This is a small update because I've been really busy with school and this is just stuff that has been written over the past few months. It's an early Christmas present and I will be trying to write more. Please review to let me know how you feel. I really need encouragement after all this time.
He feels like he's on a date that's about 15 years overdue. His nervous tick is a tell all sign, at least for her it is, so he knows that he really needs to get his nerves under control before he knocks on her door. He's pretty sure that he looks damn good, good enough that he could rival James Bond in the best dressed category, but even looking good wouldn't help him recover from this level of embarrassment. He had spent the better part of his not quite busy enough Saturday reminding himself that it's just Donna, but even his subconscious was laughing at him in a repetitious echo that sounded more like It's Just Donna; the mockery was ever present.
Harvey just didn't know how to handle that. In fact, even when he looked at Theo it reminded him of the 7 year old at his front door that showed up unexpectedly. He had felt like he was in his own version of Big Daddy and he really just wanted to press pause, or stop entirely. In no time the two of them had figured it out but not without a little help. He certainly owed Donna more than thanks for everything she's ever done to help him. He owes her his left nut, and he knows for a fact that is the most expensive one on the black market so that's saying a hell of a lot.
Harvey had begrudgingly left Theo in the care of Mike Ross, not that Theo needed a babysitter. The two of them had high-fived and called it a Guy's Night which makes Harvey's skin crawl. He really hopes that Theo has more friends than just Mike; after all, Mike is a little old to be hanging out with teenagers. Talk about inappropriate, but for some reason the two get along in a way that Harvey remembers getting along with his own brother and since he knows that isn't ever going to be something Theo has he continues to allow it.
Yes, good, Harvey thinks, a distraction.
With his mind roaming to whatever kind of shit his son and his associate could potentially get into, Harvey raises a closed fist to the door and raps his knuckles against the hollow material. He reminds himself to breathe as he ticks away the seconds (he counts to 17) it takes for the door to swing open. A 5 foot, 5 inch tall Chelsea opens the door and he's suddenly reminded of all the years he's watched her grow, how she's changed and formed into someone who resembles her mother. She's always looked a lot like Donna but she's never looked so much like her that it's so unmistakable.
"Harvey," Chelsea says, "hey. Mom's not ready yet."
"It starts in half an hour, how is she not ready yet?" He asks with a light shake of the head.
Chelsea shrugs as she takes a step back in a way of inviting him in, "she hasn't had a date in a while."
"She called this a date?" He replies, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Chelsea laughs like she can't contain it. His eyebrow jumps up on his forehead in response because he hadn't been expecting that reaction. He absently licks his lips and his eyebrows furrow in confusion, gaze scrutinizing her like she's just a kid that he's never met before. When did she get so sassy?
"I'm calling this a date," Chelsea finally says, "I'm pretty sure that if she knew I was calling it a date I'd be grounded until I graduated."
Harvey's ego deflates to next to nothing at the realization that Donna would be so much against going out on a date with him that she would be absolutely livid. He really missed his chance years ago - missed out on the chance to be with the only woman who had never left his side, missed out on his only sense of comfort and possibly the only love he's ever truly felt. His father always told him that when you procrastinate you're making a mistake and this was the biggest one he could ever make.
He forces a small laugh, "oh yeah? She finds me that appalling?"
He doesn't miss the way Chelsea freezes, like she's caught between a rock and a hard place of having to choose between a loyalty to her mother and the truth; she looks at him with apology etched across her face, "I think we both know the answer to that."
"Do we?"
His fingers slide over the back of the couch, the threads cold and hard beneath his touch, and he wonders what it would have been like if they had been a family. Would the four of them be happy together? Would Theo and Chelsea still get along like they do now? Would he and Donna be happy together? Would Chelsea call him dad? Would Theo call Donna mom? Would their kids tell them everything or would they have these little secrets that they'd blackmail each other with?
Would they care if that's what they wanted to be now?
Harvey lifts his gaze to Chelsea in wait of her reply. When she opens her mouth to speak it isn't her voice that comes out. From down the hallway he hears, "Harvey, hi, sorry I'm running late."
"Hey," he says softly, eyes catching sight of her and fully drinking her in. He was not prepared to see her dress, the way it reveals her shoulders and shows her milky white skin; he can't form words in his head and thinks if he really has to say anything it'll come out jumbled. "You look..."
He trails off too terrified to complete his sentence. He swallows and finally forms something but even that isn't a complete sentence: "that dress."
"You bought it," she informs him.
"I have some great taste," he counters with a grin.
He finds that she is distracting but there isn't anyone who can keep his head straight like her. It's just comfortable, familiar, and he trusts her with his everything to a point that he doesn't even manage his thoughts around her. He trusts her to guide him, trusts her to not lead him astray. He doesn't know of anyone else he could trust like that.
"Are you ready?" She asks. He gives her an affirmative nod. She looks at Chelsea pointedly, "try to be productive while I'm gone."
Mike's laugh echoes off of the walls of the apartment as Theo's socks slide across the wood floor and he slams to the ground. There's a sharp pain that shoots through Theo's elbow before he bursts into laughter, unable to keep the fit of giggles away despite the temporary pain. This was a horrible idea, Theo concludes, but it's really, really fun.
Theo doesn't do things like this when his dad is home. It isn't that he would get into big trouble, it's just that Harvey would go on and on about his real wood floors and how they need to be polished now. On second thought, his dad will notice that they've been sliding across the floor Risky Business style and will probably ban Mike from the apartment for a very long time.
Theo swallows thickly, "we should go to a movie."
"Sure thing, man, just say when," Mike replies.
"No, I mean, right now," Theo corrects, "we can invite Rachel and Chelsea."
"They'll want to see some chick flick," Mike protests with a shake of his head, "Rachel's been talking about this really sappy looking one with some guy she raves is just soooooo handsome."
"Are you jealous? Of a guy she'll never meet?" Theo clarifies.
Mike looks at him deadpanned, "don't say it like that. When you say it like that it makes the whole idea sound extremely ridiculous."
"It is extremely ridiculous," Theo counters with a laugh, "if it makes you feel any better, I have a really stupid idea, too."
"Oh yeah?" Mike asks, intrigue piqued, "do tell."
"Chelsea and I are trying to set our parents up," he admits.
Mike immediately laughs like he can't contain it, and Theo really thinks that he can't. The idea was ridiculous and he isn't usually one for meddling, but the fact is that he really likes Donna. She's the only mother he's had in his life for almost 8 years and he couldn't imagine anyone else filling the position.
Mike stops laughing slowly, the noise fading into the hollows of the room, "what are you thinking, Kid? That's never going to work."
"Why do you say that?" Theo looks offended.
Mike laughs, shakes his head, "Rachel and I tried to hook them up three years ago and it didn't work then. It won't work now."
"This is different," Theo reasons.
"No it isn't."
"It is, too."
Mike makes a face of disbelief, "how is it different?"
"Because he actually likes me," Theo says with a smirk; Mike shakes his head in return.
Harvey watches her laugh. Her neck elongates and the hollow of her throat bounces in a way that makes her categorically stunning. He thinks that if he were to look up the word beautiful in the dictionary right now that he'd just find a picture of her. He supposes that he's always been particularly entranced when she's in a room and hasn't been very good at keeping it discreet. He should probably try harder to keep it under wraps.
He grabs a champagne flute from a tray passing by and heads in her direction. He wonders how he feels about her, if he allowed himself to think about it; would she be the person that he could see himself with? He knows the answer to that question without even having to ask her.
Why would she ever want to be with him? She's too good for him. She's always been too good for him. The day Theo landed on his doorstep was the closest to a redeeming quality that he'd ever gotten. He knows that Theo's appearance made him rely on Donna in a way that she really didn't have time for, that really wasn't her job, but he couldn't trust anyone else. Maybe he's never been able to trust anyone else.
An annoyance rises into the pits of his stomach when he sees a man with strong and confident fingertips slide them up the back of her arm. This is where he always manages to lose his shit. He's been in love with her for a very long time but they can't be together - it's complicated. It's complicated. It's very complicated.
His gaze narrows at the man, telepathically warning him by staking his claim over the woman who has been by his side for as long as he can remember. Of course her demeanor never changes. Her eyelashes don't bat at the man a bit more than usual, and her smile isn't any more suggestive than when she sends Mike into his office with a motion of her thumb. She doesn't light up when she nods along politely and she's in her element - so smart and pretty and taking control in that way she's perfected with him.
Her gaze shifts in his direction and he steels himself. He'll be a deer caught in headlights with the scowl on his face and the flare of his nostrils. She'll know everything he's never said out loud, everything that she probably already knows but has never been forced to acknowledge. She will be forced to acknowledge it; all bets will be off.
Harvey doesn't know he feels about that, not yet. He doesn't know how to approach the matter of what if he and Donna aren't doing the dance anymore. He doesn't know how to handle that there might not be a question of if, but the question will become when? He fears that she will leave him - that she will walk away. He hates himself for believing that she will always be there.
Her eyes light up when their gazes meet. He notices. He notices that when she looks at him, her eyes shine a little brighter and her smile is a little more genuine. He wants to kiss her mouth. He wants to taste the balm on her lips and the residue from the alcohol on her tongue. He's drawn to her in a way that he has been so many time before but he's been unable to act on it. He wants to act on it.
She arches an eyebrow, tilts her chin downward in a silent effort to beckon him over. For a moment, he pretends that she can't stand the distance between them - pretends that she just wants him nearer. He's been pretending for so long that he isn't in love with her that it might actually be nice to pretend that there is something between them. He returns her look, arched eyebrow and tilted chin, before grinning and taking a drink from his champagne flute.
He crosses the room with a bit more arrogance, her eyes rolling at him even though the pull upward at the corners of her mouth betray her.
The back of his hand brushes her bare arm and she turns her head to face him, "there you are."
"Here I am," he mimics her. She takes the other glass of champagne from him and takes a drink. He smirks before she follows. "Making friends?"
"Somebody has to make you look good," she counters.
"You always do," he absently agrees.
They are both halfway beyond drunk and the heat radiating off of her skin warms him to his very core.