This chapter only is probably an "M" rating. If you're not keen on raunchiness, scroll through to the end! For those who like the sexy bits … I hope you enjoy! Wink, wink … ;)

X X X

TEN MINUTES TOO LATE

CHAPTER THREE

The Second Time

"FOUR WEEKS AGO"

Her heart skipped a beat when she felt his fingers slide against hers.

She could tell from the tilt of his head, the spark in his eyes and the way he was holding his gaze at her reflection. But most of all she could tell from his tone of his voice. Something had changed in him.

"No".

Just one word. A hundred layers of meanings locked inside it.

They stood there for a few minutes, neither one of them knowing what to say, but both of them using sight and touch to convey more than sound ever could: their reflections in the window, the feel of each other's warm skin and the strength of their hold.

He breaks away first and she still doesn't know what to say. Why is that? She's frustrated. She always knows what to say.

"So, I guess this is a new beginning," he says with a smile as he walks to his cabinet and pours them both a drink of scotch.

Still a little bit in shock, Donna turns around and rests against the window ledge. "Yeah, that's exactly what it is," she replies breathily, her heartrate slowing.

He walks towards her and hands her the drink. She raises her arm to take it, but when the glass is in her hand, he is still holding it tight. She laughs, but he doesn't. His eyes lock onto her eyes as his fingers wrap around hers, gently caressing her knuckles and she feels as if her heart might explode.

"Harvey, what's happening here?" she asks, raising her chin and meeting his gaze.

His smile grows wider. "New beginnings … I think."

"Harvey …" she's starting to feel self-conscious now. Uncomfortable. Her stomach groans and she feels a familiar pang of anxiety rise into her chest. If this continues he's going to shit the bed and run away. She'll get mad, she'll get frustrated, they'll fight, she'll leave him for Louis or worse.

"I don't know what I'm doing, but I know this feels right," he says as his gaze intensifies.

"Harvey," she repeats again. Her voice more forthright. "Why now?"

He leaves go of her and the glass, his cheeks dimpling as the last remnants of his smile fade. She watches him turn away from her and take a seat on his sofa. She doesn't hesitate to join him, tucking her black floral dress underneath her as she sits down. His eyes are trained on his glass as he swirls the pungent amber liquid around it. She reaches out and places her hand on his, making him stop. "Harvey, talk to me," she asks – her plea making him draw in a breath.

"It's been a hell of a few months," he says without looking up from his drink. He takes a sip and she notices there's a slight tremble to his wrist as he places the glass down on the coffee table in front of him.

"It has," she replies briefly. She makes it brief because he knows that's not what she wants him to talk to her about.

"I've been pretty wound-up you know. What with Mike's trial and him going to prison, then all that stuff with Gallo and Cahill and … now this. One thing after another, but no matter how bad things get for me I know you'll always be there."

He turns to look at her then, his eyes looking at her 'differently'. She remembers an echo: 'With you it's different.' And it's like a ghost from that night – almost a year ago – haunting the scene. She feels a shiver down her spine. "Yes Harvey, that's my job."

"Being my secretary is your job, Donna, but you've never been just that."

"No. That's because I'm not like every other secretary, I'm …"

"You're Donna," he says finishing her sentence for her. She smiles, but he doesn't this time. "And I want you to know that you're everything to me."

Words fail her again. She stares blankly at him waiting … wondering …

Harvey takes another gulp of scotch. "It's late. Maybe we should be getting home."

She sighs and looks out over the city skyline view through the window, shaking her head because she can't believe she's here again. In exactly the same position as before. Nothing ever changes and she's tired of it. She turns back to him, her blood pressure building and her jaw tense. "Harvey, you're not going anywhere. You're going to sit right there with a goddamn scotch if you need it, but we're having this conversation and we're having it now."

His face pales. "Okay …" he says nervously.

"Okay," she says defiantly. "Let's start with what happened a year ago. Do you need me to ask you the same question again? Love me how?"

He gulps. "Shit."

"Shit?"

"Sorry … it's just … way to get straight to the point."

"Saves time. As you said, it's late."

The corners of his mouth turn up, dimpling his cheeks slightly. "When I told you I loved you I meant it, but … I hadn't planned to say it."

"That was obvious."

"But it doesn't make what I said any less true. I do love you Donna … you're … you're my best friend, the one person in my life who truly gets me and doesn't want to change me … and … I was scared then and I'm scared now …"

Donna's body stiffens. She knew fear was what he was running from but hearing him admit it is something else. "What are you scared of?"

He looks into her eyes, his brow slightly furrowed. "Of letting you down."

She feels his intensity burn her skin and she takes another sip of scotch. "You did let me down, Harvey. You wouldn't talk to me. You closed the book and threw on a padlock. And now … you're doing it again. What's going to happen tomorrow, Harvey? Say we both finish our drinks and go home, what's going to happen when I come into your office and ask you why you reached out to me? Why did you hold my hand, Harvey? Why are you doing this again?"

"Because I love you!" he shouts suddenly and she falls back startled. "I … look … you know I've had therapy. I know why I do this … and I know why I ran all those months ago. It's hard, but I can get there … if you help me."

She sits forward, resting her arms on her knees. Thinking. Blocking out the pain – the heartache – the frustration and trying her level best to understand him. "What do you want, Harvey?" She asks the question and her body freezes … waiting … if he runs, that has to be it. She can't go back, she won't …

"I want to be with you." His voice is low, almost a mumble, but his determination is unmistakeable. "I want there to be an 'us' and if you want to try too, then we should … uhm … do it, I guess … I mean, just try," he winces as his words jumble. "God, Donna I'm being honest here, and it may not look like it given the crap that's coming out of my mouth, but … I'm trying to tell you I love you and I want to be with you, but I don't know if that's going to be good enough for you … or for me. I've never done this before."

She raises her eyebrows. "You've never come onto a woman before?" she says sarcastically, her voice laced with humour.

He gulps and looks back to the scotch. Swirling again, every lap of the glass beating in rhythm with her heart. "No, I've never been in love before."

It's as if the earth stops for a moment and she's pleased because if it hadn't, she might have spun off into orbit. "What …?" she says in a gasp, her hand instinctively falling to her chest. He looks at her with panic flashing in his eyes and she thinks all that's missing is a siren and a robotic voice in the background calling, 'abort mission, abort mission.'

He puts down his glass and reaches for her hand. She knows she's shaking and she feels awkward because of that, but when he holds her tightly, giving her a gentle and reassuring squeeze, she feels herself melt into him. "It's only ever been you, Donna. You're the only person I've ever felt this way about. You asked me, that time, if I was capable of seeing you in a different way. Truth is I always saw you in a different way, I just didn't want to admit it to myself because I never felt like I should … I thought I'd screw it up – lose you – don't you see? For all those years I'd rather have you through that glass wall, at your desk, metres away from me as my best friend, than try to have a relationship with you and run the risk of losing you forever."

"Because you can never go back."

"What?"

"Hmm? … Oh, it's just something I said once. When somebody asked me why you and I had never … uhm … you know?"

"But we did 'you know'."

"Yes, I lied, but that's not the point. I said the reason we never tried to have a relationship was because you can never go back. Once we cross the line … Harvey, listen to me …" She grips his hands in hers, covering them protectively. "If we cross the line, we can't ever go back to the way things were before."

"I know that."

"I'm not sure you do, Harvey. Not really. I remember what you said to me just before I left you to go work for Louis: 'We have everything.' That told me you're pretty happy with our relationship the way it is."

He shakes his head emphatically. "No, no. That was before. I've just explained … that was when I was afraid. Before I'd sorted it out in my head. Before therapy."

She knows him too well. Harvey Specter can be impulsive, but not this impulsive. She lets go of his hands to stand up. He rises to meet her, his face etched with concern. "Take some time to think, Harvey. Tonight – with Jessica leaving – well, it's been a shock to the system."

"I've had twelve goddamn years to think about this," he says with a snap in his voiceF.

She tilts her head to the side, her eyes wide and admonishing. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harvey."

He watches her go and he wonders what he did wrong.

He wonders all night.

Then the next morning when she walks onto the floor, as she always does, and brings him his coffee, as she always does, he's sitting at his desk. She's wondering if there'll be a back-track. She wonders if her plea that he takes some time to think will have flung him headlong into a whirling cyclone of despair and regret.

She acts like normal, running through his calendar, talking about the Hobart meeting she's rearranged for Thursday. He doesn't take his eyes off her and she feels them travel across her face, settling on her lips. She feels uneasy – like she should talk about last night – but she doesn't. She makes small talk, comments about him needing to talk to Louis about the new set-up of the firm. Then she smiles and turns around to head to her cubicle.

"Donna," he calls after her.

She spins around, her stomach fluttering with butterflies. "Yes, Harvey."

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

"Uhm … like a date?"

"Yeah, of course, a date."

"You mean a date-date, not a friend-date, or a work-date?"

He grins. "I mean a date with a guy who wants to show you how much he loves you."

Her mouth transforms into a grin she can't suppress. "Okay Harvey. You can take me out."

X X X

That night he takes her to one of his favourite bistros on the Upper East Side. He orders a steak, medium rare, and she orders a strange, creamy chicken dish that she eats from underneath the thick sauce.

"Sorry about your dinner," he says with his cheek full of steak.

"It's fine," she lies and takes a large sip of wine, running her tongue around the inside of her mouth to wash away the taste of the eggy-cheese sauce.

"You should send it back."

"Harvey," she says with a smile as she reaches over her plate and steals one of his fries. "I said it's fine."

After dinner they have drinks in the restaurant bar, taking a seat in a corner under a fake tree lit with fairy lights and glittery butterflies. She finds that appropriate given the state of her stomach.

"So, here's to our first date-date," says Harvey as he raises his glass and clinks it against hers. She takes a drink and then clears her throat, her eyes darting nervously across the room. "You okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I'm … uhm … well this is all a bit strange I guess."

"I'm sorry, maybe I should have cooked for you at my place instead."

She leans forward with a glint in her eye. "That wouldn't have been any less strange."

He laughs back. "No, I guess it wouldn't."

An awkward silence takes hold of both of them for a few moments. Words – unsaid – hanging in the air around them like a thundercloud. She wonders if she should make it rain. "Well, Harvey. It's been a lovely night, but it's getting late. We should do it again …"

"Come back to my place."

"What?!"

"I don't mean like that. Well … not unless … shit …" he pokes his tongue in his cheek and sub-consciously kicks his own ass. "Look, I just mean I don't want you to go yet."

"Harvey," she says with caution, but the slight shake in her voice betrays her true feelings. She changes tack. She nudges closer to him on the plush black seat and rests her hand on his knee, feeling the heat of his body immediately. "It's been a lovely night, thank you."

He doesn't miss the beat. His hands swoop to push a few strands of hair from her face. She turns her cheek nudging his thumb. "I love you," he says again and it feels like it's the hundredth time he's said it now.

But for her, it may as well be the first as her body pricks with goosebumps. "I love you too," she says as she allows herself to fall into him, her hands moving over his body, sinking underneath his jacket as she raises her chin to his.

And he meets her with his mouth. Kissing softly at first, his skin brushing lightly over hers. He tastes of scotch with a hint of steak, but she wants more. She parts her lips eagerly as she feels his hands moving through her hair, pulling her closer until she can't stand it anymore and she sinks her tongue into his mouth, tasting and exploring him. He meets her ravenous kisses with more of his own, moving from her mouth to her neck and then back to that spot under her ear which – somehow – after all of these years he recalls sends her wild.

"Oh … god … Harvey," she moans in raspy pants as his body presses against hers, one of his hands holding her back while the other slips into her hair, twisting a copper lock from behind her ear around his fingers.

"I love your hair," he says as his hand gets lost in gold. His other hand moves forward to her hip, then rests on her thigh, his fingers groping at the material of her dress. "We should go," he pants in her ear.

"We should," she agrees as she throws her head back giving him full access to her neck.

"We … should … go … now," he says between kisses.

"Uh-hum …" she moans softly into his mouth as their lips meet again.

He starts to laugh. "I mean … we should go … to my place … now."

"I know," she replies.

He breaks off. "You sure?"

Her lips curl. "I'm sure."

X X X

The short taxi ride to Harvey's penthouse apartment is pure torture as they both sit as far apart as possible wondering what the hell they're doing, but thinking about nothing but sex. As they get near to his place she feels his hand grab for hers and his touch sends a raging pulse shooting down to her vulva, settling in a dull throb. He kisses her when they're out of the cab. He kisses her when he opens the door, saying 'hi' briefly to the security guy who grins back at both of them with a look that says 'finally'.

As soon as the elevator doors close he turns and claims her, pushing her against the metal walls, taking her mouth and running his hands hungrily up her legs. She starts to undo the buttons on his shirt, eager to feel his skin. He groans into her mouth when his fingers find the tops of her stockings, "Jesus … Donna …" he pants as his fingertips skirt the lace which hugs at her thighs. He pushes his hands higher, smoothing over her hips and then cupping her ass. He lifts her off the floor – her back pressed up against the elevator wall – and she wraps her legs around him, digging her heels into his body for balance.

His tongue tastes every inch of exposed skin he can find: her mouth, her neck, her chest – and then he tastes the freckled skin between her breasts remembering how she tasted differently all those years ago: whipped cream, cherries and sparkling wine.

When the elevator pings their arrival at the top floor of his building, he carries her the few short steps to his penthouse, their mouths don't separate – even when he fumbles for his keys, unlocks the door and carries her to his bedroom, lying her down carefully on the bed.

He stands over her letting his jacket fall to the floor, followed by his opened shirt. Then he kicks off his shoes and practically leaps over her body to join her on the bed. She turns over on her elbow, trailing her fingers down his arm as he studies her face for a moment, his eyes suddenly glassy. "Are you sure about this?" he asks again. He can't remember asking any other woman that question while they were lying on his bed, but with her it's different. Everything about her is different.

She gives her answer with another kiss, her fingers gliding through his hair, pulling him closer towards her. "I'm sure," she whispers against his mouth.

He hears two clunks as she kicks her heels onto the floor, then she reaches under her arm and pulls down the side zip of her dress. He swallows hard as he sees a flash of white porcelain appear from underneath black chiffon and he immediately reaches under her dress to touch her. She feels soft and fragile, and he tells himself he'll do anything to protect her and keep her safe.

He pulls her to a sitting position so that he can take off her dress, attempting to push it down over her shoulders, but it won't budge. She laughs as frustrated furrows manifest in his brow and she pulls the garment over her head. His mouth falls open as he watches the mini-striptease, unable to take his eyes off the see-through, black net bra and matching panties which leaves nothing to the imagination – a lilac bow settling at her cleavage and another under her bellybutton.

She laughs as he stares. "Come on, Specter. Don't tell me you haven't seen ladies' underwear before."

"Not on you, I haven't," he says. "You're so beautiful." He runs his fingers over her bra, feeling the net smooth under his fingertips, enjoying the gentle rise of her nipples under the sheer fabric. She moans when he touches her there and his heartrate surges in response. She lies back down and he clicks open the small straps which are holding her stockings up, letting his fingers delve between her thighs as he rolls the soft nylon down her alabaster legs. He takes his time, enjoying the sounds she makes when he touches the insides of her legs. Once done he trails kisses from her toes to her knees, moving between her legs to run his tongue up her thighs and kiss through the sheer fabric of her panties.

Harvey feels his trousers strain as his desire grows. He brings his head level with Donna's and then she surprises him, flipping him over so that he's on his back. She sees an expectant grin flash over his face as she reaches behind her back to unhook her bra, then she leans forward and he cups her breasts, thumbing her nipples until she moans and shivers under his touch.

She can feel his hardness under her as she settles in his lap, enjoying the groaning noises he makes into her neck as she rocks forwards on him. "Oh … god … Donna," he whispers through laboured, panting breaths, the tightness in his crotch suddenly becoming uncomfortable. He fumbles with his buttons, but she takes over, moving his hands out of the way. She unloosens his belt and pushes his pants and underwear down over his legs. He sighs as her hands graze the full length of his cock, circling the tip with her fingernails before moving his clothing down over his knees and ankles.

Donna repositions herself over his naked body, just a tiny expanse of black net underwear between them. She groans as she feels his eagerness nestle between her legs. "Do you have protection …?" she asks, hoping he does and hoping that it's close by.

"Top drawer," he whispers and she scoots over to the table at his side of the bed. It only takes a moment to find the small, foil-wrapped condom and as she opens it she notices the wide-open scene from his floor-to-ceiling windows for the first time. She hasn't been in his bedroom before and being almost naked in full view of the Manhattan skyline is slightly alarming, yet at the same time, unbelievably exciting.

Donna discards the foil wrapper and passes Harvey the condom which he puts on carefully. When done, she moves towards him again, but he stops her, turning her on her back. "I like it like this," he says with a thick tone to his voice. "I want to take my time."

She smiles at him and he starts laying kisses on her again, wanting to touch his tongue to every inch of her body. She squirms under him as he laps between her breasts, stopping briefly to tug at her nipples, pinching her hard, erect skin with his teeth so that she draws in a sharp breath. He looks into her eyes as he licks further down her body, dipping into her navel, linking her freckles together with his tongue before settling between her legs and slowly peeling her underwear from her body. There's a short, neat, flash of gold which sets his pulse racing before he sinks into her wetness, tasting how ready she is for him.

Donna bites down on her lip, her toes spreading as ripples of energy spread through her body. Her cheeks burn as he finds her clit and rolls his tongue around, pressing inside her with his fingers until her breathing becomes rapid and uncontrolled. She feels a familiar sensation build in her vulva, an electric current buzzing from her centre and surging in waves to every nerve in her body. She screams out his name. She roars as her body raptures into violent shudders. And it feels different. The connection is stronger than it has been with any man she has made love to before. Except, maybe, that one time twelve years ago.

And she wants more.

She locks her fingers through his hair and guides him to meet her. She kisses him, tasting herself on his tongue as their bodies, hot and sticky with sweat, press against each other.

"God I want you so much," he says as he runs his hands up her body, positioning himself between her thighs. "Are you okay?" he whispers as his tip nudges against her opening.

She responds by grabbing his ass and pushing him inside her. "Just fuck me," she growls and he almost loses his mind as he feels her walls close in around him. Her heat and her wetness is tantalising as he thrusts slowly into her. He wants to remember this night. He wants to remember how she sounds, how she feels, but mostly how she looks: her red hair splayed on his white cotton pillow, her eyes dark with yearning, the curl of her lips reddened through the force of their kissing and the paleness of her skin contrasting against his olive shade as he holds her close. He looks into her eyes as he pushes into her, the sensations building to a climax quicker than he'd like, but he can't hold on any longer. He makes one last plunge into her body, the intensity knocking the air out of him, then he drops beside her, wrapping his arms protectively around her until their heartrates slow and their temperatures return to normal.

They don't move for several minutes, taking the time to relish the moment they've just shared. Knowing that there's an exciting, yet terrifying future ahead of them.

"Donna, how are you feeling?" he asks in a hushed tone.

She looks up from his chest. "I feel pretty good. That was …"

"Awesome. I know," he interrupts with a smirk. She pokes him gently in the ribs.

"You were okay I suppose," she jokes back.

He laughs and hugs her tighter, enjoying the feel of her soft hair against his chest. He reaches behind her ear and curls his favourite lock of hair around his fingers again. "Will you stay tonight?" he asks.

"Uhm … yeah, sure," she replies, wrapping her legs around his.

"And tomorrow?"

"I guess," she says with a laugh. "But we will have to go to work at some point."

"I don't think I can. I'm going to be thinking about you all day."

"I'll be there – next to you – all day."

He grins. "Donna?"

"Hmm."

"Promise you'll never leave me."

She sighs and snuggles in closer. "I can't promise that Harvey. My happiness depends on you."

She feels his body stiffen underneath her, then he kisses the top of her head. "And I depend on you helping me do this relationship stuff. You have to tell me when I'm being a dick."

"I do that already. Most days."

He giggles. "I know, but from now on I need you to tell me how to stop being a dick."

"I do that too. You just have to listen, remember I'm always right and … well, you'll soon learn."

He grins and kisses her again. He knows he's never going to win an argument with her. Ever. "I love you," he says as he lets go of the piece of her hair he's been coiling around his fingers, letting it fall in a ringlet onto her chest.

She looks up at him. "I love you too, Harvey."

X X X

"PRESENT DAY"

He jerks forward suddenly, his body heaving as the beautiful daydream that had sent him into a half-sleep ends.

Louis is fast asleep on the floor, curled up into a ball. Mike is sitting on the opposite end of the green padded hospital seat, his head resting against the wall. He's staring blankly into the room, but his eyes are open and alert.

His stomach burns as his brain slowly wakes up to where he is.

"Mike … how long … shit … how did I fall asleep? Is there any news?"

Mike turns to face his friend, dark circles clawing at his reddened eyes. "No, there's no news, Harvey. They're hoping she makes it through the night …" his voice breaks and his friend's pain catches in a lump in his own throat. "If she makes it to morning, then 24 hours, her chances will improve."

"Jesus, I feel like I'm in an alternate universe. How the hell did this happen? She's so fucking alive, but now her entire life has been reduced to odds and chances." He feels his chest constrict as his grief overwhelms him. "She has to make it. She has to."

"I know, Harvey, and she will."

"I can't go on without her. I don't want to … Jesus, Mike … what would my world be like without her in it?"

"I can't imagine … she's like … she's like a sister to me, you know?" A tear rolls down Mike's face. "You need to call her parents, Harvey."

He had been resisting making the call for the last few hours, because he wanted to tell them some good news alongside the bad, but now he knew Mike was right. They needed to know and they should be here. He nods his head and pulls his cell phone from his pocket, scrolling through his address book for Jim and Gloria Paulsen's number.

Then, he leaves the room to make what he knows will be the worst telephone call of his entire life.