A/N: Sorry for the late update guys, I was sick. But just so you know the next chapter is ready and will be posted soon.

BTW, if you are looking for a fic that deals with Mike's arrest, this is not the fic for you. This fic is just a silly thing I wrote to deal with my shipper's sadness.

Thanks to everyone who will leave comments and reviews xoxo Fantomette

It has been a week since he kissed Donna. He could still taste her on his lips, he could still feel how good it was to have her fingers threading his hair. But also, he remembers the burn of humiliation when she slapped him.

He spent many nights tossing and turning after having this talk with his therapist, wondering where he went wrong, what he could have done differently, when did he start loving her more than a friend… So many questions to which he struggled finding answers for. Now he knew Donna was as scared as he was.

And him being the same usual emotionally-handicapped idiot he always was, he went ahead and kissed her instead of giving her the reassurance she needed for them to go forward. He could have opened up, finally talked to her but no: he kissed her! He hated himself for it but also, he liked every second of it.

He couldn't call this progress, but at least now they weren't stuck in that same lie they had put themselves into for too many years. That kiss wasn't platonic and she sure seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. It was, maybe, the confirmation he needed in order to take the next step. That wasn't some dream he couldn't control. He kissed her and her tongue was soft and he wanted more, he wanted all of her and he couldn't live any longer without having Donna Paulsen occupying every little corner and crevice of his life.

He knew how to fix this, or at least, how to start fixing it. If only she would let him… He did call her. Twice.

Once, he left a message, the other time she picked up and sighed annoyingly, followed by a 'what Harvey?' and her voice was harsh even if his was soft and he told her they should talk to which she replied 'I don't see the point of talking with someone who will avoid talking what we should talk about' and just when he was about to deny, to say that this time he REALLY was ready to talk, she hung up.

It hit him. When she said she was leaving, just before she told him she was going to work for Louis, he begged her 'just give it time'.

But truth is, she had already given him twelve years.

Most people give a few months and move one. She gave him twelve fucking years where he did nothing. No wonder she was scared, he really always has been a mess.

He reluctantly accepted an invitation from Mike to go out for drinks to this little bar not far from where Mike lives

"This might be my last beer for a while…" said Mike taking a sip of the blonde ale.

"You know it isn't. Mike, I told you. Jessica is working on a deal, we'll find something," Harvey replied, his hands around a glass of Scotch. The two men stayed silent for a moment.

"Did you talk to Donna?" asked Mike.

Harvey took a big gulp of scotch ignoring Mike's question.

"You miss her." added Mike matter-of-factly.

The old Harvey would have just deny it. But he was tired. So he just nodded.

"You know we did the ritual with Donna?" continued Mike.

Harvey didn't answer.

"Harvey…Donna hit 18 thumbtacks."

Harvey pushed his empty glass towards the bartender, making him a sign to fill it up. He side eyed Mike and chuckled. "With how many thumbtacks you played? Fifty? Donna never hit that much in the last twelve years."

"Harvey, we played with only two dozen."

Harvey choked on his drink.

'

'

He texted her the minute he was out the bar:

'Donna. I'm coming over. We have to do the ritual. Good luck. For Mike. And US.'

Before they got out of the bar he had told Mike he wanted to walk back to his condo. But he was heading to Donna's place. He had enough to drink to feel courageous, but not too much that he would be inappropriate. Nothing like the other night when he tried to pick up that pathetic girl.

He was lucid. Never been more certain of anything in his whole life. He didn't walk, he ran to her apartment.

He slowed down his pace only when he reached the sidewalk in front of her apartment. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He yanked it out and read the message:

'Now?-Donna'

That was what he needed to attack the stairs leading to her apartment, two at a time. The next minute he was knocking firmly on her door.

"That was quick…" she said clearly in shock as he walked into her apartment. Her hair was undone. She was wearing black legging and a gray, loose sweater that was hanging off one of her shoulder. No heels. The mere sight of her took his breathe away.

He threw his coat on the couch. "Are we doing this?" he said out of breath, putting both hands on his tights as he was trying to regain composure.

"Harvey, why are you such in a hurry? What's…?" she was hesitant. Surprised. She walked slowly to grab the can opener on the counter. "Three dozen?"

He turned around. "I don't know, Donna. I heard you can hit eighteen on two dozen!"

She stopped dead in her track, can opener in her hand. Not moving an inch.

The redhead laughed nervously. "Harvey! Mike and Rachel didn't get naked."

He walked right up to her and stopped only when his chest almost touched hers. She raised her hands in front of her in a protective manner, her palms and the can opener almost touching his chest.

"So you are saying the idea of me getting naked is making you uncomfortable?" he asked in a low voice. He could feel the heat irradiating from her body without even touching her.

Her cheeks took a pinkish hue. "No. Don't flatter yourself, Harvey. It's just a game. It was pure luck…"

He leaned towards her, his breath warm against her skin. He wanted to push her to the limit. He wanted her to crack. "You are into me…" he whispered into her ear, mimicking what he had said to her when they were working at the D.A.'s office.

She huffed and he took another step. Her hands pressed against his chest, he just leaned into her touch, the can opener digging into his chest.

"Are you trying to stab me with the can opened," he asked teasingly, his eyes not leaving hers. She quickly removed her hand along with the can opener but left the other hand, her fingers slowly curling against his shirt. His gaze softened as his mouth crinkled into a smile.

She chuckled nervously and was the one who took a step back, taking her hands off him. She sat on the couch and he knew her well enough to see she was nervous. He wished he could kiss her, like he did the other day. Why things always had to be so complicated?

"Donna, truthfully, I'm here to talk," he started.

"Harvey, clearly you had a few drinks tonight and it is making you cockier that usual -if that is even possible! We are going to do the ritual, for good luck." She raised a finger looking at the man standing next to the coffee table. "That's it Harvey. I don't need another talk that will lead to nothing, with you leaving or deflecting!"

"Okay. Since this is the way you want to do it, we're going to change the rules tonight." He started unbuttoning his shirt, his gaze not leaving hers.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled. He could see she wanted to look away but couldn't, her eyes burning his skin.

"We aren't playing to remove clothes tonight," he said taking his shirt off. "We're playing for questions."

"Then why are you removing clothes?" she asked, biting her lips.

He chose to ignore her question. "Donna. I'm here because we need to talk. There are questions I'm sure you are dying to ask…and tonight, I'm willing to answer them." He removed his shoes and socks and kicked them off behind him. "Every time you hit five I will answer a question."

"You're kidding? Harvey…" She rolled her eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"I'm done avoiding…" he inhaled deeply. "I won't avoid any question and I am not running away from my feelings this time." He looked up at her and she was examining him with a quizzical expression.

He had realized she was as scared as he was, probably for different reasons, but he wanted to give her as much as she wanted. This idea of incorporating a much needed talk into their ritual had come to his mind after his last session with Agard. As both of them were scared and they feared not being in power in a situation, he thought that might be a good idea. Still, he was hesitant and he wanted to use this as last resort… When Mike told him Donna could hit like a pro he got tired, more tired than he's ever been of this dance. He needed to at least try.

She still hasn't said a thing, meaning she probably was considering it. His proposition had rendered her speechless, which was very unusual.

"Donna, I promise you I'm not leaving this time," he pleaded. "You can ask me whatever you want…Anything. You will see, I've changed."

Her cheeks were flushed and she pointed to him, now clad in only his pants and a white V-neck T-shirt. "Is this why you removed your clothes? To show me you aren't running away?"

He nodded and started to unbuckle his pants.

"Stop!" she said in a high-pitched tone. "Or…it won't…Harvey…" She sighed and gestured towards him. "If you remove everything I won't be able to hit anything. This game won't work, Harvey."

Harvey couldn't helped but smile cockily and she shook her head.

"Hooooo Specter, don't flatter yourself! I just do not want any distraction and yes, your white, naked, aging body could be a distraction, and not something I need to see!" She shrugged dismissively. "I just don't see the point of you removing more clothes. Keep your pants and t-shirt on, that's an order!"

He knew better than to argue with her, and he also knew she liked what she saw twelve years ago. He nodded obediently as she got up and gave him a little box that was on the coffee table.

"Three dozen thumbtacks. Brace yourself, I'm going to hit enough to finally get all the answers I deserve."