ANGLES - CHAPTER 3

The wide doors of the Church opened; and there she was.

She was stunning and he'd completely forgotten.

In head to toe ivory and blue; her dress was a very modest meringue covered in blue and white beads. Her brown hair was curled and hung over one shoulder. A blue train followed her; her something blue very evident; everyone gasped. Her father was tremendously proud walking her gently down the aisle.

It was so easy to fall for Alex; it hadn't taken him that long to realise he could be very happy with her.

She flashed a cheeky grin at him; her blue eyes sparkling, gradually composing herself as they met at the front.

It was so hard to look at this woman and feel any doubt.

Unless he looked at Donna.

This was it.

As Scottie had once called it:

The plunge.

It felt like a Horror movie; waiting to see if the murderer really was the person you guessed in the first act. As Donna had barely made it in front of the bride; seeing Alex slowly getting out of the wedding car; she'd pretty much dragged Greg through the doors. There was no way in god's green hell she was walking down the aisle with Harvey's Fiancé. That would be all kinds of screwed up.

Harvey looked dashing as always; the sudden image of him pressing her up against the vanity desk flashed into her head again; his hands flat against her hip; the steely look in his eye. She winced and looked away; finding solace in the beautiful coloured glass of the church windows. She had a faint idea that this would be like ripping a band-aid off a wound very slowly; each little rip pulling at the hairs on her skin. There was no quick-rip for this.

She was glad he was getting married.

He looked happy.

That may count for enough.

He was fine until the 'do you take' part.

His mother was watching him; his father was dead and the woman/assistant/friend he'd just screwed was looking at him. And then there was his fiancé.

The Priest had only just finished asking him the important question. It stretched out for a mile.

What would happen to her?

Would she ever get married?

Would she find someone; was the guy sat right by her 'the one'?

Or would she die alone…like his Dad.

He'd never been worried for Donna before.

He looked at Alex; her almond blue eyes staring out at him.

If he so much as paused more than a few seconds, she'd stand up and shout at him. It would surely be better than the condemnable silence in front of New York's finest and half the justice department. Donna held back a squirm.

It was a small pause, but it felt like a mile; a verdict to a murder case. The room felt that constricting.

What if she was pregnant? Her? Alex?

The errant thought flashed in neon lights to the front of her head.

"I do." He said slowly.

She exhaled a breath.

Finally.

They were out of the woods.

He hadn't had a mint since this morning and he hoped to god that Alex wouldn't notice any difference when he kissed her in front of the congregation. She smiled back at him as the Priest pronounced them 'Man and Wife'. The kiss was brief, fitting for the occasion. There wre still flashes of Donna on the edges of his mind.

And yet. he found himself smiling a little at the finality of it all. And as he took Alex's hand and exited the church he didn't once look at Donna.

He daren't.

This day would change things; irreparable things.

A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal
~ 'No Surprises' By Radiohead

Harvey's or Alex's or the Planner's dinner seat planning was a pain in the ass.

Out of the numerous tables, Jessica was sitting with the other managing Partners; Harvey and Alex were sat with her parents, her sister, Harvey's brother and family and his Mother. And she had Greg, Rachel, Mike, Louis and his date, none other than Sheila Sazs.

It was like going to your parent's house for thanksgiving and trying to avoid them asking you what you were going to do with your life.

She could almost feel the pressure of unanswered questions surrounding her. She had the sudden urge for a drink; but she daren't get drunk. It would no doubt lead to all sorts of trouble and people would start to suspect that she wasn't dealing with everything quite so we'll as she was putting on.

"I'm on call tonight." Greg suddenly blurted out.

"Oh. Why didn't you say before?" She asked.

"Well, I only got a message through an hour ago."

"Well, If you have to go you have to go. It's not like I'm a stranger here. Hell, there are so many people from Pearson Specter that it's like a work week."

"How does it feel to have your boss finally get married?"

There it was. The unanswered question that none of her friends were stupid enough to ask...

The Answer: Gutting; a mixture of dread and relief; morbidly life altering?

"Well. It's good he's putting up roots, I guess. We're not any younger!" She joked.

She turned to see Greg's slight look of horror.

"No, I wasn't inferring that I wanted to get married. Not any time soon." She said, voice a little panicked, before glaring at Rachel and Mike's humoured looks.

"Okay," He chuckled, his tone lightening.

The conversation was clearly reaching a low point; she could feel everyone analysing her during dinner. Not even the exquisite food could make up for this day. These people were her friends and yet this wedding had never made her feel more alienated.

When Harvey and Alex were introduced for their first dance as Man and Wife and Greg went to the bathroom eyes really were all on her.

She cursed Greg in her head.

They were such an attractive couple; him spinning her gently to the dulcet tones of the Jazz band playing in the corner of the hall. She could feign ignorance if it weren't for the fact that there was this horrible pit in her stomach.

And, they looked genuinely happy.

She heard Rachel's voice in her ear. "Hey, you okay?" She whispered.

"I'm fine. The Jazz band are amazing."

"Yeah, they are." "You sure?" She asked, eyes considerate.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" She gave her a convincing if not slightly wild smile. It wasn't her best lie, but it would have to do.

After she'd convinced Greg that his leaving early to deal with a client's child who possibly had the flu wouldn't put her in a difficult position she was confronted with the hard fact of actually being alone. Rachel and Mike were dancing; seemingly moving into an intimate place of their own, Jessica was mingling and Louis as per usual was busy trying and failing at networking rather than actually enjoying himself with Sheila in tow.

She'd barely seen Harvey or his blushing bride since their first dance of the evening. She tried to not let it get to her; that little scratch of annoyance that played precariously within her gut; that tell-tale sign that she was perhaps not quite as fine with everything as she'd played to Harvey. Thankfully he had done what she'd asked; he was married, off the market and now none of her concern. It was high time someone else looked after him for a change; a pass-over was well overdue.

She hadn't noticed she'd ordered a Scotch until the liquid amber courage was placed on the table in front of her, the ice cubes swilling in the double measure.

For a moment she sat, transfixed by the bob and flow of the fluid in its reflective casing; dreamy and warm and aglow in the slowly dimming light of the early evening.

Only then did it choose to dawn on her.

What had they done?

She wasn't this person; the flippant single woman quietly ruining marriages before they started. She wasn't the assistant that screwed her Boss. She wasn't the weak woman who got easily drawn to the flame of an over-achieving would-be eternal Bachelor.

And yet she had done all of those things.

The alcohol wasn't even in her veins enough and yet it was offering up a sobering truth.

A wave of helplessness swept her from the inside.

"Hey Donna," A familiar voice chimed, almost too familiar considering her day.

"Markus," She smiled, her brown eyes following the familiar blues as he sat opposite her.

"I never got the chance to say 'Hi' earlier," He said,

"I know. How are you? I saw Julie…" She smiled at having her attention turned.

"I'm good… she took the girls out to the gardens, giving me just enough time to breathe."

"I'll bet." She laughed.

"So…Harvey getting married?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm not going to lie, when he called me and said to come to a wedding I did wonder,"

"Wonder?" She asked.

"Wonder…who exactly my brother was marrying…" He said; the seriousness of his tone making her a little uneasy.

"Really? This is the first time you've met Alex?"

"He's a Jackass. What can I say…" Markus shurgged.

She laughed quietly at the admission. Markus was always a much lighter version of Harvey; lighter hair, lighter eyes lighter spirited. That also had come with getting into trouble much more than ever Harvey did. Harvey was the overachieving over-serious brother. They were practically chalk and cheese but somehow over the years Donna had found a commonplace with both of them.

"Your father would be proud." She said, the memory of Gordon Specter warming her.

"On the contrary, I think Dad would have been disappointed." He countered.

Her brow furrowed. "You really think that?" She asked, confused suddenly.

"Of course; if he'd have seen anyone but you up there in the white dress he'd have read Harvey the riot act."

"Markus," She shrugged he comment off and the way it weighed heavily on her mind.

"He adored you,"

"I was very fond of him. He knew that."

She couldn't really tell who they were talking about anymore. He could see that she was visibly retreating.

"Well, if it makes any difference; you will always be my first real sister-in-law." He said, nudging her shoulder.

"Don't say that to your brother," She smiled as he leant in to kiss her cheek, quietly making his way out of the large hall.

She returned to staring back at her Scotch.

"Doth mine eye deceive me; you are alone on this fine evening, Madame?" A smooth, lingering, if not slightly creepy voice fell on her. Any other day and her current mood would have been enough to turn her less than friendly streak towards anyone; however his appearance warmed her and the cold echo in her head. Her eyes peeled up towards an outstretched hand and an eager looking Louis.

"May I have this dance, My lady?" He asked, a warm cat-like grin on his face as she quietly accepted help lifting her to her feet.

The Jazz band quietly played in the background, something akin to Chet Baker; its smooth lulling sense of warm notes and familiar rhythm lost in her head.

Trust Harvey to exude 50's glamour in a reception that he hadn't even planned.

"Are you okay?" Louis said, his very quiet question barely audible over the music.

"Me? Of course." She shook off the considerate look he was giving her.

"You and Harvey haven't talked much tonight."

"That's because it's his wedding, Louis. He's one of two guests of honour. That's a busy night." She said, making a valid excuse.

"But you're his right hand; the Bonnie to his Clyde, the Cleopatra to his Anthony. What will he do without you?" he asked; as if the answer was crystal.

"Why do all of those examples include suicide?" She asked, frowning out to the side, where her eyes caught Mike and Rachel's silent questioning of her, to which she smiled dimly.

"Dear sweet Maiden, you know to what I am referring," Louis rolled his eyes, gently spinning her to the lingering music.

"I'm just his assistant, Louis. Just drop it." She said in a hushed tone, but still a little harsher than she'd intended it to sound.

"I'm sorry." He said, eyes looking down like a told off puppy.

She softened then.

"...Don't be."

"I really am... Sorry. Donna...you deserve everything."

"We both do, Louis."

She squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

"May I cut in?"

The voice caused her to full body blush. Her eyes narrowed until she caught Louis analysing the two of them.

"Be my guest." Louis bowed out graciously. How she wished he hadn't...

Her fingers felt numb as Harvey closed in and took her hand; cautiously pulling them closer together as she laid her other hand on his shoulder. Inside her head she was screaming. She couldn't help it. It was embarrassing; like they had a speech bubble above them like those silly Sims computer games her neice played; one with a number of character expletives and the other with a red hot face of shame. Luckily the band started to play something slightly less melancholy which lifted the mood.

"Where's Alex?" She tried to sound casual. It didn't work.

"Changing out of her dress."

"Shouldn't you be…helping her?" She asked with a cock of the eyebrow. Donna couldn't help herself.

"She said she was fine." He replied, coolly, eyes lingering onto the dance floor for a moment, before returning to hers.

"So…you're married." She stated.

"Yeah. I am. Thanks to you." He said.

She couldn't tell whether he was noting or accusing her with the statement, but the way he changed his hold of her felt all too much like regret.

"Harvey," She sounded like him; the darkness of warning in her voice. The hand on his shoulder flattened, fingers playing with the jacket seams that ran under them as they swayed to a rendition of 'La Mer'. She had barely touched a drop of alcohol and yet her head was swimming. Her face, just inches from his reminded her of earlier, it was now far too intimate a position for them to be in; she could see the way his mouth curled up on one side; the sharp lines of his haircut. If she turned her head she could just about kiss his jaw; and if they turned at the same time… she'd likely end up fucking him on the dance floor in front of his bride, family, their friends and the entire senior staff of Pearson Specter. Just because she could. What made it worse was that he wouldn't so much as bat an eyelid to the public display. She could see that truth in his eyes. Harvey wasn't a cheater, this was something slowly burning between them; they were both aware of it. Her eyes flickered to his and he tightened his grip on her.

They were circling dangerous territory; dancing on the lava, on the precipice without as much as a safety net. She could see it in his eyes when she finally let herself really look at them. This hard, onyx coloured resolution; he was blaming her for this; for their situation; all of it. He couldn't bear to ever make a move or chart their course and yet the one time he did she was the one to shut it down, regardless of the timing. She knew it.

He knew it.

This was Stalemate.

She did the only thing that she knew as the music slowed. She stepped out of his grasp gently, as not to make a show, and smiled something convincing.

"Go find Alex." She said.

"Where are you going?" He asked; voice low.

"To get some air."