicament and was wondering if you would mind picking me up?" I hedged carefully, trying to keep my voice neutral. "I'm at Madden's on 5th."
"It's no problem at all," the driver answered smoothly. "I'm actually in the area. I can be there in fifteen minutes."
"Thank you I—
My breath of relief was cut short as a hand snaked up my thigh and came dangerously close to the line of my dress.
SMACK.
I watched in grim satisfaction as Steve howled silently and shook his hand, which was red from impact. My own palm stung. This particular slap seemed to echo throughout the bar. I was sure even Ray had heard it.
"Donna?" I dimly heard the driver question and I pushed the cell back against my ear, careful to keep both eyes on the obnoxiously eager man next to me.
"Sorry Ray," it was all I could do not to gasp out the answer as I tried to calm my breathing. God help me, I might actually kill someone tonight.
"Is everything alright?" Ray asked, tone closing in on worry.
I did not want the driver to worry. If he did, it would eventually get back to Harvey. And that was the last thing I needed.
"Everything's fine," I managed confidently.
"Alright," he seemed to believe me. "I am on my way now."
I was almost positive my sigh could be heard from China.
"I'm getting you a raise for this Ray," I finished.
"Anything for you Donna," the man responded and I heard the familiar click of the line going dead.
I glanced back at the clock. 12:40 am. I could do this. A mantra of It's for Harvey sang through my head in a futile attempt at distraction.
Ten minutes and a shot later, the inevitable happened.
Steve was not even remotely subtle this time. The grab had enough force to send me flying from my stool. I tried, I really did. But there was only so much a woman could take, even at my standard. And standing there, looming over his ridiculous smile, I did something that I never do.
I lost control.
Instinct had my fist connecting to his face faster than either of us could comprehend. The force of it snapped Steve's head back in a sickeningly satisfying way. My right hand throbbed, but for the first time in the entire date, my smile was genuine as I watched the blood ooze down his features. It was a good look for him.
Steve had a different opinion.
"Dammit woman!" He moaned against the bar. "You broke my fucking nose!" The whine was muffled by the hands cradling his face.
Over his hands and the blood, he seethed at me. His eyes were contorted in a peculiar expression. I think it was supposed to be menacing. How he managed to pull off any attempt at emotion through his alcoholic haze, I did not know. And I did not care. He wanted intimidating? Well, two could play that game.
Grabbing his shirt collar roughly, I leaned in until I was close enough to smell the blood and alcohol wafting from him.
"I will be doing a lot more than that if you ever touch me again," the threat seemed to hit home as I watched the man's eyes widen. "Understand that," I ground out the last statement. It was not a question and I turned on my heel before the idiot could respond. But not before he grabbed my arm, stopping my exit.
I took a shuddering breath and let the anger seep through me. Without turning, without even looking, I wrenched Steve from his seat with every ounce of strength my body possessed.
It was enough to land the scumbag right in front of me, and my knee forcibly connected with his groin before the bastard even had his footing. The effect was instantaneous. Steve dropped to the ground in seconds, whimpering like the wounded animal he was. The adrenaline coursed through me along with the now tangible static of the bar. My eyes never left Steve's writhing form, but I knew every eye in the place was on the two of us. The entire atmosphere had diminished into stunned silence. It was my final cue.
Straightening my dress with practiced poise, I left a generous tip for the bartender and turned once again towards the exit. My heels echoed against the hardwood as I neared the fallen excuse for a man.
"Asshole," I muttered, gracefully stepped over the still-groaning douche.
A smile worthy of the Academy graced my face as I crossed the floor. The neon wall clock glared at me as I neared, announcing my premature departure.
My smile did not falter as I pushed open the door.
Amy would damn well deal with five minutes.
My heels could not carry me out of there fast enough.
"I didn't know my company was that repulsive," the familiar voice made me jump for the second time that night, my eyes snapping up ahead.
The shock made me halt. And it took a moment for my mind to figure where the voice had come from, or rather why it had come from a certain bane of my existence. My eyes rolled. I should have known.
Harvey leaned against the town car nonchalantly, an intrigued look on his face. Whether it was from my reaction or from my attire remained unseen. Ray was standing quietly outside the driver's door and I glared at the man.
"Ray, what is he doing here?" I did not even try to hide my exasperation as I continued my way to the curb, eyes still trained on the driver and ignoring the junior partner to my right.
"I was on my way to dropping Mr. Specter off when you called," Ray smiled nervously, "He insisted I come and get you first."
"From the office?" I questioned incredulously.
Ray nodded.
"At 1:00 am?" I hedged and Ray shifted in his stance. I knew he was lying. Calling Harvey Mr. Specter was the first hint, and Ray was never exceptionally good at the game. He was loyal though. And I knew without a doubt that he would lie to keep Harvey out of the line of fire. It was a habit we shared, and the only thing that saved him.
I rounded on the lawyer and allowed the driver to slink back into the car. Harvey was a workaholic. Late night sessions at the firm had come to be expected by both Ray and myself. On any other night it was a plausible excuse, but it was Friday, and I was not an idiot. I eyed the closer with an expression that mirrored said thought exactly.
Harvey just smirked in response.
I shut my eyes and forced myself to sigh instead of resorting to yet another round of physical violence. I did not think my hand could take much more. "Just take me home," I muttered to the concrete. Without a word, Harvey opened the door and we both slipped inside the car.
I could feel his eyes on me and was thankful for the darkness of the interior as the car drifted back into traffic. Harvey always let his curiosity get the better of him and tonight was no exception. He had been curious since the encounter at my desk. Add to that the note, the scotch, and me calling Ray at an ungodly hour and Harvey was nearly bursting with anticipation. I was not against prolonging the agony.
"So what did Jessica say?" I tried to make my voice as amiable as possible. It was hard as I glanced out the window. We weren't heading to my apartment. I glared at the passing city lights as the realization hit me. My jaw clenched. It was Harvey's way of fixing things—carting me off to his apartment until he got answers. He knew I hated it. I knew I did not have a choice. When Harvey Specter wanted answers, he got them. Cooperation be damned.
"How did your date go?" He countered, completely ignoring my question.
I rolled my eyes at my ignorance. Of course he knew, he always did, but that did not mean I had to go quietly.
"Who said it was a date?" I inquired innocently, still not looking at the man to my right.
"Nice try," the lawyer tone coated his voice. "You walk out of a bar, late at night, in that dress—I didn't have to see to know he was eyeing my appreciatively—and you expect me to believe differently? You forget who you're talking to," Harvey scoffed.
"I know exactly who I'm talking to," I countered icily, this time turning towards him, "And I also know it is none of your business."
"Information exchanged for my benefit seems to be exactly my business," the partner returned and I saw his eyes flash in the dim light. Mine widened in realization.
"You talked to Amy." It was not a question. I always prided myself in knowing Harvey Specter—really knowing him. I forgot sometimes that he knew me too. And in the isolation of the car, he was not afraid of showing it.
"Talked isn't even close," he began, "manipulated is more like it. Went through every single favor you two had ever pulled until she mentioned a reimbursement involving a certain cousin of hers," he finished and glared ahead.
I was amazed and a little irked. Amazed that he had managed to get that much out of Amy. Irked that the woman had given in to the Specter charm.
"I taught you well," I whispered to myself. The close proximity of the car had Harvey hearing it as well.
The closer gave a noise of disagreement.
"I did what I had to do," I continued strongly.
"You didn't have to do anything," Harvey turned to me then, irritation written all over his face. "I could have handled that case without you selling yourself out to some blind d—
"Stop it." I cut him off harshly. My temper seethed at the last comment.
The lawyer bit his tongue and turned back to glaring at the upholstery.
I took a deep breath. "Harvey," I paused to get his attention and continued when I didn't, "look at me," I commanded. The partner hesitated slightly before turning back to me, anger still in his eyes.
"I did not sell myself to anyone, for anything, nor will I ever," I started, "Even for you," I continued. "Is that clear?" I glared in question, my tone leaving no room for rebuttal. That did not mean Harvey did not try.
"Donna that's not—
"Harvey," I nearly growled and I saw his shoulders stiffen ever so slightly.
"Yes," he relented tightly, obviously aware that I had already been pushed past my limit tonight.
But I knew it wasn't over.
"I don't like you paying for my shortcomings on cases," he steeled.
"I've done it before," I said knowingly.
"Not like this," he countered.
"You needed that information Harvey," my emphasis was not lost, "and don't you dare try to tell me differently."
"I should have won without it," he shot back.
I threw up my hands in exasperation. "So I had to suffer through a lousy date," my voice raised on its own accord, "it's not like I signed my soul away."
"And next time I need dirt?" He hedged. "What happens then?"
"I assure you nothing like this will ever happen again," I seethed as I remembered the past five hours. "After tonight..." I trailed off and gazed back out the window. "Amy should have known better."
For some reason that last statement seemed to sober the lawyer up.
"That bad?" He questioned suspiciously and it was my turn to scoff.
My eyes went back to his and found the barest hint of amusement lingering behind earlier emotions. It was a small relief, and I went with it.
"Do you remember Louis's cousin from that firm benefit a few years back?" I asked.
"The one that couldn't keep his hands off you?" Harvey's gaze darkened. "Yes, unfortunately. I'm pretty sure the entire firm wanted to deck the guy."
I eyed him expectantly.
"No," his tone rang of disbelief and his eyes widened.
"Nope," I popped the word and Harvey's gaze swam with relief.
Unfortunately, I couldn't let it last.
"Worse," I finished, widening my eyes dramatically.
The lawyer groaned and closed his eyes, shaking his head in remorse.
"I am so sorry," he whispered in exaggerated agony. How exaggerated, I wasn't quite sure.
I smiled to myself, relieved that he finally got the picture. I didn't see him move his hand to rest on mine, but I felt it. And I flinched despite myself. I silently cursed as Harvey's eyes shot open. The small amount of peace was broken. His eyes met mine in question before snapping down to our hands. I knew better than to try to pull away, but his increased grip was not helping my resolve. It hurt damnit.
"Harvey," I tried to keep the pleading out of my voice, but I probably failed.
Not that it mattered, Harvey was not listening. A fact made glaring obvious as the sudden light from the overhead switch nearly blinded me. I felt my hand being raised by two familiar ones and I blinked rapidly to clear my vision. I was not surprised to find Harvey hovering over my injured hand. I was surprised to find it bloody. When did that happen?
A muffled curse from my right brought a halt to my intrigue. I glanced over apprehensively. Harvey had always been protective, but he was never overbearing. There were only a select few he deemed worthy of protection, and I had only seen him lose it once in ten years. His reaction to my hand, however, said otherwise. It wasn't that bad. Black and blue sure, but the taint of red made it seem worse than it was.
"What happened?" He very nearly growled and the tone had me instinctively trying to retract my hand from his grasp. It didn't work and he glared at my attempt. I could see the wheels in his head churning out worst-case scenarios and was utterly glad that we had already left the bar. He subconsciously pulled me closer.
"Harvey," I said calmly, trying to placate him. His eyes wandered the rest of my frame, no doubt looking or any other signs of struggle. "Harvey," I repeated when he wouldn't look at me, grabbing his wrist with my left hand. The contact managed to revert his attention back to me.
"It's not mine." The statement had the desired effect.
"What?" He asked. The confusion was clear, and I could see the rare instinct start to dwindle.
"It's. Not. Mine." I said slowly to emphasize the point, quirking an eyebrow expectantly.
His gaze remained a question and I waited patiently. As the insinuation hit home, Harvey's eyes widened tenfold. It was almost offending.
"You didn't," his apprehension was apparent, but I could see the barest shadow of a smile.
"Mmmmm hmmm," I hummed and nodded.
The smile was full blown now. The shock replaced by a devious acceptance.
"I hope the poor bastard deserved it," he chuckled and the tension eased as he finally released my hand.
"I broke his nose," I stated smugly as I subtly flexed the feeling back into my right hand. "And most likely prevented him from ever having children," I finished slyly. I smiled at the memory.
I saw Harvey wince slightly and shift in his seat. My smile turned wicked.
That didn't stop the closer from leaning over and kissing my forehead. "Good girl," he whispered.
I glared at him halfheartedly.
He smirked and returned to his previous position, eyes mocking a challenge.
I grudgingly turned my attention back to the window before I hit him.
Harvey just chuckled.
The remainder of the ride was silent, though it did not last long. We were closer than I had anticipated and soon enough the car rested next to the curb of Harvey's building.
Harvey opened my door and took my good hand to help me out. I was well past my irritation at being carted to his place. The familiar building was a welcome sight compared to an otherwise horrid night. I began to stride towards it willingly when a hand caught my arm, halting my process. My body turned on its own accord.
"Wh—
The question died on my lips as I caught Harvey's stare. It was an expression he did not wear often, and I knew that he was serious. I also knew what was coming.
"Are you OK?" The humor was gone and I knew I was facing the residual instinct from before. This was what the closer had wanted to ask, but I had not let him.
"I'm fine Harvey," I said. I meant it too. "I'm a big girl you know," I added for his benefit.
It had the desired effect. The partner shook his head and smiled, and I knew he was wondering why he had even bothered.
Good.
"Come on," he nodded towards the building. His arm wrapped around my waist as he led us to the doors. I silently thanked my body for subconsciously recognizing Harvey's touch. My instincts were wired, and the last thing I needed was an ill-timed punch to the lawyer's face. Especially at a time that he actually did not deserve it. I'd never hear the end of it.
"You owe me a drink," Harvey's voice brought me out of my thoughts and I found the closer smirking down at me.
I furrowed my brow in mock confusion.
"I recall leaving you a drink," I mused. "My debts are paid," I paused and fixed him with a pointed look. "You sir," I mocked, "owe me a drink."
"A scotch and a hurried note are hardly grounds for payment," Harvey countered as if he were in trial. "Besides," he continued, "what are you going to do? Hit me?" He finished playfully and his eyebrows rose in practiced astonishment.
"Don't tempt me Specter," I warned. "My left hand works perfectly," I reminded him and smiled sweetly. I could tell by the look on his face that he did not know if I was serious or not.
"It's tradition," Harvey hedged hopefully, but changed tactic when I did not budge.
"I have ice," he tried again, glancing pointedly at my hand.
He had me there.
"Fine," I relented and Harvey eased slightly. "But I'm not making any promises," I finished.
I smirked as I felt the arm around me stiffen.
A/N: oops, it's long again.
So first off, I apologize for this taking longer. One of my best friends got married last weekend, and I was in the bridal party—which FYI takes up every last minute reserved for FF.
Sorry again, you guys have been AMAZING. Seriously, thank you for every single review. I hope that with this installment, y'all are starting to see the pattern and will be prepared for the next three.
I had a serious beef with this chapter, considering one definite fact: Donna would NEVER go on a blind date.
But alas, the unrealistic side of my mind won out and poor Donna had to sit through pages of torture that she would have never agreed too. Hopefully the kicking-ass made up for it. The good news is I'm starting to come to terms with the whole protective OOC Harvey thing… I think.
Ok, enough of my whining ;) let me know what you guys think—Love you! And Review!
Oh and for the record, Donna needs a last name. And they better well give us one for Season 2. I'm getting tired of not being able to type one… just sayin'.
-HV
