AN: Hi friends! It's been a long time! But trust me when I say this fic has been an even longer time coming. It's pretty dumb, but what can I say… so are they?

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Sunlight stays so late in June

Look how we dance alone

Spinning 'round in your living room

Feel my heart, heart, heart, heart ache

What if we will become

All the things we said we weren't?


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"You look…" Donna eyes him, a smile treading the corner of her mouth, trying to decipher his expression.

"What?" Harvey indulges her, but seems to already know what he looks like.

"Like it's your wedding. Only significantly less drunk." She glances at the groom, swaying Rachel around in a much faster pace than the melody currently playing would ask for.

Harvey laughs. "I'm dancing with the prettiest woman here tonight. I look…happy."

His low voice prickles her skin. Not to mention the comment itself – he never compliments her like that.

Donna hms, covering any reaction to his words, and decides to push him a little. "Again, that would be the groom."

Harvey's grin spills freely over his face. He leans back from their embrace, just enough to look into her eyes. "You look beautiful," he tells her again, and she really didn't expect his earnestness, so she blushes besides herself, lowering her gaze to escape his and resuming the pace of their slow dance to escape the topic altogether.

It's no use. "Donna Paulsen," he says. "Did you just blush?"

She grips back her wits, looking up at him with a polite confusion that's so practiced he should almost buy it. "Did I? It's really hot in here, right? I should go tell the staff to lower the heating."

Harvey huffs a laugh. "Sure. After this next song, maybe."

He pulls her the smallest bit closer, the hard curve of his cheekbone resting softly against her own. Her eyes flutter closed for a second and they dance.

They have been dancing for several songs. Harvey spun her around and laughed, gripping her waist to guide her movements; he held her close in his arms as the songs got slower, fingers intertwined and sharing looks and breaths in a way that feels like walking at the edge of a precipice, though she never wants to climb down to safety.

"Donna,"

"Hm?"

His hand tenses on her back; the one she's holding gets warmer.

"I was thinking…"

She gazes up at him and can see in his eyes the same thing she hears in his voice and feels in his touch.

Harvey jolts as someone's hand slaps against his back and then Mike's holding him, grinning, tipsy and deliriously happy. At the same time Rachel's arm encircles Donna's waist, pulling her close, and she hugs her friend.

"I'm never gonna be able to thank you enough for tonight, Donna," Rachel says, overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness. "It was more than I could have ever dreamed of. I'm so lucky to have you as my friend and my maid of honor."

"That's nice," Harvey quips, looking at Mike. "Meanwhile my friend wasn't even going to invite me for the wedding."

"Oh, come on, dude. You know I would've asked Donna to be my best man if Rachel hadn't gotten to her first."

"You know I haven't gotten your wedding gift yet, right? If I were you, I'd think very carefully about what I say."

"No, that's fine, cause I know Donna's the one who really buys your gifts for you." Mike winks at Donna and she laughs, cause he got Harvey and he knows.

Harvey only pouts, amused. He's fine with letting the guy have one up on him – only because it's his wedding day. "I have no idea why, but I'm actually gonna miss you," he tells Mike.

Donna and Rachel watch as Mike smiles and pulls Harvey in for a heartfelt hug, before the women leave them to it, holding each other's hands and starting to dance together.

Mike watches Donna giggling along with his bride as they twirl together. Feeling emboldened by the moment, he sobers up and tells Harvey, "You're my best man and you're family to me, Harvey, and I won't be around to watch you make a fool of yourself anymore, so I really have to ask you this one last time: what's stopping you from seeing what's right in front of your face?"

Harvey pauses, looking over Mike's shoulder to watch Donna on the dancefloor, because he absolutely does not have to ask what his friend is referring to. The corner of his mouth tugs. Looking back at Mike, he asks, "What do you mean 'one last time'? You've never asked me that before."

Mike rolls his eyes. "That's what you're going with?"

"Also, do you really plan on never speaking to me again after you move? Is your salary going to be so shitty in your new little clinic that you won't be able to afford long distance calls?"

"Okay, I give up," Mike groans, walking out of the dancefloor.

Harvey follows his steps, continuing to mock him all the way to the bar. "Hey, don't be like that, you can place a collect call to me…"

After Mike and Rachel leave the party, the venue quickly empties. Robert's still there, talking to Louis, but Sheila is dozing off on his shoulder so that's about to be a short conversation. There's a couple more groups of people, some young associates from the office and some of Rachel's relatives.

Donna's just finishing up with the hotel's concierge when she catches Harvey gazing at her, leaning by the bar, nursing an almost empty tumbler of scotch.

He's been watching her. She noticed while she moved around saying goodbye to people and instructing the caterers. So, when she's done with her maid of honor duties, she joins him.

"What are you still doing here? Thought you'd be tired."

Harvey slides his own glass over the bar and she accepts it, taking a sip of the drink.

"Just waiting for you," he tells her.

Donna frowns. "You didn't have to. I made the reservation in your name, you can go up to your room. I know you had a long day".

He smirks, and as soon as he does she realizes she misinterpreted why he was waiting for her, though she still doesn't know exactly what he wants.

"Thought we could finish our dance," de clarifies.

Something warm takes the cue and dances around inside her belly. She schools her features, quirks an eyebrow up questioningly. "Finish our dance? We finished several dances tonight."

"Indulge me in one more?"

The DJ's still playing. The dance floor is dim, with only the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling illuminating that section of the venue. No one else is dancing. Hell, there's barely even anyone there.

Harvey offers his hand and Donna holds it. His fingers are warm, soft, and her hand fits within his palm.

He guides her to the dancefloor without any other word. When she places her hand on his shoulder, he adjusts her just so, placing the hand he's holding on his chest, his own hands circling her waist.

It feels intimate – the way he's embracing her now, the darkness bathed in a golden softness and his warm breath on her face. Harvey sways her slowly to the melody, his hips and hands guiding her movements. And she lets herself go, breathing in the faint scent of his perfume and melting into the heat of his body.

Harvey's hands are bolder now that they're mostly alone. His fingers splay over her back, one of his hands sliding up her spine until he meets bare flesh, fingertips pressing into the soft skin of her back. Donna reacts. She doesn't know if she makes a sound or if her body tenses or if he simply feels her heartbeats thrumming wildly, but the hand that's still on the small of her back exerts some pressure, pulling her close until their bodies are pressed together.

Harvey groans, so so low she could've imagined it. His hands are all over her back and she notices when he breathes in deeply, inhaling the scent of her hair.

It's a precarious condition, being here in Harvey's arms, after their relationship was almost destroyed by her feelings. After his rejection, and promising she would never kiss him again; after the angry fight and bittersweet reconciliation; after his resolute claim that he doesn't want more and after she lied about not wanting it either. Things between them have so recently been proclaimed "back to normal" she still doesn't feel like they're back to being themselves at all.

Still, Harvey's here, throwing himself over the line he had so adamantly carved back between them in the past few weeks. She may be scared as hell of the consequences, but she's been to the deep end of this – almost lost her job and him – and they ended up back here, at the same spot: at the precipice of drowning in her feelings again, like a timeloop. So, not surrendering to his touch feels like an exercise in futility. At least this time there's no one else between them, so it could never end up as badly as when she kissed him before. And dammit, she wants to kiss him again.

Her hands curve around the back of his neck. She feels that the way he's clinging to her gives her permission to run her fingernails up the nape of his neck, into his hair, scratching there, his hair soft between her knuckles.

This time, he definitely groans. Dipping his head, Harvey's mouth brushes the side of her neck, dragging his lips over her skin. His breath is hot, eliciting goosebumps. He finally places a lingering kiss to the spot, his mouth obsessed with the feel of her skin. A hand slides further up, taking hold of her hair. His mouth opens against her neck, sucking on her pulse point and kissing again and again.

"Harvey…" Donna practically moans his name and he seems to like that a lot, judging by how his open mouth drags up her neck to suck a wet kiss right under her earlobe.

He pulls her impossibly closer, his leg now pressed between hers as they barely sway in place, scarcely keeping the pretense of dancing, only because their bodies moving together feel so good.

Harvey traces kisses over her jawline and then her cheek, his lips getting closer and closer to hers until he's kissing the corner of her mouth and Donna's pushing him away.

Harvey looks at her, wide-eyed, waiting for what she's going to say. It's strikingly clear how afraid he is that she's going to put an end to whatever this is.

Donna gazes into his eyes. Takes a deep breath so her head maybe stops spinning. Then, her hand slides slowly down his arm and she takes Harvey's hand. Her head tilts sideways and she smiles at him – conspiratorial, sweet.

Relief floats out on his sigh. He entwines their fingers and she guides them out of the venue.

They go to her room, not his. He ended up never even getting a key at reception.

Harvey kisses her shoulders, and the back of her neck, and the top of her shoulder blades. Wet kisses whispered over her skin as he slides the thin straps of her dress down to undress her.

His hand is warm low on her belly, cupping her hip bone and teasing the edge of her panties while he sucks and nibbles on the curve of her neck, his erection grinding firmly against her ass. Her arm goes up, wanting to touch him too, and she holds his head, pulling him into a kiss, her tongue tasting his lips.

Harvey's hands slide up her sides, scratching up her ribcage until he cradles the weight of her breasts in each of his hands. He kneads the soft globes and moans at the feel of her hard nipples against his palms.

He massages her breasts and pinches her nipples while they share endless wet kisses, and he ruts against her ass until they're both panting and trembling in need. When he turns her in his arms, Harvey kisses her deeply and presses her body into the bedsheets, desperate to be inside her.

Donna finishes undressing him and wraps her hand around his cock. He feels so big and so hard in her hand, dripping fluid and everything she wants. Harvey's sucking on a nipple while she pleasures him, and he bites, pulling carefully until she whimpers, and then pressing his tongue over her breast again. It feels so fucking good she's pretty sure she could come from that.

Harvey's hand strokes her over her panties insistently. It wasn't much of a garment to begin with – tiny, so it wouldn't show under her dress – but Harvey seemed to really like that, so now the satiny fabric is completely soaked and he moves it around her wet pussy along with his hand, for extra friction, avoiding her clit as if he didn't know where it's located, which she knows he goddamn does.

"Tell me you have a condom," he begs between her breasts.

Luckily, she does.

Contrary to what she expected, the next time they see each other at the firm Harvey's behavior is not awkward or regretful. The only evidence that he's seen her naked in the past forty eight hours is an ever-present, self-satisfied smirk on his face.

At first, it surprises her because she expected at least some awkwardness. Then, his demeanor rattles her because it simply won't go away – he seems happy, and smug, and not attempting to hide it. He makes no comments though, restraining his acknowledgment of what happened to intentful gazes and meaningful smirks when they cross paths.

Eventually, she rolls her eyes, relaxes, and allows herself to smile about it too, because at least they seem to be okay – nothing has been ruined by them impulsively, finally surrendering to the long existing desire between them.

And then, just when Donna was convinced they had passed their lapse in judgment, as deliriously good as it was, and would be back to never mentioning it again… Harvey asks her out.

He saunters into her office at night, an almost shy "hey" falling from his lips.

"Sorry it's been so busy today," he says, taking a seat in the chair in front of her and leaning back.

It's the first day of their merger with Zane and busy doesn't even begin to cover it. "Yeah, you wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork I still need to finish tonight," Donna tells him, gazing around the organized chaos of her desk.

"Oh."

He seems disappointed and she tilts her head, questioningly.

"Anything I can do to speed up the process?" he asks, and Harvey offering to help with paperwork is definitely a first in all the years they've worked together – he's much more likely to run away from it – so she can't help the huff of laughter that escapes her.

Harvey glares at her. "I'm not that bad."

"You really are!" She laughs. "But don't worry. I'll have everything ready for you to sign tomorrow morning."

"You don't have to stay so late to finish all this tonight."

"I actually do if we want to finalize this merger on time."

He purses his lips. "So dinner's off the table?"

Oh. So that's where he was going with this.

Skin tingling and caught by surprise, she can only buy some time. "Dinner?" she asks.

"Dinner." Harvey confirms, nodding a single time and not offering her any more information. But his hands are in fists, and the knot in his tie is a little too tight, his jawline tense. Donna may not have a clear read on what's playing on his mind, but she knows for a fact this isn't just a friendly dinner invite. She also knows he's aware of her knowing that.

"I really can't tonight," she answers honestly.

He seems disappointed, but bounces back quickly. "Tomorrow then?"

His eyes trap hers expectantly. Wide, hopeful. She feels her heartstrings being pulled by doubt and fear, but Harvey's pull has always been so much stronger.

He admitted she affects him and showed her just how much the other night. He wants her, she makes him hard, they have fun together. And, god, she wants him so much. He might not want everything – all the fights they've had after she kissed him left that excruciatingly clear – but they both at least want this.

So why take a step back now when they're already in so deep?

She bites into her bottom lip and, the second she does, Harvey seems to relax.

He caught up with her thoughts and her decision even before she did, the lip bite giving away the fact that she lost the battle with her own mind, which was begging her to be sane.

Dammit, she thinks. He really knows her too well for their own good.

Accepting that he has her, that they've already thrown caution to the wind and that she has long lost control over what her body wants, Donna breathes in deeply, eyes intently fixed on his, and tells him, "Yes. Sure. Why not?"

There are probably a hundred thousand reasons why not and not one seems to be of importance to her at that moment, distracted by the wide smile that spreads over Harvey's face and the way her heart is thundering loudly deep in her belly.

Harvey dismisses Ray and drives to her apartment. It's something new, from the car club, but not a flashy-trying-to-impress-her-slash-compensate-for-a-mid-life-crisis car. It's black, classic. A Mercedes of some sort, and she thinks it suits Harvey's elegant style.

He opens the door for her and brushes his fingertips down her wrist. "You look beautiful," he tells her.

She smiles and she hopes to god she's not blushing again this time because she's really not used to Harvey telling her that, especially not combined with the way he's looking at her. She quirks a teasing eyebrow at him. "You know, you told me that more times in the last few days than in the past dozen years."

"If you knew how frequently I was thinking it, you'd be shocked at my restraint."

She shakes her head, trying to hide her smile, while he closes her door and rounds the car, grinning like he totally won that round.

Yeah, she's definitely blushing now.

He takes her to Del Posto, like she knew he would, and the familiarity of the place, and food and thirteen years of being the biggest part of each other's lives leaves no room for anything to be strained between them. They know each other too well for that. The fluid conversation and their chemistry aren't new. The difference now is the electric spark covering the notion that this is an actual date and that the immense amount of sexual tension is actually going to lead to something.

When Harvey pulls his chair close to hers after dessert, she can hardly believe they're really here like this – in this place they've been to together numerous times, always as friends and professionals, but now his fingers are caressing the soft skin inside her forearm and, although they converse as easily as always, there's real intention behind his words, his gaze and his touch.

He jokes she's a black widow and she threatens to put szechuan peppercorns in his lunch. He mentions having a thing for red heads and she teases that she's never once seen him date one in all these years. He smiles bashfully at that and something flutters inside her. There's just wine on the table now and their conversation has long surpassed harmless territory.

On the sidewalk, waiting for the valet, Harvey finally extinguishes the space between them. The night sky is an indigo blue and much lighter than it should be for the time. His arm loops around her waist and he leans close, his nose brushing her hair back to press a kiss on her neck that makes her lose her train of thought.

His voice is quiet and hoarse, words dropping into her neck. "I want to ask if you'll come home with me, but if you say no I might actually go crazy."

"Why do you think I would say no?" Donna wonders. To her, it seems pretty obvious she can't stay away from him if she wanted to.

He brushes another kiss to her skin. "I want you so much."

"Yeah? What do you want to do with me?" She murmurs just as the valet reaches them with his keys. Harvey, knowing her like the back of his hand, recognizes the humorous banter in her words where others would only hear corny seduction.

He looks at her. A huge smile crinkling the corners of his bright eyes. "Tease."

He kisses her slowly and languorously. None of the hurry of the other night. His kisses are wet and sensuous as he tastes every curve and dip of her body.

She sighs and moans lowly at the way his hands and mouth make her feel and his eyes find hers to watch the pleasure on her face. He smiles at that in a way that doesn't feel like a challenge, but rather, an accomplishment.

It's late into the night when they're lying tangled in bed, spent and sleepy. She's scratching her fingernails lightly up his arm when her overthinking nature catches up with her and she works up the courage to ask.

"Harvey?"

"Hm?"

"I'm only gonna ask you this once but… is there a chance this has anything to do with Mike leaving?"

"Last I checked, I wasn't sleeping with Mike." His voice drags, at the edge of falling asleep.

"You know what I mean."

He sighs and opens his eyes, making a begrudging effort to take her concern seriously. "I really don't."

"I mean are you feeling lonely?"

His head sparsely shakes. "Donna, if you're asking if I miss Mike, of course I do. But you and I being here together has nothing to do with that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Don't you think this has been one hell of a long time coming? I've wanted to be with you long before Mike ever came into our lives. And I don't know what kind of company you think Mike kept me, but it wasn't this," he says, brushing his palm over the bare skin of her thigh.

The weight of his words softens a bit with the humor. Donna chuckles and opts to ignore the comment about how long he's wanted to be with her. She drifts off to sleep, feeling the warmth of his hand on her skin.

Donna thinks they're doing a really good job of keeping things casual. She should have given them some more credit, because she never believed they could've handled this before. She's always thought feelings, expectations and other people's opinions would get in the way. They don't. Although that's because no one knows about them, because there are no expectations and because she's keeping her feelings on a tight leash.

The truth is, all these years, whenever she would think about her and Havey getting together (and that had been a recurring thought), she always thought that would be it. That they would do it for real and it would either be forever or break them for good. She never pictured them just sleeping together and moving on as if it wasn't a big deal.

Maybe they should have done it sooner. Because the idea of her and Harvey together had always held such an enormous weight that it felt like immense relief to finally put that weight down. To surrender. And after everything that happened, after Paula and the kiss, at least their so-called blurred lines were perfectly clear, for the first time in their lives: they were attracted to each other, but they didn't want more.

Of course they don't talk about them. They never do (with the glaring exceptions of the few times that ended in love me how and we've done more than that and disaster), but Harvey had made sure they were on the same page about this.

She promised never to kiss him again and, well, he may have broken that promise for her, but everything else remains the same: they smile, they drink, they flirt, they have sex… And that's the extent of their relationship.

She can protect her heart from breaking now that there aren't any expectations. At least she thinks she can.

He says something absolutely random during sex.

Donna doesn't reply. Instead, her eyebrows pinch, a look of agonizing concentration in the little crease between her eyebrows, her lips silently parted, as a wave of toe-curling pleasure prevents her from engaging in the bantering. Harvey grins to himself.

When the crest of the wave passes, she hmms and pants, and then she says, as if there was no interruption, "You're such an idiot."

He laughs among his groans and he keeps pumping into her until he finishes, with her legs around his waist and her open mouth against his.

Harvey drops some of his weight into the mattress, keeping her close so he doesn't slip from within her while he catches his breath. He drops a kiss to her chin and glances adoringly at her breasts.

His palm slides up her waist slowly until he cups one of her breasts. He looks right into her eyes as if he's going to say something of grave importance.

"You flush bright red when you come."

She laughs.

"I love it," he tells her and kisses the crook of her neck.

They're at the movies, on a weekend night, wearing jeans. Absolutely everything about the situation seems so surreal, a cut from somebody else's life, not theirs. It's easy to pretend she's just lucid dreaming and to go with it.

Harvey leans in close to whisper the most ridiculous comment into her ear and, when she chuckles, his mouth drops lower, sucking a kiss right under her lobe. She sighs, deeply, turns her face into his in the darkness and captures his lips. He seems really happy about that, kissing her lazily, fighting through the smirk that keeps tugging the corners of his mouth.

When they leave, the night is warm and the breeze is fresh. He takes her small palm into his and they walk home to her apartment, holding hands all the way there.

His skin is smooth and taut. Her hands slide down the dip of the small of his back and into his jeans, squeezing his ass and pulling him closer on top of her. Harvey's mouth opens against hers, an amused moan escaping into her mouth. She doesn't stop kissing him.

She pushes his pants down slowly with her feet, the bare skin of his torso feeling soft and warm against her inner thighs.

It's a Friday night and they both miraculously managed to leave work early. Harvey thinks it's the perfect opportunity for a decent night out and doesn't even let Donna go home to change.

She takes him to the rooftop at The Ritz-Carlton. Harvey's never been, but the sun setting over the breathtaking view of the city wins him over instantly.

They spend hours there and, by the time they leave, she's feeling pleasantly buzzed on cocktails and absolutely intoxicated with him.

This time, Harvey leads them. She thinks they're going to his apartment – they've been alternating pretty seamlessly whenever they do spend the night together, depending on where they ended the night or whoever has an earlier morning the next day – but Harvey stops on the way. As it turns out, the night isn't over yet and he pulls her into some kind of darkly-lit, hole-in-the-wall jazz club.

"I thought we could dance for a bit," he tells her, as she takes in the place, the band playing in the back and the secluded booths. The bashful way he says it is enough fuel for her to tease him.

"You want to take me out dancing?"

He shrugs.

"Careful, Harvey, you're at risk of seeming like a giant mush."

"And you, Paulsen, are at risk of people finding out you have two left feet."

She dismisses the challenge with an eye roll. "Which I don't."

He places both hands on her hips, pushing her forward into the dancefloor. "Prove it, then."

"Says the man who danced with me for approximately a thousand hours not a month ago." She says, folding her arms around his shoulders as he starts guiding her to the smooth rhythm of the saxophone playing.

"You got me," he concedes, pulling her until their bodies meet. He joins his own hands loosely at the small of her back.

"You're lucky you're pretty."

Harvey grins, pulling her close enough to press his lips against hers. It's soft and lingering, and they're both smiling when they part.

She's naked in his bed, breath labored and body tense, riding right at the very edge of climax for what feels like hours. A thin layer of sweat covers her skin and she clutches Harvey's hand on hip.

He's behind her, on his side, and she's twisted around face him, her moans falling wantonly into his mouth. Her back is almost flush with the mattress, hips tilted to take his trusts and one leg bent and open. She's laying on top of his arm and his hand keeps insistently kneading her breast, rubbing her nipple. The hand on her hip is sure to leave a mark, but it's how he anchors Donna to him, occasionally slipping down to stroke her clit and edge her even further.

Harvey's as out of control as she's ever seen him. The slow, incessant pace of their thrusts driving him out of his mind in pleasure. He bites her shoulder, teeth marking the delicate skin, then buries his mouth into her neck, licks her wetly and moans, freely and unabashed.

And he talks. Whereas Donna can barely manage to breathe, Harvey's keen on letting her know exactly what he's feeling tonight. His words and the sound of his voice heightening her pleasure all the more.

"Hhm… You feel so good. So fucking good around my cock… all of you."

He moves his hand up to her hair, gripping and pulling her mouth closer to his, leaving her breasts free to swing to the rhythm of their fucking. He watches her, flickering her clit with his other hand. She's entirely pliable to him. Her eyes are closed thigh, her breasts bouncing, nipples erect and skin flushed.

"Look at you… you're so beautiful." He breathes hotly against her cheek. "So beautiful… all mine. Finally mine..."

She's clenching and unclenching around him, completely beside herself, high on the pleasure he gives and she just takes and takes. Her hand moves up to the back of his head, the other one finds his own near her shoulder and interlocks their fingers, desperate to ground herself while she's on the crest of exploding.

The sound of Harvey's moans is a physical pleasure to her. He grinds and thrusts into her, never missing a beat, pleasuring her with his fingers and his voice and anytime he says her name, she thinks that's going to be her undoing.

"Fuck, Donna… So good…you're perfect… I love you..."

She succumbs to a long whirlwind of pleasure that keeps her writhing and moaning against him, her thighs trembling and wetness seeping into his hand. He joins her almost instantly, the edge he's been riding for so long giving in to the tight grip of her orgasm.

He kisses her, tongue tangling with hers while he's still spilling and shuddering.

She feels incredibly overwhelmed. With pleasure, with his body, with his words… With the insurmountable love she feels for him that she thought she could control until it all comes tumbling down.

She can't.

Her phone buzzes on the coffee table, Harvey's name lighting up the screen. It's 3 P.M. on Sunday and she knows this isn't about work. She left his apartment early on Saturday, reciting a litany of excuses about having a busy day before he was even fully awake.

The truth is that with the imprint of his hands all over her still burning her skin and his words murmured into neck still simmering deep inside her, she's too raw to see him again today.

Still, she can't simply not pick up his call.

She answers, steadying her voice. "Hey."

"Hi." There's a grin in his tone. "What are you up to today?"

"Nothing, really. Why?"

"I was wondering if I could pick you up and we could do something."

She wants to ask what he has in mind. Curious about what sort of image Harvey has about the two of them together, "doing something" on a Sunday afternoon – if it's maybe all the things that have haunted her daydreams for years. But asking would imply being up to it, and she's most definitely not.

"No– hm, I'm…" She flusters. "Not feeling great."

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine! Just hm– cramps."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So. Not today."

"Okay…" The sounds in the background tell he's doing something else while talking to her, and she takes the minute distraction to elude him.

"I'll talk to you later then, okay?

He sounds slightly confused by her brushing him off so quickly. "Okay."

"Bye, Harvey."

She hangs up.

She's not one for finding excuses for what she doesn't want to do – especially not ones as unoriginal as cramps – but she's not hiding from something she doesn't want. It's the exact opposite and she panicked.

After their last night, she was left reeling. The passion she felt and the words that inadvertently escaped Harvey during sex forced her to face the stark reality that she is – that she had always been – emotionally too deep into something that was supposed to be strictly physical. No matter how much she rationalized things, her heart was in to get broken.

She assumed she would have the day away from Harvey to think things over and decide if she was able to continue putting her heart at risk, in exchange for being with him a little while longer, or whether she's strong enough to draw back a boundary to protect herself against everything Harvey isn't willing to have.

She hasn't reached any conclusion yet. And she misses him already.

She's feeling sluggish and uneasy, upset about the fact that she could be with Harvey if only she had let him. She thought she needed space to clear her head, but it's really not working.

She's on the couch, distracting herself with a movie, when a knock on her door echoes through the apartment. Her first thought is it's Harvey, but it can't be, not when he called ahead and she turned him down. Showing up unannounced is so much more his style.

So Donna's actually surprised when she swings the door open and he's really standing there, smiling, two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag in his hands. It seems to amuse him to have caught her by surprise.

He extends her one of the cups. "It's got all of the sugar and whipped cream and caramel they had. It's actually probably disgusting."

She tastes it. It's sweet as fuck. She loves it.

Donna's about to ask what he's doing there when he side steps her and enters the apartment unceremoniously.

"There's also a muffin," he mentions, walking into the living room. She's still by the door, raised eyebrows he doesn't catch, before she locks the door and follows Harvey inside.

He places the pastry on the dinner table, turning around just as she reaches him. His hand curves around her jaw, bringing her face closer, and he kisses her. It's just a peck, mouth gently pressing against hers, but that – the casualness, light heartedness, familiarity of it all – it stuns her into a shock.

She's wearing pajama shorts, silky and so short. Her top is pale and linen and, therefore, mildly see-through. She fights the urge to cross her arms to try and hide the shade of her areolas from peeking through, thinking it's pointless considering how often Harvey's been seeing them lately, and also that the movement is only going to attract more attention to the general area.

Her playing it cool proves to be for nothing as Harvey's eyes linger on her breasts. He grins. Her nipples grow taut.

"What?" He asks, at the look on her face, grinning like a cat. "I don't have to pretend I'm not looking anymore."

Donna rolls her eyes and shakes her head, trying to cover her actual reaction.

"What are you doing here? I thought we said we'd talk later?"

"No, you said that. I wanted to hang out with you."

"Hang out?" she quirks an eyebrow, almost chuckling.

Now it's his turn to roll his eyes.

"Come on. What are you doing?" He eyes the television on pause. "Oh, a crappy movie. Sounds great." He takes her hand and pulls her around the couch, and she's only fast enough to clutch her coffee before following him.

He throws himself on the couch, and once he's there she definitely doesn't hate herself enough to kick him out. She presses play on the remote, letting herself drop down beside him.

"You good?" she asks, fondly. "What did you do today?"

Harvey shrugs. "Not much. Went boxing, caught up on some paperwork, took a nap. I thought you were sleeping in," he mentions, "or I would've called sooner."

He keeps surprising her today and her facial structure is really not equipped to hide her bewilderment that much. "Somebody really wanted to see me today," she says.

He smiles in agreement and it's so goddamn sweet her skin prickles. She grins, despite herself, and turns her attention to the movie.

Eventually, he decides he's hungry and goes into the kitchen to microwave some popcorn.

She was handling it before. The flirty, and fun, and sensual. She actually came to the conclusion that surrendering to the pull between them had been a good thing for their relationship, because it eased off the tension. It had made things lighter when they could finally admit they wanted each other, act on it and the world didn't end.

They managed to not let it destroy them, which had been both of their fears for over a decade.

But this…

This casual intimacy, the closeness even when no sex is involved, the gentleness between them, the tenderness of his touches and his earnestness. It scares her. It makes her fear the fact that she might not ever be able to stop wanting Harvey all the damn time. She doesn't know what to do.

By the time he comes back, placing the popcorn bowl on the side table, she's laying on the cushions, her legs stretched out and taking up his seat. Before she can pull her legs back to make room, Harvey wraps his hands around her calves, lifting her feet just enough so he can sit down, promptly placing them back down on his lap.

His hands wrap around a foot, thumb grazing a soft caress around her ankle bone and then pressing into her soles. It's so unconscious, just so natural and affectionate. He's not even looking, absorbed in the movie.

His fingertips move softly up her lower legs, caressing her skin with such tenderness it makes something pinch in the back of her nose, willing a glaze into her eyes that she fights to contain.

His hand strokes idly up her leg, palm sliding over her bony knee and fingers scratching the lower part of her thigh. It's not sexual, not at all, despite all the goosebumps he unconsciously leaves in his way.

Harvey chuckles at the movie, squeezing her foot with his other hand. He looks so light, so happy. And thinking he could be this happy with her and then having to face the fact that it doesn't mean anything is as excruciating as never having him at all. She feels a shortness of breath. Suddenly it's all too much and she needs to get away because she can't pretend it's not affecting her anymore.

Donna pulls her legs back in a haste, alarming him. She sits on her heels, scooting as far away from Harvey on the couch as she can. Harvey looks at her questioningly, his hands still cupping the empty space her feet left on his lap.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Harvey, what… What are you doing?"

He frowns. "Watching a movie?"

"No–" She shakes her head, trying to push away her frustration and the fear of needing to put words to what they've been doing for the past few weeks. "What are you doing on my couch, on a Sunday afternoon, rubbing my feet… What are you doing to me?"

He looks as confused as in the moment she jumped away from him.

"Donna…? I don't…"

She waits for a beat but no further explanation ensues.

"What, Harvey, what?"

"I have no idea why you look so freaked out right now."

She breathes in, trying to be reasonable and coherent as she voices her feelings.

"Look, I– These past couple weeks have been…" She sighs deeply, trying to compress everything she feels into her lungs. "It's been really great. But at some point we'll have to face reality."

"What part of this hasn't been real for you?"

She hears the hesitancy and slight offense in his tone, but decides to answer honestly. "The part where, at the end of the day, we are what we have always been, Harvey. Which are blurred lines and things unsaid. And it's fine, I've accepted that. But now it's become too much, Harvey, just too much for me to keep pretending it's not there, to still act casual and like this is nothing more than us surrendering to the pull that has always existed between us. I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

She feels like a load is off her chest. It feels awful, like acid rushing to her bloodstream, because she pulled the plug on them. But seeing what they could have together and waking up every morning to be reminded that they don't was killing her.

She's ready for him to back track, to make light of the issue. To insist they're fine, they're still just them, like they've always been, only now they give in to the unequivocal sexual tension. She's expecting him to stubbornly maintain it doesn't mean anything.

She's not ready for him to frown deeply and spit out the word, "Casual?"

She looks at him, unmoving.

"You think this is casual?" he asks, and the answer would be yes, but there's something in his eyes that prevents her from saying it.

He reads it in her face anyway. "Donna." He almost laughs, all bafflement and pretty much no humor. "How can you even think that?

"I…"

"You're everything to me. All I've ever wanted was you and I was so relieved we're finally together and you didn't even know?"

She blinks. Shakes her head. "Harvey… What are you saying?"

"I'm saying this isn't goddamn casual." He seems angry at the bare word.

Donna takes him in, really takes him in. The focus in his dark eyes, razor sharp on her. The exasperation. The reality of Harvey touching her, and kissing her, and whispering how much he wants her. The lightness all around him.

It hits her, suddenly.

It shouldn't be that sudden – it has existed for twelve and a half years and it has taken physical form, solid contours and technicolors weeks ago – but she stupidly, scaredly, stupefyingly… only sees it now.

The epiphany escapes her mouth just as it reaches her.

"You love me," she says, voice low and unassuming. It's not a question, but it's not an affirmation either. It's a conclusion, falling around her with not an insignificant amount of perplexity. She blinks.

"I'm completely in love with you," he agrees, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Her mouth moves without any sound. Then, "This whole time…?", she checks.

"We've been dating, yes."

He seems stunned at having to inform her of the fact. When she doesn't say anything, he clarifies further. "I can't believe I know this and you don't, but you're my girlfriend." Her stomach flutters violently and something must transpire in her face because he adds, nervously infusing some humor into his words, "Yes. And if you have a problem with that you're gonna have to break up with me – and I would fight you on that, just so you know, I would fight you."

Her eyes feel watery, heartbeats jumping inside her chest. She kneels up, cradling his face in her hands and kissing him firmly, then melting into his lap in a long, slow kiss.

Harvey wraps her in his arms and kisses her until he's chuckling in relief, still a little rattled. "You scared me for a moment there," he tells her, stroking her cheek tenderly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks.

He smiles, shrugs. "You've always just known."

She looks into his soft brown eyes, traces the sharp edges of his jaw with her fingertips and decides they really need to be better at communicating. So, she decides to get the most important thing out of the way first.

"I love you so much."

Harvey's hold on her tightens and he finds her mouth again, pressing his lips against hers. He stays, unmoving for a lingering moment, until he exhales a trembling breath and kisses her deeply.

She's half on his lap. His hand moves just under her shirt to press warmly into her lower back, pressing her close, while he cradles her face and kisses her wetly, happily. She can tell he's being careful with her.

"Harvey?"

"Hm?" he answers, still kissing her face.

"Speaking of communication… I don't really have cramps."

He stops abruptly, eying her accusingly. "You lied to me?"

"A little bit, yeah."

He looks at her, face blank. Then he abruptly pulls her under him on the couch and Donna yelps, laughing when he mumbles a 'goddamn' as he kisses her neck hungrily and fits himself between her thighs.

.