A/N : Decided to put it at the top this time (it's the only one I promise—feel free to skip).

RANDOM SUITS FACT OF THE DAY: For your amusement—scroll down if you want to skip.

** Fact that we already know, but it's totally worth restating: Gabriel Macht and Sarah Rafferty have been friends for the past 20 years, and their daughters are best friends—Awwwwww :D. No wonder the Harvey/Donna awesomeness is awesome, it's real ;)


Just a reminder, the chapters are not in chronological order, or any kind of order for that manner. They are just random oneshots. And I am writing them as I go. None of them are prepared ahead of time, only the ideas—right now I am sticking pretty tightly to a week to week and a half updating schedule (it's kicking my butt lol).

This one was a stubborn little ***. I really liked the idea, but wasn't sure how it would come out. I still don't know if I'm happy with it. I did kind of jump off the deep end so I apologize to my more "realistic" readers. I would also like to personally apologize to Harvey and Donna -_-U

THANK YOU FOR ALL OF THE REVIEWS FROM THE LAST TWO CHAPTERS! I LOVE YOU GUYS. Reviews are the Red Bulls to my Mike, so keep them up please!

Next chapter: Annual Pearson Hardman Date Auction… I think… Not quite sure about it yet.

Happy Reading—HV


Disclaimer: I do not own Suits—*cries*—the boys and Donna belong to USA Network and Aaron Korsh. Also, any stereotypes used mean no disrespect, it's simply for plot.


DATE 3: SO MUCH COOLER ONLINE

"Marry me?"—Harvey

"I took care of that too. We've been married for the past seven years."—Donna

Donna POV

Bad dates are bound to happen. It's the essence of dating really. Without them, it would simply be called date. The –ing takes a little more finesse and a lot more trying. One will eventually work out. That is, there's hope that one will eventually work out. Unfortunately, I find myself continually counting the failed attempts until that day comes. Like now, for instance.

Exhibit A: Kevin.

Haven't quite gotten to the last name yet, and not sure if I will. It had started off typical: online-setup, meet at the restaurant, sit down… It came to an abrupt halt after that, and I probably should have seen it coming. These online things tended to be too good to be true. Nice guy, dependable job, good-looking… From looks alone I could tell at least two of those were true. Not that I could prove any of them. Kevin had not said a word all night. Correction: he has not said a word to me all night. I did hear him thank the hostess, but after that—nothing. At least I knew he wasn't mute.

He was not ignoring me, at least not outright. It was almost an avoidance of sorts. After an hour at the table, Kevin was still lingering over the dinner menu. I, on the other hand, was narrowing my options. Option one: he was incredibly picky of his food. Option two: he was using the menu as a Donna blockade. Two was definitely more plausible. I was well aware that I could be an intimidating person. Mike helped me perfect the talent every day. And considering the fact that every time I tried to peer around the paper fence, Kevin would hunch and give a weird twitch, I'd say he was scared… borderline terrified.

It almost made me chuckle, but I restrained myself. I could at least be civil to the man.

"So Kevin," I began, beaming a friendly smile—not that he could see it, "what did you say you do again?" Say was a bit of a stretch, but I was already grasping at straws.

The hand on the menu twitched slightly. It was a reaction at least. I cleared my throat and tried another approach.

"Kevin?" I questioned lightly and tapped the top of the menu with two fingers.

The entire menu stiffened under my fingers, the material wavering slightly. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"You know," I stated bluntly, "the whole point of a date is to get to know each other… Normally that would involve talking." The last word was exaggerated and sharp, but it did its job.

I watched in concealed awe as the menu was slowly lowered to reveal the face of the complete stranger sitting across from me.

I tried to keep the threat out of my smile.

"S-s-ssorry," he said quietly, voice quaking in a way that almost had me insulted. "I h-haven't done t-this in a while."

"That's ok," I placated, "this is a little new for me too." My eyes met his slowly, trying not to startle him. "Why don't we start easy?" I asked carefully.

Kevin gave a slight nod in response.

Better.

"Why did you start an online profile?" I kept my tone polite and nothing more.

The man twitched again, but he answered solidly this time. "My church group thought it would be a good idea. 'Said I needed to get out more, explore my options…" he trailed off quietly and returned his eyes to the table.

Woo boy. Well that explained some things.

"That's nice," the word sounded wrong even to me, but I kept going and settled for an easier question. "Any hobbies?"

"Tennis," he answered feebly, completely unsure of the statement.

My eyebrows rose on their own accord. What was it with men and goddamn tennis?

"Wh-hat do you d-do?" The stuttered question brought me away from the thought.

"I'm an assistant," I started, "at a law firm," I finished. There was no point in going into details, though Kevin apparently did not need them.

"You work with l-l-lawyers?" His eyes widened and he seemed to unhinge, shaking slightly.

"Yes?" It came out as a question, and an uncertain one at that.

I was used to lawyers having bad reps. There was a natural distaste in the word alone, but Kevin's reaction was near unheard of. Not that it mattered. Little known fact about lawyers: 99% of the "hard-asses" were whiny-ass twits who lived with Momma until they were thirty. Kevin had nothing to worry about. His expression said otherwise.

He had paled, a sickly sheen gracing his skin. I vaguely wondered if he were guilty of something. Ok then, no more l-word.

"Excuse me," he pardoned in quiet haste towards the restroom.

My jaw nearly dropped as I gazed stupidly at the leather of the vacant chair. I did not know what that was, but I did know one thing: I tried.

It was time for Plan B.

I whipped my cell out of my purse and started scrolling through my contacts, all the while keeping an eye out for my hopefully returning date. By this point, me walking out would probably give Kevin a heart attack. I was not a fan of those, and he did not deserve it. The guy was ridiculously quiet and obviously had difficulty handling nerves, but he had been polite and that earned him a few brownie points. If I played my cards right, this would be subtle and painless. And an extreme relief on both sides. I gazed down at my phone.

Norma… No. Anyone connected to Louis was out—why in the world was she even on here?

Jessica… Vetoed. I could not afford to be more in her debt.

Ray… Nope. It was his night off.

Mike… Hmmmm… Mike might actually work.

The kid was quiet, honest, and the definition of gullible and non-threatening. If I could get Mike to call, his voice would carry true and sincere, which was absolutely perfect to play the little brother calling big sis with some mediocre family emergency. The pup could pull off just enough urgency to get me out of this discomfort scotch-free.

My fingers were already flying across the keys in a well-texted SOS, when I realized something. I stopped and cursed. Mike couldn't help me. He had a date with Jenny tonight, which meant there was no way he was going to answer his phone. I slumped back in my chair and my eyes met the ceiling.

Now what?

Well there was one option. Though he'd never let me live it down. I could have sworn he had left the firm with Lisa, Lizzie… whatever her name was. That fact alone was a neon Do Not Disturb sign. My eyes roamed to the restrooms again and I decided I did not have a choice.

Help. DDCI.

I scoffed to myself at Harvey's stupid acronyms, and the fact that I was using one. I hit Send and set the phone down. It vibrated within seconds, nearly sending me out of my seat. That was fast.

You can't be serious.

Leave it to Harvey to question my plea. My reply was simple.

Deadly.

I did not even bother putting the phone down as the message alert came up again.

Kinda busy…

I rolled my eyes at that mental image.

You owe me Harvey.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention as I waited for a reply. Kevin was returning to the table, and I thanked whatever force was causing him to take his dear time getting there as I sent one last text.

It's one phone call. Suck it up.

I hid the phone in my lap as Kevin reclaimed his seat. He tried to smile, but it came off wrong, looking far more deranged than I'm sure he planned. I winced slightly and we returned to a silence even more uncomfortable than the first.

Minutes passed and still my phone did not vibrate. When the food came thirty minutes later, I had all but given up and was beginning to curse a certain closer in every language I knew. I absently twirled my pasta as I tried to think of some other way out of this.

"Donna?" A voice called from somewhere behind my date.

My head snapped up. I knew that voice. What I did not know was what the hell it was doing here. And the accusing tone that accompanied it did not bode well for my present company. So much for avoiding the heart attack.

I caught Harvey striding towards our table in a black button-down and slacks, completely at ease and in control. Of what, I was not quite sure, but as my eyes finally found his, I instantly regretted my call for help. The look that graced his features was one I knew well. I had perfected it myself in the countless times I had put it on for his benefit. The accusation in his voice finally clicked and I held back a groan. He had to pick this one.

"Harvey," I played along, forcing my voice to quake in surprise. My eyes pleaded with him to play nice as he came to a stop near the edge of the table. There was a subtle flash of recognition in return, but no guarantee it would be heeded. As if there ever was a guarantee with him.

Kevin chose that moment to turn slightly and acknowledge the new capture of my attention. His eye quirked slightly and I could tell there was a question. I could also tell there was no way he was asking it.

"What are you doing here?" I inquired innocently to our new company.

"I could ask you the same thing," The lawyer hedged back. "Who's he?" He nodded towards the poor, unsuspecting fool to his right.

Harvey's question had Kevin shifting nervously and I saw the closer's eyes widened ever-so-slightly in response. That was not what he was expecting. I held back a sigh. Oh Kevin. The game was just getting started.

Harvey passed me a look that clearly said: You have got to be kidding, but he collected himself and continued.

"He doesn't look like Emma," the lawyer accused sending an analytical glare in Kevin's direction. "Unless she had a sudden urge to undergo surgery, and in that case," he stopped and cocked his head, feigning shock, "then I'd say job very well done."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, the reaction more true than for theatrics.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for the table to hear. It worked. My date turned back to me, an anxious question lingered on his face. I gave him my best, reassuring smile in return.

It did not help.

"Emma was busy," I started carefully, studiously picking at my plate and ignoring Harvey. "Kevin was kind enough to be a replacement," I finished, looking at the man across from me in gratitude.

Kevin gave a small smile, though seemed uncomfortable with my using his name. He tried to hide it, but failed. His body had gone from squirming to a rigid posture, which was made even more apparent as he robotically reached for his drink.

Perfect.

Harvey saw it too and wasted no time stepping the game up.

"Replacement," the closer hummed in thought. "Interesting… so Kevin," Harvey paused, nodding his head slightly toward the other man, "do you and Donna make this a habit? Or is this your first time out with my wife?"

It was not even a matter of seconds.

Kevin's glass nearly toppled to the floor as he abruptly coughed up his drink. I leaned back instinctively, trying to avoid as much of the spray as I could. I vaguely caught Harvey's smile out of the corner of my eye.

Somewhere through the water and glass, Kevin's eyes met mine. Still gagging and sputtering through the liquid in his throat, he managed to get enough breath to cough out the next line of the script.

"You're married?"

Right on cue.

The exclamation had Kevin's eyes coming out of his sockets and his hands clutching the table for all it was worth. He was breathing heavily now, chest expanding rapidly. It was easy to tell he was horrified. The thought of going out with a "married" woman probably had his little church mind in a tizzy. They sure did not cover this in the scriptures. Good. The guy needed to get out more, live a little, brighten horizons. A little adultery never hurt anyone. At the very least he would have a hell of a story to tell his pew buddies.

I reached across the table and patted his hand comfortingly, "I needed something new," I began. My eyes widened, begging him to understand, "marriage is just so cut and dry," I eyed Harvey pointedly, "and a little date never hurt anyone."

"So it's true?" Kevin's eyes darted between Harvey and I, his complexion paling with each glance. "You are married." He pulled his hand from under mine and sank his head into his hands.

"Eight years next summer," Harvey chimed in. "Or at least it was supposed to," he ground out in my direction. The annoyance was clear.

"Oh my Gosh," Kevin groaned in response, shaking his head back and forth.

I raised my eyebrow at Harvey. Waiting.

The closer got the message, sauntering to my side of the table. He stopped at my chair, one hand on the back and one on the table as he leaned towards me.

"We're leaving," he said in a low order. "Now."

"No," I retorted, continuing the act as I glared back at him. There was movement in my periphial, and I knew Kevin had returned his attention to us. Harvey was aware of it as well.

"I needed some entertainment," I began haughtingly. "I saw no problem in seeking it out elsewhere," I sniffed, eyes shifted to Kevin's and then back to Harvey accusingly.

"You're blaming this on boredom?" Harvey questioned in well-practiced disbelief.

I waited for the next accusation, but it never came. I looked at the lawyer, eyes questioning, but found another answer. His brow furrowed in silent thought before his lips twitched. Smugness radiated off him and a troubling spark hit his eyes.

This could not be good.

"I can fix that," Harvey stated as he leaned in even closer, effectively cutting off my view of the table. We were inches apart now, foreheads nearly touching. The well-practiced act was long forgotten, the script thrown out the window. It was replaced by a new game. A far more dangerous one.

"I doubt it," I whispered, eyes flashing in challenge. My body hummed with electricity, fully aware of just how close Harvey was. I desperately pushed it back, unwilling to give into the taunt. I did not move though. If I moved, the act was over. If I moved, I broke character. And I never broke character.

This was payment for me calling him, this invasion of my personal space. Harvey was pushing all the right buttons and he knew it. I saw the barest hint of a smirk cross his features as his closeness gained another inch. The confidence never left his eyes.

The lurch of the table saved me, breaking the trance. My ears toned with a low clinging sound and I turned to find a glass oscillating on the table, wavering in quake left from the abrupt movement. Harvey eased back slightly and I stared at the now vacant chair across from me. Napkin astray on the plate and money haphazardly strewn across the cloth. Its owner nowhere to be found.

Finally.

My body sagged with such relief that I groaned and let my head fall against Harvey's chest dramatically. "Thank God," I sighed into his shirt.

To say I was glad it was over would be an understatement. The date had been a prison sentence. A very long prison sentence. Boredom had a whole new definition after that experience. And as much as I would like to admit that Kevin did not deserve our blatant play at dishonesty, the statement would be utterly false. It was a bad date. Plain and simple. And if the man did not realize that from the beginning, he completely deserved his fate.

My musing was cut short by the vibrations coming from my headrest. It was then I realized that the closer was trying desperately hard to hold back laugher. And was failing. My head rose and I glared at my chuckling counterpart. Harvey caught my glare and shook his head, the laughter becoming even more pronounced.

WHACK.

My clutch whipped across his chest. He did not even react, if anything it made him laugh harder.

"Oh, shut up," I hissed in exasperation. He was enjoying this far more than he should.

The lawyer did not stop. I sighed and rose from my seat. Grabbing a handful of Harvey's shirt, I all but dragged him out of the restaurant and into the cool night air.

The New York streets sobered him slightly, but I could still feel subtle spasms as he wrapped an arm around my waist and steered us towards 42nd. It wasn't that funny. I glared at his ridiculous expression, crossing my arms in defiance.

"I didn't know your job could be so amusing," Harvey snickered. "Where do you find these guys?"

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"I should have called Mike," I muttered under my breath as we continued down the street.

The laughter stopped.

"Please," Harvey scoffed. "Mike couldn't have pulled that off." He shook his head at the absurdity, "Not even close."

"I don't know Harvey," I paused in mock thought, "the kid's got game."

The lawyer's eyebrows rose, most likely considering my sanity.

"We are talking about the same scrawny associate who can't seem to straighten a tie, let alone pick up women?" He asked incredulously.

"You forget it's the same associate who is currently on a date with his girlfriend, and who also happens to have stolen the heart of every woman in the firm," I reminded.

Harvey laughed outright and eyed me pointedly, "I think you're referring to someone else."

"I believe he's been replaced," I mused and chuckled at the lawyer's resenting glare.

"The kid has nothing on me," he stated coolly.

"Says the man that was spending his night alone with the Yankees," I couldn't resist. I eyed the man to my left, expecting a ridiculous retort involving numerous women and numerous beds, but it never came. Harvey ignored the jab altogether, and I could tell his mind had latched onto another thought.

"And you're included in that list?" He pondered aloud.

I rolled my eyes and smirked at this particular change of topic. "Mike can be quite the charmer," I sighed dramatically, content to milk every bit of this.

Harvey continued, undeterred.

"So if Mike were to come waltzing in, pretending to be your husband, you would have gone with it?" Disbelief colored his tone.

"Absolutely," I smiled smugly. "The kid would have gotten the kiss too."

The closer stopped, and I was forced to follow suit. I turned and caught his look of astonishment and my eyebrows rose on their own accord.

"What?" I mocked. "The great Harvey Specter, afraid of being upped by the puppy?"

There was a moment of silence before his expression changed. Decision lit his face. The mocking turned to apprehension as my gaze met his. My body twinged a warning and the sudden feeling in my gut had me backing away. I stopped after a few feet and eyed the closer warily.

Harvey chuckled darkly at my movement and started to close the distance between us. Our gazes met and the blood slowly drained from my face as he stopped in front of me. I knew that look. This was not the Harvey from the restaurant. This was Harvey Specter—best closer in the city. And he was not playing around anymore.

Shit.

We were not going there. Not tonight. Not again.

I stiffened as he leaned towards me.

"Bullshit," he whispered in my ear and I barely caught the shiver before it could run up my back.

"Green isn't your color Harvey," I warned playfully, trying to return to the joking manner that had started the conversation.

The closer smirked and moved again. My retreat was halted as my back hit brick and I glanced up to find myself backed against a storefront. I cursed my stupidity as Harvey followed my steps easily. He stopped and we were once again inches away from each other.

Damn him.

"I'm going to ignore that assumption," he stated, appalled at the insinuation that he was jealous of his associate—for a hypothetical situation nonetheless.

Raising my eyebrow in challenge, I steeled my resolve and stood taller. He was not winning this.

Harvey obviously thought otherwise as he moved both arms to either side of my head, locking me in place. Any other man would have been on the ground suffering from a very particular bruise. But Harvey was never any other man.

"You'd have me believe," he reasoned, "that Mike could stand as your husband, let alone kiss you, and you would go with it… just to get out of a date." He hedged.

I rolled my eyes at the accusation, trying to remain nonchalant. But Harvey had the advantage, and he knew it.

There were very few things that Harvey Specter could do to rattle me. Crossing the line was one of them, and the current lack of personal space had us dangerously to doing just that. In fourteen years I could count on one hand the instances in which Harvey had tested boundaries. Carefully pushing the line until we were both teetering precariously on the edge. And tonight I had foolishly backed myself into another. I could not expect the closer to ignore it.

"You're underestimating the lousiness of said date," I ground out, all too aware of the charging closeness. I silently cursed Mike and his ability to screw us over, even when he was not present. It was an irritatingly unique gift. Or curse.

Harvey smiled knowingly.

"The kid wouldn't have the balls to kiss you," he said. "Even if he did," he continued, "you wouldn't let him get away with it."

"And I'd let you get away with it?" I laughed the question. "You're overestimating my leniency Harvey."

"Are you sure about that?" The closer challenged, glancing to either side of us pointedly. The laugh died in my throat. Our current positions were not helping that particular argument.

"Try me," I warned stubbornly. I vaguely considered screaming in well-conceived panic.

"It wouldn't work," Harvey smirked, seeing right through me. "We're in New York," he reminded softly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but the smugness had drifted from his tone, leaving another emotion in its wake.

I looked at him then, really looked at him. Beneath the challenge, there was something else. Something we both had been desperately avoiding for years. My mind reeled, but I did not move. Neither of us moved.

This was why we did not get close. Did not let our friendship veer out of control. We could not afford the other option, the other feeling. The one that would crush everything we had worked so hard to create. You can never go back. And as much as I wanted my eyes to convey every syllable of that thought to his, I knew they weren't. They were saying the exact same thing his were. The spark that had always lingered between us was starting to break free. Our battling emotions carved the way. And there was no stopping it.

Our bodies seemed to instinctively lean closer. That one movement, that one subtle inch changed everything.

And the line blurred.

I felt it then, the feeling that I had squandered at the restaurant. The one I had warned Harvey about all those years ago. But this time, there was no warning, no hesitation. This time I let it in. It was not pretend anymore. The full awareness came over me, mentally and physically. I focused on the proximity, the heat, and the essence that was Harvey. The energy pulsed, demanding and impossible to ignore. His eyes flashed the question as he inclined his head towards mine. My eyes closed as I felt him close the distance, foreheads touching and lips lingering dangerously close.

I stopped breathing.

..

.