*Beta'd a few bits.
Notes: Great Big Massive thanks to everyone who reviewed so far. Jellicle said something that I thought was awesome in reponse to an end-of-chapter note, and I agree:
They'll keep missing their cues, until everything else falls into place and they won't be able to escape being together.
Break the Silence By Atheniandream
Chapter 2 – Donna 'The Runaway Bride'
She all but ran down the steps of the church, tottering on her heels, hair and silk splaying out behind her in a gust of panic. Her eyes searched the road, between the heavy New York traffic and Saturday pedestrians; the wedding car was nowhere in sight. She cursed into the wind, holding on to her fascinator as she spied the only sanctuary on offer.
She couldn't go home, the dress didn't exactly have a pocket for her keys, and her things were tucked up in a suitcase in the boot of the wedding car. She had barely seconds and two choices:
Stay and have to deal every single person in her life,
Or run.
She knocked on the door, waiting for the tinted window to roll down.
"Stunning dress, Ms Paulsen… you need a ride?" He said with a wink.
"I thought you'd never ask. And, Ray, we need to hustle." She said, waiting for the back door to open so that she could jump in the backseat, gathering her many skirts in the process.
As she shut the door hers eyes noticed Harvey making his way towards the car.
"Are we waiting for Harvey?" He asked, looking into the rear-view mirror.
"No Ray, we are not." Her heart started to race as he got closer and closer with each second.
"Donna?" Ray asked hesitantly.
"Just drive. He won't be angry with you. And he diserves to walk home." She said, the assurance in her eyes all that he needed. The car pulled away just in time to see Harvey left on the sidewalk and the rest of the church filing out onto the street behind him.
A fierce flare rose out of him as the car, his car, pulled away and darted around the block. It's like she was trained for the great escape, always a hair's breadth away from him. It didn't matter how high her shoes were or how much fabric she was wearing, if the two of them were crammed into a paper bag, she'd make it out before he even had time to blink.
What made it worse was that she'd hijacked his ride and the church seemed to be filing out. Too many possibilities of him getting shouted at.
"Where is she?" A breathless Rachel appeared alongside him, dress gathered at her knees.
"She stole my car." He replied, groaning at the heavy street traffic.
"You really think you're going to get sympathy for that?" She arched an eyebrow at him, flagging a cab.
"Get in," She said, poking her head out of the cab.
For a second, he just stood there, highly aware that an audience was forming.
Suddenly she grabbed his jacket, pulling him inside.
"What are you doing?" He asked the young woman, disbelief in his voice as he readjusted his tie, frowning at her.
"I'm saving you." She eye-balled him, then turned swiftly to the cabbie. "Central Park and step on it, thank you." She said, adjusting her skirt. "In about a minute, Donna's supposed ex-fiancé is going to exit those doors, and I'm pretty sure that the first thing he's going to want to do is punch you. And if he doesn't, then Jessica will still have something to say, and they won't be kind words." She warned.
"You think I don't know that?" He snapped at her.
"Hey, don't be like that with me, you're not my boss," She reprimanded him, then sensing how out of character she must seem by the smacked look on his face, softened a little. "Harvey, why did you do it? Of all the times to object, contrary to most romantic comedies, that was NOT the most appropriate time."
"I realise that. Where's Mike?" He said, changing the subject. He was fully aware of his wrong doing in this situation.
"Helping Louis diffuse Jessica. She is pretty mad, being that this whole situation was in public and in front of a few co-workers."
He hadn't even seen Louis in the church. Where was his mind at?
"Where could she have gone?" She asked him, eyes training the window. "She hasn't got her keys so she can't get into her apartment… do you think she'd go to yours?"
"Maybe to change out of the dress, but she wouldn't stay there." He replied.
"Do you think we could catch her at the pass? You know what, let's try… what's your address?" She asked.
He really did like this woman. She was sweet and spunky even in such a seriously scandalous situation. Donna and Mike must have fallen in love with her from the moment that they met her because she had definitely softened his heart a notch.
"You're a good friend, Rachel." He said quietly, eyes diverting to the road.
"I'm the Maid of Honour, Harvey. Just because there's no wedding doesn't mean I don't still have a job to do." She smiled in return.
Donna reasoned that she had at least a ten minute head start on anyone who'd chosen to follow her, and unless it was Harvey, they wouldn't be looking for her here. If it was him, then she had five minutes to grab her spare key from the mini safe at the reception before grabbing something resembling an outfit from Harvey's wardrobe. If she was lucky she'd find something that she – or indeed a past flame – had left, and then she'd at least look presentable enough to run into the firm and grab the spare credit card taped on the underside of her desk at work. She'd put it there in the event that if she was ever mugged on the street, then she could still buy herself dinner. She was a 'just in case of emergency' kind of gal. She couldn't go back to her apartment; her parents were staying with her and everyone would look for her there so she needed to decide the next course of action and fast.
When she was truly emotional, her mind went into a mass calculus; every to do list in her life rammed together creating her enough jobs to vent whatever feelings were threatening to rear their ugly head. She compartmentalised everything she had to do and for a moment it gave her a serene sense of calm.
She opened the door to his apartment, shutting it quietly behind her, slipping off her shoes in the darkened hall and picking them up by the ankle straps. That was the problem with his place, the moment you entered, your senses were drenched in everything 'Harvey'; the innate smell of him that saturated the couch, the carpets; the walls. This clean, fresh smell mixed in with wood shavings and bergamot. The smell of his cologne lingered as she passed his bedroom and entered the walk-in wardrobe. Despite her anger, she felt awfully calm in the presence of his things. Like him they were stark, bold but at the same time oddly warm; framed in luxury and elegance and a touch of the old wrapped in the new.
Realising that she should have been making her way out of there by now, a weight sunk her feet deep into the carpet, making her feel boulder heavy and a little cold. She looked towards his bed; charcoal grey and sunlight streaming in through the large windows keeping the city at bay.
Was there any use in running?
Any stubborn resolve she had left fell away as her hand came around her back, dumbly pulling down the hidden zip and clasps holding her waist in, letting the dress pool to the floor. She flicked her shoes under a chair, stretching in the mirror and reasoned that she'd never get the bodice off without someone's help. She ignored the errant thought dancing on the frame of her mind and instead thumbed through his drawers to find a t-shirt and some slacks.
Lying down on the bed, she felt herself drifting, until she realised that she should probably have called her parents by now. She was technically AWOL and they were technically her house guests. Then she remembered that out of everyone her parents knew her the best. They'd cancel everything, go back to her small apartment and wait for her. Maybe in an hour she'd call them, tell them to go book themselves on her honeymoon and then at least Tuscany wouldn't go to waste. As the thought subsided heavy sleep took over, the smell of him on his pillows making her a little heady as she drifted into sleep, cradled by the afternoon sunshine.
"Can't you go down 9th and cut through?" He yelled from the back of the cab.
He was getting more and more agitated in the building rush hour traffic. Ray knew all the short cuts, how to get to any destination in the shortest possible time, and those moments where they were stuck in traffic, they at least had the opportunity to argue over Jazz Legends and the World Series. But this guy was one of your oblivious run-of-the-mill 'I don't give a shit' cab drivers working for the paycheck. He grinded his teeth as the cab driver declined to answer.
Rachel flipped her phone shut. "I've spoken to her parents, they've cancelled the reception; they're waiting at her place so if she turns up there, then her dad said he would call."
"Does he know I'm with you?" He asked, completely forgetting that he'd shouted whilst she'd been on the phone.
"I've not told him, but I have an idea he already knows." She smiled. "Her mother is furious at you."
"Great." He rolled his eyes. Her mother…he didn't like quite as much. He couldn't put his finger on the why, though.
"Maybe she's left yours already? Where else would she go?" She asked, eyes scanning their journey through the Theatre district."
"…I…I don't know." He replied, his voice failing at the end.
For a woman whose wedding he'd just obliterated, he really didn't know enough about the details.
Rachel sighed, turning to him.
"Look Harvey, I like you; and I'm pretty sure that Donna is in love with you, but from this moment on, unless you want to lose her forever, you're going to have to make a real effort. She can plot your emotional state throughout the day, but you; you can't even tell me where her favourite place in the city is. There's an imbalance between the two of you that needs sorting out." The edge in her voice, something akin to his 6th Grade English teacher Miss Yawm bore down on him like he was being told off for drawing on the desks all over again.
"I'm her Boss, Rachel. There's a reason why she knows more about me than I know about her." He said.
"That's bullshit." She countered. "You know more about Mike than you know about her. I'm serious, Harvey." She said.
There it was again, that voice.
"It's the Kennedy Centre…or… there's a Patisserie in the West Village that she used to talk about all the time." He said. Now he was just starting to panic. Harvey Specter didn't panic, but this wasn't a job. This was Donna. A beep caught his attention, bringing him out of his daze.
"Mike just text. She's not at his place, probably because she expects him to be with you." She explained.
A small smile appeared at her lips.
"What?" He asked, feeling self-conscious.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad that you did it, however badly you executed it. Carl's nice… but he's not you."
He was a little taken a-back. "Thanks Rach,"
They finally arrived at his Apartment; Harvey beating Rachel to the payment, giving the guy the money and a tip he didn't deserve and ignoring his thanks.
"Good Luck." She said.
He half smirked, turning away before an impulse struck him. He knocked on the Car door waiting for her to wind down the window. "Rachel?"
"Yes?" She said, eyes wide at his seriousness.
"Despite what I may have said in the past about you two… you really are good for Mike."
"Someone's got to give you a break from looking after him. Let Mike know if you find her, okay?"
"Will do,"
He turned towards the rotating doors. His building suddenly looked like a fortress.
Time to meet the Dragon head on…
"Mr Specter." The Security guard welcomed him with a tip of his hat.
"Henry. A beautiful red head wearing a wedding dress didn't happen to make it past security, by any chance?" He asked.
"She's upstairs. You getting married today Mr Specter?" The round faced man asked with a hint of humour.
"It wasn't my wedding," he said, ambiguity lacing his words as the elevator doors closing around him.
The elevator couldn't move fast enough. Part of him hoped she'd already left and that Henry had fallen asleep on the job. The Elevator stilled onto his floor.
When he opened the door, he was met with a dark hallway. He didn't want her to build any ammo out of her hearing him come in, his usual swagger tempered by the wish to be stealthy and not awaken the beast as he quietly walked down the hallway.
She wasn't in the kitchen, or the lounge.
She wasn't in the Bathroom, but the closet was open.
He noticed the dress in a pile on the floor, the fascinator on his drawer set, shoes under his chair. A moment of irritation stalled him as he hung the dress over the chair, his thumbs rubbing over the beaded detail. A rustle caught his attention, until he spotted her.
She was snoring softly, drenched in his running t-shirt and grey slacks, hair slightly messed from sleep. She looked beautiful and dangerous.
He flicked off his shoes, folding his jacket to lie on top of her dress, undoing his tie and ever so lightly lowering himself onto the side opposite to face her. She was completely out. His bones started to object at the build-up of tension, knees and back aching at him to relax. He thanked the sun as it blasted through the window and helped to soothe his weary form.
He watched her snoring, mouth open a little, makeup smudged around the edges as she hugged the top of his quilt.
He knew he was dancing with the devil but this was his home after all and she was in his bed. He found it somehow lovely that she was still here, of all the places in the city that he could have lost her to she had stayed put. Thoughts of Runaway Bride were no longer in his head.
As he too drifted towards the sleep brought on by the intense sun raining down on them; he wondered: just how long would the impasse last, until they would again be confronted with an oncoming storm of problems.
I want to find myself by the sea,
In another's company
By the sea, I want to go out to the pier
Gonna dive and have no fear
Because you, you just know
You just do. ~ 'VCR' By The XX
Cannot wait to start adding more people into this... :evil face: